So Strong a Foundation by Wendy Richards Rated PG Submitted March 2000 ------------------------ It would take much more than this To break a love so long in the making It would take much more than talk or dreams To shake so strong a foundation More than this - Chris de Burgh ------------------------- This story is a sequel to my fanfic 'A Love so Long in the Making,' published on the Archive late in 1998. The events in this story take place five or so years on from the end of 'Love so Long.' It might also help to have read the Big Boys Do Fly series. Oh, incidentally, although I don't normally give away spoilers, I want to reassure anyone who might wonder part-way through this story that it is *not* a deathfic ;) Thanks go to Yvonne Connell and Jenni Debbage for encouragement, cheerleading, editing and generally forming part of the fellow-writer support network. Thanks also to KathyB for a clear and intelligible explanation of US university titles! (Acknowledgements also to Kathy and Nancy Merckle, since I've adapted one of my favourite lines of dialogue from their excellent 'Movers and Shakers'). And also very grateful thanks again to the regulars on Zoom's message boards who acted as a test-audience and gave me some good ideas for the development of this story; Tank, sorry I didn't use your idea! Finally, very many thanks to LabRat for actually volunteering to GE this monster despite its length - you're a glutton for punishment! Rights to all recognisable characters in this story belong to DC Comics and Warner Bros, and no infringement is intended by their use in this story. Other characters, including Lois and Clark's children, Sarah Fuller and Conor, are my own invention. Comments, if any, to w.m.richards@hrm.keele.ac.uk, or wendy@kingsmeadowcr.freeserve.co.uk - So Strong a Foundation - It was almost dusk, and the tall young man striding across the tree-lined quadrangle seemed anxious to get to his destination. In the wintry half-light his features were difficult to distinguish, although his hair was clearly short and very black, and his jaw firm. He carried himself very slightly stooped, but still managed to give the impression of height. His steps then took him through one of the few remaining sunlit patches in the square, and as he walked the light reflected off the gold-framed spectacles which he wore. His profile was now also illuminated, and his faintly olive-skinned face wore an intent expression as if its owner was deep in thought, although the brown eyes were lively and intelligent. Suddenly, he paused; his head cocked, as if he was listening; then he glanced around quickly and darted into a side passage. A bare moment later, a sonic boom was audible as a red and blue-clad figure shot upwards and off to the east. ***************** The Super-hero had almost finished his task of extinguishing the flames which had threatened to engulf a hotel on the edge of the city when again he seemed to pause, listening. A moment later, he drifted upwards to confront a similarly-clad man, who at first sight could almost have been taken for the Super-hero's twin. A closer study, however, would have shown that the second man was actually some years older than his companion. "It's okay, Dad, I have it all under control," Son-of-Superman remarked in an amused tone, grinning at his father and Metropolis's original Superman. "You can get back home to Mom." "Good of you, Jon," Clark Kent replied, a humorous smile hovering around the corners of his mouth. "But I'm not ready to hang up my cape yet, you know." "Sure, I know that. But just this once, you can leave it to me." Clark inclined his head. "Thanks. I admit, I would like to get on home - you know we have Katy, Jimmy and the kids visiting tonight? They just got back from Africa yesterday." "Yeah, Mom called me at work earlier. I said I'd get over later if I can. See you, Dad." With that, Superman's son ducked swiftly downwards and dealt with what remained of the blaze, remaining afterwards to help the fire officers with their investigation of the cause. ******************* Much later that evening, Dr Jonathan Kent returned to his apartment in the bohemian suburb of Metropolis close to the university; although he had very much enjoyed spending time with his sister and her family, and catching up on their news, he was anxious to continue work on his latest book. He had intended to do at least an hour's work on the current chapter before heading over to his parents' home; the hotel fire had put paid to that, and he was anxious to make up for lost time. "Sleep - who needs it?" he murmured to himself in amusement as he booted up his computer. It was at times like these that Jon was especially grateful for his Kryptonian heritage; as his father had frequently told his mother, he needed very little sleep, and Jon had certainly taken after Clark in that way. He was perfectly able to cope without sleep for several days at a stretch, which - as Katy often reminded him, not without a faint hint of envy - was how he had managed to complete his PhD in just over two years, instead of the more usual three or four. Katy - Katherine Lane Kent Olsen (she only used the Olsen when dealing with her children's nursery) - had not inherited this aspect of their father's physiology. Of course, super-speed typing certainly helped as well, even more so after Dr Bernard Klein, a family friend, had got one of his proteges to come up with a keyboard and enhanced microprocessor which could cope with three hundred words a minute. Jon's movements on the keyboard stilled as he thought of his sister. Katy, now twenty-eight and two years his junior, had shocked most of their family and friends five years before when she had announced her engagement to a man twenty-six years her senior. Jimmy Olsen was another old family friend, an honorary uncle to the two Kent children as they'd grown up, and someone whom their parents regarded very highly. Jimmy had gone through tragedy in his past, but with Katy in his life was now looking young and carefree again; Jon had heard Lois comment on several occasions that since Jimmy had married Katy he was almost back to his old self in their early days at the Daily Planet. Jon had been neither shocked nor disapproving of the marriage; he had always realised that Katy was very mature for her years, and he had recognised her feelings for Jimmy many years before their parents had been told of the relationship. And, against the predictions of certain gloom-mongers, the marriage had worked extremely well. The two were now internationally known as a photojournalism team, reporting on the aftermath of war and natural disaster; they tended to spend half the year away on assignment and the other half back in Metropolis, writing articles for newspapers such as the Planet and in a series of best-selling, hard-hitting books. The children had travelled with them so far, although that wouldn't be possible for much longer. Katy and Jimmy's first child, a girl, had been born six months after the two were married, and little Karen Laura Lois Olsen had just turned five. Her younger brother, Michael Perry Olsen, had arrived almost three years afterwards, and parents and grandparents alike were anxiously waiting to determine whether the second generation of Kryptonian-Earth children would also inherit super-powers. Just in case, Bernard Klein had inoculated both Olsen children against Kryptonite, although Clark had not encountered any of that once-lethal substance for more than ten years. Still, as Lois tended to point out whenever this was mentioned, no-one knew what the corrupt time-traveller Tempus might be up to. The Tempus who had posed as the Presidential candidate John Doe was still in a high-security mental hospital, but it was perfectly possible that a younger version might take it into his head at any time to try to attack Superman's descendants, since he hadn't managed to destroy Clark Kent. Jon smiled as he remembered the day his parents had received the shock of their lives: being told that their daughter wanted to marry their best friend. Much as Clark and Lois loved Jimmy, he was their contemporary, not Katy's, and the break-up of his marriage after the death in infancy of his daughter Laura had seemingly scarred Jimmy for life. But somehow Katy, who combined her mother's tenacity with her father's gentleness and sensitivity, had managed to break down the barriers Jimmy had surrounded himself with, and had encouraged the world-famous photographer to love again. Jimmy was besotted with Katy; he also had a great respect for her, and Jon was confident that the marriage was secure. His only regret was that Katy would probably be left alone by the time she was middle-aged. But that couldn't be helped; and anyway, both Jon and Katy had been aware for some years that they were both likely to outlive their future partners in any case - Clark had explained to them both that their inherited Kryptonian physiology meant that once they had reached adulthood they would probably age more slowly than human adults. That hadn't been completely true of Clark Kent himself, of course; not long after Lois and Clark had been married, and a few years before Jon had been born, Clark, as Superman, had given up some of his life force to allow Jimmy and a criminal, Conor Shenck, to be rejuvenated by a deranged scientist called Veda Doodsen. As a result, although Clark still didn't really look like a man in his sixties, he had more or less kept pace with Lois in the ageing process. The intriguing thing about Jimmy, though, Jon reflected, was that despite being in his mid-fifties he looked almost a decade younger as well now. Jon had his own theories about that; either Jimmy had been affected in some way by Katy's Kryptonian aura, or else the fact that he'd received some of Clark's Kryptonian life-force had slowed down the ageing process in his case. Or perhaps both; whatever the reason, Jon felt that perhaps Katy wouldn't be widowed as young as some people had predicted she could be. He was pleased about that. Thinking of Jimmy then, Jon's thoughts shot off on a tangent as he remembered the day that Jimmy Olsen had discovered that his best buddy CK and Superman were one and the same. A couple of years after Katy had graduated from college, she and Jimmy had eventually agreed, after much debate and argument, that she should accompany him on a long visit to the Sudan, a follow-up to some of Jimmy's earlier award-winning reporting of the war and subsequent devastation in that country. Katy had informed her parents of their intention, and the family had agreed that Jimmy needed to be told the truth. So he had been invited around and, as Katy had told Jon later that same evening, had been expecting a fatherly lecture from Clark - or even worse, the protective mother lecture from Lois - about ensuring Katy's safety. Jimmy had tried to anticipate the lecture by taking the initiative, speaking to reassure Katy's parents that he wouldn't let her get into anything too dangerous, that they would have local escorts and bodyguards. Clark had interrupted him, remarking wryly that he and Lois weren't actually worried about Katy's physical safety. "That won't be a problem, Jimmy," Clark had stated. Jimmy had been puzzled, and had glanced at Katy for enlightenment, only to see a mischievous smile curved about her mouth. Clark had got to his feet and walked to within a few feet of where Jimmy sat; his old friend had also stood, wondering what was going on. "Jimmy, I have something to tell you - we need to let you in on a secret. You'll probably think it's something we should have told you years ago, and I want you to know that it's not that we didn't trust you. This is a secret I've kept all my life, except for Lois, and more recently, Bernard Klein of Star Labs and Lois's sister." "Sounds pretty mysterious, CK," Jimmy had replied, glancing from Clark to Lois to Katy in confusion. Jon, whohad been sitting quietly in the corner watching events unfold, had caught Jimmy's eye then and shot him a swift, reassuring smile. "Well, sort of..." Clark had offered, before pausing. "Look, it's probably a lot easier if I show you." He had been wearing a black shirt, buttoned up to the collar; swiftly, he had undone the buttons and pulled the fabric aside to reveal the famous suit and 'S' emblem. Jimmy had stared in confusion. "CK... why are you wearing Superman's suit under your clothes?" Katy's shout of laughter had given it away; Jimmy had again stared at each of the faces in the room, all friends he had known for years. Then he had looked back at Clark, and said hesitantly, "*You're* Superman?" Clark had nodded, then, seemingly feeling that some proof was necessary, had levitated several inches off the floor. Jimmy had staggered backwards, collapsing back into the chair, before speaking in a shaky voice, "All these years... and I never guessed! And yet the number of times I... you...." He had become incoherent for a few moments. Then he had stared his old friend straight in the eye and stated, "It was you who flew me home from Africa." Clark had nodded. "We always understood why you went there in the first place - but it was time for you to come home. You understood that. And we didn't want you changing your mind before you'd booked a flight. And I thought you might be nervous about arriving back in Metropolis alone - so I went to get you." Still allowing his momentous discovery to sink in, Jimmy had stared disbelievingly around at the other members of the Lane-Kent family again; then a new thought had occurred to him. "Katy, Jon... they're invulnerable too! *That's* why you said Katy wouldn't be in any danger...." Katy had laughed again, and had pointedly levitated herself until she was lying face-down, chin propped on her hands, in mid-air. Jimmy, shaking his head, had suddenly looked enlightened. "Katy - is SuperWoman?" Clark had grinned proudly and nodded. "And Jon... yeah. Now I understand." Still marvelling at the news, Jimmy had added slowly, "God knows how many photos I've taken of you guys. And yet I *never* noticed the resemblance." "You weren't intended to," Clark had replied dryly. "But you needed to know now, so we decided to tell you. Katy shouldn't come to any harm in Africa with you - in fact, she'll be more likely to protect *you* than the other way around. But we figured that since you're going to be travelling with her for the next year, you had to know the truth." Jimmy, still assimilating the information, had given his solemn word never to reveal the information to anyone. And he had kept it; much as the Kent family's other old friend, Perry White, had carried Clark's secret to his grave. Jon now focused his attention on the present, or rather, something more pressing for the near future. During his visit to his parents' house, Katy had taken Jon upstairs to the children's bedroom; while there she had spoken swiftly to him in the 'code' they had invented as children when they had wanted to circumvent their father's super-hearing. She had reminded him that their father's sixty-fifth birthday was coming up in a few weeks, and to coincide with that occasion he was also retiring from the Planet. There would of course be a family party to celebrate Clark's birthday, but Jimmy was secretly organising a Planet party for the retirement. Even Lois wasn't aware of these plans, and Jon had been instructed to keep the secret. Jimmy, with the help of Katy and Jon, intended to invite as many past employees of the Planet and other colleagues and friends of Clark's as possible. The party wasn't going to be held in the Planet building itself; they would never be able to organise that without making Lois suspicious, and Clark knew Lois so well that, no matter how she tried, it was practically impossible for her to keep a secret from her husband of thirty-four years. For an instant, Jon wondered: