Don't Be A Stranger By Wendy Richards Rated: PG-13 Submitted: October 2004 Author's note: This story is a sequel to Strange Visitor: The Evil Vignette, by Tank Wilson and Wendy Richards, which may be found under either of our names on the Archive or Annesplace. Although it's not essential to have read the original story in order to follow this, it may be helpful! I have a lot of people who need to be thanked for their assistance in various ways with this story. First and foremost, Tank Wilson: for writing a story called Strange Visitor: The Evil Vignette, which he thought was perfectly fine all on its own; for not screaming blue murder when I decided - without any permission at all! - to 'fix' his ending for that vignette; and for agreeing to let me write a sequel to a story which, as far as he was concerned, needed no sequel at all - in fact, hadn't even needed the 'happy ending' I gave it. Thank you, Tank. :) Second, RL for giving me the story's title, and he and others for their help with coming up with useful real-life criminals. The readers of this story on the Lois and Clark Fanfic Message Boards , for sticking with what turned out to be a very long and much-interrupted story, since my posting of it coincided with moving continents! It was with great relief that I finally posted the last section in early October - probably for the long-suffering readers as well! And most important of all, a huge thanks and hug to my invaluable, put-upon and deeply-appreciated beta-readers. To Meredith, Kaethel and Elena, who began Bring this but had to pull out as RL became too hectic: I valued your help and suggestions, as well as your continuing interest in the story, more than I can say. To Sara Kraft and Sarah Luddy, who somehow managed to crowbar (without too much difficulty, I should add ) the entire story file from me towards the end and who sent me back detailed comments, enthusiasm and suggestions: you were a terrific help and I did use several of your ideas. Most of all, you reassured me that people wanted to read the story! But most of all to Yvonne Connell, who lasted the whole way through this monster, sending me helpful suggestions, enthusiastic cheers and lots of stuff to make me laugh over a period of more than half a year... you are the best. :) Thank you. And may your own keyboard never dry up! Very many thanks also to Larissa, my Archive GE, who spared my blushes by catching some stupid errors on my part - naturally, any remaining errors are entirely my own fault! Disclaimer: All rights in the copyrighted characters belong to their owners: DC Comics, Warner Brothers. No breach of copyright is intended by their work of fiction, which is being distributed freely and not for profit. ~ Don't Be A Stranger ~ "Help! Superman, help!" Clark halted in the act of crossing the newsroom, glancing around anxiously. This wasn't a good time to get called away. Their department head had just called his section into the conference room for a meeting, and as he was still very much a new kid on the block at the Planet, it wouldn't be a good idea to make himself conspicuous by his absence. But that cry had sounded desperate... Realising that someone was watching him, he turned and saw Lois. She raised one eyebrow in his direction before turning to call to their manager. "Hey, Steve! I need Clark to run downstairs first and pick up a package. We're the only ones the guy will give it to and if neither of us shows, he'll offer it to another paper," she said disgustedly. Clark barely paused to nod his thanks in Lois's direction before heading towards the exits, hoping that no-one other than Lois noticed that he took the stairs rather than the elevator - and that he ran *up*! Twenty minutes later, he slid into the seat beside Lois in the conference room, ostentatiously handing her a rumpled package. "Thanks," he muttered softly before turning to concentrate on the meeting. "Glad you could join us, Kent," Steve said with a tinge of sarcasm to his voice. "Sorry," Clark apologised automatically. "Our source had already left - I had to chase him down." Steve shook his head. "That stuff better be worth it, that's all I can say." "Have we let you down yet?" Lois interjected. Steve rolled his eyes. "I thought Perry was crazy teaming you up with anyone, Lois, much less a rookie, but it seems to have worked out. So far," he added meaningfully. "That's partly because Clark was never a rookie. Check his cuttings file some day - it might surprise you," Lois said in an amused tone. "Course, it helps that he got lucky and was partnered with the best in the business," she added, spoiling the compliment. Clark gave her a private grin. "Yeah, I was lucky," he said in a low voice, then, louder, to his boss, "What'd I miss?" ********* Emerging from the meeting later, Lois tugged on Clark's sleeve, pulling him to one side. "So, what was it, then?" "Truck overturned on the freeway," he murmured in response. "The driver was trapped underneath, so I held the cab up so the paramedics could get him out, then righted the truck once the police had taken their photos. That's what took me so long." Lois shook her head, smiling. "I still can't get used to what you can do!" It was true; even though Superman had been around for more than six weeks now, she felt a continual sense of amazement at his abilities. Despite Clark's willingness to answer whatever questions she had about him and his occasional private demonstrations of his talents, it was still difficult to get her head around the fact that there was a being as incredibly powerful - as *magical* - as Superman on the Earth. And, even more amazing, that he was her friend. Well, there probably weren't many people around who could say that they'd saved Superman's life, she'd reflected on a couple of occasions. And also the lives of his parents... so the fact that she'd ended up as his friend might not be too surprising. At the same time, the way she'd treated Clark Kent when she'd first met him could well have put him off her for life. And it might well have done, except for a madman called Jason Trask and her determination to find Superman's body. And, of course, Clark's capacity for forgiveness. He'd offered her his friendship unhesitatingly after that night, and she'd got the impression that he'd have done so even if she hadn't just saved his life and that of his parents. That all she'd needed to do was tell him that she wanted to start again with him. As she reached her desk and sat, Clark paused beside her, bending to add quietly to her, "That's three I owe you now. Thanks!" A little embarrassed because, after all, she was enabling *Superman* to do what he did best and to save lives, Lois shrugged. "It's nothing. I'm glad to help." "Well, I appreciate it. Want to let me take you for a chocolate sundae after work?" he suggested lightly. "Oh, you know my weaknesses already," Lois said, surprised. Clark grinned. "Well, it's pretty easy to find out..." Trailing off, he touched his ear lightly, and she smiled. No doubt it was simple for someone with his hearing abilities to discover anything he wanted to know. "I see I can't have any secrets from you," she teased. "Anyway, I'd love to. Thanks!" "Great." He smiled again, then returned to his desk. Lois opened the file she'd been working on before the meeting, but her thoughts were elsewhere. On Clark. He was her best friend now; her first ever best friend, in fact. He was the kind of friend she'd never known before, someone who made it clear that he would always be there for her. He was protective towards her, but also teasing. His manner, when they were alone, was always relaxed and frequently affectionate - which still amazed her, because she was well aware of the effect she had on people. People were terrified of Lois Lane. It was an effect she'd cultivated, once she'd discovered that to succeed it was necessary to be tough. Once she'd discovered that men weren't to be trusted - and that letting her guard slip led to disaster. She still resented the heck out of the fact that Claude Valois had won a Kerth for *her* story. And she hated the knowledge that some of her colleagues still sniggered over the easy conquest she'd been for him, and the insulting little details Claude had felt it necessary to share with all the guys in the newsroom - and not even in the men's room, where she wouldn't have had to see them snickering and nudging each other, but by the water- cooler. Right when she was at her desk and trying to work. No, she'd learned not to trust anyone after that. But she trusted Clark. She sneaked a glance at him; his entire attention was focused on his own screen. He seemed to be re-reading something, occasionally tapping the keyboard as he found something he wanted to edit. He was one incredibly good-looking man. Actually, she thought he looked even more attractive as Clark than as Superman. How on earth had she not noticed that before? What crazy stupidity had caused her to treat Clark like something the cat had dragged in while she'd practically swooned at Superman's feet? Well, she'd well and truly got what she deserved for that. The man she'd sneered at and the man she'd swooned over had turned out to be one and the same. Now, there was no way that she could show any kind of a romantic interest in Clark - why would he ever believe that she was genuine? That she wasn't just setting her sights at him because he was also Superman? No, Clark was out of reach so far as anything more than friendship was concerned. Although, Lois thought as she glanced at her file again, trying to remind herself that she really needed to hurry up and get that story finished, it was just as well that there was no possibility of any kind of a closer relationship with Clark. She was the kiss of death to relationships, after all. All of her previous relationships had been federal disasters - there just seemed to be something about her which drove men away. No, which made them think they had to treat her like dirt and then walk away. There was no way that she wanted to risk that happening with Clark. She'd never before had someone in her life who meant as much to her as Clark. Oh, sure, she'd only known him for a few weeks, but already he'd become essential to her in every way. He was her best friend. And she never wanted to lose his friendship. So... they would be friends and no more, and that way she'd manage to hold onto him. Love, she'd learned through bitter experience, was something which just wasn't ever going to be a part of her life. There seemed to be something about her which turned any possibility of romantic relationships sour. Maybe she was just unlovable. Maybe there was something about her - a neon sign over her head invisible to all except eligible guys who were also decent - which declared loud and clear that Lois Lane wasn't worth loving. That she messed up relationships and wasn't worth getting involved with. Whatever... it was certainly true that love was an emotion which had been distinctly lacking in her life. And she'd decided several times already that she would be better off not even looking for it. Love, for her, was best only found within the pages of those paperback novels she occasionally read in secret. So, whatever her feelings for Clark, whether the way her heart seemed to turn flip-flops whenever she looked at him meant that she was in love with him, none of that mattered. It couldn't matter. He was her friend, and that was all he could be to her. She turned her head slightly, just enough to catch sight of him again as he worked at his computer, his dark head bending every so often as he glanced down at his notes. Yes, she needed him in her life. And she would do nothing to jeopardise that. Ever. Including never again giving him cause to suspect that it was his abilities and powers which made her like him. That just wasn't true now, although of course she was amazed and admiring of what he could do. No, what meant most to her now about Clark was the man himself, the qualities of friendship, compassion, kindness, sensitivity and humour which he had in spades. In just a few short weeks, he'd become the most important person in her life. ********** Clark leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee as he began to read over the story he'd just finished. It was fine, he thought; just low-key enough to make it look as if he, the writer, had happened by just as Superman got into action. A short description of the latest Super feat, with a one-line quote from the Superhero himself. With a simple