This story was inspired by Lynda L, who edited my first fanfic, *Identity Crisis*, and said to me at one point those fatal words, "What if..." I don't know if this turned out the way Lynda imagined it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Usual disclaimer: the rights to the characters in this story belong to DC Comics, Warner Bros, December 3rd Productions and anyone else claiming legal title over them. This story is mine, but I acknowledge the 'borrowing' of certain incidents, and the very occasional line of dialogue, from Gene Miller and Karen Kavner's script for TOGOM.

Wendy Richards
w.m.richards@hrm.keele.ac.uk

Clark allowed his body to roll over several times as he hit the ground after being thrown from the car. He remained inert for a second or two until he was positive that the gangsters' car had gone, and then launched himself into the air.

He had no clear idea about where he should go. He drifted above the clouds and reflected on the intractable situation in which he now found himself. There seemed to be no way around it. Clark Kent was dead. Permanently, irretrievably, irrevocably dead. There seemed to him to be no plausible means of resurrecting himself without giving away the secret of his identity.

"Damn, damn, DAMN!" he yelled, safe in the knowledge that he would be audible to nothing except a few passing birds. *How* had he failed to see this coming? He had known, when Lois had suggested conning their way into the gambling den, that it would be dangerous. He was also well aware of the reputations of Clyde, Capone and the others. In the 1920s, no crime had been too extreme for them. Murder was, for them, an everyday activity. But he had assumed that his super-powers would be sufficient to protect Lois and himself.

He hadn't counted on being shot at point-blank range, in front of half the gangsters and gamblers in Metropolis.

Not even his super-fast reactions had been able to work out a way to avoid having the bullet hit him in the centre of the chest.

And since he hadn't wanted to reveal to all and sundry, there and then, that Superman was actually Clark Kent, he had simply had to play dead. He had made himself stagger backwards and fall, and then forced himself to lie inert while he was dragged out of the room and bundled into a car.

Lois had bent over him, sobbing, before she had been pulled roughly away by one of the mob. He could still, even now, hear her cries echoing over and over inside his head. She had screamed his name, while tears had streamed from her face and fallen onto his body. It had almost wrenched his heart from his body not to be able to comfort her.

"Lois!" he now choked out, suddenly remembering that, in allowing himself to be thought dead, he had left her in that gambling den on her own. God only knew what might have happened to her! Berating himself for his preoccupation with his own situation, he quickly changed clothes in mid-air and flew back down to the city.

Superman flew slowly over the club and X-rayed the premises to see whether Lois was still there. She wasn't. He considered the options, and flew to the nearest police station. Hovering in the air, he 'looked' inside. Success!

Lois was there, still in the same red dress she had worn in the club. Her hair, usually so glossy and smooth, was dishevelled and her cheeks were smeared with tears and mascara. He noticed that Perry was with her, with his arm around her shoulders. He focused his super-hearing, unsure whether to join them.

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

"Lois, you sure Clark was really... dead...and not just hurt?" Perry asked tentatively.

Lois nodded, then choked, "Yes. I mean, he had to be. He was shot right up close... no-one could have survived that. He... he fell backwards..." She broke off, temporarily unable to continue.

Perry pressed a cotton handkerchief into her hand. "Take it easy, Lois."

"No, it's all right, I..." she protested. "They dragged him out of there immediately. Capone said they didn't want any... *stiffs*... littering up the place and to get rid of him. I tried to go after them, but they held me back. I don't know where they took him. I don't know where Clark is. All I know is that he's dead!" she finished, near hysterical.

Perry's arm tightened around his star reporter. He was also close to tears. Although Clark had only been at the Planet a little over a year, Perry had grown very fond of the sincere, talented young man. He had recognised Clark as the son he would have liked to have; both of his sons were in different ways a disappointment to him and as a family they were not close. Perry had also watched with approval the developing friendship and closeness between Clark and Lois.

Now, his worst nightmare had come true: he was sitting in a downtown police station supporting Lois as she reported the murder of her best friend and partner.

"Lois, honey," he began as a thought struck him, "has anyone told Clark's parents yet?"

Lois raised shocked, tear-filled eyes to his. "Oh my God - Jonathan and Martha! They'll be devastated - Clark was their only son. I could see, every time I met them, how much they love... loved him... and how much he loved them." She sobbed again, and blew her nose. "It sounds horrible, Perry, but I was always so jealous, you know? I really wished my family had been like Clark's."

Perry couldn't think of anything to say. "Ah, honey..." He held her tightly. After a while, he added, "I'll give them a call. At least coming from someone they know... well, hell, it's gotta be better than a call from some police officer they never even met." He swallowed, trying to choke back his own emotion as the reality of Clark's death flooded over him.

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

Clark had listened to this exchange with a vague feeling of guilt for eavesdropping on a private conversation. However, once Perry mentioned his parents, another realisation struck him.

<Oh my God, Mom and Dad!> he thought in horror, and shot off up into the air again. He knew that his parents would be well aware that an ordinary bullet could not kill him. However, not knowing anything about the situation, they might well worry. It might occur to them that Kryptonite could have been involved somewhere along the way, he knew. In which case, they might very well take Perry's phone call at face value.

