The smell didn't get any better on closer acquaintance either, he mused.

"Superman? Where are you?" Lois's voice sounded scared.

He moved towards the sound. "I'm right here, Lois. Right here." He did his best to stand close to her in an attempt to offer comfort.

After a few moments, during which he could hear the sound of sniffling, she said in a small voice, "What do you think are the chances of our getting out of here?"

Clark paused for a moment, then spoke in as cheerful a tone as he could manage. "Well, let's assess the situation. I'm powerless, and my ankle hurts like hell. We're trapped underground, and from what I can tell by the echoes around here, this part of the sewers is blocked off to create a small chamber. The ladder is missing and the manhole is covered, and anyway it's too high to reach even if you stood on my shoulders and stretched your arms up. There's no ventilation, and we have no food or water. Apart from that... no problem." He finished on a light note, hoping that his wry summation of the situation might at least make Lois smile.

Lois was silent for a few minutes, simply leaning against Superman. Then she moved away, dropping to her knees. "At least let's try to find those damned keys. He dropped them around here somewhere!"

Clark knelt as well, though he felt that it was a hopeless quest. "Lois, they could be anywhere - we heard them fall, but they could have bounced. And I can't see a thing!"

"Me neither," Lois agreed. Except for... that glowing green thing! She crawled over to the manufactured Kryptonite object, crouched down in front of it and managed to hold it in her hand. Moving back to Clark, she crouched with her back to him and held the Kryptonite object close to the floor. "Can you see anything now?"

Clark was surprised at how much light Kryptonite provided in the darkness; he supposed he had never before got close enough to the substance to notice. Although, he realised, when I was in that Kryptonite cage it glowed in the dark...

"Aha!" he exclaimed in triumph as he spotted a glint of silver. He turned, fumbled around on the ground and eventually felt the metal of the keys. He seized the small keyring and gripped the keys firmly. "Now we have to figure out how to get these cuffs off."

Lois dropped the Kryptonite and struggled to her feet; she found Superman in the darkness and moved to stand back-to-back with him. He fumbled around for several minutes as he attempted to connect the key with the key-hole; further delay ensued as he had to work out which was the correct key. His grip slipped occasionally, and the point of the key stabbed Lois's wrist several times. She gritted her teeth and willed him to succeed.

Suddenly, the cuffs opened as Superman managed to insert the key and turn it. Lois shook the handcuffs off, and rubbed her wrists vigorously for a few moments. Then she remembered Superman, and groped her way behind him to take the keys from his tired and strained hand. Quickly, she found the keyhole on his handcuffs and unlocked them. He also rubbed his sore wrists and then stretched his big body.

"I never thought I'd have reason to be thankful for Kryptonite!" he mused aloud wryly. Lois moved to stand in front of him, barely able to make out his face in the dark. "That stuff is really dangerous to you?"

"Oh yeah," Clark replied heavily. "Normally, it causes me excruciating pain and prolonged exposure to it can kill me. This stuff - whatever process was used to reconstruct the Kryptonite St John scraped off the cage must have diluted its worst effects. All it's done this time is take away my Super-powers - which unfortunately means I can't get us out of here." He gave a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Lois - I wish I could have found a way to get us out of this before now."

"I don't think there was much we could have done," Lois said thoughtfully. "I know I had that idea when we were in the tunnel, but you were right - where could we have gone? They'd have shot us dead before we'd gone half a dozen paces - and anyway, we didn't have the device to open the doors."

Clark hugged Lois lightly to him; whether it was for her comfort or his he couldn't have said. "All the same, I'm sorry."

"How long do you think we have?" Lois asked.

Clark shook his head, then realised she probably hadn't been able to see the gesture. He released her and began to pace the area of the blocked-off sewer. Thinking for a few moments, he then made his way back to where Lois was standing, guided by the glow from the Kryptonite. "Hard to say - I don't know whether we're likely to die first from thirst or lack of oxygen - or even cold. A couple of days, anyway."

"So we have time to figure out a way out of here," Lois responded firmly.

"How?" Clark asked blankly. He realised that he was actually feeling helpless in a dangerous situation, for the first time in his life. He had felt powerless in relation to emotional situations, relationships; but never in relation to things which simply required the ability to *do* things, or to think his way out of a practical problem. Yet with the absence of his Super-powers he also seemed to have lost the ability to think intelligently.

That's nonsense! he told himself. Kryptonite has never had that effect on me!

He forced himself to think rationally about their predicament. They were in a section of sewer, beneath the ground. The section they were in was about eight feet wide, and possibly twenty-five feet long. The blocked-off ends were bricked up, so no chance of escape that way; not much air would get through either. As he had descended the ladder, he had estimated the drop at about fifteen feet. There was water in the sewer, but nothing suitable for drinking; but was it coming from anywhere? Did it go to anywhere? He wasn't sure.

Lost in thought, he failed to notice Lois picking up the Kryptonite, but he heard the click of her footsteps as she walked across the rough, damp floor. "Where are you going?"

"Exploring," she replied. "No, stay there - you need to keep your weight off that ankle."

Clark shrugged, not seeing much point to what Lois was doing. And his ankle was throbbing quite badly now. He hesitated, then sat on the floor; it was cold, damp, it smelt and he wouldn't like to guess at the nature of the substances coating the surface; but his ankle felt better for it.

Lois, meanwhile, had found the wall on one side of the sewer and was walking along, examining it for any signs of a way out. Nothing; until she was half-way along the end wall, and her hand, reaching up as high as it could go, felt the brick give way to something. She couldn't tell what, since her fingers were only able to reach up to the point where the brick stopped, and she was unable to stretch any higher

"Superman! Come and see this!"

"What?" Clark didn't particularly want to get up, but he struggled to his feet and managed to follow the green glow to reach Lois, only tripping up twice on the uneven floor on his way. "What have you found?"

"This - give me your hand," Lois replied impatiently. She took his hand and drew it up until he was touching what she had found.

"That's glass," Superman replied slowly. "It's a window!" He sounded excited - this could be their way out.

"It's filthy," Lois said in disgust. "That's why there's no light."

Clark crouched down beside Lois. "Climb onto my shoulders and I'll lift you up. Use my cape to clean it, and see whether you can see what's outside."

The window was indeed filthy, with ground-in dirt and grime; Lois damped Superman's cape with some of the slimy water which ran down the wall and managed to clear a small hole in the centre of the pane. However, the outside of the window was equally grimy, so it was very difficult to see anything. "I think it's a back street - the window's just at pavement level," she said at last. She continued cleaning until she had covered most of the inside of the pane.

"Okay - now we just need to smash it," Superman replied. "Get down."

"Why - what are you going to do?" Lois demanded.

"Break it, of course!"

"With what? Your bare hands? You don't have any powers! You'll cut yourself!"

"I know," Clark replied patiently. "But I'm sure I can find something to use - a brick, or something like that. My boot, if necessary."

Lois darted away again; the small amount of additional light provided by the window helped her to see her way. She returned in a moment with something in her hand, which she passed to Superman. "This might do."

Clark took it; it was a broken piece of brick. He smashed it against the window several times, but to no avail. It was constructed of reinforced glass and would not break.

After half an hour of repeated smashing, they conceded defeat. That glass just was not going to break.

It was also clear that, wherever they were, it was not a much-visited area of town. Not a single person had passed by that window during the time they had been banging and smashing at it. Lois and Superman slid down to a sitting position, leaning against the wall.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, Lois became aware of a pressing need.

"Superman - I need to go."

Clark's head turned sharply towards Lois. Was she joking? "Lois, I'd love to get out of here too, but as things are I can't see it happening just yet."

"No - I mean I *really* need to go. You know - *go*."

"Oh!" As it dawned upon him exactly what Lois meant, Clark fell silent. He was sure that the provision of sanitary facilities had not exactly been a priority as far as Nigel St John was concerned. From Clark's point of view, taking care of such a basic human need was not likely to cause any deterioration at all in their environment; he wasn't sure, however, whether anything he could say to that effect would lessen Lois's embarrassment. So he allowed his head to fall towards his chest and remained discreetly silent.

Lois got to her feet and began to explore again. At the far side of the enclosed area, her foot encountered empty space. She stumbled, and in the process discovered that there was a hole in the ground about a foot in diameter. Cautiously, she put her hand in; the hole extended some inches down. Withdrawing her hand again, she felt in her trousers pocket, and was rewarded by discovering the stub-end of a pencil. She dropped it in the hole; a couple of seconds later she heard a faint splash. Water.

Quickly, she relieved herself as silently as she could, then readjusted her clothing and headed back to Superman. Clark raised his head as she approached, but made no comment. After a few moments, he suggested, "Think you could get that Kryptonite stuff as far away from me as possible? I know it's not doing me any harm beyond the lack of powers, but... I just don't like it anywhere around me."

"Sure." Lois picked up the coated-plastic object and traced her way back to the other side of the sewer. Struck by a thought, she put the object on the ground and stamped on it. It shattered. Quickly, she picked up the pieces and walked carefully around until she found her hole again, and then dropped the pieces down one by one.