keystroke, he sent it off to the subeditor. One more task to tick off on his list. Instead of moving to the next one, however, he paused, taking the time to glance around the newsroom. He still could hardly believe his good fortune. He, Clark Kent, was a member of the reporting team at what he thought of as the best newspaper in the world. For so many years, he'd dreamed of getting a job at the Daily Planet, and he still had to pinch himself occasionally to persuade himself that it had really happened. Though, of course, it had all nearly ended in disaster, and he still had shivers about how close he'd come to that. If not for Lois... Yes, Lois. He allowed himself to steal a glimpse of his beautiful partner and friend, seemingly engrossed in her own work. At least, she was staring fixedly at her monitor, which probably meant that she was intensely focused on whatever story she was writing. She'd just rescued him once again with that cover story of hers, and he smiled as he remembered her quick thinking and her excuse, which was far better than most of the lousy explanations he'd been coming up with ever since he'd invented his alter ego. Clark could never have imagined how good it would feel to have someone else in on his secret. All his life, from the moment they'd realised just how different he was, his parents had impressed on him how important it was that no-one should ever find out about his abilities. He'd be captured by the government - or, even worse, by rogue scientists. He'd be shut up in a laboratory. He'd be dissected like a frog so that they could find out how he worked; just how different he was. He would end his days as a lab specimen, always assuming that they let him live long enough to know about it. And, of course, their worst nightmare had come true when his secret had been exposed. Jason Trask, who'd claimed to work for the government but who had turned out to be rogue FBI, disowned by his own superiors - although Lois wasn't convinced of that- had found out the truth about him and had captured him. Using Clark's parents as hostages to ensure his co-operation, Trask had kept him in a laboratory for ten days. And since Clark had been unable to give Trask or his scientists any of the information they were demanding, his parents had been hurt. If it hadn't been for Lois, they probably would all have been killed. Clark had felt his own strength draining away bit by bit with the prolonged loss of sunlight. He'd been dying, and he'd known it. Would have died from the loss of solar exposure, if Trask hadn't killed him first with his 'experiments'. He owed Lois his own life and the lives of his parents. For that, he could never thank her enough. The whole episode had been more appalling than his worst-ever nightmares. It wasn't only what Trask had done to him, though that was bad enough; but far, far worse had been having to lie there, powerless, while Trask and his hired thugs had hurt his parents. He didn't know how his parents had managed to get through it all. Stoic as ever, his father had refused to plead with Trask - even when he'd had to sit and watch his own wife be hurt - and hadn't once asked Clark himself to do what Trask wanted in order to save them. Nor had his mother. That hadn't stopped Clark wanting desperately to do anything which would stop his parents being hurt. The only problem had been that the information Trask had wanted hadn't been anything he could provide. And the more he'd said that he simply didn't know, that there was no 'invasion', that he didn't even know where he had come from, the more Trask had refused to believe him. But Trask was dead now. And Clark thanked god for that fact every day. Things were better now, now that his parents' bruises had faded. But he couldn't help wondering if he was the only one of the three Kents who'd had nightmares about their ordeal afterwards. He and his parents had talked about it, of course, but they had just wanted to put it behind them and get on with their lives. No point brooding over things they couldn't change, his father had argued. The point was that they had to make sure nothing like that could ever happen again - so they all needed to be very careful to guard Clark's secret. Though, of course, now more people knew that he was Superman. Thankfully, only people that he was very sure that he could trust. Lois knew. And so, of course, did Perry White, although the Planet's editor had only referred to that fact once after Clark's return. He'd gone, rather nervously, to the Planet offices the morning after Lois had rescued them, unsure whether he still had a job and whether his secret was common knowledge throughout the newspaper building. Even though Lois had assured him that she thought Perry was the only other person who'd realised, he hadn't been able to let himself accept that his secret was safe without proof. It had been surprising enough to discover that it hadn't been blazoned on the front page of the Planet. Even without that, of course, he'd been very conscious that the Planet's editor might not be willing to put up with a reporter who was also a part-time Superhero and who could disappear without notice at any time. However, he needn't have worried. Perry had been overjoyed to see his newest member of staff alive and well, and had automatically assumed that Clark was resuming his employment. And, between the three of them, they'd come up with a semi-truthful cover story for his disappearance, portraying the now-dead Jason Trask as a madman who, for some reason, had assumed that Clark Kent, ordinary reporter, knew how to contact Superman, and had held him hostage. The front-page story which resulted had secured Clark's reputation in the newsroom. He'd come to an agreement with Perry about his Superman duties, too. If he needed to leave for an emergency, he would go, but he had to cover for himself with the rest of the newspaper staff as best he could. Perry would turn a blind eye to any prolonged absences, but there had to be some way of explaining this to the other staff, in case accusations of favouritism were levelled. And, in return, Clark would give the Planet as many Superman exclusives as he could without making other news organisations suspicious. For the sake of appearances, Superman was always referred to in the third person in any conversations with Lois or Perry. Clark was now very used to keeping the two parts of himself separate. And Lois... Lois was becoming a very good friend. The night she'd rescued him, they'd talked for a couple of hours afterwards, he telling her how he'd come to be Superman and she apologising, shamefaced, for the way she'd treated him as Clark, as compared to the way she'd fawned over him in his Superhero guise. They'd agreed to put all that behind them - even though he hadn't liked it at the time, Clark had been able to understand Lois's reaction. After all, who would notice an ordinary guy from Kansas next to someone who could fly? And from that moment they'd been sworn friends, the past put behind them. Yes, life was good, Clark thought with a smile, and with the treat he'd planned for the evening ahead of them still, it was going to get even better. ********* "Ready to go?" Lois looked up to see Clark standing by her desk, his jacket on, clearly ready to depart. "Just let me shut this down." Grabbing her coat, she walked with him to the elevator, but to her surprise he ushered her into the stairwell. "Are we supposed to be on some sort of health kick?" she said, her voice laced with irony. "Because I'm not sure that it's going to make any difference to the four hundred calories I'll be eating!" He laughed. "We're going up, not down," he explained. "And I didn't want anyone to see the elevator going up to roof level." "We're going to the roof?" Puzzled, Lois stopped in her tracks and stared at Clark. "What for?" "Well, I did promise you a chocolate sundae," he said blandly. "Yeah, but the Fudge Castle's down there," Lois pointed out with exaggerated patience. "Did I mention the Fudge Castle? Come on, Lois, trust me. Would I lead you on a wild goose chase?" "Well, unless there's a soda fountain on the roof..." Clark laughed again and caught Lois's hand, tugging her after him. She followed, still baffled as to what he was up to, but willing to follow his direction. It had been a good day, she thought as they hurried up the stairs. That afternoon, a lead had broken on one of their ongoing investigations, and they'd spent several hours chasing down additional information and putting the pieces together. For a while, Lois had thought that they'd have to stay late and take a raincheck on that chocolate sundae. But she'd reckoned without her partner's extraordinary abilities. He'd commandeered one of the smaller conference rooms and she'd sat, her jaw dropping, as he'd scanned through hundreds of pages of documentary records in seconds. And he'd found the missing proof they'd needed to write their story. He was amazing. And what was even more astonishing, he wanted to be her partner. Considering all he could do, and the fact that he was also a talented journalist, if he'd wanted to work solo he could have run rings around her, beating her - and probably every reporter in Metropolis - to the best stories. Yet he wanted her as a partner. And he made it clear how much he admired her own ability as a reporter. His attitude was so different from any other male journalist she'd ever worked with. Every one of them had been interested in promoting their own careers, and they hadn't cared who they stepped on in the process - and she'd come to understand that the only way to succeed was to behave exactly as they did. Clark was turning her expectations of men upside down. And putting her own treatment of him to shame. Yes - as she'd admitted to him the night of the long confessions, as she thought of it now, she had treated Clark appallingly. Right from the moment he'd arrived, she'd resented him. She'd done her best to put him down at every opportunity, and it was only to his credit that he'd fought back - though in a humorous rather than a nasty way. She'd done her best to assert her seniority over him, made it clear that as far as she was concerned he was very much the low man on the totem pole - and she'd even stolen his story. She'd stolen his story - the same crime she'd never forgiven Claude for. And yet he'd forgiven her. And he was waiting for her right now, ready to take her out for ice-cream... Moments later, they stepped out onto the flat roof of the Planet. He dropped her hand, and she instantly felt the loss of the solidity and warmth of his grasp. Then he started to spin, and moments later she was looking at Superman. She'd seen him execute that spin manoeuvre before, but she never ceased to marvel at it. To see him transform from Clark to Superman in less than a couple of seconds was breathtaking. But she didn't even have time to wonder why he'd done it before he was holding out his hand towards her. "Come flying with me?" he asked, a smile in his voice. Flying. With Superman. She'd dreamed of flying in Superman's arms again ever since that first time she'd met Clark in his Superhero guise. He'd flown her back to the Planet then, swooping in through the huge picture window to deposit her beside her own desk - and now, of course, she understood how he'd known exactly where in the newsroom she worked. And he hadn't offered to take her flying again since. She'd been hoping that he would, over the past couple of weeks, but it somehow hadn't seemed right to ask him for a social flight. Sure, he was Superman. But he was also her friend Clark, and since the last thing Lois wanted him to think was that she liked him for what he could do, instead of the wonderful person he was, she was doing her best to let him see that she was focusing on Clark and not on the Super side of him. She'd made that mistake once already, and through luck and Clark's own forgiving personality she'd got a chance to start again with him. She wasn't going to wreck this chance. So she hadn't asked him - for this, or for anything else which would involve him using his Super abilities. Now, it seemed, he was offering. "Wow," she said softly as he scooped her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. "Put your arms around my neck," he suggested. "I'm going to take off pretty quickly - I don't want us to be seen." The surroundings turned to a mass of indistinguishable colours as Clark swept them up into the air - and yet, to her surprise, Lois didn't feel any of the dizziness