what would the Daily Planet be like without Clark Kent? His father had been employed at the Planet for thirty-seven years, as a reporter, then senior reporter, then head of the city news section under Lois's new regime of individual departmental editors. He had also increasingly written bylined op-ed pieces over the past ten years; Clark Kent was in great demand these days on TV and the Internet for his strongly-argued analyses of politics, urban life and social attitudes. He was passionate about poverty and deprivation, and had a few years earlier been asked to serve on a committee established by the President to look into the causes of poverty and to examine proposed measures for the alleviation of hardship. This had occupied much of Clark's time over a six-month period, and in order to allow his parents to spend time together when Clark was either in Washington or carrying out his Planet duties, Jon had covered full-time as Son-of-Superman. These days, Jon and Clark had an understanding that they would cover alternate nights and weekends, thus giving both of them some assurance of time off; Clark also tried to cover as far as possible for Jon's teaching timetable. Of course, there were still occasions when both were needed to assist with some particularly serious emergency; at those times, either both would turn up because each had seen how bad the situation was, or one would signal the other through the supersonic watches both wore. In extremis, Katy would also come to help, although for various reasons SuperWoman was more or less in retirement; Katy did use her powers when she could, to help people in need, but she had never been comfortable with her super-hero persona, and Clark in particular had never wanted to make either of his children adopt a role which was uncomfortable for them, or which they didn't want. This evening had actually been Clark's night on duty, and so Jon could have ignored the emergency broadcast he had heard; however, knowing that his sister and brother-in-law had only just arrived back in Metropolis after one of their overseas trips, and were visiting his parents, he had decided to relieve his father. So, what would Clark Kent do in retirement? Katy hadn't quite been able to envisage her father, still extremely fit and active and with his brain as sharp as ever, settling into retirement. Jon wasn't concerned, however; he knew exactly what their father would do. Some years earlier, Clark had completed and edited Perry White's memoirs after the Planet's former editor had died. That task had given him a desire to try serious writing for himself; and his subsequent book on the ethical choices for journalists between searching for the truth and safeguarding individuals' rights to privacy had by now become required reading for all aspiring reporters. Jon was aware that his father had ideas for further books; his knowledge and understanding of organised crime in Metropolis over the past thirty or more years certainly presented Clark with one book ready to be written, although when it came to Intergang and Lex Luthor Jon felt sure Lois would also want to be involved. Clark would also, Jon was confident, write further on the subject of underprivilege; unconstrained by the requirements of deadlines and limited column inches, or the need to avoid offending certain politicians (which had been a major source of frustration during his time in Washington), Clark could write a hard-hitting polemic which, Jon believed, would disturb a lot of people from their complacency. No, Clark would find plenty to do in retirement from the Planet; it was Lois, Jon thought, who might find the greater time on her hands to be frustrating. His mother would be retiring later that year; she had toyed with the idea of quitting at the same time as Clark, since there was only about eight months' difference in their ages, but Clark had convinced her not to leave before she had to. He had certainly been aware that she would prefer not to! Jon wondered whether Lois had the patience to channel her writing skills into books; possibly not. However, there was certainly no reason why she shouldn't write freelance for the Planet or one or two of the heavyweight political weeklies - or perhaps she could go into politics herself. She had been approached several times over the years to stand as Mayor; while running the city had never appealed to Lois, the thought of standing for Congress or even the Senate had crossed her mind occasionally. Not the State legislature; Lois was never one to aim low. And if she did go to Washington, Clark would follow her; he could write anywhere, and Jon would still be in Metropolis as its guardian. Perhaps it would then be time for Clark to give up being Superman, except in emergencies; there wouldn't really be any way of explaining Superman's move to Washington, and Jon could then drop the Son-of, and simply take over as Superman. It might work... except there is no way on earth Dad can see someone in trouble and just ignore it, Jon thought with a wry smile. So we might have to do some thinking, if Mom does stand for election and if she wins.... What am I talking about - Lois Lane? Of course she'll win - she wouldn't consider standing if she didn't think she had all the angles covered. Jon himself had never really had any doubt that, as soon as he was old enough, he would don a Super-suit and join his father in saving lives and fighting for truth and justice. As he had been growing up, Clark, and also occasionally Lois, had instigated a number of conversations about the privileges and responsibilities of having Super-powers, but it had always been stressed that neither Jon nor Katy should feel obliged to follow in their father's footsteps. Clark had pointed out how difficult the life could be, how the interruptions played havoc with work and family life - not that he had needed to tell them, Katy had pointed out with a grin: it had been all too obvious to the Kent children how much Superman interfered with their daily activities. But Jon had known from a young age that he wanted to 'follow in the family business,' as Lois had once described it. Katy had been slightly more ambivalent, though her reluctance had been more to do with being uncomfortable about wearing a disguise and being sought after by the media. Her semi-nomadic life with Jimmy made it easy for her to 'help' unobtrusively without need for a flashy costume, and she much preferred that. But all this reverie wasn't getting his chapter written, Jon told himself silently as he directed his thoughts to the principal argument of his chapter on the role played by the Civil War in entrenching the racial divide in the Dixie states. Jon was a social historian; although his training was in history, much of his work was inter-disciplinary, drawing on sociology and anthropology in his work chronicling and analysing the history of racism. He frowned for a few moments, then began to type at super-speed. **************** "Good morning, Professor Kent!" Jon glanced around; although the campus was fairly crowded at 9.30 am, he hadn't especially been concentrating on his surroundings as he made his way to his office. He recognised the student who had addressed him, however - the young man was in one of Jon's classes - and he called a greeting in return. Jon enjoyed his job at Metropolis University; he considered himself very lucky to have been appointed to a tenured position the previous year. While he had been writing up his PhD, one of the professors in his department had quit unexpectedly, and Jon had been offered some teaching hours. The experience of working as a lecturer had stood him in good stead: he had expected to have to move to another university in order to obtain a tenure-track position, but his department had decided to replace the professor with an assistant professorship; Jon had applied and had been appointed. He had applied himself diligently to the requirements of the job - which hadn't been hard, as he enjoyed research and had a talent for academic writing, and he was a popular teacher - and after four years in post had built up an impressive publications list as well as excellent reports from several cohorts of students. He was now an associate professor, and was being strongly encouraged by his head of department to apply for some research grants; if he built up a track record on research funds as well as continuing to publish, he could be ready for promotion to full professor within about ten years. His family had been encouraging about his career plans, and were very proud of his success. Clark, Jon thought, had the kind of mind which would have been very well suited to university life, had he not been more interested in journalism; it occurred to Jon now that another possible option in retirement for his father would be to take up a part-time professorship in a journalism school. Clark would make a good teacher: he had the patience which Lois often lacked. Strolling down the corridor to his office, Jon reflected on the ways in which his parents' traits had been passed down to his sister and himself. It was conventional wisdom in the Lane-Kent household that Jon took after Clark and Katy after Lois, but in fact Jon had inherited some degree of his mother's cunning. Her intelligence was in some ways of a different type to Clark's: no-one could accuse the Man of Steel of being stupid, but there had been times when he was over-cautious and failed to see what, to Lois, was the obvious solution to a problem. Lois in some ways was the strategist of the partnership, and it was in this respect that Jon seemed to resemble his mother. This difference had occasionally manifested itself when the two Supermen were dealing with a difficult situation: Jon was often quicker than his father in coming up with a solution. He dropped the books he was carrying onto his desk and booted up his computer; time to deal with his email correspondence and download any new student assignments which had been sent overnight. Then at eleven he had to give a two-hour lecture to some Masters' students, followed by faculty meetings that afternoon; the one part of his job he could really do without, he reflected wryly as he noticed yet more documentation in his electronic inbox, was the seemingly endless meetings. **************** As Jon Kent sat in his office commencing his day's work, another solitary figure made her hurried way across the university campus, taking even less interest in her surroundings than he had done. Sarah Fuller, a tall, slim woman dressed in a very unflattering sweater and skirt, was very definitely wishing that she was somewhere else. It had been a mistake taking up the Fulbright exchange, she thought miserably. Running away never solves anything... and if you're going to be unhappy, she reminded herself, it's probably better to be unhappy in familiar surroundings, with friends around for moral support. It wasn't as if she had anything against Metropolis as such, she conceded wryly. The city seemed okay, and the university was aesthetically pleasing and the facilities good - certainly a lot better than the inner-city university where she worked in England. As for Metropolitans, she wasn't entirely sure what she thought of them yet; in common with the inhabitants of most large cities, they seemed to prefer to keep themselves to themselves. So she had been in Metropolis for almost a month of her six-month exchange, and had barely spoken to anyone apart from her faculty colleagues, and some students in passing. Perhaps that was her own fault: a couple of her colleagues had made overtures of welcome, had invited her to their homes for dinner, but - not feeling particularly sociable - she had declined the invitations. After a couple of rejections, they had stopped asking. When was the last time I spoke to someone, she wondered to herself as she entered the building which housed the Sociology department. She had given a lecture the previous evening - she still preferred to call it that, rather than the more usual American description of having taken a class - but so she had spoken *at* people then, rather than holding a conversation with anyone. She had bought a carton of milk on her way home; but the cashier had been engaged in discussion with another customer about some TV show which Sarah didn't watch, and she had simply handed over the exact change and left. "Oh, Professor Fuller!" a voice called suddenly, startling Sarah from her abstraction. Even hearing her own name spoken was becoming a novelty, although it still felt strange to be called 'Professor' rather than the 'Dr' which would be normal at home. She glanced around; the faculty administrator was gesticulating at her. Sighing inaudibly, Sarah retraced her steps and entered the faculty office. "A student who missed your class last night wants the notes on the assignment you set," Crystal Ogbonna began, "and Professor Bush would like to see that draft paper you said you were writing on contrasting..." she checked her notes, "the work of older feminists such as Greer with the new generation, such as Roiphe." Sarah recognised the brief outline she had given at a faculty meeting a couple of weeks ago when she had been asked about her current research. She knew she was expected to produce two or three research papers while she was at MetU, and she would also have to give at least one seminar presentation to faculty colleagues. Oh well, the Greer paper was almost finished. She threw the administrator a brief smile - it wasn't the older woman's fault - and spoke quickly. "I'll let Professor Bush have a copy when it's ready - that should be by next week. As for the student, if you can tell whoever it is to email me then I'll deal with it." Ducking her head, she slipped silently out of the office and swiftly continued on down the corridor to her own tiny office. She hadn't wanted to speak to the administrator; Crystal was a kind, almost motherly woman who, Sarah knew, was curious about her. On several occasions the older woman had tried to engage Sarah in conversation about gossip, the news, personal matters, and each time Sarah had given no encouragement. The less people here knew about her, the better, she felt. Thank goodness for technology, Sarah reflected as she tucked her unconfined and untidy hair behind her ears and booted her computer, watching it go through the motions of connecting to the university network. Electronic means of communication were a great way of escaping personal interaction. Sarah had even disabled the voice-enabled software on her computer, preferring to send and receive text emails rather than voicemails. The university system also subscribed to video-phoning via the computer, but Sarah refused to use that either. People didn't need to see her, or hear her voice, to understand her work or get what they needed from her. The only personal interaction she could cope with was giving lectures and leading seminars; there she was putting on an act, and she could do that. ******************** "Jon?" "Mom?" Jon had just answered the phone in his office, hoping that the call was one he would be able to dispose of quickly; he had a lot of marking to do. Although he was able to do a lot of it at Super-speed, he had to be careful that no-one saw him, therefore he tended to keep most of the speed-work for when he was in his own apartment. He gave his full attention to the telephone. His mother sounded concerned, and that wasn't like her. "Mom? Is something up? Is it Dad?" "Yes," Lois answered quickly, grateful for her son's quick understanding. "He went out earlier, and he hasn't come back yet - oh, I know there are dozens of places he could be, but I've checked the news feed and Superman's not up to anything, and there's nothing in his electronic diary." Jon frowned. "So where do you think he is, Mom?" Lois sighed, brushing her hair back