She returned to Superman and explained what she had done. "I don't know for sure, but I think it might lead down to an underground stream, which means there's a chance the Kryptonite could be out of harm's way." She paused, and Clark reached for her hand in a gesture of thanks. "Do you think there's a chance your powers will come back now?"

Clark shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's always taken me time to recover from Kryptonite exposure before - the first time, it was a few days. But the sun gives me a lot of my powers, and there's not exactly a lot of sunlight down here."

"True," Lois agreed. "But there's a little bit of light from that window now - maybe if you stay sitting here, it might help?"

"Maybe." Clark agreed, though he didn't hold out much hope.

Lois turned to study Superman; in the faint light from the window she noticed the puffiness of his face where Nigel had struck him with the gun, and the streaks of blood under his nose and on his forehead. She wished she had some clean water to wash the blood away, but decided that in the circumstances it was better to leave the injuries as they were. She offered to look at his injured ankle but he refused, saying that it would hurt more to take his boot off than to leave it as it was.

They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

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

Back at the Planet's temporary offices, Perry White was on the telephone, giving some hapless employee at the Mayor's office a hard time. "I want to know how MPD's finest, along with a posse of FBI, could just let three people escape right under their noses! What in the hell do we pay taxes for anyway?" He listened briefly, fingers tapping impatiently on his desk.

"Aw, forget it! Just tell the mayor that she won't like what she reads in tomorrow's Planet!" he finished abruptly, slamming the receiver down in its cradle.

"Uh... Chief?" Jimmy Olsen tentatively stuck his head around the door.

"What you got, Jimmy?" Perry looked eager, briefly, hoping that his young assistant might have got hold of some leads.

"Well... not much, really. I put together that list of Luthor's properties like you said, and went through it with Eduardo, but we couldn't see anywhere which looked likely. But then I started thinking, wondering how St John had managed to get out of the Lexor without being caught, so I called up a plan of the Lexor on the computer. Here - let me show you." Jimmy laid a print-out on Perry's desk and gestured to it. "See - there. The basement extends out pretty far, looks like beyond the hotel's frontage - I wondered whether there was any reason for it?"

Perry stared at the plans. "You just might be onto something, Jimmy." He reached for the telephone, punched in a number, then spoke. "Get me Henderson." He waited, studying the plans again. "Yeah. Perry White here. Have your men checked the Lexor's basement thoroughly? We think there might be some sort of way out down there. Well, it's a bit of a guess, but if you wanna come over and see what Olsen's just shown me... Okay, see you later."

The editor of the Planet leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes, before turning back to Jimmy. "Any luck finding Kent?"

Jimmy shook his head. "I can't figure out where he's got to. I went over to his apartment on the way back here, but he wasn't there and his neighbour said she hadn't seen him all morning. He's not written down for any assignment, and no-one here's seen him."

"Last I heard from him was shortly before I sent Lois down to the Lexor - he emailed me some copy, but as far as I knew he was at his place then," Perry replied thoughtfully. "I just know he'd want to know about this."

"You and me both, Chief," Jimmy agreed with feeling. "CK'd be really cut up if anything happened to Lois."

"Well, we just gotta hope the cops we pay our taxes to fund get their asses in gear and find her," Perry growled. Alive, he added silently.

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

They sat side by side, not touching, in their cold, evil-smelling prison, leaning against the damp wall. A long time had elapsed - Lois had no idea just how long - since either of them had spoken; each seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

Lois was battling within herself; a part of her wanted to break the silence and challenge Superman about the conversation in her apartment that night before she had accepted Luthor's proposal of marriage - apart from anything else, she realised, if she - they - were going to die, it would be her last chance, and anyway if she had to die she would rather it was in the company of someone she liked, rather than someone against whom she still had feelings of suppressed anger. However, another part of her, bolstered perhaps too much by pride and hurt, did not want to be the one to drag up the memory of that painful incident. It clearly hadn't meant much to Superman; after all, they had been in this sewer together for... oh, over an hour, and it hadn't occurred to him to apologise. Or did he consider it too embarrassing to remember Lois Lane's delusion, not only that she was in love with him, but that he might just possibly return her love?

She glared into the darkness, the angry part of her having won out for the time being. She would say nothing.

Clark, on the other hand, was reflecting on what he saw as the desperate sadness and tragedy of their - or perhaps more accurately, his - predicament. It wasn't just that they faced almost certain death unless he could figure a way out of this. He? Lois would just about kill me herself if she knew I'd automatically assumed I was the only one of the two of us who could get us out of here, he reminded himself. Lois keeps complaining that I try to control her too much, that I patronise her by thinking I have the right to protect her - and she's right!

It's just that I know that I'm invulnerable and she's not, he pointed out to his conscience as he justified his actions to himself.

But you're not very invulnerable right now! that same conscience pointed out.

No... and there lies the other problem, Clark admitted. Right now, I'm no more or no less than Clark Kent, Lois's partner and - as far as she's aware - more or less normal, average human being. No Super-powers. Yet I'm dressed as Superman, and unless I'm going to tell her the truth right now, I have to let her believe that she's with Superman.

Tell her the truth... Clark mused upon that for a moment, and then decided that he couldn't make that decision yet.

But you're probably going to die, his conscience irritatingly pointed out. Doesn't she deserve to know? And where's the problem, anyway - who's she going to tell?

Maybe... I guess so, Clark conceded. But I can't face telling her yet...

And so, he reasoned, therein lies the real difficulty. She thinks that the last time she saw me was that night at her apartment - and she's probably pretty mad at me for that. I know that the last time she saw me we made up, as friends. Was that really only yesterday, he wondered in amazement.

Why did it all have to happen like this? he asked himself.

Because you wanted it every way, his conscience retorted instantly, aggravatingly. Why did his conscience always have to be right?

For that was exactly how it had been. Clark Kent, farmer's son from Kansas, had fallen in love with city girl Lois Lane the instant he had seen her, and subsequent encounters had not changed a thing. But she had made it very clear that she regarded his interest as an irritation, that he was possibly the last person she would consider seriously for a romantic attachment. There had been her last-minute invitation to the White Orchid Ball, where she had ridiculed his suggestion - admittedly made as a taunt - that it would be a date. And there had been those highly charged few moments as they ate Chinese food during a late-night session at the Planet. Their eyes had locked, and the air had shimmered with suppressed tension... then she had broken the mood with those few words.

<Don't fall for me, farmboy, I don't have time for it>

Well, so Clark had recognised his place, and he had instead concentrated on winning Lois's trust and affection as a friend. And he had succeeded; there had been many moments, days, evenings over the past year which were tribute to his success. The relieved, emotional hug after his first encounter with Kryptonite - about which Lois had known nothing - and his final one with Trask; that hug was so different to an earlier occasion when Lois had hugged Clark warmly on discovering that he was alive, only because it also meant that Superman was also alive. The time Lois had actually invited his company when she was afraid for her life. The time he had actually resigned from the Planet and had been ready to leave Metropolis... despite Lois's flippant remark upon his return, it had been obvious that she had missed him. The fact that when she felt alone, or unhappy, or excited, it was he, Clark, she called on the phone, or came to see. He was the one who held her and comforted her when she was sad or afraid.

But he hadn't been able to resist looking for more, and since he couldn't get it as Clark he had taken it as Superman. It had seemed so harmless, and it had provided such a boost to his ego, once he had realised that Lois was smitten by his creation. To visit her at her apartment, to send her notes, to take her flying, to make the occasional flattering remark or favour her with a special smile, and receive in return her absolute trust, loyalty and affection, had been an immense source of joy to him. But what had he been trying to do? To win her for Superman? Of course he hadn't, he answered instantly. But then why? Why the obvious demonstrations of affection - the closeness, the demonstrative caring for her well-being, the lingering looks, and the kisses?

Did you really think she would be unaffected by it? he asked himself. Where did you think it was leading?

So, because she didn't want you as Clark, did you think that you would show her what she was missing?

Clark ran his hands roughly through his hair. Of course that hadn't been it, he argued. But then *what* did you think you were doing, his conscience demanded.

That's just the problem, he answered honestly. I *didn't* think. I just... wanted. Wanted to be near her, to see her look *at* me and not through me, to get her to smile at me in that wonderful way she has, as if all the lights in Metropolis had come on at once. To get her to notice me... to... love... me.

But she doesn't love you! the conscience pointed out. She loves Superman - who isn't real. Who doesn't exist, who is only a part-time cartoon persona in order to provide a disguise for Clark Kent, who really does exist, but unfortunately Lois Lane doesn't seem to recognise that fact; she's only interested in primary-colour-clad Super-heroes and multi-millionaires...

That's not fair! he told himself before his conscience was able to get in on the act. Lex was a mistake, and Lois has admitted it. And anyway, he mused, I was probably to blame - at least in part - for the Lex thing going as far as it did. If I hadn't acted like such a spoilt, jealous kid, and been there for Lois when she needed me - and really tried to come up with some evidence which could've convinced her - she might never have accepted his proposal.