or discomfort she'd have expected from the speed they were moving at. She allowed herself to relax against him, watching the scenery rush past beneath them. Then she heard his voice in her ear. "You okay?" "Are you kidding? This is wonderful!" Lois exclaimed. "I'd forgotten how fantastic it felt to fly with you - last time, I think I was too caught up with trying to figure out who you were to enjoy the flight. This... wow." His laughter tickled her hair. "We'll have to do this more often, then. I don't often get to share this with anyone." "I'm glad you're sharing it with me." As they flew, he pointed out states and landmarks to her, all of which sped past in the blink of an eye. They were travelling far faster than even a supersonic jet, she realised as she saw how quickly the state borders he was pointing out were vanishing beneath them. Even the fairly basic knowledge of physics she possessed told Lois that she should be vaporised... and yet she was perfectly safe and whole in Clark's arms. And, despite their altitude, she wasn't even cold. He truly was an incredible man. And, astoundingly, he was her friend. *Her* friend. Lois Lane, the woman who didn't really have any friends - who'd never really noticed the absence of friends in her life before now. They were flying over the ocean now - the Pacific, she realised, off the coast of northern California; the shape of the coastline told her that much. She still had no idea of their destination, and Clark's grin when they'd emerged onto the rooftop had told her that he had no intention of telling her his plans until he was ready. And then the scenery below began to take on a more defined form, and she knew that they were losing altitude. "Isn't that the Golden Gate Bridge?" she exclaimed, recognising the distinctive orange towers. "Sure is," he answered. "San Francisco. We'll be landing in a minute. You'd better hold on tight, because I'll have to come down quickly." He'd brought her to San Francisco? They'd flown all the way across the US, just for a chocolate sundae? That was unbelievable... and yet it was the sort of thing Clark could do any time he wanted. No wonder he was so well-travelled. "Where are we?" she asked once he'd set her on her feet in a small back alley. "Between Fisherman's Wharf and the Cannery," he explained, pausing then to spin back into his normal clothing. "The ocean's this way." "Why San Francisco? I mean, this is fantastic! I've never been here, and I can't believe it, but... why?" Clark grinned, guiding her out onto the Embarcadero. "I promised you chocolate, didn't I?" "Well, yeah, but..." They'd passed the Cannery; Clark ushered her across the road and through a grassy area, then gestured ahead. "I wanted to take you to the best place I could think of. And there's nowhere better than Ghirardelli's." "I love their chocolate squares!" Lois said instantly. "They do sundaes?" "There's a small chain of soda fountains," he explained. "They're mostly on the west coast - there's hardly any back east apart from in Florida. And if we're going to Ghirardelli's, how could I take you anywhere else but San Francisco?" "You're out of this world," Lois murmured, almost lost for words. "And I'd have settled for the Fudge Castle? I must have been crazy!" ********* Yes, he was out of this world, Clark mused silently as he led Lois through Ghiarardelli Square and towards the soda fountain. Just another reminder that he wasn't human; that he could never expect anyone to accept him as a normal guy. Still, at times like this he could persuade himself that it didn't matter. Lois's delight in his surprise gladdened his heart, and he resolved to enjoy their evening together. And, if she was interested - and that seemed very likely - he could suggest other trips together. He'd never known just how much better it could be to share his enjoyment of flying, and travelling to different places, with a friend. Though, ten minutes later, watching Lois's ecstatic expression as she ate her World Famous Hot Fudge Sundae, smothered in hot fudge sauce, whipped cream and almonds, Clark found himself wondering whether she thought chocolate or flying was more of a treat. He couldn't help the grin which stole across his face as he studied her; how she managed to keep her slender figure when she was so addicted to chocolate and ice-cream was a miracle. He soon found out; she hadn't even eaten half of the contents of the glass when she sat back and declared herself replete. Pushing the glass over to him, she said, laughing, "It's all yours. So I hope you like chocolate!" "Oh, I think I can force myself." "So." Lois grinned at him impishly. "Do we have to go back straight away, or can we do the tourist thing for a while?" "If you like. I thought you might like to ride the cable car - it shouldn't be too crowded now." "Sounds good. And maybe Chinatown? Can we eat there?" "Eat?" Clark allowed his eyebrows to shoot towards his hairline. "You want to eat again?" Lois shrugged. "In a couple of hours. I mean, all those hills in this city... I'll have walked off the sundae in no time!" "Okay, dinner in Chinatown," Clark agreed. "But, you know, the food's pretty good here but it's still not a patch on Shanghai." Lois blinked. "Shanghai? I guess you've been there, of course... You don't fly over there just to eat, do you?" she asked disbelievingly, her voice carefully lowered. "Whenever I want decent Chinese takeout, sure," he said, enjoying the incredulous look on her face. "Remember that first night we worked late at the Planet?" "You're kidding!" "Nope," he assured her, and burst out laughing at her expression. It felt good to know that being different wasn't altogether a bad thing. Sitting across from Lois, enjoying her company, Clark again felt amazement at how far his and Lois's relationship had come from those first couple of weeks. He still wondered occasionally why she'd treated him the way she had when they'd first met. It was in such contrast to her behaviour now, though he supposed that it wasn't too different from the treatment some other guys in the newsroom occasionally got from her. But it had been far worse with him. She hadn't just been dismissive; she'd been downright rude, offensive and occasionally nasty. There had to be a reason for it. From his knowledge of Lois over the past few weeks, that wasn't her normal behaviour. She was thoughtful, caring, funny and even casually affectionate - a far cry from the cold, arrogant woman he'd been paired with for his very first story. Actually, he had a pretty good suspicion of what was behind her attitude. She'd given him one big clue that night they'd been chained together at EPRAD; she'd told him about that other reporter, Claude, whom she'd slept with and who'd then stolen her story. Clearly, she didn't trust male reporters... though he was sure that there was more to it than that. He'd finally come to the conclusion that he obviously resembled Claude in some way. He probably looked like the guy, and perhaps he'd even - in some superficial way - behaved like him as well. If that was so, he could hardly blame her for reacting badly. That was his theory, anyway. He hadn't had an opportunity to prove it, mainly because he hadn't wanted to ask questions around the newsroom about the other reporter. If it had got back to Lois, she'd have been sure to think that he was gossiping about her - something he would never do, though she probably hadn't know him well enough at that point to know that. And even if it hadn't got back to her, he wouldn't have wanted anyone else in the newsroom to wonder why he was asking questions about the love-rat who'd slept with, then dissed, Lois. But anyway, her initial behaviour towards him didn't really matter any more. She had apologised for it, after all, and after what she'd done for him and his parents he could hardly hold it against her, even if he'd wanted to. And he didn't. He was finding, ever since that night, that he liked her far too much to bear a grudge. They worked together, and also spent time together socially - Lois's favourite means of relaxation could very quickly become pizza and a movie at his place, or so she'd informed him the previous weekend after he'd suggested it for the first time. It had been fun, he thought now, remembering. They'd talked for hours afterwards, discovering all kinds of interests they had in common, and had argued good-naturedly about politics and literature and other subjects. She was ambitious as a reporter, but he was also discovering that she was a fiercely loyal friend. They'd become close - in fact, she was the closest friend he'd ever had, since he'd never before had a friend who knew everything about him. And a friend with whom he could be himself. It was so good not to have to hide his real self around her. That was such a novelty for him, and he found he was loving it. When they were alone, he could be truly himself. He could heat up water with his eyes, or reach stuff on high shelves by floating, or look through walls when she was around if he wanted. It felt great. He felt free. Alone with Lois at her apartment or his, he could use his powers in the same way he would if he was on his own, or with his parents. When he'd fixed her microwave the previous week by, first, X-raying the case to discover that there was a loose connection, and then welding it with his heat vision, she'd stared at him in amazement but then burst out laughing. And twice already, when she'd been so focused on her work that she'd let her coffee go cold, she'd simply brought the mug over to him and given him an expectant look, demanding that he heat it up for her. She was proving herself a good friend to Superman too. She'd covered for him three times now, as he'd just reminded her. And she'd helped him write up Superman stories a couple of times when, as she'd pointed out, it wouldn't do him any good to have Superman too closely associated in the public mind with Clark Kent. Okay, it was true that in doing so Lois then gained herself another byline above a story about Superman - and a front page story on one of those occasions - but he knew her well enough to be sure that it hadn't been her primary motivation. Best of all, her crush on his alter ego seemed to have disappeared completely. He was very glad of that - despite her apologies on the night she'd rescued him, he'd been worried that she might transfer her infatuation to him as Clark. Although of course he wouldn't have objected to Lois seeing him as more than a friend, the last thing he wanted was to have her want him because of what he could do. If all she wanted was to be Superman's girlfriend, he wasn't interested. But he had nothing to be concerned about there, it had turned out; he hadn't once noticed that hero-worshipping look in her eyes since she'd found out the truth. What remained was far better; their relationship was rapidly turning into the most solid friendship he'd ever had. And he intended to keep it that way. Which meant that his own feelings for Lois were under very close guard. The very first time he'd seen her, he'd fallen hard; but, as he'd acknowledged to himself many times since, he'd known her as little as she'd known Superman. His feelings for her at that time had probably been little more than a crush, too. Although of course he still found her attractive, and he longed to kiss her, he knew that keeping her as a friend was the right thing to do. After all, he was an alien. He was from another planet, a planet he still knew next to nothing about. That was a very recent discovery, too; while he and his parents had often wondered whether he could possibly have come from somewhere other than Earth, their suspicion had only been confirmed when, after he'd flown his parents back to Smallville, his father had shown him where the craft he'd arrived in had been buried. Clark had dug it up, and had then been astounded to find a small globe which actually seemed to communicate with him. From the globe, he'd discovered that he came from a planet called Krypton. He was an alien. He now knew for a fact, therefore, that he wasn't human. So how could he assume that he could expect any woman to accept him as a man? As a lover? Okay, he knew that he looked identical to human males, and locker-room talk and comparisons as a schoolkid, and later at college, had reassured him that his body worked pretty much as a human male's did. Well, up to a point. He'd never actually made love to a woman. And that was the only way he would know if he was completely normal in that