from her face as she thought of her husband, felt his pain. "It's your Grandma's birthday today, sweetie. I think...." "You think he's in Smallville," Jon concluded. "And I don't want him there alone," Lois replied. "You know your father, Jon, and of course I'd want to give him privacy to grieve if he needs it. I just think... he might need company." "And I can see if he does, and butt out if he doesn't," Jon agreed. "Mom, if you'd prefer to be with him, I could take you there...?" Lois was tempted, but she knew that Clark would prefer not to let her see him if he was upset. In some ways, he was still quite proud; but she was confident that he would talk to his son. "No, you go. If you have time, that is." "Mom - when do I ever *not* have time for you and Dad? But it's okay, I've just finished a lecture and I don't have any more for the next couple of hours." Soon afterwards, Jon hovered in the air above Smallville cemetery, scanning the ground for the familiar figure of his father. As he caught sight of a grey-suited man bent low near one grave, he again wondered at how well his parents knew each other; idly, he wondered whether he would ever have that kind of relationship with a woman. He had had girlfriends, but no-one special, and no-one he had even come close to confessing his true heritage to. Checking to ensure that no-one else was around, he drifted gently to the ground. His father's head jerked up and Jon threw him a wry smile. Clark straightened and regarded his son thoughtfully. "Let me guess. Your mom was worried about me?" "She does, Dad. Constantly." "Yeah, I know. Still. After all these years - I mean, doesn't she realise I'm Superman?" The wry smile on his father's face took the sting out of the words; Jon was well aware that his father understood and appreciated his mother's concern. Jon came to stand by Martha's grave, glancing down at the neatly-trimmed plot and the fresh flowers. "There's more than one way of not being all right." Clark smiled. "Yeah, I know. And I'm fine - I just needed to come down here for a while." He paused, then raised an eyebrow at Jon. "Did Lois guess I was here, or was that you?" "Need you ask?" Jon laughed. "She knew what day it is." He allowed his fingers to trace the names on the gravestone: first Jonathan Kent, then Martha Clark Kent. "I miss her too, Dad. We all do. She was such a wonderful lady... a real inspiration." "She was that all right," Clark agreed. "Both of them... can you imagine what it must take to take in a baby they just found in a field and bring him up as their own son? Most people would just hand the child over to the authorities - and in the circumstances I was found, who knows what would have happened to me? And then when I started to develop powers.... They didn't have a clue what was going on, but they were infinitely patient and understanding. They were the wisest people I've ever known, apart from your mother." "Do you want me to leave you here?" Jon asked, but Clark shook his head. "It's okay - it's time I went back anyway. Fly with me?" As Jon nodded agreement, Clark glanced around cautiously before executing his practised spin-change. Split seconds later, the two Super-powered beings were no more than a dot on the horizon. **************** Lois jumped as warm lips teased the nape of her neck. "So you were worried about me, love, were you?" her husband's velvety tones rumbled in her ear. She tilted her head backwards to smile at him. "You know me, Clark. And I know you... I just didn't want to think of you on your own." "I know." He bent and caressed her lips with his own; after all these years, more than thirty, that they had been married, he was still deeply in love with his wife, still desired her as much as he had on the day they had been married. "And I was glad to see Jon. It's good to be able to talk about Mom and Dad with the kids sometimes, you know." "Yeah," Lois agreed. "They miss them too - Martha and Jonathan were pretty special people." "They were that," Clark agreed slowly. "I guess I'm just lucky to have had them so long." He paused then, and crossed to sit opposite Lois. "But how about you - I mean, do you miss your parents?" Lois stared into the middle distance for a moment before replying. "Yes - yes, of course I do. Well, you know how things were years ago, but we talked all that out and then they got back together, and our kids were a great help in healing the relationship... yeah, I miss them." She sighed. "But like Martha and Jonathan, they had long lives." "Do you ever regret not telling them - about me, I mean?" Clark asked suddenly. Lois regarded him thoughtfully. It had always been understood, taken as read, that her parents couldn't know the truth, that their son-in-law was really Superman. "Sometimes, yes. There were times when it was difficult - I mean, like explaining to the kids years ago that while they could talk to Grandma and Grandpa Kent about their daddy being Superman, they were never to mention it to Grandma and Grandpa Lane." Clark inhaled sharply. "I wish you'd told me you felt like that, honey." She gave him a rueful smile. "What good would it have done? I still believe it was the right decision. I have no idea how Daddy would have reacted - you know his strange medical interests. I'm not at all convinced he wouldn't have wanted to try some horrible genetic experiment on you or one of the kids. And Mom... I loved her, Clark, and I really came to understand her after we had Katy and Jon, but I don't think we could have trusted her not to let it slip." "Mmmm," Clark murmured thoughtfully. "But we trusted Lucy." "Lucy?" Lois fell silent for a moment or two as she thought of her sister, now for many years happily married and living in California. "Well, that was different - you didn't have much choice at the time." "True," Clark mused, remembering the occasion many years ago, when he and Lois had been in their first year of marriage and Lucy had come to visit. He had forgotten to use pot-holders on a dish which - as Lucy had discovered immediately afterwards - had been far too hot for human hands. "And she kept her word - she hasn't even told Michael. But I'm glad she knows. It gives the kids someone apart from the two of us to talk to if they need to." Lois followed Clark's train of thought with ease. Okay, the kids were adult now, and leading their own lives: Katy married with children of her own, and Jon living in his own apartment and with a successful career. But being the children of Superman, having their own Super-powers, was not easy. There had been a number of times when they were growing up when both Kent children had turned to their Kent grandparents for advice, feeling embarrassed at the thought of talking to their parents or - as on one occasion when Katy had accidentally Super-heard some of her schoolfriends saying some unpleasant things about her - when they hadn't wanted their father to believe they resented him because of what they had inherited from him. On that occasion, Martha's calm and sympathetic understanding over the telephone had reassured Katy enough for her to tell her mother what had happened, and to return to school the following day with her head held high. Lois went to sit beside Clark, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's hard, isn't it? We've kept this secret for so long, and the kids have too, and it must have been hard for them to have relationships knowing how careful they need to be." Clark sighed. "You think that's why Jon's still single?" Lois gave her husband a wry smile. "Maybe - I don't know. It's more likely that, like his father, he just hasn't met the right woman yet. I just hope that when he does he won't prevaricate so much about telling her who he is." Recognising Lois's remark as a good-natured dig at himself, Clark retaliated by tickling his wife with his Super-breath. *************** Later that afternoon, Clark was busy putting the finishing touches to a long op-ed piece which Lois wanted for the weekend edition when his Super-hearing kicked in. Glancing quickly around to ensure that his exit was clear, he hurried out of the newsroom and up to the roof, where he flew in the direction from where he had heard the cries. Someone was being attacked, judging by what he'd heard. He approached the alley his Super-hearing had identified as the source of the shouts, and immediately saw the victim. There was no sign of an attacker. He landed and hurried to the crumpled figure lying in a heap on the ground. The man seemed to be in his mid-seventies or thereabouts, from what Clark was able to see, and was bleeding profusely from a knife-wound to the chest. He crouched down in order to assess the victim's injuries more closely, and suddenly stilled as he realised that he recognised the man. William Henderson. Formerly Chief Inspector Henderson of the Metropolis Police Department, Homicide Division. A very old sparring-partner, and friend, of his and Lois's. They had had many disagreements and run-ins with Henderson over the years, but underneath it all they had always had a great respect for each other, and out of that respect had grown a deep and lasting friendship which had continued after Henderson's retirement a little over ten years earlier. "Bill?" Clark choked out in a shocked, pained voice, as he raised his friend's upper body into his arms. Henderson wasn't dead, but he was close to it; Clark X-rayed the chest-wound and confirmed what he had already guessed. The knife had penetrated the heart, and Henderson had already lost so much blood, never mind the damage to his vital organs, that his life was literally draining away in front of Clark. He briefly contemplated flying Henderson at Super-speed to the nearest hospital, but discounted it. The motion of flight would only hasten death; and anyway, from what Clark was able to see, there was nothing even the best surgeon could do. He sighed despairingly. Over the last ten years or so, it seemed that so many of the people closest to him and Lois were dying. First Jonathan Kent, his beloved father. Then Perry White, their former boss, mentor and great friend, a man who had known Clark's secret for almost thirty years before he had died, and yet he had kept it to himself for most of that time, a circumstance which still saddened both himself and Lois. Lois's parents, Sam and Ellen Lane, within two months of each other: despite their turbulent marriage, it had seemed as if Sam Lane was simply incapable of continuing after Ellen had died following a stroke. Then his dearest mother, Martha Kent, only a couple of years earlier, a loss from which Clark still had not recovered. Now, this man.... Henderson's eyes flickered open. "Superman..." he rasped with difficulty. Clark's arms tightened around his old friend. "Don't try to talk - you've been stabbed." The retired detective stared up at Superman through blue eyes which were still as sharp, penetrating, as they had been almost forty years earlier. "How... bad...?" Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly, very gently. "It's gone right into your heart - there's nothing anyone can do." "I... guess... never thought I'd... even see retirement," Henderson gasped, clearly in considerable pain. Clark could hear sirens in the distance: police, and an ambulance, he realised. Not that the paramedics would be of much use now.... "Take it easy, pal," he murmured, turning his attention back to the man lying in his arms. "Superman... why...? You should be... nothing you can do... here." Clark needed his Super-hearing to catch the words which were so quietly whispered. He understood: Henderson was wondering why Superman was staying with him. Superman and Henderson had had many dealings over the years, but those had mostly been quite formal encounters, Clark's manner distant in an attempt to prevent the very astute detective noticing any similarities with Clark Kent. He stared bleakly at Henderson. If his guess was right - and he was pretty sure of it - the man would be dead within minutes. The sirens were still a minute or two away. In that moment, Clark made his decision. "Bill, it's Clark. Clark Kent," he murmured in a low voice. "Wha...?" The eyes were beginning to glaze over; the voice was slurred, indistinct. "I'm Clark. I... want you to know," Clark repeated. The eyes focused on him again. "Clarrr... yeah, Claa...." A pause, then, "Should ha'... guessed... always too close to Loisss...." Henderson's hand clutched weakly at Clark's. Clark covered it with his own, and waited. It wasn't long; just as the first police vehicle screeched to a halt by the entrance to the alley, Henderson drew a shuddering sigh and his head slipped to one side. Clark inhaled deeply and reached out with one shaking hand to close his friend's eyes. The two young police officers running into the alley were amazed at the sight of Superman, crouched on the ground with his cape pooled about him, holding the dead and bloody body of an old man in his arms, and the glimmer of tears showing in his eyes. *************** Dark shadows were falling across the paths as Sarah reversed her journey across campus on her way back to her apartment in the late afternoon. Another busy day in which, apart from the classes she had taken, she had almost entirely managed to avoid face-to-face contact with other humans. Still, she mused, her research papers were going well. She had completed the article on Roiphe and sent a copy off to a journal, and had started to make some notes for a research grant application. At the rate her CV was improving, she ought to be able to put in for promotion before too long.... She screamed suddenly as a figure leapt out of the bushes and grabbed her. Flailing wildly, she tried to lash out with arms and legs as an arm tightened roughly around her waist, trying to drag her away from the path. Her assailant, whoever he was, was bigger and stronger than she, and within minutes he had managed to overbalance her, knocking her onto her back and dropping to his knees in front of her and then falling on top of her, tearing at her clothes. Reality battled with memories as she desperately fought for her freedom, the coarse mutterings of her assailant competing with the obscene words in her head. ***************** In his office on the other side of campus, Jon was conducting a tutorial with three of his postgraduate students when his Super-hearing kicked in, alerting him to a woman's screams of terror. He groaned silently: how was he going to be able to get away and go to the aid of whoever it was? The screams came again, and he glanced anxiously at his students, then out of the window. He couldn't see anything, but then he was wearing his glasses and he knew, anyway, that the screams were coming from some way away. Abruptly he made a decision. Quickly assigning the students some preparation, he excused himself, telling them that if he wasn't back by the time class should have ended, they should leave and hand in their essays by the end of the week. he thought as he darted through a window at the end of the deserted corridor. In less than a second he was airborne and scanning for the source of the screams. **************** Sarah was desperately trying to fight off her attacker, but his sheer bulk made it very difficult. He had now clapped one large hand over her mouth, making it impossible for her to scream, and his other hand was tearing at her skirt. His elbow dug painfully into her chest, aiding him in keeping her prisoner. Suddenly his unwelcome weight was lifted from her; as her dazed eyes watched, he was slung to one side like an unwanted piece of flotsam. There was a moment when all Sarah could see was a blur, then the blur coalesced into her attacker, lying on the ground trussed up like a chicken. There was a flash of blue to her side, and she turned her head in surprise. A tall, dark-haired man stood there, wearing a bright