A matter of minutes later, he landed softly in the back yard of the Kent farmhouse and spun quickly back into the suit he had been wearing earlier. He then entered the kitchen, calling, "Hi... Mom and Dad? You guys around?"

Martha looked up from the worktop where she was preparing Jonathan's night-time drink. "Hi sweetie... what on earth happened to your jacket?"

"My jacket...?" Clark looked down at the offending item of clothing. He had completely forgotten about the bullet-hole - it appeared that his aura had not extended so far as to protect his outer garment from damage.

Martha then noticed the agonised, despairing expression on her son's face. "Jonathan!" she called. She then crossed to Clark, took his arm and led him to the kitchen table. "Sit," she instructed.

Minutes later, with a mug of his mother's special hot chocolate and a slice of pie in front of him, Clark related the evening's events to his parents. "So you see, Mom, Dad, I had no alternative - I *had* to pretend to be dead. And now Lois thinks I'm dead, and Perry too... and Perry's going to call you to tell you and... I'm not sure what to do." He stared into his half-empty mug, as if that would give him inspiration.

"Oh my word, Clark..." Martha breathed.

"This sure is a difficult one, son," Jonathan commented. "There aren't any easy answers here."

"What do you want to do, sweetie? " Martha asked.

"What do *I* want?" Clark asked incredulously. "Do you need to ask? - I want my *life* back! I want to be able to get on with my job, see my friends.. just carry on as *normal*! But how can I? The life I had doesn't exist any more. *Clark* doesn't exist any more."

"Of course you do!" Martha assured him. "You're not dead! People just think you are."

"But what use is that?" Clark demanded. "I can't just go back to Metropolis, walk into the newsroom and say 'hey guys, guess what, I'm back!' There's no way I could explain it, unless..."

"Unless what, son?" asked Jonathan.

"Unless... I tell everyone I'm Superman." Clark dragged out the words, unwilling even to voice the thought. He had fought so hard to keep his secret identity hidden, for so many good reasons - including the need to have an ordinary life, and to protect those he loved. But now that he was faced with the possibility of either never being able to return to his life and probably having to go overseas (since all his parents' neighbours would know that he was supposed to be dead), or revealing his secret, he was unsure which option was the least unappealing.

Martha and Jonathan, sitting close together, watched their son anxiously. "You'd be willing to do that?" Martha asked after a few moments.

"I... don't know." Clark replied slowly. "Maybe." He hesitated. "But I don't want to put you guys in danger, so I... I guess I need to think it over. I'm too... close to it all to decide just yet."

"We understand, honey," Martha assured him. "But maybe you shouldn't take too long, you know."

Clark raised his eyes to meet the wise face of his adopted mother, the only mother he had known. "There're other people hurting besides me, you mean," he said slowly, realising what she was getting at.

"Well, aren't there?" Martha asked him. "You told us yourself how upset Lois is."

"Yeah, I know, Mom. And I would have given anything to be able to hold her and comfort her."

"There's nothing stopping you," Jonathan pointed out. "You've told us yourself that she's used to Superman calling on her..."

"Yeah..." Clark agreed slowly. He found the thought of visiting Lois as Superman strangely repugnant, however, although he couldn't really understand why. But it dawned on him that it was as *Clark* he wanted to see Lois... only he couldn't.

He got to his feet. "I think I should go."

"Why?" Martha asked. "Stay here and get a night's sleep; time enough to fly back to Metropolis in the morning."

Clark was tempted. But he really needed to think through what he was going to do, and the last thing he wanted to do in that case was sleep. Resolutely, he faced his parents.

"No. I'm going to get back. I'm not sure yet what to do, but I want to think about it and I do that best when I'm flying." He kissed Martha and hugged his father. "I'll call you guys soon - I promise."

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

Back at the Planet, Lois, assisted by Perry, had written the most difficult and painful story of her life. The front page of the late morning edition had been cleared for the lead story recounting the death of a Planet journalist in the line of duty. One of the worst aspects, as far as Lois was concerned, was the sidebar with the updated police report: there was still no sign of the body of Clark Kent. She was now slumped in her chair, unable to find the energy or motivation to do anything else.

"What if they never find him?" she asked Perry in an anguished voice. "He could be anywhere - they could have dropped him off the end of Metropolis Harbour in the back of a car, he could have been thrown in a car compactor... wait a minute, didn't they used to bury people in concrete?"

"Lois, now honey, please don't," Perry pleaded with her. "You know that doesn't help any.... The King knows it's only gonna upset you even more." He placed his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of support, finding it difficult to know what to say. He knew that Lois was right. There was every possibility that Clark's body would never be found. And that would mean that his parents would never be able to give him a proper funeral, and that everyone who loved him - and that included Perry himself - would always be haunted with thoughts of what might have happened to the body.

Lois now turned to look up at Perry, perched on the edge of her desk. His heart turned over to see her white, tear-streaked face, the pain and anguish in her eyes, and her desolate expression. She caught his arm.

"Perry... it was all my fault, you know."

"What was?" Perry was momentarily thrown by the change in topic.

"That Clark got shot - that we were there at all! He didn't want to go... he told me it could be dangerous, but I wouldn't listen." She shook her head, unable to believe her own stupidity in bringing them into such a hazardous situation. "I didn't listen... and when we were inside, Dillinger made a move on me, and Clark... all he did was let the guy know we were together - he was trying to *protect* me, Perry! And for that... for that..." Lois's voice fell almost to a whisper, "just for that, he got killed. *I* got him killed!"