respect. But how could he make love to someone without being honest with her about himself? And, assuming that he did manage to tell someone the truth, how could he expect her to accept him as he was? He wasn't normal, and that was all there was to it. And, of course, there was his deeper fear, the one which had been the subject of nightmares for him since the time he'd been dating Lana. What if he couldn't control his abilities when making love? What if he held her so tightly that he crushed her? What if he suffocated her? There were so many ways that his actions could result in his lover's death. Oh, he had tried to convince himself that he was worrying about nothing. But then he'd remember the time when he'd got carried away when kissing Lana. He'd tightened his arms around her, holding her so close to him, and he'd deepened the kiss, completely forgetting that he was able to hold his breath far longer than she could. She'd had to struggle to make him release her, and when he had, she'd been almost blue in the face, gasping for breath and holding her ribs as if he'd hurt her. Bruised her. He'd been very lucky that bruising was all she'd suffered. And she'd never let him get too close to her from then on. After that, he'd always been very careful. On the rare occasions when he'd kissed a woman since, he'd touched them very lightly, if at all, and kept any kisses brief. He was careful around his parents too, making sure that he kept hugs brief, his powerful strength under intense control. He was never going to risk hurting anyone ever again. And that was the main reason why any thoughts of Lois as more than a friend were out of the question. Even if she was willing to consider him, a being from another planet, in the light of a boyfriend - which he knew would be very unlikely, despite her early crush on Superman, since after all he knew that she hadn't even considered the consequences of a relationship - he could never risk her safety. As anything more than a friend, he was a danger to her. It was as simple as that. And that, he thought, was why it was time to leave Ghirardelli's and get on with doing the tourist thing. Sitting opposite her, sharing her sundae, was just too dangerous. He was at risk of letting himself fall into the trap of seeing the two of them as more than friends; of imagining that they were like the many other couples sitting around in the cafe - that they were a couple. They weren't, and he knew they could never be. So he forced himself to smile at her and to adopt a light, cheerful tone. "Ready to go?" *********** "Wow! The view from here is *incredible*!" Lois exclaimed, pressing her face against the protective fence running along the side of the Golden Gate Bridge. "It's even better from up there," Clark said, grinning and gesturing towards the sky. "Later, if you want, we can fly over... I'll have to stay high, or at least above cloud cover, but still..." That sounded utterly fantastic. When Clark decided he was going to share his gifts with her, he really went all out to make it spectacular, Lois mused. Some day, some woman was going to be the luckiest person in the whole world. The thought of Clark with another woman, spending time with her, taking her flying, holding her close to him, made Lois wince painfully inside, her joyful mood of seconds earlier dissipating. But, she reminded herself, one day he was going to have a girlfriend. One day he would fall in love. And, as his friend, she was going to have to be happy for him. But that day wasn't today, she told herself. Right here, right now, she had him to herself, and she was going to make the most of every second. She smiled happily at him. "I'd love that, Clark." "Okay. After dinner, then. Before we have to head back." By unspoken consent, they carried on strolling across the bridge, enjoying the evening sunlight along with the San Franciscans who were also out for a walk on the city's most famous landmark. Couples walked past hand in hand - some, Lois noticed, not made up of members of opposite genders, and she acknowledged that at least one thing she'd heard about San Francisco was true. Glancing at Clark, walking in lazy strides beside her, she longed for the courage to reach out and take his hand. Just for the experience of walking hand in hand in what had to be one of the most romantic places in the country: the Golden Gate at close to sunset. It would be nice. But still... It was wonderful to be there at all. "Lois?" Clark, sounding tentative, interrupted her thoughts. "Yeah?" "Can I ask you something?" He still sounded awkward, as if he expected her to reject his request. "This sounds like something I'm not going to like," she said, teasing. On impulse, she bumped her hip against his. "Spit it out, Clark. What's the worst I can do? Tell you I won't answer?" "Well, you might not want to," he said diffidently. "But... okay. Lois, do I look like Claude?" Lois came to a sudden stop. What on earth had made Clark ask that? Why had the idea even occurred to him? "Clark, what the heck gave you that idea?" she demanded, incredulous. "What made you even think of that waste of good oxygen?" She stared at him, noting the anxious expression on his face. Clearly, he had a good reason for his question, but she couldn't imagine what it might be. She saw him take a deep breath before answering. "I just wondered, Lois. I know it's all past history now and I'm not trying to resurrect it - it's just that I'd been wondering for a while if the reason you didn't like me when I first joined the Planet is because I look like him, or I remind you of him in some other way." He thought that? But then, she reminded herself quickly, what else was he to think? To Clark, newly arrived in Metropolis, a nice guy used to being friendly to people and being treated with friendliness in return, her attitude had to have been an unpleasant shock. Lois bit her lip, looking down at the asphalt beneath her feet. He deserved an explanation, but she wasn't even sure what sort of explanation she could offer him. She wasn't even sure that she entirely understood herself what drove her to be so... "Hostile," she said abruptly. "Huh?" His puzzled tone made her look up to meet his gaze again. "Hostile. I was hostile to you." "I guess," he said softly. "I... kinda didn't want to use that word." "That's what it was, though," she admitted. "Look, I'll try to explain, but I'm not sure you'll understand - or think that it's very fair. I mean, I guess it's not fair, but... well, it's not easy to be in another person's shoes." "You mean that you can explain, but I might not see it from your perspective?" Clark asked. "I guess that's what I'm trying to say, yeah." Clark gestured to the walkway in front of them, leading to the centre of the bridge. "Want to walk?" She nodded. And, silently, as he fell into pace beside her, Clark looped his arm loosely around her shoulders briefly, giving her a one-armed hug. The message was clear: he wasn't judging her. He was still her friend, supportive and affectionate. He just wanted to understand. And, she thought, she owed him an explanation. "You know the cliche about history repeating itself?" He nodded. "Heard it once or twice." There was humour in his voice. "I've seen it happen," she said, trying hard to resist slipping into bitterness. "Too many times." "Let me guess," Clark offered. "Guys less talented than you coming in and grabbing all the plum assignments?" He was quick, Lois thought. She hadn't expected him to work it out so easily - unless, she thought with a sinking heart, he was being sarcastic. After all, it was one of the perennial complaints of feminism, that women usually had to work twice as hard as men to succeed. In her experience, that was true, too. Then she looked at him, and realised that his question had been entirely sincere. "Yeah. That was part of it. Then there was the Claude thing, too - I mean, using me, stealing my story. That taught me that I had to be very careful about who I trusted. But even then I didn't write off everyone. I worked with a couple of guys in the year or so after Claude left. I tried, Clark. I really did. But they all seemed to want to prove that they were better than me, or they could get the big stories... I got fed up with them trying to make me do the grunt work while they went for the glory. In the end I just told Perry that I wouldn't work with a full-time partner again. By that time I'd won my first Kerth and was nominated for a second, so he listened," she concluded. "That's pretty lousy," Clark agreed. "But -" "But I shouldn't have taken it out on you? Made you pay the bill for what those other guys did to me?" she cut in to say. "You're right. But after a while it seemed like it was a case of being assertive - even nasty - or be walked all over. I *couldn't* take the risk of trusting some guy I didn't know, just in case he might be different. Too many others weren't. And, yeah, that just turned me into a horrible person. I know that. I... just couldn't figure out how to be any other way and survive." "I can understand that," Clark said softly. "And I wasn't going to criticise. I was going to say that the worst of it is I hate the fact that they robbed you of your ability to trust." Lois stilled, and he halted beside her. She turned her head to look at him, barely knowing how to respond. How could he possibly understand so clearly? No-one else had - well, not that she'd tried to explain to many people. Lucy couldn't understand why she was so mistrustful of men; she tried on a regular basis to persuade Lois that she really should give some guy or other 'a chance'. And, while Perry had - mostly - given up trying to persuade Lois to accept a permanent partner, she'd known that his attitude was more of impatient resignation than real understanding. "I'm sorry that I didn't give you the chance you deserved," she said abruptly, biting her lip. Knowing that he'd so easily understood why she'd behaved the way she had made her treatment of him all the more shameful. "It's in the past, Lois," he said with a shrug, encouraging her to walk onwards. "We agreed that the night you saved me and my parents. I probably shouldn't have brought it up - I wasn't trying to criticise you. It was just that I'd been wondering whether I reminded you of him in some way..." Superficially, in a way, he had. But once she'd known Clark for more than a couple of days, she'd known that there was very little resemblance at all. "You're both good-looking," she told him. "But it was always obvious that he knew it, and he traded on it. You're not like that - I realised that after the first day or so. And when you work with someone, it's a genuine partnership - Claude always had to be the glory-hunter. So, no, you're not like him at all." His hand caught hers momentarily, before releasing it again - too quickly for Lois's liking, and she felt the loss of his warmth immediately. "I'm glad," he said. "Now, let's see if we can make it to the other side before the sun sets, okay?" ********** Back in her apartment later that night, Lois sat back on the sofa which Clark had declared to be an instrument of torture the last time he'd been over... which reminded her; she probably should go shopping for a new couch. He was right. These really were much more showpiece items of furniture than anything designed with their users' comfort in mind. Maybe he'd be willing to go with her, if she went to the furniture malls at the weekend... after all, if Clark was going to keep spending time at her apartment, just as she was at his, then she wanted him to be comfortable. She wanted him to be comfortable. At that thought, Lois shook her head in amusement. Since when had she ever put someone else's comfort before anything she wanted? Least of all the comfort of a man? If someone had told her just three weeks earlier that she'd be making changes to her lifestyle in order to please Clark Kent, she'd have thought they were insane. But now... well, everything had changed. He was her friend. And after that evening's little trip to San Francisco, so was Superman. Clark seemed to be very relaxed and happy to be Superman around her, spinning in and out of the costume, letting her see him perform Super feats whether or not he was appropriately garbed in Spandex at the time. Metropolis's Superhero was making it very plain - albeit privately - that he considered Lois Lane a close friend. It might seem odd to separate Clark and Superman out like that - after all, they were the same person and so if Clark was her