But all of this, Clark realised, didn't help in the current situation. Here he was, as Superman rather than Clark, imprisoned in a dark, abandoned sewer with Lois, whose last memory of Superman was an encounter she would probably prefer to forget. He sighed heavily.

He felt, rather than saw, Lois turn her head towards him. She didn't speak.

Okay, it's up to me, he accepted. He sighed again.

"Lois, I owe you an apology." His voice was deep, deliberately taking on the serious tones of his Superman persona.

"Yes?" Lois was conceding nothing.

"Yes, I do. The last time we spoke... I said one thing in particular which was unforgivable, and gave you completely the wrong impression of me." He paused, waiting to see whether she would help him out. She didn't, remaining silent and still beside him.

"What I said about... your robe needing to be lead-lined... I would never use my powers to take advantage of you or anyone else like that, Lois. I don't know whether I can expect you to believe that, but I assure you that I only said it because... I was angry, and disappointed." He stopped abruptly, fearful that he would reveal too much.

Lois Lane, investigative journalist, would not have been much good at her job if she had missed a clue like that. "Disappointed... why?" Her tone was not especially inviting, but neither was it cold.

Clark sighed again. "I had - some idea - of why you wanted to see me, and I was disappointed that the question of whether you accepted the...proposal you'd received should hang on me. And..." oh hell, I'm really digging deeper holes for myself, he thought grimly "...I knew what you'd said to Clark when he told you how he felt."

Lois was surprised; for some reason she had not expected this. She had worked out some time before that, somehow, Clark and Superman had become close friends. It had galled her to realise that Clark got his share of Superman exclusives - frequently more than she did - and when she'd discovered that Clark seemed to have some mysterious means of contacting Superman she had been extremely jealous. But she hadn't quite realised that they were on terms of intimate friendship.

Another mistake, thought Clark as he watched Lois's reaction to his words; why is it that when I have a pen or a keyboard in front of me I never have any problem composing what I want to say, and yet I'm a complete mess when it comes to verbalising my feelings?

Trying to explain away the hole he had dug for himself, he added, "When he said you wanted to see me, he was pretty upset, so..." He allowed the sentence to trail off, deliberately allowing Lois to draw her own conclusions. "So anyway, I want you to know that I am very sorry for what I said, and I wish that I had never said it."

Lois closed her eyes briefly; he had apologised for that crack about her robe, but what about the rest of it?

"That wasn't all you said," she pointed out at last, in a tone which she considered to be a model of restraint.

Clark shot her a glance; he was just about able to make out her expression in the dim light. Her face seemed strained, though he was unsure whether that was a consequence of their imprisonment, the prospect of dying incarcerated in this appalling underground chamber, or possibly even the appalling smell - which *definitely* did not get any better on a lengthy acquaintance. He conceded that perhaps she had a right to an explanation.

"Okay, yes, it wasn't," he agreed. "But I meant what I said about there being things you don't know about me. And, no matter how close we were as friends, I *couldn't* tell you - it would endanger you, and I couldn't do that to you."

Lois shifted slightly - the floor was uncomfortable as well as damp - and faced Superman. "I don't think I could be in a much more dangerous position than this. You've said you don't see much chance of us getting out of here alive. So what's wrong with telling me now?"

Yep... trust Lois to spot the flaw in my reasoning, Clark thought wryly. "Maybe. Not just yet... but I promise you that if we're still in here tomorrow I'll tell you everything." There. That solves it, he thought.

Yes - by postponing the problem, as usual, his conscience taunted. Do you seriously think her reaction is likely to be any different tomorrow? You *know* she's going to take it badly.

But it was said, and Lois was nodding. "Okay. I'll hold you to that." She paused, then thought, well, I won't get another chance if we *are* going to die in here...

"Superman, did you mean it when you said you didn't believe I loved you?"

Clark closed his eyes briefly. How could he answer that one without telling her the truth? But didn't he owe her the truth, despite his crass and cowardly behaviour in putting off the problem until tomorrow?

"Lois, I... you really don't know me well enough to understand your feelings for me. You've been dazzled by the things I can do, like flying, saving your life... you don't know *me*. And that's why I didn't - "

Lois interrupted him, saying savagely, "Oh yes? And just who gives you the right to pontificate like that about what I do and don't know? I can't remember when I've last been so *patronised* by anyone! I've been dazzled by you - you know that for a fact, do you? Was I being dazzled when I found out that it wasn't you who was causing the temperature rises in Metropolis? Sure, I think it's great that you can fly - but if you couldn't see that I fell in love with the man underneath the costume and the powers, then you're not the decent, true and caring man I thought you were."

But you didn't fall in love with the man beneath the costume, Lois, Clark thought with a silent groan. You told him you didn't love him. You told him he was a friend to you, no more. You made him feel as if he was crazy even to imagine that you might love him the way he loves you... You hurt him so badly when you made it clear that you would choose Lex Luthor, the biggest villain in Metropolis, rather than him...

Lois bit her lip, wondering what Superman's silence meant. Was he still doubting her? She forced down her aggression, and chose her words carefully, trying to make him see that she really meant what she said.

"Superman... you said you didn't believe me when I said I'd love you even if you were an ordinary man. Well, you're just an ordinary man now, aren't you? You have no powers, you're vulnerable, and hurt... and I still love you. *Now* do you believe me?"

Clark caught his breath. She was right, in a way... and yet she couldn't have been more wrong. He was still, to her, Superman; he certainly wasn't Clark. And how would she react if she discovered... *when* she discovered... that he was indeed Clark? Could she love that ordinary man, with or without a few extra-ordinary powers?

But is it really her fault if she didn't see Clark underneath the Super-hero in the suit, the persistent voice of his conscience asked. It was you who invented Superman - and encouraged her to think that you were two separate people. How can you blame her for believing what you wanted her to believe? Clark stilled, recognising that Lois's feelings for Superman, and lack of feelings for Clark, were entirely the consequence of his own actions. Sure, it would have been better if she'd fallen for Clark rather than Superman... but how could she resist someone who flattered her, who made her feel special, who had *literally* swept her off her feet?

It dawned on Clark suddenly just why the little voice of his conscience had the maddening habit of being right: it simply reflected his mother's wisdom and advice. Martha Kent also had an extremely annoying - and loveable - habit of always being able to tell him precisely what he'd done wrong in a given situation, even if she wasn't always able to suggest exactly what he should do to make things right again. I wonder what she'd think I should do here, Clark wondered.

In what way? his inner self asked. To resolve things with Lois, or to get the two of you out alive?

Clark closed his eyes briefly. Oh yeah, let's focus on something achievable, he thought wryly. Find a way out of this darned sewer!

As Superman's silence stretched into several minutes, Lois looked away; clearly he still didn't believe her. She drew her knees up towards her chest and wrapped her arms about them, leaning her chin on her kneecaps. Does it matter? she asked herself. It's clear that Superman would never be interested in a relationship with an ordinary woman anyway. But... she bit her lip and faced the reality of their situation. It seemed likely that she and Superman would die, together, in this awful place. If so, then she didn't want her life - their lives - to end without getting him to understand. She loved him, and it was so hard to sit there, beside him, facing death, and not to know whether he could possibly care for her in return - or even find her attractive enough to want to seek some comfort and distraction from her during the hours they had left to them.

Eventually, she raised her head and faced him again. "Superman, I'm not sure what more I can say to convince you. All I know is that ever since I first met you, on board the Messenger, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. Any time we've been in danger, I've thought of your safety before my own. I feel so good whenever I'm around you... and when you smile at me, or touch me, I feel as if I have all I ever want in this world."

Tell me about it, Clark thought. That's how I've felt since the day I met you, Lois... a week before I swallowed the bomb on the Messenger.

He turned to face her, and in the dim light from the window saw the earnest, pleading expression on her face and the love in her eyes. Oh, Lois, why couldn't you ever have looked at Clark like that?

She moved a hand, tentatively, towards him; he responded and took her small hand in his large one. He leaned closer to her and gently, slowly, brushed his lips across hers. Her lips parted invitingly, but he drew back, instead stretching his free hand towards her face and curving his palm caressingly along her cheek.

After a moment, he shifted so that their bodies were touching, and he curved his arm about her shoulders to draw her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, apparently content for the time being.

Lois may have seemed content, but inwardly her emotions were confused. He had given her a look of such longing, she reflected; there had been something in his expression, a sadness in his eyes, which she simply couldn't interpret. There had also been something oddly familiar about that sad look... something was nagging inside her brain which told her she should recognise that expression from somewhere... someone else. But she was also asking herself what his response had meant. He had instigated the kiss, but had not accepted her invitation to make it a more passionate exchange, instead settling for a brief touch. And the way he had caressed her face... there had been something unbearably tender about that. But was any of his behaviour lover-like, or was it a silent apology for his inability to offer her anything more?