blue, skin-tight suit in what looked like Lycra or Spandex. He wore his briefs *outside* his tights - and they were yellow - and he had red boots which reached to mid-calf. As if all this wasn't enough, attached to the back of his blue suit was a bright red *cape*! She blinked a couple of times, trying to assimilate what was happening, that she was free and the rape had not happened. For once she had escaped the violence she had expected. Then she realised that the man was speaking to her. "Are you all right, ma'am?" She registered the fact that his voice was deep and very smooth; like velvet, she thought abstractedly before she dashed the thought from her mind. Meeting his gaze, she replied, "Yes, I'm fine, thank you." Jon thought in surprise, as he also noted the fact that her long hair, which looked as if it could do with the attentions of a stylist, was the colour of pale wheat. Her dishevelled clothes were very strange, he thought: very unfashionable and not at all suitable for a young woman in her late twenties, as this woman clearly was. Recalling himself to the situation at hand, he spoke again. "I need to hand this man over to the police, but I'll be back to see that you're all right." "That's very kind of you, but it's not necessary," Sarah replied firmly, trying to get to her feet: she felt at a distinct disadvantage lying crumpled on the ground while he towered over her. But the next instant a large hand was extended to her. "Allow me, please," he murmured. She accepted his hand - it would be a lot less undignified than trying to scramble to her feet unaided - and allowed him to pull her up. He was *incredibly* strong; with no effort on her part whatsoever, she was on her feet. "I'll be back in less than a minute," he promised her. She frowned at him, then gasped as he seized her attacker and the two of them *flew* upwards and out of sight. She glanced around; she was feeling unsteady and much as she wanted to be gone from there by the time her rescuer came back, she realised that she wasn't capable of walking anywhere. she thought. Sarah had heard of Superman - well, who hadn't, and when she had been awarded the scholarship to Metropolis some of her colleagues at Midchester University had attempted to tease her about the possibility of running into the Super-hero. She had discounted the idea herself, and although she had seen occasional newspaper coverage of the Man of Steel's activities since arriving in the States, she had still never expected to see him in the flesh. Strange, though... he seemed much younger than she had expected. After all, Superman had first appeared in Metropolis in the early 1990s. That was about thirty-five years ago. Didn't Kryptonians age? A rustling noise from nearby distracted her from her musing, and her head shot up; the Super-hero was striding towards her again out of the darkness. His expression was concerned, and as he approached he again asked her if she was all right. She nodded. "Thank you for your concern. I just wanted to sit for a minute." "Please let me see you safely home," he offered. That was thoughtful of him, Sarah considered, and she smiled shyly at him. "That's kind of you, Superman, but I'll be fine." He blinked, which surprised her. "I... uh, I got the impression earlier you didn't know who I was." "Oh." She hesitated. "Well, it's just that I never expected to encounter Metropolis's legendary hero." Her rescuer smiled, a little self-consciously it seemed to Sarah. "Oh, that's not me," he replied bafflingly, then explained. "Superman - the original Superman, that is - is my father. I joined the 'family business,' as you might put it, about twelve or so years ago." There were *two* of them? "What do they call you then?" Sarah asked, bemused. A little awkwardly, he answered, "When I first started, the press called me Son-of-Superman, but now they just call me Superman too. In fact, some of the time I'm not sure the media knows or cares whether it's me or my father they see." "You look like him, then?" Superman grinned; it lit up his face and made him appear much younger, she thought. "Yes, I look exactly like he did at my age, or so my mom always tells me." She thought he seemed to stop abruptly at that, as if realising that he had said too much. His expression grew businesslike again. "Anyway, ma'am, may I see you safely home?" Sarah hesitated, again wanting to tell him that she was fine and wanted to be left alone. But something about him suggested to her that he wouldn't accept that response; and anyway, the prospect of perhaps being *flown* back to her apartment by Superman was very tempting. The temptation won through. "That would be very kind of you, if you're sure you have the time." "I have the time," he assured her, and took a couple of steps to bring himself closer to her. She tensed, an automatic reaction. He saw it and hesitated, a flash of doubt crossing his face. "Ma'am - are you sure you're all right? Maybe I should take you to see a doctor?" "No - oh, no, there's no need for that," she protested. "Then let me carry you," he replied, keeping his tone deliberately matter-of-fact. "I won't hurt you or drop you, I promise." She forced herself to remain still as he came closer and in one swift movement, scooped her up into his arms. The sensation of being held against his chest was at once comforting and terrifying. She clenched her fists at her side, but as soon as she felt him lifting off the ground she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck instead. Once they were airborne, Superman asked her, "You're obviously English - what are you doing in Metropolis?" Sarah thought, then wondered tangentially whether Superman - or his son - counted as an American. He hadn't mentioned anything about who his mother was; it was possible that she was American, of course. Or... wait a minute, was she Kryptonian too? Had there been something in one of the newspaper articles about Superman being married to another Super-hero? She couldn't remember. Sarah sighed; she couldn't be impolite to this man - this Kryptonian or half-Kryptonian or whatever - who had saved her from a violent attack. "I'm a university lecturer - a professor, you'd call it here. I'm visiting Metropolis University on a Fulbright exchange for a semester." She had been glancing up at him as she spoke, and to her surprise he seemed to react a little to her explanation. Had that been a flash of interest in his face? But why would Superman be interested? He didn't comment, however, instead asking her where she lived. She told him, and within seconds he was setting her down outside the door of her apartment. She stole another glance at his face; his expression was now courteous but impersonal. He was clearly anxious to get away. "Superman - thank you for your help. I really do appreciate it. "You're very welcome, ma'am. Any time you need me, just call and I'll come," he assured her before taking off again and swiftly disappearing from sight. Sarah walked slowly up the stairs to her studio apartment, for the first evening since her arrival in Metropolis not thinking about what she had left behind in England. **************** Jon let himself back into his office; as he'd suspected, his students were long gone. He felt momentarily guilty about that: he could have been back sooner. He hadn't needed to fly the woman home; once he'd assured himself that she was all right, he could have flown away. But something had compelled him.... He turned his attention to his computer, quickly bringing up the database of university staff. There were only five Fulbright scholars at MetU this semester. In less than a second he had discovered her name. **************** Lois entered the house to find her husband sitting in front of the TV, though clearly not watching the game which was in progress. His expression was morose, and she instantly reached the conclusion that he had been called to help at some tragic incident. She went to sit next to him, sliding her arm about his waist and laying her face against his shoulder. "What was it, honey?" she asked him softly. He turned to kiss her, wrapping his own arm tightly around her. How well this woman understood him! Sighing, he met her gaze and explained. "Just a stabbing... but this was different, Lois. It was Bill Henderson." She stared at him. "Bill...? Is he okay?" His silence, together with the pain in his dark eyes, told her all she needed to know. She gripped his hand tightly. "There was nothing... was he already dead when you...?" "He was alive, barely, when I got there," Clark explained, and related the remainder of the incident. She listened in silence, simply holding him and sharing his grief for their old friend. "I've been thinking...." Clark continued softly. "So many old friends, people close to us...." "Clark, I know, but humans only have a limited life-span, and at our age we're going to have to get used to losing people we care about," Lois replied gently. Her invulnerable husband's only weakness was the fact that he cared too much - though she would never want to change that about him. She just wished that he didn't suffer so much pain as a result. "It's not that, Lois," he tried to explain. "I know that, and I can cope. It's the fact that we've lived all our lives having to keep secrets from people we care about. First Perry, and then discovering that he knew all along and we missed so many years when we could have shared things with him. And I know we told Jimmy, and he understands, but I see an expression on his face sometimes when he looks at me, and I can tell that he's wondering why I couldn't have trusted him years ago. And you mentioned your parents earlier...." Lois frowned. "Are you suggesting that we should tell all our friends and any family who don't know?" Clark shrugged. "I don't know. I sometimes wonder whether it mightn't be time to give up the disguise and just go public about who Superman is. I mean, it's getting harder to keep anyway now that there's Jon and Katy too." Lois's voice was sharp as she vehemently dismissed the idea. "Clark, I can't believe you'd suggest that! I know you're invulnerable to Kryptonite now, but I live in fear that some day someone's going to come up with an antidote to Dr Klein's vaccine. And even if people have stopped using me as a means of getting to Superman, what about if Jon starts dating? If everyone knew who he was, he'd never have any privacy and his girlfriend would be a target for every crook and madman in town." "You're right, sweetheart. Bad idea," Clark murmured quietly. Lois studied her husband thoughtfully, realising that he hadn't really been serious about going public as Superman. She guessed that he'd just wanted to hear again the reasons why they still needed to keep the secret. One of the things her soft-hearted, loving husband really hated was not being able to be honest with people he cared about. So Bill Henderson was dead... another good friend gone, she mused. She thought that Clark was shaking off his mood, but then he suddenly turned to her. "Why can't I ever be on time when it matters?" he demanded. "Sweetheart?" "Today. If I'd been a couple of minutes sooner... and there was Mayson. Five seconds sooner and I'd have had her out of that car in time to save her life. And Pete - remember the NIA agent?" "Oh Clark!" Lois exclaimed, hugging him again, saddened but hardly surprised that he still felt guilt over Mayson's death, so many years ago now. "Think of all the times you *were* on time - you saved Perry, Jimmy, you saved me with seconds to spare hundreds of times. And there are tens of thousands of people alive today because you *were* quick enough. You can't blame yourself for a few occasions when you just can't make it, honey!" He smiled wryly. "I know. Lois, we lost a good friend today. I'll miss him." "Me too." ***************** Dr Sarah Fuller, from Midchester University, England. Jon sat at his desk and surfed the Internet, clicking links until he found the home page for Sarah's university department. He wanted to find out everything he could about the woman he had just rescued. So, she was a sociologist; well, although his own subject was history, there were commonalities. For one, his own interest was in social history, in the effects of particular events on people's lives. He had of necessity to consult sociology literature from time to time in the course of his research. Yes, he thought that he could certainly carry on a convincing academic conversation with her; all the better if he could download some of her publications and read them. While his printer was busy churning out copies of some of Sarah's recent journal articles, he studied the photograph of her on her department's web site. It looked as if it had been taken about three or four years ago; she was certainly younger in it. But she also looked different in other ways: she wore make-up, a lively smile, and her long blonde hair was attractively styled. Her clothes, from what he could see, were also bright and fashionable. What had happened to this beautiful young woman which had seemingly made her want to make herself look as dowdy as possible? When she had smiled at him, something had lit up her expression from within. Yet he got the impression that smiling wasn't something she did very much of at the moment. Jon didn't know what it was which drew him to Sarah Fuller. All he was aware of was the fact that, the instant he had seen her properly, something inside him had made him want to fly away with her. He desperately wanted to get to know her better; when he had returned from depositing her attacker at the nearest police station, he had wanted to sit beside her and talk for hours. He had had to force himself to end the conversation, reminding himself that he was there as Superman, not Jon Kent, and that as Superman he couldn't afford to allow anyone a glimpse of his natural personality. But Jon Kent could get to know her... and Jon Kent intended to do just that. ***************** Clark drifted in the sky above the house; he just felt that he needed to be alone for a short time. Of course Lois thought she understood how he felt, but he hadn't yet put into words his true fears... the one thing he really dreaded. As he tried to drive that particular image from his mind, he heard a voice calling him. <> Who.... He stared into the dark night. Jon - no, Jon never called him Clark. Dad usually, Superman sometimes for the sake of appearances. But in any case, Jon never used.... Telepathy! The voice hadn't been 'real', it had been in his mind. Clark had never actually tried to see whether he could communicate telepathically with either Katy or Jon; he had never really been comfortable with it when the New Kryptonians had used it, and he also hadn't wanted his children to fear that he might invade their privacy with any telepathic abilities he might have. So he had suppressed his telepathic skills, and since he hadn't used them for more years than he cared to remember he had almost forgotten that he was once able to... *When* had he last used telepathy? The voice came again. <> Did he remember how to...? <> he answered back. <> Who was this? The last person he had talked to in this way had been... <> he asked incredulously. <> the slightly cocky voice of his younger counterpart came back. Conor... he and Lois had not seen or heard from the younger man for nearly thirty years; not since about the time Katy was conceived. After they had finally managed to put right Tempus's interdimensional meddling which had resulted in Clark's being stranded in Conor's universe with Conor's then fiancee Laura, and Lois being sent to their own world with Conor, Clark and Lois had been told by HG Wells that they would not meet the younger couple again. Conor and Laura were an alternate universe version of Clark and Lois, and were, or at any rate had been at that time, actors. At