"Now Lois, honey, don't go blaming yourself," Perry said soothingly. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't to know what was going to happen - how could you? And Clark's - Clark was - a grown man. Now you know what he was like: he was perfectly capable of telling you when he didn't think the two of you should do something. Oh sure, most of the time he went along with what you suggested, but I've seen him put his foot down more than once."

Lois nodded. Perry was right - up to a point. "But he still died protecting me," she insisted.

"Lois, sweetheart, that boy would have laid down his life for you and been happy to do it, you know that." As he spoke, Perry's eyes focused on Clark's empty desk. How many times had he looked out across the newsroom from the vantage point of his editor's office and caught Clark gazing at Lois? He had known for some time that Clark was in love with Lois, and had nursed a secret hope that one day his favourite reporter would see beyond Clark's boyish smile and good-humoured manner to realise that he was the best thing that could ever happen to her. But it was too late now...

And what was more, Perry thought, turning to Lois to see that she was also staring at the vacant desk, perhaps at last she had realised how much she cared...

Just then Jimmy advanced hesitantly. "Chief..."

"Yes, what is it, Jimmy?" Perry's voice was weary. He had had just about the worst night of his time as editor of the Planet, and he wasn't sure if he could take any more.

"I'm sorry, Chief, I didn't want to interrupt, but you said you wanted to see this as soon as it was ready," Jimmy explained, holding up a mock-up of the front page. Perry turned to face the young man. Jimmy's face was pale and drawn, and there were traces of tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, son... I guess I forgot you were close to Clark too." The editor slowly dragged himself to his feet, and laid his hand on Jimmy's shoulder briefly. He then turned his attention to the mock-up. The page had a black border, and above Lois and Perry's byline was the headline "Planet reporter killed in line of duty." Perry sighed. "That's the hardest headline I've ever had to approve in all my time as editor." He dragged himself to his feet and added, "OK, Jimmy, tell them they can run with it.

As Jimmy went off, Perry turned to Lois. "You're coming home with me, honey. I've already called Alice and she's made up the spare bed."

Lois tried valiantly to shake off some of her misery. "That's sweet, Perry, but really, I'd rather be in my own place."

"Lois honey, you shouldn't be on your own at a time like this!" Perry protested.

But she shook her head. "Really, I want to be on my own. It's OK." She got to her feet and picked up her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ah, no, Lois," Perry groaned. "You don't need to come in."

She looked back at him with more spirit than she had shown since he had met her at the police station. "Perry, I have to. We have to find Clark's killers. It's the only thing I can do for him now - that and find his body. I *have* to do this. You can't stop me."

<No>, Perry thought, <No-one can stop Lois Lane with the bit between her teeth.> "Yeah, I know. I talked with Mr. Stern a while ago, and the Planet's offering a reward for information leading to the arrest of Capone, Dillinger, Bonnie, Clyde and the others, or finding Clark's body. We're doing all we can."

Lois nodded. "I know. And I'm grateful. I'm sure Martha and Jonathan will be too. You spoken to them?"

"Yeah, couple of hours ago," Perry replied with a slow shake of his head. "I sure hate telling people that kind of news. They were upset, but they asked me to give you their love. They said they'd call you soon."

<How like Clark's parents> Lois thought. <Even in the middle of what must be the worst moment of their lives, they can still think of other people.> She said goodnight to Perry again and headed for the elevator. The night porter in the lobby would get her a taxi.

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

Some hours after leaving Smallville, Superman floated in mid-air outside Lois's apartment. He had spent the intervening time undertaking one of what he called his rare pilgrimages to the Arctic; there was no-one around there to see the Man of Steel in his despair or hear him scream. It had been the perfect place to go after Lois had agreed to marry Lex Luthor, for that precise reason. Tonight, he had simply paced up and down, ideas flashing in and out of his mind but always coming back to the same conclusion: unless he told the world he was Superman, Clark Kent was dead.

Finally, he had decided to return to Metropolis; not that he was entirely sure where he would go, he realised. He couldn't go to his apartment. However, he flew back to the city anyway. He'd felt as if he was being drawn by some invisible thread to the city which he had made his home. <How can I leave here?!> he asked himself, agonised, as he flew. His flight took him over the Planet and he had paused briefly, taking in the giant globe and the newspaper seller advertising the early edition. The last edition which would carry any of Clark Kent's work...

Then, without conscious thought, he found himself arriving at Lois's apartment. He avoided the window, unsure yet whether he wanted to be seen. Instead, he looked through the wall, and his heart tied itself in knots at the sight which greeted him.

Lois was squatting on her sofa, dressed in sweat-pants and a loose T-shirt. She was clutching the framed photograph of herself and Clark taken at last year's Kerth awards, and tears were again streaming down her face. He listened; she was sobbing, and the words "Clark; oh Clark, I miss you. Please come back," were audible through the sobs.

She looked so wretched, Clark thought. He couldn't bear to watch any longer. Without any conscious thought, he realised his decision was made. There was only one thing he wanted to do. He floated over to Lois's window and tapped several times.