She had to know. "Superman?" Her tone was soft, questioning.

Clark stirred slightly; he had known she would want more from him. "Lois, I'm sorry. I do care about you - I told you that before, and nothing's changed since then. But... Superman cannot become romantically involved with anyone. It's just too dangerous." No, Superman can't, Clark justified his excuse to himself - but Clark can. And Clark would love to become romantically involved with you, Lois...

"Superman, this situation we're in... we may not get out of it alive," Lois prompted softly. "Why shouldn't we make the most of what time we have left?" She raised her face towards his again, inviting his kisses.

Clark was tempted; the sight of Lois's beautiful face raised in invitation was almost more than he could bear. He lowered his head towards hers, but at the last minute his lips brushed her forehead instead. "I know, but still... Lois, it's just not a good idea. I... can't."

Why not, she demanded silently.

Oh, Lois, you just don't know how much I want to take you in my arms, crush you against me, and kiss you until neither of us have breath left in our bodies. I want... I *need* to tell you how much I love you, how my body and my soul have yearned for you since the moment I saw you. But I'm afraid... I can't tell you how I feel without telling you the truth.

And as long as there was the slightest chance that they might escape alive from their prison, Clark thought, he couldn't bear to take the risk of telling Lois who she was really with. He told himself that he had no idea how she would react; but then he admitted to himself that he did have an inkling. She would be hurt; she would accuse him of deceiving her into believing that he was two different people; she would suggest that he had taken advantage of her in her ignorance, and perhaps even that he had been laughing at her behind her back for her infatuation with Superman. Yet none of this was true; if she could only understand it, she was the one who could laugh at him. In creating a secret identity for himself, and in indulging himself by spending time with Lois in that identity, he had only made himself more miserable, and his love for Lois seemed to be more hopeless. Superman, supposedly intended to allow Clark Kent to enjoy a normal life, appeared to be the biggest obstacle in the way of his actually h
But how do you *know* she would react like that? his conscience asked him. You could try to explain - and let's face it, she can't exactly walk away or refuse to listen while you're both trapped down here. It's the perfect opportunity - and if you do manage to get out alive, you have the chance to start afresh with her. You *do* trust her with your secret, don't you?

Clark admitted to himself that he knew Lois wouldn't rush to print his secret; however ambitious she was as a journalist, she was also loyal to her friends. He could trust her on that score. So why couldn't he trust her, as a friend and as the woman he loved, with the secret of his true nature?

Because you're a coward, his conscience pointed out. That's why you've never told her the truth, that's why you ran away from her as Superman when she put into words what you already knew - that she'd fallen for the disguise, and that's why you took back your declaration of love, as Clark. You're afraid to take the risk of opening yourself fully to someone else's scrutiny, to risk that you might get hurt. It's much easier to love from a distance than to take the risk of a real, flesh-and-blood relationship, where secrets and hopes and fears have to be exposed and shared.

Maybe I am a coward, Clark muttered silently to himself. But it's safer...

He felt Lois pull away from him, and turned towards her in time to see the hurt and rejection on her face. Instantly he felt stricken with guilt. She, with the memory of his previous rejection fresh in her mind, had taken the risk of making the first move, offering her sweet, warm mouth to him. He had rejected her again, without any explanation or justification. His conscience was right - he was a coward.

He shifted, and tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Lois, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I want you to know that I do find you attractive. But that doesn't change the fact that you and I can't have a relationship. I know that we're trapped in here, and maybe I should just forget everything I've tried to do to keep you safe from people who might use you to get at me - maybe we should just give what we can to each other in the time we may have left. But there's something inside me telling me that's the wrong thing to do. That's why I can't, Lois. And as long as there's some slim chance that we might get out of here alive, I won't give you any false hope that we could have something in the future."

Lois listened to Superman's explanation; at first she was sceptical, but as he continued she began to understand his point of view. She had always understood that Superman had a very strong moral code, a set of values much more rigid and ethical than most humans possessed, and she had loved him all the more for that. She wanted so much to spend what little time they might have left to them comforting and loving each other, and couldn't really see any objection - particularly since it was clear that he found her attractive. Yet she understood why Superman felt that it was wrong for him. In a way, she now understood what he had been trying to say to her that evening at her apartment: he couldn't have a relationship with anyone, and therefore, no matter how much he did care for her, she could never be more than a friend to him.

She smiled at him, therefore, and replied, "I understand what you're saying, Superman, and I want you to know that your honesty and your ethics are among the things I love and value the most about you." She traced the line of his jaw with her finger, enjoying the freedom to touch him as he sat holding her close to him. It was a freedom, she was aware, that she would lose if they did manage to escape from this place; something told her that he would take care to avoid being alone with her in the future, to ensure that they were never again tempted to allow the attraction between them to develop into anything.

Clark had winced inwardly at Lois's reference to his honesty, and he hoped she wouldn't notice his discomfort. He was well aware that his justification was only a small part of the truth; he knew now that he didn't want to be intimate with her in any way under these false pretences. He could only be happy about kissing her, touching her, holding her in the way she wanted if he told her the truth now, that he was Clark. And since he still didn't feel ready to do that, he had struggled for a plausible excuse. The half-truth he had just told her, together with his deception, made him very uncomfortable listening to her praising his values.

Then tell her the truth! his conscience urged. No, I can't, he replied silently. I don't want to take the risk that she might reject me - and if that makes me a coward, then that's what I am.

Feeling Lois shiver slightly, he tugged the end of his cape from behind him and wrapped it around her, pressing her head into the curve of his shoulder. Resting his head lightly on top of hers, he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of holding the woman he loved in his arms, and attempted to ignore the voice of his conscience arguing that his deceit was incompatible with his claim to love her.

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

Perry White replaced the telephone receiver and got to his feet, moving to stand beneath the portrait of Elvis Presley which hung near the door to his office. For once, he failed to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll's face, instead simply seeing the face of Lois Lane, his star reporter and the nearest thing to a daughter the Daily Planet's editor-in-chief had ever had.

Inspector Henderson had just called to say that Olsen's hunch had been correct: the layout of the Lexor's basement had indeed suggested that it might have been used for purposes other than storage of items related to the running of a hotel. The hotel's staff had been quizzed on what might have been kept down there at one occasion, but they had been of little help. One long-serving porter had remembered that on one occasion there had been a number of crates in the basement; he hadn't known what they had contained other than that it was not soft furnishings, alcohol or other hotel supplies. The crates had disappeared about a week later, but although this porter operated the service elevator, he hadn't seen them taken out. This had confirmed to Henderson that there must be another exit from the basement, and his men had eventually found it by using special equipment which had detected a passage behind a facade of brick. Not being able to find the means of accessing the passage, the wall and door had been brok
Impressions had been taken of the tyres, but all these had shown was that they were a very common make of cheap tyre which tended to be used on trucks or vans. Officers were now, Henderson had explained, asking around to see whether anyone had seen a vehicle parked in the street, or perhaps driving away, in the late morning. However, by the tone of his voice Perry had deduced that Henderson wasn't very hopeful. It was understandable; the streets around there mainly housed the rear entrances of downmarket bars and clubs, and there was unlikely to be much activity around there in the mornings. Down-and-outs who slept in doorways would have been up and about, in search of breakfast or supplies of alcohol, and the owners of business premises were unlikely to show up before early afternoon.

So the trail had gone cold; and Lois was still missing. Wanted notices had been issued on Nigel St John, but from what had been discovered about him since that morning, Perry was certain that he was unlikely to be found. Henderson had volunteered the information that a police search had discovered St John had once worked for the British overseas secret service, but had been dismissed after being caught out in an unspecified double-cross. Someone like that would not be found should they want to disappear, Perry knew.

Was Lois still with him? Perry wondered. Was St John intending to use her as a hostage for his own safety and freedom, or had had already killed her? He didn't want to speculate, but as the hours went by with no news, he was unable to help himself. He was also aware that the Planet would need to be ready to run the story of Lois's kidnap, and he had already assigned two of the Planet's older, reliable reporters to put together the required articles. He would have preferred to put Clark Kent onto the story; it required someone with Kent's touch. But apart from the question of whether Kent could bear to write about his best friend's disappearance and possible death, the other reporter was still missing.

"I could do without Kent going missing today, of all days!" Perry muttered aloud, startling a junior researcher who was passing by his open door. The editor had grown accustomed to Clark Kent's occasional disappearances, many of which happened with no notice at all. He had no idea where the reporter went, but since most of these occasions were followed by a very good, and often exclusive, story, the editor had suppressed his curiosity. After all, he told himself, what did it matter if Kent had some sort of secret life or was spending his time moonlighting on writing his novel or whatever - as long as he kept turning in front page material that was all Perry needed to know.

But today... Kent was badly needed to cover this story, Perry told himself, while conceding that the real reason he was so anxious over Clark's absence was that he knew how he would react to Lois's kidnap. That boy would be frantic, Perry knew... he would be calling all over the city trying to locate his partner. He would be of no use whatsoever in the newsroom, Perry acknowledged with a wry twist of his lips - how could Clark work when Lois's life was in danger, when she might already be dead?