the time Clark had first heard of them, they had actually been playing Lois and Clark on television, although that had stopped shortly after Conor had discovered that he was in reality the Superman of his world. <> <> Clark frowned. Why would he need Conor? But then he admitted that Conor was perhaps the only other person, with the exception of the Clark from the *other* alternate universe, who would understand how he felt. <> he replied. Struck by a thought, he added, <> He felt Conor's amusement as if it was his own emotional reaction. <> Permission? What did that mean... oh, never mind. <> Two seconds later Clark was joined by another man in a blue and red suit, who 'stood' in the air in front of him, one eyebrow raised in a challenging expression. "Well, Clark? Seems to me like you're obsessing about something - and we both know that obsessing is something we're good at. Want to talk about it?" "Conor - it's so good to see you!" Clark exclaimed, levitating to his feet and stretching out his hand towards the other man. "You're looking great!" This was true; despite the fact that Conor was only in fact four years younger than Clark, he actually gave the appearance of a man barely in his late forties. "Yeah, I know." Conor grinned ruefully, pulling Clark into a warm embrace. "Laura hates it - she keeps threatening to have plastic surgery so that she doesn't look like she's my mother, but I've told her I'll divorce her if she goes anywhere near that scalpel." Clark could tell from Conor's expression that he would do no such thing; it was equally obvious that he was still crazily in love with his wife, and - like Clark - would love her whatever she looked like. Of course, Clark realised; Conor had not lost years of his potential life as Clark had, when he had given up much of his life-source in order to restore Jimmy to his rightful age and give the criminal Shenck back his youth. These days, Clark was extremely glad that he had done that - not that he had ever regretted it, Jimmy was too close a friend, and now much-loved son-in-law, for that - but it meant that he and Lois had not become separated by time in the way that Lois had feared. "So what's bugging you, Clark?" Conor enquired. "Not here," Clark protested, gesturing at the house below. "I think Jon's dropping by soon and I don't really want him hearing this." He began to fly upwards and west, towards the edge of the city; Conor followed. "How is Jon? Is he... a Superman as well?" the younger man asked, clearly very interested in the answer. "Yeah," Clark replied. "It was something he wanted to do - I never wanted him to feel he had to, I wanted him - and Katy as well - to do what was right for *them*. But Jon wanted to help, and my Mom made him a Suit, so he became Son of Superman a little over ten years ago. These days, though, he just calls himself Superman." Clark smiled a little. "He thinks I don't realise, but he's waiting for me to retire so he can take over from me." "Is he a journalist too?" Conor enquired. "No - an academic. A professor, would you believe?" "You and Lois must be very proud of him," Conor said softly. Clark shot him a swift glance, but the younger man's expression was inscrutable. There was clearly something going on here, but Clark wasn't convinced that Conor had any intention of telling him what it was. **************** On a hilltop above the city, the same hilltop where he and Katy had talked after she'd dropped her bombshell about being in love with Jimmy, Clark landed and invited Conor to sit with him. The younger man complied, raising a single eyebrow at Clark. "So what's going on? Is everything... I mean, is Lois okay?" Quickly Clark reassured him. "She's fine. She's... oh, she's still the same as ever, Conor, sharp, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful.... She's the editor of the Planet now, you know. And she still loves me as much as ever." "And you're still amazed that she does, aren't you?" Conor replied. Seeing Clark's surprised expression, he added, "I'm the same with Laura - come on, I didn't need to tell you that? That's the way we are - because we're different, we're from another planet, it's hard to see sometimes why any Earth woman would want us." Clark nodded; Conor had pin-pointed it exactly. "No, there's nothing wrong with Lois. She may be sixty-four but in many ways she's just the same as she was when she was twenty-six and we first met." He paused, and fell silent for several minutes. Conor sat by his side, not talking, not attempting to read Clark's thoughts either. Clark would speak when he was ready. "I guess it's my... our ages, Conor," Clark began at last. "We start to lose all sorts of people who are important to us. Perry White died nearly six years ago - oh, it was expected, he'd been ill a long time. And after that, it seemed every year or so there was someone else... My dad had died before that, of course, but then there was Lois's parents, the year after Perry went; then two years ago Mom died." He paused, his eyes staring unseeingly at the landscape below. He felt Conor's sympathy and understanding reaching out to him, and sent a silent message of thanks to his friend. "Then earlier today I heard someone in danger, and when I went to help I found an old friend had been attacked...." He told Conor about Henderson, and then paused again. "That's not what's really bothering you, is it, Clark?" Conor asked as if he was already confident of the answer. Clark shook his head. "It's just... wondering who's next...." "Lois." It was a statement, not a question. "You must have thought about this," Clark stated. "You know you're going to outlive Laura - probably by a long way judging by how young you look still. You must have wondered... worried about what it'll be like to be alone." "Yeah, I've thought about it," Conor agreed. "And I've talked to Laura - " "You have?" "Sure! You mean you haven't talked to Lois?" Clark shook his head. "My God, man, no wonder this is eating away at you! How can you still be shutting her out, after - what is it, thirty-three years of marriage?" "Thirty-four." "Whatever. You need to *talk* to her, Kent! You don't have to feel you're protecting her from anything - and anyway, you know very well she'd hate that. It's not going to be hard for her - she knows you'll outlive her. My guess is she'd welcome a chance to tell you how she feels, and what she wants for you." "What did Laura say?" Clark was intrigued, despite himself. Conor shrugged. "She said we'd been lucky to have a long life together - hell, we were lucky to find each other in the first place, given our convoluted beginnings. Remember, I should have landed on Earth thirty years before I did. So we should be grateful for what we'd had, and I should remember her by being happy, and carrying on doing the things I loved, after she'd gone." It was now his turn to stare into the distance. "Clark, I don't want to be without Laura any more than you do without Lois. But you have to stop obsessing about this - and shutting Lois out." "You're right," Clark agreed. "I need to talk to her about this, and I will." He paused again, then changed the subject. "Conor - how have things been for you? I know you and Laura married, but what about kids? And I assume you're still Superman...?" "Yeah, I'm still Superman. And there's also a SuperWoman in my world." At Clark's enquiring glance, he grinned proudly. "Our daughter, Joey. Named for Jor-El, sort of. I'd have loved to call her Lois, after... but anyway, we thought it would attract too much press interest." "So - a daughter...?" "Yeah, Joey's twenty-five," Conor explained. "She finished college five years ago and announced she wanted to go to medical school. So she qualifies this summer. Dr Kane - we can hardly believe it. Mind you, it'll be kind of handy having a doctor in the family - I've told her she'll need to become an expert on Kryptonian physiology!" "And she's a part-time Super-hero too?" "Yeah." "And... is she an only child?" Clark wondered why he felt as if he was prying. With a shock, he realised that Conor had closed his mind against probes. The realisation hurt; surely Conor understood that Clark would not take advantage of their Kryptonian connection to invade his privacy? With the same shuttered expression on his face which he'd worn earlier, Conor shook his head. Abruptly, he got to his feet and said, "Shouldn't you be heading home before Lois wonders where you are?" Feeling rebuffed, Clark turned away from Conor and said coolly, "Lois knows I'll be back soon." <> Clark swung around slowly and studied his 'brother' with a frown. <> <> Conor wasn't volunteering any further information. Clark changed the subject. "How long have you got? Would you like to come and say hi to Lois? I know she'd love to see you. Jon's due to call in soon as well...." "Yeah, I'd like that," Conor replied quietly. "I don't know how long I have here - all this kind of took me by surprise. One minute I was minding my own business, editing a script in my study, and the next something or someone was telling me to contact you." He paused and studied Clark with a wry smile. "All these years... and I did try the telepathic link from time to time, but it never worked. Until now...." "I wonder why?" Clark mused, but gestured to Conor to follow him. *************** Lois glanced at her watch again, wondering where Clark was. She knew he'd been upset at Bill Henderson's death, and she'd suspected he wanted a little time on his own. But he'd been gone quite a while, unless he'd been caught up in another emergency. Anything was possible, of course, with Superman. It was an occupational hazard of her married life to which she was well used. As she mused on whether to order takeout or take a chance that Clark would be home in time to cook dinner, she heard a familiar sound from the back garden. Automatically going towards the back door to greet her husband, she paused. That had been a double whoosh; but surely Jon wasn't with him? She knew her son had a late class at the university that evening. The door opened and Clark entered, changing into his casual clothes as he did so. Behind him came another man in an identical Superman suit, a man who looked exactly like Clark had about fifteen or twenty years ago. This man was too old to be Jon, but... could just about be Clark's son. For an instant, Lois felt a twinge of panic. This couldn't be an old indiscretion coming home to roost, could it? Immediately, she dismissed the thought. Clark would never have done anything like that - *hadn't* done anything like that. But who.... The man spoke to her. "Hello, Lois, it's great to see you again." He even *sounded* like Clark! But... An alternate version - but younger? Clark was watching with enjoyment the expressions flitting across his wife's face. "Lois, sweetheart, surely you remember...?" Her eyes widened as the penny dropped. This wasn't the Alternate Clark from the universe she had visited on her own; Clark had never been on such familiar terms with him. This was Conor Kane, the man Clark had regarded as his little brother, and with whom he had formed a close bond even though they had only spent a few days together. "Conor!" she exclaimed, hurrying to him. He enfolded her in his arms, hugging her tightly. Conor caught Clark's eye over Lois's head. <> <> Dipping his head, Conor kissed Lois's cheek. She smiled up at him in genuine pleasure, and his mouth shifted to caress her upper lip. "For old time's sake," he said as he released her, laughing. "For when we had to stage PDAs to stop gossip at the Planet." "PDAs?" Clark was confused. Why would Conor have been kissing Lois at the Planet? His younger counterpart spun into jeans and a sweatshirt before turning to grin at him. "Public Displays of Affection. Your colleagues were starting to think you and Lois'd had a fight because we weren't behaving the way you two normally did, so I had to use my acting talents.... It was kind of fun." Clark raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated pretence of jealousy. He was actually surprised that neither this revelation, nor the fact that his wife had never told him about it, bothered him in the slightest. But then, although he was aware that he did have a jealous streak, he had never been jealous of Conor. Probably because he had always known how Conor felt about Laura; even if he hadn't seen the love the two shared, he would have realised after he had allowed Conor into his body to 'talk' to Laura while they'd been in each other's universe. "No need to worry, Clark - I never actually kissed her for real. I just used a technique for faking it that actors used to use when I was still in the business. It worked well enough." Lois moved to her husband's side, wrapping her arms around his waist, but still watching Conor. "So how come you're here? I thought HG Wells didn't want us visiting each other's worlds." <> Clark asked quickly. <> <> "I'm really not sure, Lois," Conor answered her. "I was in my study, then a voice seemed to tell me to contact Clark, and once I did I seemed to know that if he said it was okay I could come here." "And Laura's not with you?" Lois asked, a little disappointed. "No - she'll be really fed up that she missed the trip," he replied. "I know she'd love to see you both again." After inviting Conor to stay for dinner, Lois sent Clark to get takeout. While he was gone, she poured Conor some wine and asked him how he and Laura had been over the years. It seemed that Conor Kane was now a highly successful novelist who had seen many of his books adapted for television and film; Laura had even starred in some of them. She had continued to be a successful actress in her own right, and the high point of her career had been a Best Actress Oscar about twenty years earlier. Since then she had received a number of other nominations, though due to the dearth of major roles for older women, the nominations these days tended to be for Best Supporting Actress. "Did you bring any of your books with you? Or Laura's videos?" Lois asked hopefully. Conor shook his head. "Never thought - it all happened so fast." "That's a real shame. Clark and I would love to see them." He smiled at her. "Next time, I promise." Lois laughed. "You know, Conor, I haven't been able to watch 'Ghost' with a straight face since you were here!" Laughing aloud, Conor leaned back on the sofa. "I know what you mean. I ran into Patrick Swayze a couple of months after that, and it was so hard not to crack up. It's weird - I found it so difficult to do that, at the time, but now I feel like it was something out of a crazy sci-fi movie." Clark returned, and they conversed amiably over dinner, bringing each other up to date about events over the past thirty or so years. As they finished their meal, Conor's super-hearing alerted him to a sound outside the front door; someone was coming in with a key. He used his X-ray vision to see who it was, and was very surprised to recognise Jimmy Olsen. Quickly he spun into the Superman suit, thinking that at least Jimmy shouldn't be too surprised to see the Super-hero visiting the Kent household. Jimmy strolled into the living-room, apologising as he did so. "Sorry, guys - Katy sent me over. She thought she left something... Hey!" he exclaimed, an arrested expression on his face as he stared at Superman. "CK, who's that...?" Conor shot Clark an anxious glance. <> Clark laughed aloud as he realised what had happened. "Conor, this is one thing we hadn't got around to telling you yet. Jimmy knows I'm Superman - we told him about six years ago." Turning to his son-in-law, he said, "Jimmy, come and meet an old friend of ours, Conor Kane." Conor shook Jimmy's hand briefly before spinning back into his normal clothes; he felt a little self-conscious at being dressed as Superman when it wasn't necessary. Jimmy stared again. "Wow! You've got super-powers