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

Lois felt drained. She had cried until there were no tears left; then there were just great gulping sobs. She clutched the photograph as if it was the most precious thing in the world to her. Images kept flashing into her mind: Clark at the Planet, bringing her coffee and reading her work over her shoulder; Clark and she watching videos at his or her apartment; the two of them on stakeouts; the two of them at the Kerths, with her arm through his. Clark hugging her spontaneously when an investigation suddenly fell into place. Talking to Clark on the phone last thing at night; sharing a joke with him at work.

More painful memories: the first night she and Clark had done an all-nighter at the Planet and she'd caught him *looking* at her... <Don't fall for me, farmboy...>... Lois winced and thought that she'd do anything not to have voiced that cutting put-down. She had been unkind to him many times in those first few months, but other than one practical joke he had never retaliated. And he had ended up being her best friend, the closest friend she had ever had. He had been there for her when she'd been frightened, after Winninger was killed, then when the Prankster was threatening her... always providing support, giving her his time and his affection generously.

<And I was so cruel to him when he told me he loved me!> she reminded herself. <I wouldn't listen to him when he tried to warn me about Luthor, and I just accused him of trying to further his own ends... OK, he said afterwards he had lied about loving me, but... > she started suddenly and stared at Clark's face in the photograph. He hadn't meant it!

Suddenly it all seemed so clear. Lois had never quite understood Clark's retraction outside the Planet. But it all made sense if he'd been lying *then*, not earlier. Of course he'd been lying! He'd been afraid that they might not be able to carry on working together if she knew he was suffering from unrequited love for her. So he'd taken back his declaration.

"Clark, oh Clark! I miss you! Please come back to me," she sobbed, barely aware of what she was saying.

Just then a familiar tapping sound forced its way into her consciousness, and she jerked her head up to look in the direction of the source of the sound. Superman was outside her window.

Lois didn't move at first. She realised that, perhaps for the first time, she didn't really want to see Superman. She vaguely wondered why: she'd always been so happy in his company before.

The tapping resumed, and Superman called, a little anxiously, Lois thought, "Lois? Are you all right?"

She padded slowly to the window and opened it, standing back to let the Man of Steel enter. He stood in front of her, his brown eyes concerned. "Lois - I've been worried about you."

"Really?" She faced him, her tear-streaked face angry. "How come you weren't so concerned a few hours ago, when Clark was getting killed?" Lois now realised why she had not wanted to speak to Superman. At the back of her mind, ever since the incident, had been the thought: where was Superman? Why didn't he save Clark?

Superman reached out his hand to touch Lois, but she flinched away. As she did so, she caught his expression: for a moment the usual remote, Superman-like mask disappeared and he looked... hurt. Just like... a whipped puppy-dog, she thought. Just like... Clark... when I was unkind...

She turned away, confused. Was she now seeing Clark in every man whose physical appearance was similar?

"Lois..." Superman spoke again. "I... need to talk to you. About what happened this evening."

He was oddly hesitant. Lois was puzzled; Superman wasn't normally like that. He was usually so sure of himself, so confident. She realised that he must also be upset about Clark; after all, she'd known the two were friends.

She turned around towards him again, still clutching the photograph to her chest. "Superman...?"

He met her eyes. "Lois, there's something I need to tell you." His voice was gentle, nothing like... Superman's. Lois wondered what was going on. He continued to look at her, his gaze compelling.

"Lois, look at me. Look hard. What do you see?"

She stared, slowly... beginning to comprehend.

"*Who* do you see?"

Lois's mouth dropped open and the photograph frame slipped from her nerveless fingers. She stared into Superman's face...

... the face of...

Clark.

In a blur, Clark put on his glasses. If Lois hadn't already figured it out, that would have been the final proof she'd needed.

"It's me, Lois," Clark said softly.

<Clark. He's not dead. He's here. He's... Superman.>

Lois ran to him. Clark held open his arms, convinced that she was going to throw herself into them. But instead, she launched her fists at him, pummelling the 'S' on his chest. He gripped her wrists tightly enough to hold them, but not enough to hurt.

"Lois, no, you'll only hurt yourself," he chided her, concerned. "You must know you can't hurt me." <Not physically, at any rate> he added silently.

Lois thought that she had run out of tears. But now they started to flow again, running in hot streams down her face. "How *could* you do that to me?" she yelled. "You let me think you'd been *killed* - you lay there on the ground and let me cry all over you... and all the time... you were... you were - *Superman*!" She pulled away from him, and he released her wrists.

"Lois," Clark protested. "It wasn't as simple as that. What could I do? *Not* pretend to die - and have everyone know who I am?" He flung his arm out towards her in emphasis. "That's certainly not the way I wanted to tell you..."

"You mean you did want to tell me? Weren't you planning to keep me ignorant forever? The little Superman groupie to make you feel good about your macho super-powers!" she flung back at him sarcastically.

Clark shook his head vehemently. "When have I *ever* behaved in a 'macho' manner - towards you or anyone else, Lois? There are... reasons why I didn't tell you before, but as we... became closer friends, I knew I wanted you to know the whole truth." He took a shuddering breath. Would he *ever* understand Lois Lane? He'd thought she would be happy that he was alive - and he'd wanted to ask for her help! Yet here she was accusing him of all sorts of crimes just because he'd had to keep his identity a secret. Oh sure, he probably did owe her a number of explanations, but why couldn't she see that this wasn't the time for them?