No, Clark would be combing the city himself, on his own or with Superman's help. And that was something else, Perry reflected. Superman was still missing; he had never shown up since he had gone to tackle the kidnappers inside the hotel. That he had gone into the hotel was clear: there was that smashed window where he had clearly broken in. But what had happened in that office? There was broken furniture on the floor, and a box with a small tarpaulin... what had that contained?

Where the hell was Superman, Perry wondered yet again. And why wasn't he out looking for Lois when everyone knew that she was the closest thing to a girlfriend that the Man of Steel had?

Sighing, the editor walked purposefully into the newsroom and demanded to see how far his reporters had got on the story of the hostage-taking and kidnap. He updated them on Henderson's phone call, so that the information could be included in their article.

Then, reluctantly, he called Jimmy over, and instructed the young man to pull up Lois's best work from the electronic archives, as well as her personnel file and the bio which was used for publicity purposes. Then he retreated into his office, closed the door, and began, slowly and with immense sadness, to compose Lois Lane's obituary.

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

The light from the dirty window was dimming; Clark guessed that it was probably around 6pm and that they had been imprisoned in the cold, evil-smelling sewer for about six or seven hours. They had not talked much over the past couple of hours, each lost in their own thoughts. Occasionally one or the other had begun a conversation, desperately in need of some distraction from the unpleasant nature of some of those thoughts; but for the most part they had simply held each other and gained comfort from the closeness.

Lois was very cold, Clark could tell; although without his Super-powers he was also feeling quite chilled he was still warmer than she was. He had done his best to keep her warm by, after a while, detaching his cape from the back of his suit and wrapping it around the two of them, thus warming her as much from his own body heat as the blanket-like effect of the cape. He also chafed her hands in his from time to time, and encouraged her to hold them against his side or between his thighs to warm them up. The sensation of Lois's hands on his body was uncomfortable, but he did his best to prevent himself from responding in any way to the sensations she evoked in him. The Suit was revealing enough without any involuntary responses below the waist, he knew.

His thoughts had drifted after some time to his parents, and his friends at the Planet. He acknowledged that it was unlikely that they would escape alive; he had a number of times stood up to stare out of the window in the hope that a passer-by might be alerted to their plight, but it seemed as if no-one ever passed by on that street, wherever it was. He had tried banging on the window again with the brick, as much in an attempt to attract attention as to break it; without success.

If they died down in that sewer, they were unlikely to be found for some time - if ever. In the meantime, no-one would know what had happened to either of them, which would mean a lot of worry for people for whom Clark would rather not cause pain. His parents would probably already know he was missing, if the news broadcasts had carried the story that Superman had never emerged from the hotel after going in to stop the terrorists. And Lois's family would know by now that she was missing, unless there was a news blackout on the story for some reason.

But if they died there, how would anyone find their bodies? It was possible, Clark reflected, that Nigel St John might see that as some part of his act of revenge; never to have anyone know what had happened to them. That certainly wouldn't have been in Luthor's style, Clark mused. The late and unlamented head of LexCorp would have gloated in the ultimate defeat of his adversary, and would have wanted to see the newspaper headlines declaring that Superman was no more. Therefore Luthor would certainly have arranged for their bodies to be discovered at some point.

Therein lay another problem, of course; while Superman would be found dead along with Lois Lane, what about Clark Kent? Would it ever be known what had happened to him? Clark was aware that his absence would have been noted; he suspected that Perry White had already left several angry messages on his answering machine. This was a big story, quite apart from the concern he was aware Perry would have for Lois's safety. He would want Clark working on it.

Clark returned to his puzzle: would a dead Superman be linked to Clark Kent? He had lost his invulnerability, so it would be possible to perform an autopsy on him - his father's prediction would have come true at last, he recognised with an ironic grimace. He probably would be sent to a laboratory and dissected like a frog. Was there anything they could discover from Superman's body to tie him to Clark Kent? Clark had never suffered from the usual childhood ailments, and because of the way his adoptive parents had found him - in a spaceship - they had tended to keep him away from doctors, not wanting to risk suspicion arising as a result of blood or other tests. Were there any fingerprint records on file for Clark? he wondered.

Or would his parents publicly claim him as their son? It was a possibility; and Clark almost hoped they would, since he didn't much like the idea of a grave and memorial simply to Superman. Clark is who I am, he thought miserably. I want Clark to be remembered - and I don't want my friends never to know what happened to me.

But, he thought, would his parents be safe if they admitted to having brought up as their own an alien child? If they were known to have deceived officialdom for twenty-eight years, to have pretended Clark was the illegitimate child of a distant cousin, rather than reporting his existence to the government as it would be argued they should have done? They could be prosecuted, he thought glumly. And even if they weren't, they would have the world's media on their doorstep for weeks, if not months. Their neighbours would be offered thousands of dollars for stories about Clark's upbringing; lies would be printed about all of them. Cranks would descend on Smallville, possibly even people like Jason Trask who would want to believe that his parents were themselves part of an invading alien force, or that they had at least aided and abetted the aliens.

No, it would probably be better if his parents kept his secret, Clark mused, even if it meant that Clark Kent's fate would never be known and his parents would be unable to bury their son. It was unlikely that they would be allowed to do that in any case, he thought; he couldn't see the government giving up its opportunity to find out about his physiology and genetic make-up. As long as no-one tries to clone me again, he thought grimly. It could be done, even if he had been dead some time by the time they were found; a lock of hair had been used on the previous occasion, hair which had been cut from his head some time before. The thought of someone - whether it was the government or some evil scientist working for his own nefarious purposes - producing another Super-powered individual made Clark wince.

Lois felt Superman's shudder and surfaced from her own thoughts to look up at him. In the dimming light, the bruises on his face were shadowed and his cut lip made him resemble a ruffian the like of which she wouldn't care to meet in a dark alley. She reached for his hand and squeezed lightly to attract his attention. "Are you cold, Superman?"

Clark met her searching eyes, dark brown pools of concern and anxiety. "No, not really - warmer than you, anyway, I guess." He paused, then remembered that she would of course understand - she had met the clone which had been generated from his hair.

"I was just thinking about what could happen, assuming we're found," he explained. "Found dead, I mean." He stopped abruptly, realising that his words, and his apparent acceptance of their fate, might upset Lois, but she nodded, indicating that she wasn't afraid to consider the possibility.

"Yeah - I've been wondering whether we'd be found at all," she said softly. "I don't imagine this place gets many visitors." She paused, and grimaced. "I know I don't exactly get along with my family, but I'd prefer them to know what happened to me, rather than be left always wondering."

"I know," Clark agreed. "I think it's possible St John will make sure we're found. But what I'm afraid of is what might happen to my body. The chance to study Kryptonian physiology might prove too tempting..."

Lois gripped Superman's hands tightly, immediately understanding his fears. "Yeah - they'd love the chance to use you as a lab specimen! And... oh, God... cloning - every mad scientist and megalomaniac in the world would be after a piece of you!" She stared at him in horror, imagining the prospect of what could be done with Superman's genetic material.

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of too," he replied quietly. "And I'm as much afraid of the government authorising it as of criminals doing it." He paused again. "The only way to stop it - apart from throwing my body into the sun, which isn't much of an option right now, would be for me never to be found." He fell silent again, thinking. Lois simply held him tightly, wishing there was something she could do; the thought of what might be done with his body obviously worried him greatly.

After a few minutes, he enquired, "Lois, how big is that hole in the ground you found?"

She understood his reason for asking. "Not very, Superman - only about a foot in diameter. There's no way you could get down there."

"You certainly couldn't throw me down, if I was dead," he mused aloud. "Even if it was large enough, I'm too heavy for you. But I wonder... how secure is the ground around it? If I could dig a bit more away, maybe I could jump down myself..."

He made as if to stand up, but Lois let go of his hands and clutched at his arm. "Superman, what do you mean? Unless you think maybe you could swim along and maybe find a way out of here - "

Clark stilled and looked at her. "Do you think that's possible?"

"I don't know," she replied. "Maybe I should have thought of it earlier - there definitely is some kind of underground stream. But I don't know where it goes, and there might not be enough air or head-room to allow you to get out." She paused. "I'm smaller than you, Superman - maybe I should be the one to try it?"

Clark wasn't having that. "No, Lois - it's far too dangerous!"

"So?" she challenged, getting to her feet as he stood also. "I'm certainly going to die if we stay here! And if you do it, you might be even more likely to die than I am." She stopped abruptly, noticing the strange expression on his face. There was an odd, distant smile and a determined look in his eyes, and suddenly she knew.

"You *want* to die down there!" she challenged!

He hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth, but found himself unable to lie to her about this. "Not if there is a way I could get help to you, Lois," he said honestly. "But it occurred to me that if I'm going to die anyway, if I could manage to get down into that stream my body might never be found. And then there would be no cloning..." He trailed off, refusing to meet Lois's eye.