too? Are you related to CK or something?" Clark and Conor exchanged glances before Clark explained. "It's kind of complicated, Jimmy. Remember we told you about the alternate universes? Conor is another Kal-El, only he didn't get found by the Kents. His wife is Laura Lindsay, but she's his world's version of Lois." Studying Conor again, Jimmy frowned. "You're a lot younger than CK. Did you arrive on Earth more recently?" Conor grimaced. "Actually, my spaceship landed much earlier, but HG Wells took me to 1970 instead. I'm only about four years younger than Clark." "Four years...." Jimmy found this hard to believe. "Yeah, I was wondering about that too, Clark," Conor commented. "I know our molecular structure slows down the pattern of ageing, so why do you look so much closer to your actual age?" Clark hesitated, exchanging glances with Lois. He had no wish to make Jimmy feel guilty, as he knew the younger man would. But Jimmy realised the answer before Clark could find an escape route. "I get it - you gave up years of your life for me when Veda Doodsen used that machine of hers on me," he said slowly. "I never thought about it before - about what kind of effect doing that might have had on Superman. Not even after I realised he was you.... God, *how* can I have been so thoughtless not to have realised what you did for me!" Clark hurried to place his hand on Jimmy's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "Look, I did it for a friend, okay? You think Lois and I wanted you to die? And anyway, you did me a favour. I'm almost sixty-five, and to be perfectly honest, I have no wish to look like I'm only forty-five. And I'm not particularly keen on the idea of living until I'm a hundred and fifty, or something ridiculous like that. So forget it, okay?" Conor, listening to the exchange, couldn't quite work out what had happened, but he guessed that Clark would be happy to change the subject. He grinned at Jimmy and said, "Actually, we've met before. Thirty years ago, at the Planet. You thought I was Clark and asked me about some football game you were sure Clark would have watched." Puzzled, Jimmy frowned at Conor. "Hey, I looked a lot more like Clark then," Conor added, seeing Jimmy's scepticism. "And I was pretending to be him - he was trapped in my world, and I was here. You asked what I'd thought of the game, and I bluffed, saying it had been good, then you disconcerted me completely by saying Clark's team had lost. I was sure I'd given myself away." Jimmy's eyes widened. "Hey, I do vaguely remember... I just thought CK was in one of his weird moods. He often had them then - or at least, that's what I thought at the time. Course, looking back, I know it was probably all to do with concentrating on what was going on in the next city rather than what was going on right beside him." *************** Sarah had intended to spend the evening doing some preparation for a seminar the following day, but she found herself unable to concentrate. It wasn't just the shock of the attack - near-rape, she reminded herself. Her thoughts kept drifting to her rescuer. The younger Superman was really incredibly good-looking, she thought. Of course, he most probably knew it, and even more probably he had a wife and children of his own somewhere. His smile, his concern... no doubt these were all part of his routine. Rescue the damsel in distress, deal with the bad guys, make sure said damsel is unhurt and safe. See her home, and there's another good deed for the day. I could probably write a feminist etymological critique of the patriarchal behaviour of the indigenous Metropolitan Super-hero, she thought in self-parody. How such beings are a physical anthropomorphism of every woman's fantasy male, but unattainable, which was probably just as well since underneath the flashy outfits their characters no doubt were flawed in some way. But... Superman had been kind. Very kind. And that smile of his.... He had looked at her, for a brief instant, as if she was an attractive woman, not the dowdy frump she chose to be these days. And for the first time in a long while, a man's recognition of her attractiveness as a woman hadn't frightened her. Strangely enough, the attempted rape didn't bother her either. Superman's timely intervention almost seemed to have driven the fear from her mind. If only she could drive these thoughts of the unattainable Super-hero from her mind as well. ***************** "You're telling me Jimmy's your *son-in-law*?" Conor stared at Lois and Clark incredulously. Lois grinned at him. "I know - we were just as shocked when Katy came and told us she wanted to marry him. Sure, the age-gap sounds terrible, but Jimmy seems to be the right man for her. And I have to admit she's the right woman for him." Conor examined Katy's wedding photographs with interest, commenting that she looked very much like his daughter Joey. "And here's Jon at last!" Clark exclaimed, his Super-hearing having caught the sound of his son's footsteps on the path outside. "We thought he might be here for dinner, but he must have been called out to something." He grinned at his guest. "You'll find Jon a little different from when you last saw him, Conor." Conor merely nodded; Lois noticed and wondered at it. He seemed to have become tense all of a sudden. Jon joined the group, surprised to see a slightly younger version of his father in the family living-room. He blinked, then said easily, "Let me guess - a long-lost Kent cousin - unlikely since you were adopted, Dad, a clone, or a version of you from another universe?" "Conor Kane," the visitor volunteered, extending his hand to Jon. "And you're right - I'm from another universe." "Ah - I've heard about you!" Jon told him. "You and your wife used to play Dad and Mom on TV in your world." Conor nodded, but as Clark watched him he became increasingly convinced that something was upsetting his visitor. Subtle attempts to probe Conor's thoughts proved futile; their guest had closed his mind to communication and was behaving increasingly stiffly. In an instant, Clark had made his decision. <> Jon shot his father a shocked glance. Telepathy? Since when...? He concentrated. Would he be able to do it too? <> "Sorry, guys," he said briefly. "I think Superman's needed somewhere, and it's my night on duty." He turned and strode towards the kitchen, taking off from the back garden seconds later. Conor glanced at his hosts. "I guess it's time I was going too." "No, you don't," Lois instantly replied, taking Conor's arm. "I don't know what's going on here, but I can see enough to know there's something wrong. Clark, why did Jon leave?" <> Conor told his friend. <> "Lois, I asked him to come back later. Conor," he added, addressing his alternate self directly, "I noticed a couple of hours ago that you were uncomfortable when I asked you about your family - then you suddenly freeze when Jon comes in. What happened - did you and Laura have a baby who died?" The final question was voiced softly, sympathetically. Conor sighed, then threw his hosts a resigned glance. "Okay. I've never told anyone else about this, but I guess you two are different...." *************** *************** - An Alternate Universe, twenty-seven years earlier - Tucking a cushion behind Laura's back, Conor smiled down lovingly at his very pregnant wife. In less than a week, if their doctor's estimate was correct, she would be giving birth to their second child. Their daughter Joey was eighteen months old, and they were looking forward to having a little brother or sister for her. Preferably both - they wanted three or four children in total. As Conor prepared to sit next to Laura and massage her calves, his Super-hearing kicked in. "Sorry, sweetheart, but there's something going on outside. I need to check it out." Laura just smiled; she was by now well used to her husband's comings and goings. After all, what else had she expected when she'd married Superman? But Conor wasn't gone long; within a couple of minutes he was striding back into their sunny day-room, a strange expression on his face. "Laura, we have a visitor." She glanced around, and inhaled sharply as she realised just *who* their visitor was. "H.G. Wells!" Her gaze flicked to Conor, then back to the time-traveller. "It's great to see you... but is something wrong? Are Lois and Clark all right?" "Do they need my help?" Conor interjected quickly, hoping that this wasn't the case. At any other time he would be delighted to go and help his friends, but not with Laura's due date so close. "Ahem... no, the Clark Kent and Lois Lane whom you met are both in excellent health, and not in need of any help at present," the writer replied, a little awkwardly. "But another Superman and his wife are very much in need of assistance." "*Another* Superman?" Conor exclaimed, wondering whether Wells was inferring that it was a counterpart of his in another universe. Then he remembered that Lois had told him of another Clark whom she had met, and who had come to help her when her husband had been sent into eternity by Tempus. This had been a Clark whose other identity was no secret: the whole world had known that he was Superman. Was it this Clark? If so, then he must have found, and married, his Lois. He turned again to Wells. "At any other time I'd be glad to, but you must be able to see that I can't leave Laura right now." He thought that Wells seemed to flinch at that remark. Looking distinctly uncomfortable, the time-traveller explained his mission. "You see, Mr Kane, Miss Lindsay, the couple of whom I speak are desperate to have a child of their own. Unfortunately, Superman's wife is unable to conceive. And if their world is not at some future date to degenerate into a violent dystopia, the Kryptonian line must be carried on." Laura frowned, puzzled. "So you want me to donate some eggs for fertilisation and implantation, or something like that? Of course, once the baby's born and I'm... um, back to normal." "I'm afraid that won't do, Ms Lindsay," Wells replied, by now extremely uncomfortable. "The young lady's problem would prevent her from carrying a pregnancy in any circumstances. No, I am very much afraid that this couple's only chance of becoming parents rests in the baby you now carry." Conor froze. What the *he...*? Did Wells mean what it seemed that he meant? "I'm sorry?" he enquired icily. "I regret very much that I am here to ask you to allow your child - your son - to be adopted by Mr Kent and his wife," Wells explained. Laura thought. "No. Absolutely not. Under no circumstances." Conor rejected the idea out of hand, refusing to allow it even one second's contemplation. It was *outrageous* - just what made this time-traveller and self-appointed guardian of the Kryptonian inhabitants of a number of universes think he had the right to demand something as... as unacceptable as that? To ask them to give up their own child - it was barbaric! His gaze swung to Laura; she was staring up at him with eyes which radiated fear. Her hands were clasped protectively over her swollen stomach, and her expression spoke louder than any words could ever have done. 'Don't let him take our baby...' 'Never,' he silently promised her. Turning back to glare at Wells, Conor strode towards the door. "You'll understand if I ask you to leave now. Not only is what you ask completely out of the question, but I will not have you upsetting my wife." His stance projected the unspoken threat that if Wells did not leave instantly, Superman would make sure that he was removed. The time-traveller sighed unhappily. "Yes, yes, quite. I'll go now. But I will come back in a day or two to see if you've changed your minds." "There is *absolutely* no chance of that!" Conor informed him as he showed Wells out. *************** Laura was distinctly unsettled for the rest of the evening, despite Conor's assurances that he would never allow Wells to take their son. Conor could have killed the time-traveller for upsetting Laura so near her time. He resolved to ensure that when Wells did return, it would be he and not Laura who dealt with him. He would make sure that Wells understood once and for all that his request was unacceptable. But by the following day Laura was actually beginning to consider Wells' request, much to Conor's disbelief. He stared at her, appalled, as she suggested that they should at least discuss it. "Laura - you can't be serious!" "I've been awake most of the night thinking about it, Conor. I think we need to talk about it." "There's nothing to talk about," he stated with finality. "Isn't there?" she asked. "Conor, what if it was us?" He stared back at her, stunned. "Laura, honey, I can't believe we'd ever want to take someone else's child away from them!" "But it wouldn't be like that," she suggested softly. "These people... they're us. Just in another dimension. Just like Lois and Clark are us." "They're *versions* of us, sure," Conor accepted. "But it's not the same - I mean, when Clark was here with you, you weren't tempted to want to be with him, were you?" "Of course not," Laura agreed. "But if I'd never met you, I would have been attracted to him - precisely because he is you." "Okay, so our son would be brought up by parents who would love him as if he was genetically their own, and to all intents and purposes he would probably be genetically theirs," Conor agreed. "And because they're us, you think they would love him like we would - and they would be able to teach him about his Kryptonian side?" "Yes - so it's not like a normal adoption," Laura agreed. "Fine, but I still don't understand why we're even discussing this!" Conor exclaimed. "How could we even contemplate giving up...?" "Because you're Superman, and you have obligations?" Laura suggested. "Because neither of us could bear the thought of how we'd feel in the same position?" Conor thought. The discussion continued well into the following day as well, but by the time Wells returned it was two very subdued people who escorted him into their sitting-room. Laura faced the time-traveller, her face pale. "We've come to a decision, but we need to know a few things first." "Of course." "He will be loved? He will be happy? We know you know everything that happens...?" Wells gave her a sympathetic glance. "Yes, Miss Lindsay, I know what will happen if you and Mr Kane agree. And young Master Kent does indeed grow up to be a fine young man." Conor interrupted as a thought struck him. "You mean you knew all along that we'd agree?" "Not necessarily, Mr Kane. The course of time is in continual flux, especially in your world." Wells paused, then said, "I had no intention of telling you this, but since you've made your decision now, I will inform you that a couple of days ago, when you were both adamant that you were not willing to give me your son, the future of your world was undergoing some grave uncertainty." Conor stared at him. "You mean that if we'd said no... it would have caused things to change in our future?" "Perhaps indeed, Mr Kane. But I'm happy to say.... Well, anyway, we need to make arrangements." Wells had thought of everything, it seemed, even how they were going to explain the lack of a baby to family, friends and the press. Once Laura had gone into labour, she had been taken to a very private nursing home. She and Conor had spent a precious half-hour with the son they had wanted to name Jon, before handing him over to the time-traveller to take to the other universe. The official story put out was that the baby had died very shortly after birth, from a congenital defect, and a medical certificate had been produced for that purpose. The story had also allowed Conor and Laura to grieve openly for the loss of their child. **************** **************** - Metropolis, the present - Lois shook her head slowly, staring at Conor as he finished his explanation. "How dreadful - I just can't imagine how