"What reasons?" Lois demanded.

"What reasons..." he echoed, bewildered; despite all his super-powers, the way Lois's mind could dart off on a tangent was frequently difficult even for him to keep up with. "I couldn't tell *anyone* I'm Superman, Lois! Can't you imagine what would have happened if everyone knew? I would *never* be able to have a normal life - that's why I came up with the disguise in the first place. He sighed, ran his hands through his hair and faced her again. "I have these... *powers* ... things I can do that no-one else can. I can't just ignore them. Yet if people know I have them, I'll have no privacy, and the people I love will become targets for criminals. I *had* to keep Superman's real identity secret - don't you understand?"

Lois took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She dragged the hem of her T-shirt across her eyes and moved back towards the sofa, away from Clark. "Superman -"

"Clark," he interrupted.

"Clark..." she began, then broke off. "Sorry. I find it hard to think of you as Clark. You - you still *look* like Superman, except for the glasses."

"I *am* Clark," he said quietly. "But if it'll help..." He glanced around to make sure that he wasn't too close to any items of furniture or ornaments, and spun. When he stopped, he was dressed in the jeans and Kansas State University sweatshirt he had collected from the farmhouse before leaving.

Lois's jaw had dropped while Clark had carried out his quick-change routine. "How do you... *do* that? All I could see was a blur!"

He smiled briefly, although his expression was still grim. "A useful trick, with the benefit of super-speed, that's all. Lois, *do* you understand why I couldn't tell you?"

"I understand why you couldn't tell *people*, sure," she said in a brittle tone. "That doesn't explain why you didn't tell *me*. We were partners - we were also best friends, I thought. Couldn't you *trust* me?"

<Oh hell> Clark thought. <Of course Lois would bring up that one - the same argument I've had with myself for weeks...>. His frustration made him impatient. He spoke in a resolute, almost angry tone. "Lois. Of course I trust you. You must be well aware of that, after all we've been through together. I've also shown you, as Superman, that I trust you; I've told you things about me, as him, that no-one else knows, and I didn't extract any promises from you that you wouldn't print them. I *trusted* you not to. But as for the fact that Superman is really *me* - be honest, Lois, how would you have felt in my position if the most important person in your life hero-worshipped you in one guise and then mostly ignored you in the other?"

Lois was shocked. She reacted to his anger the only way she knew how: with anger. "I did *not* ignore you, Clark!"

"Yes, you did," he said sadly. "Oh yeah, we're colleagues and we became friends, but you never really saw me, Lois. If you had done - you're the person who knows me best, apart from my parents. If you'd *really* paid any attention to me, you'd have worked this out long ago. But you were too busy chasing after a cartoon cut-out in a blue suit and a flashy red cape to notice. And the irony is that if only you had taken the trouble to see me, the *real* me, you could have had the suit and the cape as well." He sighed, and walked towards the window. "I think I should go, Lois. This isn't getting either of us anywhere."

Lois had listened to Clark's tirade in silence. His words had hurt her, as it appeared they had been intended to do, but she was fair-minded enough to admit that there was a lot of justice in what Clark had said. She *had* ignored him in favour of the super-hero; she had been well aware that Clark was romantically interested in her, but had deliberately given him no opportunity to pursue that interest. And as she remembered how she had been crying earlier, remembering all of the lost opportunities with Clark, she felt guilty for her treatment of him now. This was *not* how she'd promised herself she would behave if by some miracle her prayers were answered and Clark came back to her....

"Clark, wait," she called as he pushed the window open.

He turned, his expression revealing his insecurity and pain.

"Please, don't go. You're right about a number of things, I guess. I haven't been very fair to you, and I did romanticise about Superman. I'm pretty embarrassed about a lot of that now, and that doesn't make this situation easy for me. I'm also hurt that you didn't tell me this until now - until I thought you were dead. I can understand why you didn't tell me, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." As Lois spoke, she focussed her soft brown eyes directly on his face, in unconscious pleading.

Clark stilled. He had always found Lois difficult to resist, and it seemed that she genuinely wanted him to stay. After a moment, he said quietly, "You're right, I did hurt you just now, and it was unnecessary and unfair. I'm sorry, Lois - it's just that the situation has been... difficult... for me for some time now. I'm glad you know now." He came back towards the centre of the room, and added, "I really was going to tell you soon - I was just waiting until the time was right." He paused, watching her, hoping she would trust and believe him. "I guess tonight the time *was* right."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why tell me now?"

"Why?" he echoed. "It's obvious, surely - I couldn't let you go on believing I was dead-"

"You let me believe it for long enough!" she retorted, remembering the pain and grief she had suffered that evening. "Did you enjoy watching me cry over you?" She instantly regretted her words, and added, "No, please, Clark, forget I said that. I didn't mean it."

"Lois, how can you think that?" he shot at her, appalled. "I *hated* it! But I've been kinda - busy since the shooting. I did go back to the club to check that you were OK, after they dumped me, but you'd gone. I followed you to the police station and saw you with Perry, but when I heard him say he was going to call my folks, I realised I had to go to Smallville. I didn't want them thinking I'd been killed."