Lois blinked, and found herself trying to hold back tears for the first time during the entire length of their captivity. She couldn't bear the thought of his dying like that; even less could she bear the thought of him leaving her. "Superman... I understand how you feel, but if you did that I'd be alone..." It was her turn to trail off, as she wondered whether she was being selfish.

Clark understood her feelings. Of course she wouldn't want to be left on her own in this awful place. Forcing himself to be realistic about the situation, he concentrated on working out which of them was likely to die first. He concluded that it would probably be Lois, since she was smaller, less strong, and was feeling the cold far more than he was. In addition, he was aware that while he had no Super-powers, he probably still had some advantages due to his Kryptonian physiology.

He reached for Lois, pulling her into his arms and hugging her. "Lois," he murmured softly, in a voice which resonated with the depth of his feelings for her. "I promise, I will not leave you alone. If I do what I've suggested, it will only be... after..." He trailed off, finding himself unable to say the words after all.

After I'm dead, Lois silently finished his sentence for him. After all, I am likely to be the first to go... She pressed her body closer to him, drawing strength and courage from his strong arms and broad chest. Tucking her head under his chin, she held him tightly for several minutes. When he finally loosened his grip, she leaned back and raised her face to his again, unconsciously asking for his kiss. He obliged silently, and their lips met in a caress which was as loving as it was passionate.

Clark, in the midst of the kiss, recognised that it represented everything he had tried to resist earlier, everything he had determined he would not say or do while she was in ignorance of his true identity. But he had been unable to resist the silent appeal in her face, the unshed tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. It had been an incredibly emotionally-charged few moments, as each contemplated their own and each other's deaths. Ending the kiss gently a moment or two later, he allowed his eyes to meet hers, and he raised his hand to trail the back of his fingers down her cheek.

Lois, he promised himself silently, I will tell you the truth. You deserve to know before you... die... And you will die in my arms, if I cannot get you out of here alive. Whatever I have to do, I will make sure you do not die alone.

Unable to bear the thought of her death for the moment, Clark stepped back and asked matter-of-factly, "So where is this water-hole, then?"

But Clark's idea proved to be unworkable; rather than having been formed through erosion of the surrounding floor, as he'd hoped, the channel seemed to be artificially constructed. No matter how much he pushed or pulled at the edges, or battered them with his half-brick, nothing gave way. Lois was secretly relieved, although given Superman's reasoning for wanting to throw himself down into the water below she felt a little guilty for her relief. But the thought of his strong, proud body lost for ever in some underground, foul-smelling stream which might or might not lead to the city's sewers was too appalling to contemplate, as was the possibility that he might become fodder for fish.

What am I thinking of? she wondered with an impatient grimace. If he stays here he'll die anyway, and we'll both be rat-food within hours. And we might never be found. That possibility was equally grim, she knew, and she desperately tried to rid her mind of the pictures which kept flashing into her brain. She knew the place was full of rats - where they came from, she wasn't sure, but there had to be a way in and out for them, or they would die. She had also felt some unidentified creatures crawl over her legs as she had sat in Superman's arms; she had shuddered but attempted to ignore them.

The rats... She turned to Superman again. "How do the rats get in and out - or manage to stay alive? There must be air getting in here somewhere!"

Clark considered the question for a moment, before replying slowly, "I wondered that myself earlier. But there are a lot of rat corpses around here - that doesn't help the smell, as you can tell, so I'd guess maybe that they get in through that hole in the ground and then can't get out again."

Lois groaned in horror and despair, a sound which made Clark long to be able to sweep her up in his arms and fly her out of there. Knowing he couldn't simply made him feel even worse about their predicament. Instead, he put his arm about her shoulders and led her back to their place under the window; wrapping his cape around her again, he sat on the floor and held out his arm to her, indicating that she should come and sit beside him.

"We should share this, Superman," Lois protested, gesturing to the cape, but Clark shook his head. "I'm okay, Lois, I can manage. You're freezing."

She joined him on the floor, this time turning her body so that she was half-lying across him with her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, resting his chin on her head, and wished for the thousandth time that he could find a way to save her. No matter about himself; he just couldn't bear the thought of Lois dying, especially the interminable, painful death she would suffer from exposure, suffocation or thirst.

Lois's mouth was dry; she would have given anything she possessed for a drink right at that moment. She even contemplated licking the damp wall, or trying to scoop water from the hole at the other side of their prison. All right, she knew that the bacteria would probably kill her - but that would be quicker than the lingering death she would suffer otherwise.

Trying to distract herself, she spoke again, her voice dry and husky. "Superman, I know how you feel about the use your - body - might be put to. But... I wondered, what if you took your Suit off and we threw it down that hole? It's possible that no-one would recognise you."

This was an idea which hadn't occurred to Clark; if his naked body was discovered, what would be thought? There would again be attempts to ID him through fingerprints, dental records, DNA samples - none of which would yield any answers, he thought. On the other hand, it was just possible that he might be recognisable as Clark Kent. Which would be all right - unless Nigel St John chose to reveal just who had been trapped in the sewer with Lois Lane.

"I'm not sure, Lois," he replied at last. "It might not be any good if St John tells the world I was here."

"Okay," she replied quietly, lapsing into silence again. Clark recognised that her mood had changed again. When they had first been locked in their prison, she had been afraid but determined; she had been the one who had tried to find a way out, and had at least found their window - for all the good it had done, he mused grimly. Then, apart from their discussion about his feelings for her, she had been courageous, refusing to show fear or despair. However, her manner had now become introspective, and he suspected that the prospect of their deaths was eating away at her.

He, on the other hand, was more or less resigned to his fate; his anger lay in his inability to save Lois. He was sad for his parents, who might never know what had happened to him, or who might have to suffer their grief in silence while horrified at what was happening to his body. But Lois's suffering was tearing him apart.

He tilted her chin in his hand and looked down at her with a sympathetic, wistful expression. "Lois, do you want to talk about it?"

Do I? Lois wondered. It's bad enough thinking about it... and I'm so thirsty, I don't know if my voice will hold up. But maybe it's better than just brooding...

"Oh, Superman..." she began on a choked sob. "I don't want to die!" His arms tightened around her as he gazed at her wordlessly. "I just keep thinking about everyone I care about... knowing they don't know where I am... knowing I'll never get the chance to say goodbye."

"I know, Lois," Clark answered softly.

"I keep thinking about... Clark," Lois whispered shakily. "I don't know why... I mean, he's a great friend and I really care about him, you know? He's been really great to me over the Lex thing - and I'm really glad you haven't asked me anything about that, you know, Superman, because I'm not sure I could have explained any of it to you, I can't even understand now why I ever agreed to marry him... God, I'm babbling, aren't I?" She trailed off, looking down at the S on Superman's chest.

"It's natural that you should think about your friends, Lois," Clark replied, trying to keep his voice as steady and calm as possible. It had shocked him deeply when Lois confessed to thinking about him - he wanted to ask her what she was thinking, and why, and how she thought of Clark now... but he knew he couldn't. It would have been taking unfair advantage of her.

"Yeah, I know, but Clark... oh, Superman, I really I could just see him one more time! I don't even know what I'd tell him - maybe just thank him for being such a wonderful friend, maybe just say goodbye... I'd really love him to hug me just once. I never realised it before, but he is a very special person..." She trailed off again, closing her eyes as she rested her head again on Superman's chest, trying to visualise Clark standing in front of her.

Clark sat as if frozen. Lois was with Superman, so she thought - and she wanted Clark! Not because she was in love with him, it seemed - but she wanted him! Needed him - and he could give her what she wished for. All he had to do was to say those four words... Lois, I am Clark.

Surely, now, he could stay silent no longer, he reasoned with himself. If it would comfort Lois at all, he owed it to her to give her that comfort. He couldn't possibly justify deceiving her any longer. And what did it matter if she was angry with him for keeping his identity from her? They were going to die... it wasn't worth staying angry when they needed comfort and companionship from each other. It would ease his conscience not to have any more secrets from Lois. And, he admitted to himself, he really didn't want to die without being completely honest with the woman he loved.

He shifted slightly and tipped up Lois's chin with his hand again.

"Lois - there's something I need to tell you," he said huskily, in a voice full of uncertainty and love for her. He met her eyes with his, staring into the deep brown depths, trying to predict her reaction. Would she hate him? Would she refuse to speak to him? Would this prove to be the biggest mistake of his life?

It doesn't matter if it is, he told himself. I *have* to tell her now. I can't go on any longer without telling her. She deserves to know.

Lois's eyes were searching Superman's face. His voice, when he had spoken to her, had been so emotional, she had wondered what it was he was about to say. Some sort of confession, she guessed; he had sounded sad, and guilty, and afraid. Afraid that she would be angry or disappointed with him? she wondered. It was possible that he had decided to confess to his true feelings for her, she thought - she couldn't think of anything else he could have to admit to. In the course of the hours they had spent imprisoned together, it had been impossible for her not to detect that he had strong feelings for her. The way he had held her, comforted her, kissed her, *looked* at her had all made that patently clear. Despite his argument earlier that Superman could not have a relationship with anyone, it was possible that, now they had both accepted that they would die, he had decided to tell her how he really felt.