we would feel if we had to go through that - to give up Jon or Katy.... How did you and Laura cope?" "It was tough," he told her quietly. "Like anyone else who loses a child, I guess, we grieved and just tried to get on with our lives. I was never sure whether it was better or worse knowing that Jon was actually alive but in some other universe - at least if he was dead we'd know we could never see him again. But all these years we've known he was alive, only we weren't able to see him." "And... did you have any other kids?" Clark asked. Conor smiled wryly. "At first, no, and after a while we were glad about that because we figured we wouldn't want a child who was a substitute for someone else. But six years later, just as we'd resigned ourselves to Joey being an only child, Laura suddenly got pregnant again." "And...?" Lois prompted. "We had twins that time, a girl and a boy. We called them... um...." Conor hesitated suddenly, throwing his hosts a slightly awkward glance. "Louis and Clare. The nearest we could get to Lois and Clark without attracting attention." Clark exchanged glances with his wife, both touched beyond words at the notion. Conor saw the exchange and gave a half-smile. "You two were really great to us - I know I could never have had the confidence to carry on as Superman without you, Clark. And Laura really appreciated the things you both told her about what it's like to be married to a Super-hero. We've never forgotten you." Lois wrapped her arms around her old friend in a hug of friendship and comfort. "We've never forgotten you two, either. Or what you did, catching Tempus like that." Conor caught her hand as she released him, and squeezed it. "Thanks." After a few moments, he added, "We don't talk about our son much now, and actually I hadn't really thought about it for a while. It was only seeing you earlier, Clark, and having you ask about our family - that brought it all back, and then when I saw your Jon, it struck me that he probably looks exactly like our son would now. It wasn't really upsetting, just sort of sad. It brought back the memories, that's all." <> Clark tried to express his sympathy to his counterpart, but he was aware that anything he could say was vastly inadequate. Aware that Conor was still hurting inside, whatever he was saying openly, he tried to transmit some of his own inner strength. After a few moments, he felt Conor communicating with him in return. <> Conor smiled at Lois then and added, "Actually, Wells has come to see us a few times over the years and filled us in on how he's doing. Seems he's quite a hero now in his own world, so we did the right thing. And I want you to know, Laura and I both know that if we could go back and make that decision all over again, we'd do exactly the same thing. We don't regret it." Lois glanced at Clark. "I wonder if it's the Clark we met?" Conor shrugged. "Wells would never tell us." He seemed about to say more, but then a distracted expression appeared on his face. "Sorry, but I think I'm being told I need to get going." "I'll see you out," Clark offered as Conor went to embrace Lois. "Wait!" Lois exclaimed as Clark was about to lead Conor back into the kitchen. "Before you go - you have to take a copy of Clark's book with you." She ran to the bookshelves and seized a copy. "Clark's *book*? Hey, I'd love to!" Conor took the book from Lois, scanning it excitedly. "I'd no idea you'd gone into the publishing business too. Hey, this looks like serious stuff!" A little embarrassed, Clark shrugged. "Don't know if you'll be interested, Conor. But you're welcome to it." "You got to sign it," his counterpart demanded. Clark did so, but had a note of warning. "You better make sure no-one but you and Laura ever sees this, since I'm officially only a fictional character in your world." <> Clark told his friend as they walked out into the rear garden. <> <> Conor insisted. <> <> <> "How do you know?" Clark demanded aloud. "I mean, you were able to come here tonight - what's to say the next time you need to talk to me I won't 'know' and be able to visit you?" Conor shrugged. "Clark, I have no idea. I can't even explain what happened tonight. All I know is that I just suddenly 'knew' that you needed me. And as soon as you asked if I could come here, I knew that I could if you gave your permission." "So... what if I give you permanent permission to come here whenever you want?" Clark suggested slowly. But his friend shook his head. "I can't explain it, Clark, but I know it doesn't work that way." He turned then, continuing to walk towards the end of the garden; suddenly his image became fainter and gradually more transparent. As he faded completely out of sight, Clark heard Conor's voice in his head again. <> *************** Clark returned to the house to find Lois making coffee in the kitchen. She studied her husband's expression in loving concern, suspecting that he might be depressed about saying goodbye to Conor again. "He's gone, then?" "Yeah - just now." She advanced on him, sliding her arms about his waist and offering him the comfort of her embrace. "Are you okay?" Clark smiled, enjoying the sensation of holding his beloved wife, inhaling her scent and feeling the softness of her small frame. "Yeah, I'm fine. You know, hearing what he and Laura had to go through really made me realise how lucky we are." "To have our two wonderful kids, and to have had Jonathan and Martha for so long?" Lois supplied. "Yeah. Sure, I miss Mom and Dad, but *he* never had them at all. I could see that mattered to him when we met first - and you said he found it hard to spend time with them, because it made him see what he'd missed out on." Lois fell silent, thinking about their old friends. It had been wonderful, and so completely unexpected, to see Conor that evening, and she could see that it had also meant a lot to Clark to talk to his 'little brother' again. But she could hardly bear to think about the sacrifice their friends had made for another Kent family. She wasn't sure whether she and Clark could have made that choice. On the other hand, could they have lived with themselves afterwards had they refused? Thinking back, she remembered the first year of their marriage; the time when they had first thought about having children. Clark had consulted Dr Klein about the potential compatibility of Kryptonians and humans, and Klein's initial tests had suggested that Clark would be unable to impregnate an Earth woman. That had been a very difficult time for the two of them; they had even considered adoption, though that had really been a non-starter. What if they hadn't been able to have children of their own? What if HG Wells had offered them the child of another Lois and Clark? She could see how Conor and Laura had arrived at their decision, though the idea of making such a sacrifice made her blood run cold. She raised her gaze to Clark's. "I wish we could have been there for them, you know, all those years ago." "I know," he murmured. "But, you know, we had Jon and Katy by then - they might not have wanted us around." He hugged her again, then stepped back. "Come and sit down - there's something I promised I'd talk to you about." "You promised, hmmm?" Lois enquired, following Clark through to the living-room. "Was this what was going on with you and Conor?" "Yeah," he confirmed, sitting on the sofa and pulling Lois down so that she was relaxing against him, his arms about her. "I'm afraid I was obsessing again, earlier... finding Bill like that set me off. I was just thinking about losing people I care about." "I know, Clark, but it happens," Lois said softly. "Yeah, but I was thinking about someone in particular," he replied gently, nuzzling her earlobe. She glanced around at him. "Me." It wasn't a question. Lois might not have the Kryptonian telepathic abilities which, it seemed, their children shared with their father, but she knew Clark so well by now that telepathy was unnecessary to understand his thoughts. "Yeah." He fell silent for a moment. "Oh, not the same way I used to obsess all those years ago, thinking that one day I'd just be too late to save you. But now, I keep thinking... you're sixty-four, honey, and...." "Clark, sweetheart, I'm not planning on leaving you just yet!" she informed him mock-tartly. "But sure, one of these days I'm going to die. So are you, probably - I know what Dr Klein said all those years ago, but you did give up a lot of your life force and you've aged pretty much in line with your years - well, almost. I suppose you could pass for fifty-eight at a pinch," she added teasingly. "But the way I look at it is we've had more than thirty wonderful years together. Whatever we have left to us is a bonus - and considering when you went to New Krypton we thought you might never come back, the time we've had has been extra-special." Clark leaned forward, slanting his lips over Lois's and kissing her deeply. Drawing back then, he murmured, "So we should be thankful for what we've had, and be happy for the wonderful times?" She stroked his face. "Absolutely. No regrets at all - I want you to promise me that, Clark. No regrets, ever." He smiled at her, all the love he had ever felt for this wonderful woman reflected in his expression. "No regrets. Ever." ***************** Jon was at his desk early the following morning; he had been up since 3:30 am assisting at a rescue operation following the sinking of a cruise liner, and he hadn't felt it worth his while to go back to bed. Anyway, he had some thinking and planning to do. He had eventually returned to his parents' house the previous evening, making sure first that their guest had departed and that his parents were not otherwise occupied. He smiled at that thought: even after nearly thirty-five years of marriage, his parents were still the most romantic couple he knew. They not only still loved each other, they were still *in* love with each other, in every possible way. They still had a very active sex life... but then, why should he be surprised at that, he mused dryly. His father was the original Superman, after all. Though his mother must have a high endurance level, he thought with a grin. He had been very curious to find out more about these telepathic abilities he and his father seemed to share. Clark had never mentioned telepathy to either Jon or Katy before, though once he began to think about it Jon remembered that there had been some mention of the New Kryptonians, who had visited Earth two or three years before he was born, having used telepathic communication. He had also wondered why Conor Kane had been uncomfortable meeting him; he had sensed the older man's discomfort as soon as they'd shaken hands. Given that Conor was considered by his parents to be a very close friend - and also considering that Conor had met Jon as a toddler - the reaction seemed odd. But, once he'd been told the reason, he could understand the other Superman's behaviour. The story had given Jon something of a restless night. He'd been aware, from something Dr Klein had said many years before, that when his parents were first married there had been considerable doubt about whether they were biologically compatible, and they had been told they wouldn't be able to have children of their own. he had begun to think. But common sense had asserted itself with the coming of dawn. If Clark and Lois had genuinely not been genetically capable of having children together, then surely Conor and Laura would have been equally incapable. And Jon had seen photographs of Lois during both of her pregnancies, including ones where she was holding him. So he had to be his parents' child, as did Katy. The other Jon had clearly been taken to yet another universe. How would it feel to be that Jon? To know that your parents were from another universe, counterparts of the people who had brought you up? It wasn't comparable to his father's experience of adoption, Jon felt; Jor-El and Lara were from another planet and had little in common with Jonathan and Martha Kent. He couldn't help wondering whether the Jon Kent who was clearly his own alternate-universe counterpart knew anything about his real origins, and whether the young man felt a yearning to visit his real universe. Sighing as he tried to put the topic of Conor and Laura's son out of his mind, Jon focused on the other matters which had caused him a sleepless night. Telepathy... it had been one heck of a shock when his father had spoken to him through a telepathic link the previous evening. It had never occurred to him that, as half-Kryptonians, he and Katy might share his father's ability in that regard. Clark had explained why he had never used telepathy with his son and daughter before, and Jon could understand the reasoning. Clark had pointed out that Jon and Katy would have felt that they had no privacy at all if they had realised that their father could 'eavesdrop' on their thoughts and trace their whereabouts telepathically. So not only had Clark never done it, but he had never told his children about the ability either. Jon grinned ruefully as he considered the implications. He could envisage the scene... returning from a very late night, his father asking where he had been until after midnight, and why exactly he had closed off his mind to telepathic communication. Yes... embarrassing, he admitted. But he could see that the ability could have its uses, in particular if any of them needed Super help quickly. Who needs a signal watch, he mused with a grin. And then there was his encounter earlier the previous evening with the young woman who had been attacked. He had resolved then to get to know her, and he needed to plan out his strategy for achieving that. Jon had never been in love. His mother sometimes joked that he rarely took his head out of his books long enough to notice what was going on around him, although that wasn't exactly true. He had been aware of Katy's feelings for Jimmy for a very long time, and had realised that a relationship had developed between them before his parents had become aware of it. Smiling then as he considered his parents' assessment of his personality, Jon admitted to himself that he had sometimes cultivated that air of detachment or unworldliness. It had proven to be a useful tactic at school, for instance; his classmates and teachers had simply written him off as some sort of 'head-in-the-clouds' academic genius, and as a result they had frequently not questioned him when he hadn't been able to disguise his Super-abilities sufficiently. The 'disguise' had, over time, become habitual, and as such he hadn't been sought after by female classmates at school or college. He had dated, but had never yet met a woman who seriously attracted him. Until now.... But Sarah Fuller clearly had something troubling her, and as a result he would need to tread carefully. **************** A couple of days later, Sarah was in her office making notes for her lecture course when there was a tap on her door. She glanced up in irritation: no-one had an appointment with her, and she had tried to impress upon the department secretarial staff since her arrival that she preferred not to see anyone without a prior appointment. Grimacing, she called out to her visitor to come in. The door opened, and as she turned to see her visitor, her gaze fell on a tall, slim man with short jet-black hair. He looked about thirty, she noted, and as he advanced into the room she realised that she had seen him before - only that morning, in fact. He had been sitting at the back during her ten o'clock lecture. She'd noticed him because, unlike the rest of the students, he hadn't been scribbling copious notes as she spoke. Instead, he had watched her throughout, but since his expression had appeared to indicate that he was following the content, she had tried to ignore the steady regard from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. "Professor