Lois, perched on the edge of her sofa, said, puzzled, "But don't your parents... they must *know* about you?"

"Yeah, sure," Clark said. "But there are things that can kill me - *you* know that - so I had to see them."

"Oh," Lois replied, in a small voice. Suddenly she felt guilty again, for demanding that Clark should have put her needs first, above those of his parents.

"Then... I spent a couple of hours walking around - up in the Arctic Circle - just trying to decide what to do," Clark added in a weary tone. "Oh, not about you - I *wanted* you to know I was alive. But I needed to think about just what the *hell* I'm going to do about this situation."

Lois suddenly realised that, in all her questioning of Clark's motives and his actions towards her, she had completely lost sight of the most important issue in all of this, and how it affected Clark. She got to her feet and went to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Clark, I'm so sorry - I've been so selfish and I completely ignored what you're going through. People think you're *dead* - what are we going to do about it?"

He gave her a grateful smile, covering her hand with his. "I hoped you'd be willing to help, Lois. I've been thinking about this for hours - I talked about it with my folks too - and as far as I can see I only have three options. I don't much care for any of them, but I don't have much choice." He sighed. He was no further along than he had been earlier that evening: he was still officially dead, and even though telling Lois the truth had helped ease the pain of believing that he had lost her from his life - whatever sort of life he had left - Lois's knowing didn't alter the reality of his situation.

Lois took his hand and led him to the sofa, inviting him to sit next to her. She studied his face, noting the emotions which were so transparent in his expression: despair, longing, hopelessness... and decided that they would find a solution. Together. Deliberately striking an upbeat note, she asked, "So - what are the options?"

Clark smiled wryly, recognising Lois's tactics, and loving her for it. "Option one - the worst - is to go somewhere new, as far away from America as I can, and start again with a new identity."

"No!" Lois interrupted him. "How can you think of... I thought you'd died tonight. I *won't* let you disappear again, not after I've just got you back!"

<I won't let you disappear again...> Lois's words echoed around in Clark's head. She *did* care about him; well, it had been obvious that she had some feelings for him when he'd caught her sobbing her heart out, thinking he was dead. Maybe there was a possibility that he and Lois *could* have a real relationship after all... Clark's heart sank as reality intruded into his wishful thinking. However Lois really felt about him, his current predicament would prevent any progress in that direction.

"I don't want to do that either, Lois," he sighed. "The next option is to let Clark Kent stay dead, but remain in Metropolis as Superman." Clark wondered how Lois would respond to this one, and watched her carefully. As he'd pointed out to her a short time ago, she had hero-worshipped Superman. Would she want the superhero around instead of him, Clark?

Lois considered what this option would mean. "You'd be Superman all the time... you wouldn't be able to work as a reporter, go to movies, spend evenings in watching videos, go out with friends... Clark, that wouldn't be any kind of a life! No, you just can't do that!" She stared at him in appalled contemplation of the reality of his proposal. "And anyway, I just told you I want Clark back. Not just here, in the privacy of my apartment in the few minutes you could steal to come and see me when you're not out saving someone. I want to work with you during the day, to spend time with you, as my partner, my friend... *You*, not Superman!"

Studying her face, as well as listening to her words, Clark recognised the sincerity of what she was saying, and he reached out his hand to slide his palm along her jawline and into her hair. "Thank you, Lois," he whispered. "It's good to know you feel that way." Inwardly, he felt like singing for joy - Lois preferred him, Clark, to the character in the suit.

"Of course I do," Lois assured him. "I'm sorry if it didn't sound like I did - earlier, I mean. I'm over that now."

"You mean you forgive me?" he asked.

"Of course - you're my best friend, after all," she replied. "I just hope you forgive me, too." His beautiful smile, and the pressure of his hand on her shoulder, where he had let it rest, assured her that he did. "So," Lois continued, "what's the third option? It's got to be better than the other two."

"I don't know," Clark mused. "This one's where I tell everyone the truth."

"That you're Superman?" Lois stared at him, incredulous.

"Well, that achieves two of the most important aims," Clark pointed out. "One: Clark Kent stays alive, and two: I stay in Metropolis."

"But for what sort of life?" Lois exclaimed in disbelief. "You just said a while ago that you invented Superman so you could have a normal - *private* - life, and so that people close to you would be safe. How on earth will telling the world you're Superman help you there?"

"It won't, Lois," he said. "I know that. But at this moment I don't *have* a life. And I want my life back." He sighed, drew back his hand and ran it through his hair in an agitated gesture. Lois watched him. His expression was again close to despair. The anger of earlier had disappeared entirely, and he now looked like a man who had lost just about everything he held dear. She reached for him and enfolded him in her arms. He clung to her for several moments, then pulled away.

"Thanks, Lois - I needed that." He gave her another wry smile. "I'm very lucky to have you to talk to - you and my parents. I don't know how I'd have got through tonight without that. I know I could have come and told you I was alive earlier -"

"No, Clark," Lois interrupted. "I can see what you're going through - you had too much on your mind. And you're right - your parents did have to come first." She squeezed his hand gently, and as she did so realised just why she had always thought his muscle tone was extremely taut. In an attempt to distract him from his melancholy, she said in a teasing tone, "Sometime you can tell me just why you went to the Arctic - sounds like kind of a strange place. Wouldn't any mountain-top have done?"