She tugged one arm free from his cape and reached up to stroke his face with her finger, hoping to reassure him that, whatever it was he had to say, she would listen and understand.

Something felt different under her touch... Puzzled, she stared at him, and suddenly realised what it was.

Clark began to speak. "Lois, this is very hard for me to say, because I've been afraid for so long to tell you the truth..."

But Lois was no longer listening. She interrupted him, croaking excitedly, "Superman, your face! The bruises are vanishing!"

Even as she spoke, another bruise faded, and the cut on his forehead sealed itself as if by magic.

"...the truth about who - " Clark broke off as the impact of Lois's words sank in. "They are?"

"Yes!" Lois's voice cracked as she attempted to shout.

Clark focused on the wall opposite them; it gradually faded, allowing him to see the sewers beyond it. He lifted Lois off his lap and stood up; concentrating, he floated a few inches off the ground.

"My powers - they're back!" He stared at her in amazement and disbelief. She threw her arms around him, sobbing in shock and relief. He returned her hug briefly, then stepped back.

"Let me get us out of here." He spoke firmly, in his practised Superman voice, and crossed his arms in front of his chest in the habitual gesture as he thought about their best route.

"Stand back," he instructed, as he floated upwards to rest in front of the window. He hit it hard with his fist; it shattered, and glass flew everywhere. Lois winced as flying shards hit her, but she was oblivious to the pain of any cuts. Superman had his powers back, and they were getting out of there alive!

Clark drifted back down to the floor and picked Lois up in his arms, flying with her to the window. "It's not wide enough for me to fly out with you in my arms - not without you getting cut by broken glass," he explained. "Can you crawl out yourself if I support you?"

"Sure!" Lois agreed. Stiffly, she leaned forward and arranged Superman's cape over the broken glass, then reached through and balanced her hands on the pavement outside. First one knee and then another rested on the pavement, and she struggled to her feet, inhaling lungfuls of sweet, fresh air.

Before she had time to straighten, Superman was standing beside her, fastening his cape back to his suit. He smiled at her, a broad grin of relief and happiness. "May I give you a ride home, ma'am?"

Lois giggled. "I don't think I could make it on my own - I haven't a clue where we are, I've no money for a cab because I lost my purse somewhere - and I'm not sure any driver would let me in his cab in this state - and my legs don't seem to want to hold me up. So I guess I don't have much choice."

Clark smiled. "I guess we both smell pretty disgusting. Should I take you to your apartment?"

Lois considered; the desire to get cleaned up warred with her impatience to get to the Planet and file the story. She glanced up at Superman quizzically. "Do I look really bad?"

Clark grinned wryly. "Lois, much though I hate to say it, you look - and smell - like a sewer. Let me take you home, okay?"

She nodded, and a split second later she was in his arms and they were drifting skywards. It was a wonderful feeling, she reflected; fresh air, the sky, the freedom to move... life itself. She would never take it for granted again.

Clark was also silent during the flight, musing on what might have been. It felt wonderful to have his powers back - not just because their return had saved both their lives, but also because he now knew he would never take his special abilities for granted again.

A few minutes later, Clark flew in through the window of Lois's apartment, his precious burden still in his arms. He set her down gently, and she clung briefly to his arms.

"Superman... thank you. You saved my life again," she whispered, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

He hugged her warmly. "Lois, it was thanks to you - if you hadn't got rid of the Kryptonite, if you hadn't seen that my bruises were disappearing... I had no idea my powers were returning."

She stepped back and smiled at him. "Want to use my shower?"

He grinned before shaking his head. "No thanks - I think your need is greater than mine. And I have somewhere else I can go."

Yes... you would do, Lois thought. I wish I knew where... A thought struck her. "Superman, what was it you were going to tell me, back there?" She held her breath, hoping that her guess had been right.

Clark caught his breath, remembering what he had been about to do. Should he tell her now? He had made up his mind to confess, after all. He surely owed it to her, after what they had gone through together.

No - I can't! It's all different now... I don't know how she'll react...

He looked down at the floor, berating himself for his hesitation, but knowing that he just couldn't bring himself to speak the necessary words. He forced himself to look at Lois again, and said, in deliberately brisk tones, "It doesn't matter now. Lois, I need to go - I have to find St John and his accomplice and hand them over to the police." He stepped backwards towards the window, trying to ignore the look of hurt on Lois's face.

As he flew away from her window, his conscience taunted him. 'Coward... coward... coward.'

Yes, I am a coward, he thought. But I love her too much to risk destroying what I have... even if it means I will never know what might have been.

You'll have to tell her one day, his conscience retorted. Before she finds out for herself, and hates you for deceiving you.

Maybe... Clark admitted. But... not yet...

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

Lois stared after the departing red and blue speck that was Superman, and sighed. What had he been going to tell her? She was sure that he loved her, and had been going to confess his feelings. Whatever it had been, it had been something momentous. But it now looked as if she would never know, and he would return to maintaining an impersonal distance between them.

If only I had waited just one minute later before noticing his face, she thought despairingly.

But a moment later she shook herself. There were more important things to think about right at that moment, first of which was getting out of her filthy, torn and stinking clothes. She padded into the bathroom, undressing as she went, and climbed into the shower with a sigh of blessed relief at feeling the warm water wash over her.

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

In his office at the Planet, Perry White was close to tears as he attempted to write the final paragraph of his obituary. Lois had been missing now for most of the day, and according to Henderson the police were now very doubtful that she would be found alive. The theory was that St John would have killed her, dumped her body somewhere - possibly in Hobbs Bay, and there were plans to dredge it - and then made his escape somehow.

Lois... a lump gathered in Perry's throat as he thought of his star reporter lying dead somewhere. He supposed that he had always known she would end up on a mortuary slab before her time; after all, she took the kind of risks which should have killed her long ago. Clark was always berating her because of her apparently careless attitude to her own safety; he'd had to get her out of a few dangerous spots, and if it hadn't been for Superman there were at least a dozen occasions in the past year when she should have wound up as dead as Elvis.

But this time it looked as if she hadn't been so lucky. Swallowing, Perry looked around at the printouts Jimmy had brought him; articles by Lois; the picture of her winning her first Kerth for investigative journalism, the youngest reporter ever to win; the first Lane and Kent exclusive front page story, about the sabotage of the Messenger; hastily phoned-in tributes to Lois from colleagues at competitor news organisations. He would miss that young woman, darn it - the Planet simply wouldn't be the same without her.

Clenching his fists, Perry cursed the MPD and FBI for asking her to go into that situation at the Lexor. They should have been more suspicious - they had had no right to put a civilian at risk.

Darn it, if St John had wanted someone newsworthy to take hostage, *he* would have gone! If he had wanted to kill someone in some sort of twisted revenge for Lex Luthor, why couldn't he have demanded Perry White - after all, it had been Perry, along with Clark, Jimmy and Jack, who had found the proof of Luthor's guilt which had been sufficient to set the police on him.

Taking a deep breath, Perry tried to force himself to return to the obituary - after all, he had the other articles on the hostage situation to check before they could start to put the paper to bed. Deadline was in just over an hour. He sank slowly into his chair again, hoping that he would have no more interruptions. He had already spoken to Lois's mother and father - separately - three times each, and Lucy twice, and he felt that he just couldn't face talking to them again. Feeling guilty as he'd done it, he'd asked the switchboard to transfer the call to Personnel if any of the Lanes called again.

As he began a new paragraph, the door to his office burst open. Perry looked up sharply; Jimmy Olsen stood there with a shocked expression on his face.

"Olsen, when I say I don't want to be interrupted, I mean I don't want to be interrupted, get that? Now get out of here and don't come in again unless you want to be picking up your final paycheck from the Planet." Perry's voice was like thunder; he was furious at the interruption, as much from his dislike of allowing anyone to see how upset he was as from his need for solitude. He turned back to his laptop, assuming that Olsen would slink away and close the door behind him.

But Jimmy didn't appear to be daunted by his boss's bad temper. "Chief, you've just gotta come out here... you won't believe - "

"Perry, I think Jimmy's trying to tell you I want to see you," a voice the editor of the Daily Planet thought he'd never hear again murmured from the doorway.

"Lois! How in the name of Elvis... I swear, I never thought I was going to see you again!" Perry jumped to his feet and ran to Lois, embracing her tightly. "Darlin', just how did you manage to escape from St John? And when? Where've you been?"

"Hey, Chief, give me some space and I'll tell you," Lois laughed as she walked to the chair in front of Perry's desk. "I gotta sit down - my legs still don't want to hold me up, which is weird seeing I was sitting most of the afternoon..." She explained, as succinctly as possible, the events following her capture inside the hotel.