friend then obviously Superman was - but in a way Lois had been doing exactly that almost since she'd got Clark back after Trask had kidnapped him. She wanted Clark as her friend. She'd been thoroughly ashamed at the way she'd treated him and the way she'd fawned over Superman at the same time - and so she'd made a special effort to focus on the *Clark* side of him. It wasn't that she ignored the fact that he was Superman so much that she consciously treated him as Clark. So she deliberately made very few requests for him to do Super things for her. Okay, she'd been wowed at the way he'd fixed her microwave last week, but she hadn't asked him to do it; she'd been complaining about having to get it fixed and he'd just gone and taken a look. She had asked him to heat up coffee for her a couple of times, but that was only after he'd done it once on seeing her take a sip of what had turned out to be cold coffee. He'd come over, winked at her and lowered his glasses slightly; seconds later, the liquid had been bubbling and steam had eddied upwards. "Next time, just ask," he'd said, grinning, before wandering back to his desk. Clearly, heating up her drinks was something he didn't mind doing in the least. And so she'd presented him with her mug and an expectant look a few times since, and he'd obliged with a grin. But still, she didn't want him thinking that his super-powered side was the reason she liked him. And so there would be no suggestion that, since he could fly to the other side of the world in seconds, he might fetch them some exotic takeout for dinner; and definitely no hints that she'd like to go flying. She wanted Clark to have no doubts whatsoever in his mind that it was him, the ordinary guy - or as near-ordinary that someone as *extra*ordinary as Clark Kent could possibly be! - that she wanted as her friend. Her friend. No more than that - even though she still thought that Clark was quite simply the most drop-dead gorgeous man she'd ever met. She'd instinctively thought that when she'd first noticed him, but she'd been too busy trying to get Perry to let her off that stupid mood piece so that she could concentrate on what she'd known - and she'd been right, too! - was a real front- page story. And yet even then, and more so the next day, she'd known that Clark was attractive. But she'd had her fill of attractive men, especially those who used their good looks to get what they wanted from women. And so she'd told herself that she didn't care how he looked. Then she'd seen Superman, and all caution about reacting to attractive men had flown out of the window. Superman was just so magnificent in every way. His good looks had been immediately obvious, and his amazing powers had sent her into awe mode instantly. But what had taken her beyond hero- worship had been Superman's innate goodness. The way he helped anyone, regardless of who they were, how much - or little - money they had, how they had got into the situation they were in. It was that, the decency and integrity she'd seen in the man under the suit, which had made her believe that she was in love with Superman; of that she was sure. But it was the way she'd treated Clark at the same time which now made her ashamed, made her doubt her own judgement once more. She still cringed when she recalled what she'd said to the sketch artist in Clark's hearing. She couldn't have made it any more obvious if she'd taken out a full-page ad in the Planet. Or a billboard outside the building. Lois Lane had a Pulitzer-sized crush on Superman. And Clark Kent might as well be a woodlouse for all she cared. With that memory, there was no way that she was going to let Clark realise that she was still attracted to him - as Clark as well as in the Suit. Or that she'd found herself dreaming about kissing him, or wondering what it would be like to be touched by him - the way a man would touch a woman he was in love with. No; she'd missed her chance with Clark. She'd missed it at the moment she'd told him not to fall for her, that she didn't have time for it. Why should he ever believe her? How could she possibly convince him that she loved him for everything that he was, and not just because he occasionally dressed up in a Spandex suit and saved the world? How could she even be sure herself that her feelings were all for the man Clark really was - the ordinary guy who worked with her in the newsroom, brought her coffee, teased her, wrote stories with her - and not for the smaller part of him which had some amazing abilities? Could she be sure that she found him just as wonderful when they were sitting in his apartment watching a movie as she did when he was flying her to places like San Francisco? Well, she thought she was sure. Although she knew herself well enough to be aware that, if she hadn't made that incredible discovery about Clark, she would still be treating him as something the cat had dragged in. She could tell herself that it was his kidnap, and believing that he was dead, which had made the difference, but would she really have gone searching for a mere Clark Kent? No; it was Superman she had hunted high and low for. Regardless of the fact that, over the past few weeks, she'd come to know Clark for the wonderful, special man he was, she'd made so many mistakes in the beginning that there was no way she could hope to make up for them completely. It was clear, too, from his out-of-the-blue question tonight that Clark hadn't forgotten her behaviour, although he had forgiven her. And so there was no way that she was going to embarrass him - or herself - now by making a play for him, or even hinting that she'd be open to something more than friendship. No; it was far better to play safe, be his friend and hang onto the only relationship she'd ever had which actually meant something. The one relationship in her life that she cherished beyond anything. *********** The next morning, Clark entered the newsroom bearing two carryout coffees from the Daily Java. On his way to Lois's desk, he detoured via the watercooler, snagging a couple of doughnuts from the box. "Morning, partner," he said cheerfully, placing Lois's double-chocolate mocha on her desk along with a chocolate doughnut. "Hey." She smiled up at him. "Mocha?" she asked hopefully. "Need you ask?" "I'll be putting on weight if I spend much more time with you," she commented wryly, opening her takeout coffee cup and taking a sip. Raising an eyebrow, Clark gave her a slow once-over. "I can't see a problem," he observed, giving her a teasing grin. She actually blushed, to his amused surprise. "Yeah, well, give it a couple of weeks and you'll see! It's all right for you, Mr I-never-put-on-a-pound-because-I-have-a-super-metabolism!" "Hey, any time you want a jogging partner, I'll be there," he offered. "Don't think I won't take you up on that," she warned with a grin as she reached for her coffee again. Laughing, Clark took his own coffee and doughnut back to his desk. As he loaded the research files for the story he was currently working on, he couldn't help thinking about his attractive partner, and the terrific time they'd had the previous evening. He really loved spending time with her, and it gave him so much pleasure to see her delight in new places and new experiences. Their conversation had been good, too - at least for him, though he hoped that she hadn't been upset by it. She knew - she had to - that the rocky early days of their working relationship were all ancient history as far as he was concerned. He didn't hold it against her in the least. But he had wanted to understand. He just wished that he could have five minutes with Claude, and with every other one of the men who'd damaged her confidence and her ability to trust. But, since he couldn't, then he was going to do his best to teach her to trust again. She had already made a good start in his case, and he was noticing changes in the way she behaved with other work colleagues. He couldn't wait to take Lois somewhere else; there were so many places in different parts of the world he would simply love to show her, places which were special to him but would be so much more so when he could share them with someone. Someone special. Lois. His best friend. At last, he had someone in his life with whom he could really be himself. After so many years of feeling set apart, detached from other people, he wasn't alone any more. San Francisco with Lois had been great. Next time - well, there was Niagara, or the Amazon Basin, or Paris, or London, or Vienna, or Prague, or the Taj Mahal... In fact, if he remembered correctly, Lois had a birthday coming up. Smiling in anticipation, he mulled over a few options and started planning... The sound of a telephone ringing interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced around in search of the source, just in time to see Lois picking up her phone. He was about to turn his attention back to his work when his attention was abruptly caught. "Mr L - oh, if you prefer it - Lex. This is a surprise." Lex Luthor. Clark felt his gut tighten. He hated even the thought of that man showing an interest in Lois. He had no idea why Luthor had called her, but he was darned sure that it wasn't just business. He'd seen the way Luthor had looked at Lois at the White Orchid Ball. And anyway, Luthor was known to be reclusive where the press was concerned. The man was happy to issue press releases or even give press conferences when he had something he wanted to hit the news, but otherwise he avoided journalists the way other people avoided dentists. So why was he calling Lois? Shamelessly eavesdropping now, Clark caught what Lois was saying. "...interview? Yes, that would be great. Let me see..." She began to flick through her day-planner. Luthor was offering her an interview? Yeah, right. As if that was that was his real purpose in contacting her! Just about managing to restrain himself from listening in to Luthor's side of the conversation, Clark picked up a pencil and started playing absently with it while he waited for Lois's next response. "Yes, that looks good... next Friday, five o'clock. Now, are there any topics you're going to say are off-limits? ...Now, come on, you know I want to ask about the years before LexCorp. I have no intention of simply reproducing your press releases, Lex. I want to know what makes you tick!" By Lois's tone, Clark guessed that Luthor was flirting with her, and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from doing something stupid, like marching over there and cutting off the call. And then he caught himself sharply. What right did he have to object if another man found Lois attractive? What right had he to feel jealous if there was a possibility that she found him attractive too? If only it wasn't Luthor, he told himself bitterly. Luthor. He was convinced that the man wasn't the benevolent, respectable businessman he claimed to be. Those couple of encounters he'd had with the man as Superman gave him good reason to be suspicious. But he was well aware that he had too little to go on. He had no hard evidence, nothing he could give Lois to persuade her that the man was dirty. But if there was a chance that she could end up dating Luthor, didn't he have an obligation to find out the truth so that he could warn her? He did. And he would. It wasn't all dog-in-the-manger possessiveness, he told himself. It wasn't a case of not wanting anyone else to have Lois, even if he couldn't have her himself. He just didn't want her to be in the position of dating someone who didn't deserve her in every possible way - and, even worse, someone who was quite possibly a murderer. It wasn't until some time later that he realised - or perhaps admitted - that the nagging, churning sensation in his gut wasn't only due to the fact that it was Lex Luthor who was coming on to Lois. He would have felt possessive - no, jealous - no matter who it was. That was crazy! he told himself. He had no right to feel possessive of Lois. No right to be jealous. She wasn't his, after all. They weren't involved with each other. They were friends, no more - and would be no more than that. They couldn't be any more than that. He knew that it was impossible. There were so many reasons, chief of all being his fear - no, his absolute certainty - that he would hurt her if they became intimate. Maybe even kill her. It didn't even have to be intimacy. His experience with Lana had shown him that even a hug, even a kiss, could be enough to inflict hurt and possibly serious injury. Heck, he'd almost