He grinned, and said, "Someday. The Arctic and I have a special affinity, you could say." Stretching his big body a little, he added, "Any chance of some coffee? I'm not really into drinking glaciers, and I'm kinda thirsty."

Lois made coffee, and as she did so they talked. Lois did not want Clark to reveal his secret to everyone, and as he wasn't especially keen on that either, they agreed to do nothing for the time being. "Before anything else, we need to get Capone and the others under lock and key," Lois pointed out. "They're causing far too much havoc, and now that we know they won't stop at murder, who knows what they'll do next." Clark agreed that this was important, and that as Superman he was better placed to help the police than as Clark.

"You can still come in to the Planet," Lois suggested. "We could tell Perry that Superman is worried that I might be a target because I'm investigating the gangsters, and that you want to protect me - and you also want to find Clark's killers. After all, it's well known that Superman and you - I mean, Clark - are friends."

"I *am* Clark, Lois," he pointed out softly.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm getting used to your being Superman, too. I'll just have to remember to call you Superman over the next few days, though." <And continue to pretend that Clark is dead, and look upset over it> she thought, but didn't voice her thought aloud. Clark was upset enough about his predicament as it was.

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

Later that night, after Lois had gone to bed, Clark lay floating over the sofa in her living-room, thinking. Strangely, he realised that he felt more optimistic about his situation than he had done earlier, despite the fact that nothing had really changed. That was Lois's doing, he decided. Lois, the eternal optimist, the continual believer in the maxim that things would work out, that there was always a solution to every problem.

Reflecting on events, Clark admitted that he had become somewhat arrogant as Superman, believing that his powers made him somehow omnipotent, that there was nothing he couldn't do. This incident had certainly brought him down to earth with a thump.

They had talked some more over coffee, and Lois had done her best to remain upbeat; Clark had realised that she was deliberately being cheerful in order to boost his spirits, and this concern for his well-being had simply made him love her all the more. He had phoned his parents and explained that he was deferring a decision on the appropriate course of action for the time being; Martha and Jonathan had been supportive of him, and relieved that he was with Lois and had told her the truth. They had suggested coming to Metropolis themselves; as Jonathan had pointed out, their son was supposed to have been murdered, and in the circumstances it would be expected that they would come.

Clark had resisted that suggestion. "Dad, it'd be too difficult to have you guys around at the moment - I can't go near my apartment in case someone recognises me. Can we talk about it again tomorrow? You could tell the police - and Perry, if he asks - that you need to make some arrangements for the farm - you know, the livestock. And you'll be here in a couple of days." His parents had agreed, reluctantly, with the reassurance that Clark had Lois on hand for company and comfort.

Later, Clark had tentatively suggested to Lois that he ought to be going. He'd been surprised when she had instantly vetoed that idea.

"And just where are you going to go to?" she'd asked in a challenging tone. "You can't go to your apartment - not under these circumstances."

"No, I guess not," he'd replied. He *had* been aware of that, and had vaguely considered going back to Smallville for the night, or possibly just flying for hours.

"You're staying here," Lois had insisted. When he'd protested, she had made it clear that she didn't want him to leave, and that in any case he shouldn't take the chance that anyone might see him. She had offered him her bed, but he had insisted on taking the sofa. Surprised, she had objected that he was too tall to be able to lie in any degree of comfort on it.

"And you could?" he suggested sceptically. "Lois, now that you know about me... I don't actually need a bed, or anything like that, to sleep on - I don't really need to sleep anyway, not as much as humans do, at any rate." He'd regretted his choice of words as he saw Lois's reaction.

"You're Kryptonian... I keep forgetting, Clark," she'd murmured slowly. "You... don't *look* any different from any ordinary man."

"I'm not, Lois," he'd reassured her. "I won't offer to prove it, but... physically there's no difference. I can just do... certain things that other people can't. As far as I know, and I don't know very much, my biological parents sent me to Earth because Kryptonian physiology is very similar to humans'." He'd smiled at her, hoping that she wasn't going to start treating him differently now. "Anyway, as far as the sofa goes, I can sleep anywhere - I can float." He had demonstrated by raising his body several feet into the air and lying horizontally with his head propped on an elbow. "See?"

Her initial reaction had been to stare open-mouthed; then she'd grinned and said, "Show-off!" then crossed to him and ruffled his hair with her fingers. Clark, touched by this spontaneous demonstration of affection, had floated back to the floor and laid his hands gently on Lois's shoulders. Looking deeply into her eyes, he spoke in sincere tones,

"I'm still Clark, Lois, your best friend if you still want me. And I want you to know that I'm very grateful for your friendship and support tonight."

Lois had met his eyes, and slid her hand up his jaw to caress his face. "Of course you're still my best friend, Clark. And in case I didn't make myself clear earlier, I'm *very* glad you're alive. I don't know how I'd have gone on without you."

It was impossible later to say which one of them had moved first, but then they were enfolded tightly in each other's arms, hugging as if they never wanted to let go. Clark had been very tempted to kiss Lois, but he knew that if he started - and always assuming she had let him - he would have found it difficult to stop. And their lives were complicated enough at the moment without anything else getting in the way...