Fuller?" She realised that he was speaking to her, and rearranged her expression into one of polite enquiry. "My name's Jon Kent - I wonder if I could talk to you for a minute?" Sarah glanced pointedly at her watch. "I am rather busy, Mr Kent - it might be better if you made an appointment. Though if it's to do with one of my courses, you could probably get the information you need from the Department office." He smiled, a slow, amused grin which made Sarah wonder briefly whether he was laughing at her. "I'm not one of your students, Professor Fuller," he drawled lightly, before explaining himself. "I'm an associate professor in History, and one of the areas I'm interested in is feminist interpretations of social history." Feeling highly embarrassed at her mistaken assumption, Sarah flushed and gestured towards a chair. "I do apologise, Professor Kent." He grinned again. "No problem - actually, it's pretty flattering to be taken for a student. I only finished my graduate studies about five years ago, but some of my students insist on treating me as if I've been teaching for twenty years or more." What did he want? Sarah wondered, but tried not to appear impatient. He seemed to sense that she wasn't interested in small talk, however, for he began to explain the reason for his visit. "I've been reading some of your papers - I like your analyses, by the way - and the reason I wanted to talk to you is that I thought you might be able to help with a project I have in mind," he told her, in much more businesslike tones. As she listened, he outlined an idea for a paper which, it seemed, required the input of someone specialised in feminist sociology. The project sounded intriguing, and she found herself listening with interest. "So - you want me to collaborate with you?" she enquired when he'd finished. As he nodded, she added thoughtfully, "You realise I know very little about American history?" "Not a problem," he assured her. "I know enough about that for both of us. But I don't know enough about your subject to do this on my own. So - how about it?" Sarah's automatic instinct urged her to reject the idea; after all, she had resolved to avoid as far as possible any close interaction with other people. It only led to trouble... on the other hand, this sounded like a fascinating project, and if it worked out it could be very useful for her in career terms. Another publication would always look good on her CV and would please her head of department back home, but additionally the international collaboration, and particularly the interdisciplinary nature of the joint venture, would be very useful when it was time to put in a promotion application. Telling herself that she needed to be practical about this, she raised her gaze to Jon Kent and regarded him steadily. "Yes, I'm interested." His warm, pleased smile caused her heart to skip a beat, before she ruthlessly suppressed any such reaction. She wasn't interested in any sort of relationship with this man - or any man - beyond the business of writing this paper. "I'm very glad," he assured her. "I'll get a detailed proposal to you in the next couple of days, then we can meet again to discuss it, okay?" "That'll be fine, Professor Kent," Sarah assured him, deliberately keeping her tone distant and businesslike. But he gave her another of his disconcerting smiles. "Jon, please. Only my students call me Professor." He strolled, in a casual, loose-limbed manner, towards the door, then turned back just before exiting. "That's J-O-N, by the way, short for Jonathan. Just in case you needed to know." Sarah didn't respond, unsure why she would have needed to know the precise spelling of his name; as he closed the door behind him she realised that, of course, an email addressed to John Kent would probably not reach him. Shaking her head slightly to banish all thoughts of the good-looking historian, she returned her attention to her lecture notes. *************** Jon smiled in satisfaction as he headed back to his own building. He had summed up Sarah well, it seemed; he'd decided the other day that she probably was not likely to respond to an approach from a man who made it clear that he found her attractive. No, he had considered: the way to get to know her was through some common ground, and that would most likely be through her work. And she had taken the bait perfectly. Now, of course, he had to come up with a proposal, but that shouldn't be too difficult. He was genuinely interested in the subject-matter he had outlined to her, and finding an angle which would allow for a sociologist's input would be easy enough. He reflected on the brief interview; during those few moments when he had been outlining his proposal, her guard had dropped. The aura she seemed to project, that of warning the rest of the world to keep out, had dropped and he had caught a glimpse of what he hoped was the real Sarah Fuller. Her expression had become animated, and there had been a light in her grey eyes which.... He smiled wryly. First base, he thought, but there was a long way to go if he was going to get her to accept him as more than a colleague. And he didn't have very much time either, he reminded himself: she was only at MetU for a six-month sabbatical. He was aware that in a way his strategy for getting close to her was similar to that which his father had followed in order to get close to his mother, but unlike his father he didn't have the luxury of a year or two to persuade her that he was the one for her. He frowned slightly as he became aware of the direction his thoughts had taken. He was the one for her? What exactly did he want from Sarah? He barely knew her. But as he pondered this, something his father had said to him some years ago came back to him. Clark had paused, clearly remembering that first meeting. Was it a Kryptonian thing? Jon wasn't sure. He just knew that something momentous had happened the moment he'd stood and offered Sarah his hand to help her to her feet. He didn't know if it was the kind of love of which his father had spoken. But he did know that he needed to get to know her a lot better. *************** Over the next few weeks Sarah found herself spending a lot of time with the young associate professor from the history department. To her surprise, he was not only knowledgeable about his subject and hers, but he was very good company. She had begun the exercise intending to keep their meetings as businesslike as possible, meeting only in his office or hers, and confining conversation to the subject-matter of their collaboration. She had also decided to do as much of the work as possible over the university email network, seeing no reason to meet when they could exchange ideas and drafts easily that way. But Jon had swiftly overruled that idea, informing her that he found collaborations worked better when he could talk face-to-face with his partner. And his expression had been so matter-of-fact when he'd said that, she had been unable to find a reason to disagree. That had been the first instance of chipping away at the walls she had built up around her. The second had been when he'd said he found working in one or other's office claustrophobic, to say nothing of the possibility of being interrupted by students or other colleagues. So he had persuaded her to work over a coffee in the canteen, and on one occasion during a walk in the campus grounds. To her surprise, Sarah found that she actually *liked* Jon Kent. The man was simply impossible to dislike; although he took his work perfectly seriously, he also had a very charming and humorous side, a side which spilled over into his lectures, as she'd realised on the occasion when her curiosity had got the better of her and she'd sneaked in to sit at the back of one of his classes, much to his amusement. It was impossible not to like him when, on one occasion when they were together in her office, he read aloud a particular piece of polemic with which neither of them agreed, adopting a very serious, hectoring tone of voice. She had looked across at him when he'd done that and had caught the merry twinkle in his eyes, which had simply caused her to erupt into fits of laughter. He had laid down the book from which he'd been reading and fixed her with a strange regard. She had stopped laughing and gazed at him quizzically. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," he had replied quickly. "It's just - did you know that's the first time I've heard you laugh?" Sarah froze. He was right; she had almost forgotten how to laugh, and now that she'd remembered she wasn't sure she was happy about it. But to her relief he didn't force the issue. He simply smiled gently and picked up the book again. "Okay, so where do we go with this...?" Now she was trying to decide what to do about his invitation. It was a holiday weekend, celebrating Presidents' Day, and Jon had invited her to spend the Sunday with his family. She had instantly refused, politely of course, but he had refused to accept her answer. He had insisted that he couldn't possibly let her be on her own over a holiday, and that his parents wouldn't in the least object. He had even told her that it was an affront to his American sense of hospitality to think of her on her own while he was having fun with his folks. What did she want to do? she wondered. She was lonely, and the thought of spending the day on her own in her small apartment while everywhere around her people were with their family and friends was profoundly depressing. she reminded herself. Because being alone wasn't any better than being surrounded by people who knew her and knew what had happened, she admitted to herself. The unwanted sympathy and curious, sometimes condemnatory glances of people in her home town were actually not much worse than the uninterested glances of people in this city to whom she was simply a face in the crowd. That surprised her; she had thought that the anonymity of a strange city, where she could be unnoticed, would suit her perfectly. But she was lonely; she missed having people she could spend time with. And Jon Kent was *nice.* It was also clear that he had no romantic or other interest in her; in all their meetings he hadn't once tried to make a pass, or even move the conversation from work to more personal matters. He hadn't even asked whether there was a man in her life; and she realised suddenly that she had no idea whether he was married, or living with someone, or anything like that. The invitation was also tempting for other reasons. Jon had told her about his family, and she had been amazed to discover that he was the son of Lois Lane, late twentieth century icon in Sarah's opinion. Lane was a trailblazer; despite all the advances made by women towards the end of the last century, it was still rare for a woman to be taken seriously in the male-dominated world of investigative journalism. Then, in 2015, Lois Lane had become one of the first female Editors-in-Chief of a serious newspaper, and her fifteen-year tenure had seen the paper go from strength to strength. Sarah read the Daily Planet as her newspaper of preference while in the US, and much admired its quality of journalism and the paper's editorial line. The Daily Planet was not like those of the British tabloids she had come to detest; its journalists, she felt sure, were nothing like those sleazy reporters who doorstepped those people unlucky enough to be considered 'newsworthy,' invaded their privacy, speculated about their lives.... Sarah shook herself; she was trying to put all of that out of her mind. That was why she was in the US, after all. Concentrate on this dinner invitation, she instructed herself. Lois Lane was not the only attraction, she reminded herself thoughtfully; Jon Kent was also the brother of Katherine Lane Kent, and Sarah had read the books Katy had co-written with her internationally-famous photojournalist husband James Olsen. They had been hard-hitting and poignant, and had helped to change attitudes towards war and its after-effects. Katy and James, who would both be there, would be interesting people to meet, Sarah felt. And then there was Jon's father. Clark Kent, award-winning journalist and author, and probably the person who knew Superman better than anyone, if his reputation was to be believed. Sarah had still not been able to put out of her mind her meeting with the younger Super-hero, and on a couple of evenings, when working late in her office, she had yielded to temptation and done Internet searches on the two Super-heroes. There was a lot of information out there, some of which was rather less credible, she had quickly realised. But the more reliable-sounding pieces had mostly come from Daily Planet archives, and a lot of that had been written by Clark Kent, and in the early days by Lois Lane as well. If she wanted to know more about the incredible being who had saved her from being attacked, Clark Kent was clearly the person to ask. Yes, dinner at Jon's parents' house was looking very tempting, Sarah thought wryly. So much for her self-imposed vow of isolation, her desire to avoid other people; but she wasn't avoiding Dr Jon Kent. And he was safe; he didn't try to flirt with her, or even show much interest in her other than her academic abilities. In fact, she had occasionally even felt chagrined that he didn't seem interested in her as a person - which was ridiculous since she wasn't remotely interested in him. And besides, she didn't *want* anyone showing any sort of interest in her - did she? **************** "So, Jon, who's this lady friend you're bringing today?" Clark enquired, giving his son, who had called to the townhouse to borrow Lois's car, an amused grin. "Hey, cut it out, Dad!" Jon threw back. "Sarah's a colleague at the university - she's from England, here on an exchange. We're doing some work together. And since she doesn't really know anyone else in Metropolis, I hated to think of her spending the holiday alone." "Very commendable, Jon," Lois congratulated him, shooting her husband a warning glance. "You did the right thing. And I'm sure we'll all do our best to make her feel welcome - won't we, Clark?" Her husband assumed an offended demeanour. "Lois - as if I'd do anything else!" Turning back to Jon then, he added, "Of course, this does mean we all have to be careful. I know we're used to it, but this is a family occasion when everyone else here knows the... uh, family secret." "Sure, Dad, though we'll all be watching what we say in front of Karen and Michael anyway," Jon pointed out, heading to the door. "I have to get going - Sarah's expecting me." After he'd left, Lois moved to her husband's side, slipping her arm about his waist and snuggling into him as he wrapped his arm around her in return. "Don't be so hard on him, honey," she murmured. "I know you're only teasing, but you have to remember he's very like you." "Well, I know that, but in what precise way?" Clark enquired, a little puzzled. Lois smiled fondly, brushing her lips against Clark's jaw. "Sweetheart, he's very Kryptonian. You don't need to tell me what that means, especially since you told *me* that was why Katy felt so strongly about Jimmy and was never interested in anyone else the entire time she was growing up." Clark shifted so that he was able to trail kisses along Lois's jaw and then nibble at the corner of her mouth. "So you think Jon's finally found his 'Lois'?" She raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly. "Don't you? Haven't you noticed how often he's mentioned her - and considering we see him once a week for dinner, that's been quite a lot!" "But she's only here for a semester," Clark pointed out dryly. "That's not promising." "Clark - if I'd been planning on leaving the Planet while we were just friends, wouldn't you have followed me? You were always sure about your feelings f