forgotten all the need for caution yesterday evening when they'd been walking on the bridge - he'd just slung his arm around her without even thinking. Just in time, he'd remembered to make his hold on her *very* gentle, keeping his arm hovering millimetres above her shoulder - and then letting her go before he could get too used to the sensation of having his arm around her. As he'd reminded himself only the previous evening, he was a danger to her. Heck, even taking her flying with him was dangerous for her, wasn't it? Holding her tightly in his arms... but he'd reasoned that, since he flew with people frequently when he rescued them, he'd obviously worked out the most safe and effective way of holding them so that he didn't cause them any injury. For all he knew, the motion of flying, the way the air cushioned him and his passengers as he flew, or even the fact that he had to concentrate on keeping them in the air, helped to protect them. All theories, and not very good ones at that - but still, flying at least seemed safe. So far, at any rate. But he was still only too aware of the evidence that embracing a woman, kissing her, was too hazardous for him to contemplate. And that absolutely dictated that he could never be more than Lois's friend. So what right did he have to feel jealous at the thought of Lois dating another man? No right at all. And no reason. He wasn't in love with her, after all. Sure, he found her attractive. Yeah, he'd found himself enjoying holding her close to him - though not too close, of course - and wanting to kiss her. But she was an attractive woman, so that was only natural, wasn't it? He wasn't really jealous, he reasoned with himself. It was just that Lois was the first person with whom he'd ever shared his secret, the only person other than his parents with whom he could be truly himself. That created a special bond between them; made them close in a way he could never be with anyone else. That was why he was so uncomfortable - unhappy - at the idea of her becoming involved with someone else. After all, once Lois did get a boyfriend, she couldn't be his best friend any more - not in the way she'd been over the past few weeks. Once she started seeing someone, getting serious about someone, he would lose her. And he was only just getting used to having her in his life. It would happen, one of these days. So he needed to treat this experience as a warning: one day he would lose the closeness they had together. And if he acted like a jealous moron when it happened, he'd lose her altogether. If he wanted to keep her friendship, he would have to make sure that she never saw how he really felt about her dating another guy. After all, he'd known for the past ten years that he was always going to be alone, hadn't he? He'd been foolish to even imagine that anything had changed. *********** It was strange but, now that she'd finally got the elusive Lex Luthor interview she'd been trying to get for the past couple of years, Lois was finding it hard to get particularly excited about the idea. So much had happened over the past month or so - Lex Luthor simply wasn't the biggest story in town any more. She knew that he'd been put out by her focus on Superman in the weeks following the White Orchid Ball, but every reporter in the city had been trying to track down Superman at that point. She did want to get the definitive Luthor interview, of course. But now Luthor was just another story, whereas before he'd been... oh, mysterious, intriguing, a challenge. His very elusiveness had made her want to get to him more. And now that he had become the pursuer - after all, he was offering her the interview on a plate, and he'd been making the running ever since the ball - her interest had waned. Luthor was an enigma, and to Lois a mystery was always an invitation to investigate. But, yes, now he was only a story, whereas before, she mused, her interest had also been in the man. After all, he was the third-richest man in the world. He'd built his companies up from nothing, which spoke to his abilities and intelligence. He was a philanthropist, donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to good causes every year. And, she had acknowledged a long time ago, he was very attractive. A couple of months ago, she'd have been very flattered by the fact that Luthor was actively showing some sort of interest in her. She was pretty sure that it wasn't entirely faked; she'd seen the way he'd eyed her at the ball, and had observed the direction of his gaze when she'd danced with him. In contrast, when Clark had cut in and stolen a quick dance, his gaze had not dropped below her face. But then, Clark wasn't interested in her - at least, she didn't think so. Was Lex Luthor? Well, it didn't really matter whether he was or not, she thought. She wasn't interested in him - and since he was rarely out of the news for one reason or another, that was probably a good thing. She couldn't very well report on him if she were seeing him socially. That reminded her, of course, that she was seeing Superman socially - but the difference there was that no-one knew about it. But, yes, she was fairly sure that Luthor's interest in her went beyond the purely professional. She was also pretty certain that he'd been flirting subtly with her on the phone - and his choice of time for the interview was also rather convenient, if he had some ulterior motive in mind. Just as he'd done before, he would try to turn the occasion into something social, something which might end with her in his arms or even his bed. Not that she had even the remotest intention of allowing that to happen! She was a professional to her fingertips, and when she was doing a job she was focused one hundred and twenty percent on it. Besides, she reminded herself with a wry inward smile, who could possibly be interested in Lex Luthor when Clark Kent was around? Even if she couldn't have Clark, it was difficult even to pretend an interest in any other man - and Lex Luthor now left her cold. "Lois! Clark!" Perry's bark interrupted her musings, and she laid down the pencil with which she'd been intending to scribble down some notes of interview questions. By the look of their editor, he had another story for them - and by the way he was clearly avoiding her gaze, she had a suspicion that this was a story she wouldn't like. So what was new? Meeting Clark's gaze, she waited for him to join her before heading to Perry's office. *********** "Your father's an... interesting man," Clark said dryly the following afternoon as he and Lois walked back to the Planet after their second meeting with Sam Lane. "I guess you could say that," Lois replied after a moment. Although she'd found herself beginning to tell Clark a little about her relationship with her father the previous evening - he'd been naturally curious when Perry had told him that she was the daughter of Sam Lane, the sports scientist - she felt strangely reluctant to confide in him further. He was her friend, and so she knew that he'd be sympathetic and that - as someone with his own secrets to keep - it would never occur to him to mention anything she told him to anyone else. But she'd met Clark's parents. And, in the few short weeks since she'd discovered the truth about her new partner and he'd answered a number of her questions about his origins, she'd realised that his life while growing up might have been a million miles from hers. His parents had seemed so *normal*. They were decent, kind and caring people who openly adored their adopted son, and his own love for them in return was evident in every word he said about them. There was no artifice or pretence in their family relationship. They might have secrets from the outside world, as the Lane family also had, but those secrets had never bled like an open wound into their relationship with each other. Clark had never once had to doubt his parents' love for him. She could bet her next Kerth that he'd never had to suffer the disappointment of a birthday forgotten, a major event passing unmarked or an important occasion at school without at least one parent present. How could the Clark Kent who'd grown up as part of such a perfect family possibly understand what life as part of the Lane family had been like? How could he grasp the concept of a father whose love for his children had been measured solely in terms of what they could achieve of his expectations for them? Of a mother whose maternal love had become subsidiary to her addiction to vodka? And yet he seemed to understand without knowing the full truth. He'd listened to her the previous evening, not asking any questions beyond his initial couple once she'd showed some reluctance, and he'd obviously drawn some conclusions about what she wasn't saying. He'd been polite when introduced to Sam Lane, of course, and had remained discreetly in the background during the brief conversation. But he couldn't possibly have failed to notice the bitterness in her own tone, especially as the meeting drew to an end, or fail to wonder at a father and daughter who had such infrequent contact that in many ways they behaved like strangers. And the comforting hand against her back as they'd walked away, together with the words he hadn't said, had told her without any words that he did understand. And he cared. So now, for the first time in her life, she was walking away from a meeting with her father without the hollow sense of failure a conversation with Sam Lane had always left with her. Because she knew that, whatever her father believed, Clark didn't think that she was a disappointment or a failure. He believed in her. And he liked her just as she was. And that was an entirely new experience for her. ********** "Thanks, Superman!" Lois exclaimed several hours later as Clark scooped her up and carried her to safety before returning to deal with the cyborg boxer. He couldn't resist a private smile of amused triumph to see Lex Luthor arriving just too late to help. They'd solved the mystery and caught the bad guys - well, almost all of them, Clark mused to himself; he had his suspicions about Lex Luthor's involvement in this business, but of course, as with everything else Luthor touched, he had no proof. Not even any circumstantial evidence. And Sam Lane's involvement had been mitigated by his own voluntary statement to the press and then to the police. Best of all, in the last hour or so Lois and her father seemed to have reached some sort of understanding. He'd hated seeing Lois so uptight that morning before they'd left for the meeting with her father; even worse, he'd hated seeing her so upset afterwards. She hadn't said a word to him about the issues which had clearly been just beneath the surface in her exchange with her father. Not that she was under any obligation to - but he wished that she would confide in him. It wasn't just that he wanted to know the real Lois Lane, to understand the brittle, defiant and under-confident woman who seemed to retreat at any hint of real emotion. He just knew that she needed to talk to someone about this - someone who cared, and who would listen uncritically, and who would reassure her that she wasn't to blame for other people's shortcomings. Back at the Planet, their story written and sent to the night editor, Clark allowed his hand to rest lightly on Lois's shoulder as she shut down her computer. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about we go back to my place and I get us some of that real Chinese I told you about?" She turned, and he could see that he had her entire attention. "You mean, from..." Breaking off, she glanced around carefully, noting - as he already had - that they were virtually alone in the newsroom. "From Shanghai?" she finished in a low voice. "Sure." He grinned; the novelty of having someone to share his abilities with still hadn't worn off. "You interested?" "You bet! You know," she added, "You should be careful making me offers like that. I could get too used to them." Watching Lois smile at him, Clark knew that he could definitely think of worse things. Back at his apartment, he told her to make herself comfortable before spinning into his Suit and disappearing to fly to China. Lois wanted to eat casually on the sofa rather than at the kitchen table, so they arranged the bamboo containers on the low table in front of them and picnicked. It was a wonder that she kept her lovely, slim figure, Clark thought in amusement once again as he watched her savouring the variety of dishes he'd brought back. She certainly loved food. The mental list he was keeping of her favourites seemed to grow longer by the week, and he was already planning a trip to Switzerland or Belgium at some point for the sole purpose of bringing her back some chocolates. Or perhaps, he thought as he remembered her delight at the trip to San Francisco, he might even take her with him. He did still have that birthday outing to arrange, after all. "You saved my life again this evening, you know." Lois's voice cut across his thoughts. He turned to smile at her. "Yeah, I guess I did." Frowning then, he added, "I'm just glad I got there in time. I knew that guy was dangerous, but I didn't know just what he was capable of... He'd have killed you, even though he had to know that he'd never have got away." "I'm glad you got there in time too." Lois reached out and touched his arm lightly, briefly. "Though Lex Luthor was on his way too, so I'd probably have been all right. I'm glad it was you, though." Oh, so was he - the thought of being indebted to Lex Luthor for Lois's life wasn't a pleasant one. And that was a point, he reminded himself, making a mental note to discuss Luthor with Lois some time soon. Some time *very* soon, in fact. That man's activities needed the kind of scrutiny that only Lane and Kent - with the assistance of Superman - could give them. And he still didn't like the idea of Luthor pursuing Lois, even if all that ever came of it was an interview. "In fact," Lois continued, "you're making kind of a habit of it. I can't tell you how glad I was to see you when you crashed through the wall of that vault last week." "You should have been yelling for me," Clark pointed out grimly. "Okay, I found you, but next time please make it a bit easier for me, huh? Though," he added after a moment, "I wasn't exactly thinking straight then either. The way I barged through that wall, you could've been killed! Okay, I did X-ray it first to make sure that you weren't right behind where I was standing, but you could've been hit with flying masonry. That was just plain stupid, and I'm surprised you didn't yell at me as soon as I got to you." He hadn't been thinking sensibly at all. The only thought in his mind had been getting to Lois before some madman could kill her, leaving only her lifeless body for him to find. He'd been so stupid! After all his fears that by some thoughtless use of his superpowers he could kill or seriously maim someone he cared about, he'd put Lois in danger. He couldn't bear the thought of the best friend he'd ever had being taken from him in less than the blink of an eye. And so, in that split second when he'd entered the vault and seen her safe and well, all his inhibitions and fear of hurting her had been forgotten; he'd reached for her and held her against him in a crushing embrace. Although she'd hugged him back as tightly as she was capable of, and when he'd let her slide to the ground after carrying her outside she'd clung to him briefly, he still hadn't been able to prevent himself worrying that he might have hurt her - not from the flying rubble, but as a result of not knowing his own strength. He'd even paused to X-ray her ribs before going after the bad guys. She'd been okay. That time. But there would be no other times. Lois was too precious for him to risk her safety, even if he ached, sometimes, to hold her close to him and to taste her lips. That would never happen. He might have saved her life several times. But only he knew that her life would be in even more danger with him. But then, maybe he was deluding himself that, in the absence of any possibility that he could kill her, there would be any chance of a closer relationship anyway. Why would Lois even consider for one second getting involved with an alien? Of course she wouldn't. Who would, after all? That was something he'd always known, ever since he'd started wondering about who he really was - and then, of course, Jason Trask had confirmed his worst fears. He'd lain there, strapped to that table, day after day, powerless to move, while Trask had attempted to conduct his experiments. And in between being prodded at and having questions fired at him which he simply couldn't answer, he'd had to endure Trask's insinuations and barbs. Clark winced at the memories, sighing inwardly. He'd thought he was managing to forget his ordeal - it was almost a month ago now, after all. He'd stopped having nightmares after the first week. Mostly. He'd had one only three nights ago, he remembered glumly. But still... it was hard to forget entirely. Not that Lois would think the way Trask had. He knew that. She didn't think of him as 'alien'. And she had accepted him as her friend. Her very close friend, at that. But there was a huge difference between friendship and a more intimate relationship, wasn't there? And who said that, even if he thought it was possible - which he didn't - Lois would ever consider a relationship with someone from another planet? Another species? Yet she'd practically swooned at Superman's feet when he'd first worn the disguise... Yes, he reminded himself; but she hadn't known then that Superman was an alien. Heck, no-one had. He hadn't even been sure of it himself. It was Jason Trask who had come out with that little piece of information - and made sure that Clark knew it, and knew how much it disgusted him. How much it would disgust everyone... "Clark?" He raised his head from the carton of Szechuan chicken he'd been staring into. "Sorry. Did you say something?" "I just wondered what was so fascinating in there," she said, laughing. Then, as he was slow to respond again, she added, "Is something wrong? Are you... you're not mad at me, are you?" "Mad at you?" Taken aback, he stared at her. "Why on earth would I be mad at you?" "For getting myself into dangerous situations where you have to rescue me." Clark shrugged, grinning at the idea that Lois Lane, star reporter, might ever *stop* getting into dangerous situations. "If I was, would it stop you doing it again?" Her expression gave him his answer. "I thought not," he added dryly. "Lois, getting into danger seems to be part of who you are. And since I like you just as you are, I don't want to change you. Just... well, don't get reckless, will you? And if you get into trouble, call me!" "Oh yeah, like Superman has nothing better to do than rescue me!" "It's what I do," Clark pointed out. "And, Lois, you're my friend. I care about you. You think I wouldn't do anything to help you?" He was watching her, and at his words he saw her flush slightly before ducking her head. "I think I know that, Clark. And not just as Superman, either." She'd given him the opening he'd been looking for since that morning. "Lois, tell me about your family," he said, trying not to let his concern for her show. He was well aware that Lois hated even the suspicion that someone felt pity for her. Not that he pitied her. He cared, and he wanted to help. But he knew that Lois wouldn't see the difference. She was so proud, and prickly in her defence of those walls she'd built around herself. She wasn't going to let them down just because he asked. Of that he was very sure. But he was patient, and he wasn't going anywhere. ********* Goodnight, Clark," Lois said several hours later, watching him walk down the corridor towards the stairs before closing and bolting her door. Leaning against the closed door, she shut her eyes briefly, shaking her head as she wondered just what it was about Clark Kent that she seemed unable to resist. He'd actually persuaded her to talk about stuff she'd never told anyone before. Things she'd spent years trying to forget. Things she hadn't even admitted to herself. All he'd had to do was ask her, using that gentle, persuasive voice of his. "Tell me about your family, Lois," he'd said, those deep brown eyes focused on her, his expression concerned, offering the caring support of a friend. And she'd been lost, unable to resist the quiet persuasion, the unspoken plea in his eyes. Completely ignoring her first instinct, which had been to get the heck away from him, from the sort of question she *never* answered for anyone, the kind of question she'd sidestepped from him only the previous evening, she'd told him. Everything. Her father's affairs. Her mother's alcoholism. Her father never being around. Her mother drunk or out cold for much of the time. Lucy's tears. Having to clean up after her mother and take care of her baby sister. How they'd even run away one year, she and Lucy. It had been just after Christmas - yet another miserable Christmas when Sam Lane hadn't even come home the night before, when their mother had half-heartedly put up the Christmas decorations not long before midnight. When she and Lucy had woken up on Christmas morning, excited to see what Santa Claus had brought them - and found nothing. Downstairs, Lois - who had made five-year-old Lucy stay in her bedroom - had discovered their mother snoring on the sofa, yet another empty bottle of vodka clutched in her hand. Daddy had reappeared around lunchtime, holding a large sack of presents; paying no attention to Mommy, who by then was complaining about her migraine while haphazardly throwing a meal together, he'd fussed over his two little 'princesses'. But it was all fake, Lois had finally realised. If Daddy had really wanted to be with his little princesses, he wouldn't have stayed away all night. He wouldn't have let them wake up on Christmas morning without any presents. He wouldn't have done that to little Lucy. Daddy didn't really love them. That was the hard, cold realisation Lois had come to that Christmas. And Mommy didn't either, otherwise she wouldn't prefer a vodka bottle to her daughters. And so, once the holiday was over and she and Lucy were supposed to be going back to school, Lois had packed up as many of their things as she could fit in her backpack - including Lucy's favourite teddy - and she'd taken her sister by the hand and just started walking. The bus station; that had been her destination. She'd emptied her piggy-bank - that had been one advantage of her father's guilt, she remembered wryly now; he'd tried to make up for his absences by showering his daughters with dollar bills to buy themselves treats - and she'd been sure that she had enough money to get them tickets to go and stay with Aunt May, who lived in upstate New Troy. But, at the bus station, a counter clerk had become suspicious at two kids travelling alone, and had attracted the attention of a young beat cop patrolling nearby. That cop had taken the two of them home, having managed to get their address out of Lucy. He'd done them a favour, Lois recognised now. From the perspective of the nine-year-old she'd been at the time, she'd been furious. But when she thought of what could have happened to the two of them... it didn't bear thinking about. Which was one reason, although she would never in a million years admit it to him, that she had a soft spot deep inside her for Inspector William Henderson. Now hard-bitten and cynical, the homicide detective was a very different person from the barely- out-of-police-academy rookie who'd rescued Lucy and herself more than seventeen years ago. But he was still that rarity: a good, honest cop through and through. Not that he had any idea that the older of the two well-to-do runaways he'd returned to their home all those years ago was the reporter he complained about almost on a daily basis now - and she had no intention of ever telling him. It was, however, one reason why Henderson was usually her first call whenever she had a story the police would be interested in following up. Clark had listened to the sad tale, told in semi-clipped tones and with repeated insistences on Lois's part that she wasn't looking for sympathy and that she didn't even know why she was telling him all of it. She *hadn't* known - it was only that he'd asked. And that he was her friend. And that, somehow, she'd known instinctively that, whatever else his reaction would be, it certainly wouldn't be pity. He hadn't offered platitudes. He hadn't badmouthed her parents. Instead, when she'd finished, he'd just said quietly, sadly, "And through all of this, did anyone ever tell little Lois Lane that she was loved?" She'd bitten her lip. And he'd wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugged her briefly and then said, "I think we need chocolate here." And, before she could even think of a smart-ass reply, he'd vanished, to reappear seconds later bearing a slab of Swiss chocolate and a takeaway