"So Superman was there all the time? And he'd no powers? Jeez!" Jimmy was amazed. "I wondered what had happened to him - I knew he wouldn't just disappear and let people down."

"No, he wouldn't," Lois agreed. "He's gone now to try to find Nigel St John, but he took me home first. Perry, I'm sorry I didn't come straight here to let you know I was okay, but... well, Superman did kind of suggest that I needed to get cleaned up first. You wouldn't believe the stink in that place - I had to wash my hair three times before I convinced myself I couldn't smell it any more. And the clothes I was wearing - I had to take them down and put them in the trash." She grimaced, then smiled. "But I'm fine, no real harm done - just a few scratches."

She got to her feet. "How long have I got until deadline, Chief? I have a story to write!"

Perry grinned; that was his Lois all right. "I'll give you forty-five minutes - now git!" He smiled as she walked proudly out of his office, and then returned his attention to the obituary on his computer. This won't be needed now, he thought, moving the mouse to delete the file. Then he paused and gave a wry smile. Okay, she had escaped with her life this time, but knowing Lois she would be rushing into danger again the first chance she got. He might as well save the file... you never know...

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

Lois's eyes searched the small temporary newsroom, in anticipation at first but concluding in disappointment. "Jimmy, where's Clark?"

"CK? Dunno - we haven't seen him all day," Jimmy replied with a shrug. "The Chief had me call all over for him - see, we didn't know if he knew what had happened to you or anything. We knew he'd be worried, though..."

Yes, he would have been worried, Lois knew. And knowing Clark, the good Samaritan and faithful friend that he was, he had probably been risking his own life trying to find her. She sat at her desk and quickly dialled his home number, hanging up as she reached the answering machine. She then called his mobile, only to find it switched off, and finally his beeper. It beeped, but there was a strange echo... somewhere close by...

Slowly, she turned her head as she realised where the echo was coming from. Clark stood behind her, in his customary dark suit and colourful tie, a lop-sided smile on his face and his beeper held aloft in his hand.

"You were paging me, Lois?"

"Clark!" Lois jumped to her feet and grasped at his arms. "Clark..." She trailed off, suddenly unsure of what she wanted to say to him. He seemed to understand, however, silently taking her in his arms and hugging her close to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked eventually, his eyes searching her face as he released her.

She nodded, swallowing; she suddenly felt more emotional than she had been all day, even in the terror of believing that she was going to die of thirst or hypothermia. Blinking, she spoke softly. "Yeah, I'm fine - it's amazing what a hot shower can do for you..." She smiled self-consciously.

"You know what happened, CK?" Jimmy demanded impatiently.

Clark reluctantly dragged his attention away from Lois; it had been a huge relief to see her again, to be reassured that she had suffered no ill-effects from their confinement in that dreadful place. She had a few minor cuts on her face, probably from flying glass, but otherwise looked perfectly healthy.

"Yeah, I heard all about it - I just came from talking to Superman, he told me he found St John's accomplice and handed him over to the cops. There's no sign of St John himself, though - the sidekick says they parted company somewhere over on the north of the city. He thinks St John had a helicopter somewhere and might have used it to get out of Metropolis."

Lois blanched. "So he might come after Superman - and me - again?"

Clark grimaced; that had been precisely his fear once he'd realised St John had managed to evade justice. "Maybe," he replied with more confidence than he felt. "But he's a wanted man - the FBI will be circulating his description all over the country. And Superman's keeping his eye out as well. And something else - Superman had the police check out LexLabs, and they found the remnants of the Kryptonite solution Nigel had used, so it's been destroyed. I don't think he'll find it easy to get his hands on any more."

"I hope not," Lois gritted.

"Anyway..." Clark said with a wry look, "I think I've got about twenty minutes to get all this written up for the Chief, so I'd better get working - talk to you later?" He was relieved to have an excuse to leave Lois for the time being; her open pleasure at seeing him had been very gratifying, but he needed time to readjust to being Clark with her.

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

"Great stories, kids!" The editor was pleased, judging by the broad grin on his face. "The Planet's only been back in business a few days, and we're scooping the competition already!" His expression and tone changed. "Now you get on home and get some rest, Lois - you've had one hell of a day, and I need you back here tomorrow fit and well!"

Lois turned to Clark and grinned. "Feel like driving me home? The Jeep's here, but I'd just as soon be a passenger."

"Sure," he agreed, returning her smile. He offered her his arm in an exaggerated gesture. "Ready to go, partner?"

They travelled back to Lois's apartment in companionable silence. Lois, just rejoicing in being alive, was occupied in studying Clark surreptitiously. There *was* something about him, she thought. Twice now at crucial points in her life, thoughts of him had engraved themselves on her brain.

Superman was right; he and Lois could not have a relationship; it was crazy to think anything else.

Could she and Clark have a future together?

But he said he didn't love me, she reminded herself.

But she smiled secretly to herself. Whether Clark Kent loved her or not might be disputable, she thought, but it couldn't be denied that he was attracted to her. He had given himself away on that score too many times - even the previous day, when they had hugged and made up. He had released her quite quickly, but not before she had felt the tentative evidence of his attraction to her.

Perhaps it's worth working on, she thought.

But on the other hand, she reflected, it was only just over a week since the wedding from hell - perhaps it was too soon to be getting involved in another relationship. Perhaps it would be better to concentrate on being best friends - get to know Clark better first. After all, he wasn't going anywhere. She really wasn't ready to risk getting involved with another man again just yet, even someone as dependable and trustworthy as Clark.

Give it time, she decided. If it's meant to be, it will happen.

Oblivious to his partner's train of thought, Clark was enjoying the sensation of inhaling Lois's personal scent and listening to her heartbeat. This was another facet of his powers which he had missed while the Kryptonite was having its debilitating effect on him, and it was so good to be able to use his full potential again.

It was also good to be with Lois as Clark again; he no longer felt constrained to act in a particular way, as he had during their imprisonment. As Clark, he could joke with her, tease her, even hug her without wondering how she interpreted the gesture. As Clark, she would tell him her hopes and her fears, she would tease him, call him 'farmboy' and 'Mr Greenjeans' and 'Boy Scout', and she would trustingly cuddle up next to him on the sofa to watch a movie. So what if she didn't seem to want to kiss him the way she wanted to kiss Superman? Who knows, maybe in time he might be able to persuade her to fall in love with Clark. Especially if Superman stops encouraging her...

Should he have told her the truth? For a moment, Clark wondered what would have happened if Lois had noticed the fading of his injuries a couple of minutes later. Would they still be travelling home together in Lois's Jeep? Pessimistically, he decided that they probably wouldn't have been; it was very likely that Lois wouldn't be speaking to him.

I will tell her one day, he promised his conscience. Not yet... I want time to let our friendship develop first, to see whether there is a chance that she could love me as Clark and not as Superman. I have to know... otherwise I'll always be afraid that she chose the Super-powers and not the man.

So I'll give it time, he concluded. When the time is right... if it's meant to happen, it will happen.

He pulled up outside Lois's building, steering the Jeep expertly into a parking space. As they exited, he handed Lois the keys and leaned towards her to brush her forehead with his lips.

"Sleep well, Lois - I'll see you tomorrow at the Planet," he said with an affectionate smile.

"Yeah, you too, Clark," Lois replied with a yawn; she had intended to invite Clark up for coffee, but she was just realising how tired she was. Better to leave it.

Clark paused as he was about to stroll off, and looked back at his partner. "It's great to have you back."

"Yeah," she replied, and then it struck her that perhaps he was referring to more than just today's events. "It's great to be back, Clark - Lane and Kent, the greatest team in journalism."

"Sure," Clark grinned, giving her a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "We make a great team, Lois."

In so many ways... and maybe one day I'll get the chance to prove that to you, he mused as he made his way home. Maybe one day it will be Lane and Kent in a life partnership as well as a work one... who knows.

"Oh Lois, it's great to be alive!" he murmured, startling a passing pedestrian. He grinned, and concluded his thoughts more silently. Whether I'm an ordinary man or a Super man, it's a great life, and there's so much to look forward to.

Roll on tomorrow, and seeing Lois at the Planet - the start of the campaign to show her how indispensable I can be in her life...

- The End -

- Postscript -

Apologies to everyone who thought three-quarters way through that this was going to be a revelation story. I decided that it made more sense not to have Clark confess his true identity at this point. First, by keeping the secret, this story could fit clearly into continuity, with 'Madame Ex' taking up a week or so after this ends. This also explains, BTW, why Nigel was allowed to escape - after all, he has to be able to resurface in 'The Phoenix' <G>. Second, I intended this story to explain (to some degree) Clark's rationale to himself - however sensible that may have been - for keeping the secret at this stage, and for focusing on building his friendship with Lois in the early part of Season 2. It also - I hope! - explains how Lois, at the beginning of Season 2, seemed to have forgiven and forgotten Superman's treatment of her at the end of 'Barbarians at the Planet', and also to have reconciled herself, without any puzzlement, to Clark's retraction of his love for her at the end of 'House of Luthor'.