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

As Lois entered the newsroom the following morning there was a definite air of gloom in the atmosphere. She had picked up a copy of the Planet on her way in, and the story of Clark's 'death' dominated the front page. Jimmy and Perry had between them selected a photograph of Clark: one of his better ones, Lois thought. Rather than a posed studio portrait or one of those awful passport-style photos which never showed anyone in their best light, this one had caught Clark in a casual moment. Lois guessed that Jimmy had taken it one day when he'd been fooling around in the newsroom with the camera. In the photo, Clark's face was slightly turned away from the camera, and he was smiling at something in the distance. His expression was relaxed and happy. That, counterposed with the bleak headline, gave a strong suggestion of a young man cut off in the prime of his life.

<If I didn't know the truth> Lois mused, <seeing this would make everything so much worse>.

She had deliberately dressed down for the office today. Perry and the others would expect her still to be upset and saddened by the death of her partner. She had put on little make-up, and selected an old jumper and baggy leggings, both in a dark grey colour. Clark had agreed that he would meet her at the Planet a little later on, neither of them wanting to draw immediate attention to themselves by having Superman accompany Lois to the Planet. Clark had insisted, however, that he would be watching her from the air to make sure that she was all right.

Now, as she walked to her desk, Lois was aware that many of her colleagues were avoiding looking at her. She considered that perhaps they didn't know what to say; after all, Clark was her partner and it was common knowledge that they were close friends. It was also known, as a result of the Planet's front page story, that Clark had been shot while protecting Lois.

Perry hurried from his office when he saw Lois arrive. He looked tired and appeared to have aged several years in the past twelve hours. She immediately felt guilty as she realised that although she might be aware that Clark wasn't dead, other people at the Planet who cared about him did not.

"Lois, honey, how're you feeling?" Perry's Southern drawl penetrated her musings.

"Perry - oh, OK, I guess. It's still kind of... hard to take in," she replied, hoping that she still sounded convincingly grief-stricken.

"Yeah, it is," the editor replied. "I've been in the newspaper business longer than you've been alive, Lois, and I've reported on the deaths of colleagues before, but this... it's like it's all a bad dream. Except that there's no chance of any of us waking up from it any time soon."

Lois grimaced in sympathy. "I know what you mean, Perry." She glanced down at her desk, wishing that she was able to tell Perry the truth. "All we can do, though, is try to get those gangsters put behind bars so they can't carry on causing mayhem."

"Yeah, but don't you go taking any unnecessary risks, now, Lois," Perry began. He clearly intended to continue, but was interrupted.

"Don't worry, Mr. White, I fully intend to see that she doesn't."

"Superman!" Perry exclaimed, echoed by Jimmy and one or two other staffers. Lois turned and saw the Man of Steel floating just inside the large Planet window, arms crossed in front of his chest. Clark allowed himself to land a few feet from Lois and Perry, and inclined his head politely in greeting.

"Uh - good morning, Superman," Perry said, still surprised at his unexpected guest.

"I guess you know about CK," Jimmy ventured.

"Yeah, I heard," Superman replied. "I wasn't able to do anything to stop it, which I very much regret. But I spent some time talking with Lois last night, and she's agreed to help me find the people responsible and put them in prison. I certainly won't let her come to any harm, though, I can assure you. But I do need Lois's help, because she's seen all of the gang members."

"Well, of course. Let us know if there's anything the Planet can do to help," Perry said. "We're offering a reward for information leading to the capture of Capone and his mob, and another for finding Clark's body - Lois told you the police still haven't found it?" Perry regretted his words immediately and glanced towards Lois to ensure that she hadn't been too upset by his reference to Clark's missing body. She seemed not to have noticed, however.

Superman thanked Perry for his offer, and replied that he intended to spend some time at the Planet over the next day or so, and so would be grateful for somewhere to work, and for he and Lois to be left alone to get on with what they were doing. Perry glanced around the office looking for spare workspace, but only came up with Clark's desk. He caught Jimmy's eye and realised that Jimmy had had the same thought. Jimmy moved to Perry's side and whispered, "Chief, no, not CK's desk."

Perry shook his head and murmured, "No, son, I wasn't thinking of it. It'd be too upsetting for Lois." He was about to reply to Superman, but was pre-empted. Clark had heard the whispered conversation, although he had tried to ignore his super-hearing. Trying to hide the hurt of being told that he couldn't even work at his own desk, he spoke reassuringly to his editor and friend.

"Mr White, I wouldn't dream of causing anyone any problems. I can pull up a chair to Lois's desk."

"No, no, son, I couldn't have that," Perry protested. "The conference room - it's not in use today. You and Lois are welcome to work in there."

Lois, listening to this exchange, glanced at Clark and spotted the tiny muscle twitching in his jaw and realised that he was finding this difficult to deal with. She eased herself in front of him and faced the editor. "Perry, Jimmy, thanks for your help, but I think we just need to get down to work. Jimmy, can you get us a list of all sightings of Clyde, Bonnie, Dillinger and Capone since they reappeared, and anything you can get on Georgie Hairdo's gambling club? We need to try to find out where they're hiding out."

"On it, Lois," Jimmy called, hurrying away. Perry also retreated to his office.

Lois then turned to Clark. "Coffee?"

He nodded. "Can we take it in there?" gesturing towards the conference room.

Part 2