double-strength mocha from her favourite coffee joint. Yes, he knew her weaknesses well. What had impressed her most, though, had been the fact that he hadn't gone overboard on the sympathy. It was as if he'd known instinctively that she wouldn't appreciate it, that she was embarrassed enough by the fact that she'd confided all that stuff to him anyway - and that she'd come close to tears as she'd done so, despite her efforts to remain detached. If he'd tugged her into his arms and held her tightly, if he'd murmured platitudes to her, she might well have cried and clung to him. But afterwards she'd have felt humiliated. She would have wished that she'd never said a word to him about any of it. And she would have felt uncomfortable with Clark from then on. But, instead, his brief demonstration of sympathy followed by the tender gesture of fetching her coffee and chocolate had allowed her to put the painful, intimate confession behind her. Once he'd come back with his gifts, he hadn't referred to anything she'd said again. Instead, he'd turned the conversation to their story, due to appear in the morning's Planet, and to Lex Luthor. Lex Luthor. Now, that had been an eye-opener. She'd noticed that Clark had pulled a face when she'd mentioned that Luthor had been on hand as well and had been prepared to rescue her from the fighter. "What's your problem with Luthor, Clark?" she'd asked immediately. He'd taken a deep breath. "Where do I start, Lois?" "Cut to the chase," she'd said. "It's quicker, and you can fill me in on the details later. Just give me the big picture." "Big picture, huh?" He'd given her a wry grin. "Okay. I think he's a crook. In fact, my suspicion is that he's a major criminal, someone who controls a lot of the crime in this city, and also very possibly a murderer." "Whoa! Well, that's a big picture all right," she'd said slowly. "Lex Luthor? You're serious?" His expression had shown her that he was definitely serious. "You've never thought there was anything strange about him? Things that just didn't add up - or added up too coincidentally?" That had made her think. In fact, she was still thinking now as she prepared for bed. Not that Clark had said any more, or given her any indication of what he was basing his suspicions on - he hadn't had a chance, since he'd been called away by a cry for help not long after. By the time he'd returned it had been late; their conversation abandoned, he'd insisted on seeing her safely home. But he'd left her with plenty to think about. Lex Luthor - owner of several major companies in Metropolis, the biggest employer in the city, man of the year three years running, friend of Senators and Congressmen, even spoken of as a potential future President. And Clark thought that he was a murderer? That was big. Huge! And, if Clark was right, this was a story which would win them a Kerth. No, a Pulitzer. Win *them*? Lois stilled in the act of undressing as she realised just what she'd conceded. Her lifetime ambition, ever since deciding that she wanted to be a journalist, had been to get her name on a Pulitzer some day. And now she was actually contemplating - in fact, planning on - sharing that Pulitzer with someone else. No, not just 'someone else', she reminded herself. Clark. Her partner. Her friend. And a reporter who was equally as talented as herself. Yes, she liked the idea of sharing a Kerth, or even a Pulitzer, with Clark. Lois Lane had lost her competitive drive, at least where her partner was concerned. And she wasn't one bit sorry. *********** Lois had confided in him, after all. And, having heard the history of her childhood and her relationship with her parents - related in a detached tone which almost made it sound as if the events had happened to someone else - Clark could completely understand why the adult Lois had ended up so single-mindedly ambitious, so desperate to prove to the world that she was the best. She was still trying to prove to her father that she was a deserving person. Not that Lois would readily admit that, he knew. But he was very sure that she was, subconsciously or otherwise, still trying to win Sam Lane's approval. Clark shook his head disbelievingly as he landed on the balcony of his apartment. If Sam Lane didn't value his daughter just as she was, he deserved to be alienated from her. But it was so very sad, he thought; families should be close. Family members should love each other just because they were family - not as a punishment and incentive system. Lois had never known the kind of loving, stable environment he himself had grown up in. And, as a result, while she had family, she wasn't close to any of them. Her sister, perhaps - but Lucy Lane had moved away now. He wished that he could have known Lois years ago - in high school, maybe. If he could have been her friend then, maybe things would have been different for her. Maybe she would have begun to realise that she really was a special person. That she was deserving of love and attention. That her parents' neglect was their shame, not hers; that she had so much to be proud of in who she was. Okay, she'd done her best to suggest that her school years, especially high school, hadn't been too bad; but then, he hadn't forgotten what she'd said to him earlier that day, about her father's expectations of her and in particular his lack of praise. Telling her, a child desperate for her father's approval, that she still had two percent left for improvement if she got 98 on a test...! His blood had boiled when he'd heard it. It wasn't fair that she had missed out so badly; that she had no idea what a loving family environment could be like. But then, Clark thought as he prepared for bed, it didn't have to be that way. She had him now. They were friends. And his parents loved her - she'd saved their lives, after all. Sometime soon, he'd have to bring her to Smallville for a few days. He'd enjoy that, and so, he was sure, would she. They still had to finish their discussion about Lex Luthor, but that could wait; there was no immediate hurry which meant that they'd needed to do it tonight. After all, it wasn't as if any other news team was rushing to investigate the city's wealthiest man. As far as Clark was aware, he was the only person outside Luthor's own empire to have any suspicions at all about the man's bona fides. Tomorrow, he thought. He'd already suggested to Lois that they have breakfast together before going into work. He was looking forward to that already; he loved bouncing ideas and hunches off his intelligent, quick-thinking partner. They'd talk, and he'd tell her everything he suspected about Luthor. He was looking forward to getting stuck into this investigation with his partner. They made a great team, in every possible way. Well, almost every possible way, he acknowledged regretfully, remembering how much he'd wanted to do more than just hug her gently when she'd told him about her childhood. Of course, he'd known that she wouldn't appreciate profuse sympathy or any attempt to dwell on what she'd said. But he'd longed to hold her in his arms and tell her that, if he had anything to do with it, she would never feel unloved or unwanted ever again. He'd wanted to hug her tightly and never let her go. He'd wanted to cover her lips with his and banish all the bleak memories, all her insecurities, with his kiss. But that wasn't going to happen, and he knew it. He and Lois were friends, and that was the way it was going to stay. It was safer that way. So he was just going to have to keep reminding himself of that. Friends. That was all he could have with her - and so it would be all he wanted from her. He could live with that; of course he could. She meant far too much to him to take risks with her safety or well-being. Friendship was enough; of course it was. And it felt good to know that she trusted him enough to confide in him about something which was clearly such a painful matter for her. Lois Lane, he knew, was an intensely private person - and yet she'd opened up to him. It reassured him that their friendship really was a two-way street, given all that he owed her and how much it mattered to him that Lois knew his secret and helped and supported him daily in maintaining it. She needed him every bit as much as he needed her. And that, for the alien from a planet millions of miles away, who had despaired for most of his adult life of ever having someone special in his life, someone other than his parents to whom he was important, meant the world to him. ********* To her surprise, even the following morning Lois had no regrets about confiding in Clark. No paralysing fear that he would somehow use the information against her; no fierce wish that she had never allowed any man an insight into what Lois Lane the person was really like under her public facade. No concern that Clark would despise the weak, insecure person she was in private. Clark seemed to like her just as she was. And that was something which she couldn't remember ever having happened before. She was hurrying to get ready now. Clark had said, on their way back to her apartment the previous evening, that he'd like to take her to breakfast so they could discuss the Luthor question. She'd been a bit concerned about having that conversation in public, but Clark had assured her that he knew a very discreet place where they could discuss anything they liked without worrying about being overheard. "And don't forget," he'd reminded her with a grin, tapping his ear, "I'm pretty good at figuring out when someone's taking an interest in me." "True," she'd agreed, giggling. "Yet another advantage in having you as a partner!" Now, she was itching to hear just what it was Clark thought he knew about Luthor. It had almost killed her that they hadn't been able to finish their conversation the previous evening. It couldn't be helped, she knew that; but still, her primary emotion when Clark had rushed off had been acute frustration. Well, that and a pang of disappointment that she was losing his company on what had become a familiar habit: spending the evening together. It was going to be like that. She knew it, she understood it and she accepted it. Clark wasn't just her partner and her friend, at her beck and call whenever she needed him. He was Superman. He had a responsibility towards the world. If someone needed him - someone other than her - he had to go. If it meant saving lives, or preventing serious injury or mass destruction, he had to go. And he would go - because that was the kind of person he was. And she wouldn't want him any other way, anyway, regardless of how frustrating it could be, and was going to be. So... Clark believed that Luthor was a criminal - a crime lord, by the sound of it - and quite possibly a murderer. As she dried her hair, Lois mulled over what she knew of Lex Luthor, billionaire businessman and known philanthropist. She'd compiled a mental list the previous evening, of the sort of information she would consider if she were writing a profile of Luthor - since she was interviewing him next week, she already had some of it to hand anyway. Owned several companies, and all told was the city's largest employer. Generally a good employer to work for, from what she'd heard; the various companies owned or controlled by Luthor had the reputation of paying employees well and offering good benefits. The culture in the various companies was also, she believed, good; while, as in all companies, workloads got frenetic at times, the management style wasn't oppressive and initiative and innovation were rewarded. That didn't sound like the employment practices of a crime lord... On the other hand, these were legitimate businesses. They also made a lot of money, and gave Lex Luthor personally a considerable amount of prestige and status within New Troy - and, Lois was aware, in the wider US. For some months now, she'd been hearing rumours that both national political parties were courting the billionaire, who had yet to declare any political allegiance. He'd donated money - large sums, too - to both Republicans and Democrats over the years, never favouring one party over the other. He'd be an enormous feather in the cap of whichever party managed to net him, assuming one of them did - and the rumour which had reached Lois's ears was that there were efforts to persuade Luthor to stand for one of the state's Senate seats which would become vacant at the next mid-terms. He could have either party's endorsement, and thus the support of the entire party machine, for the asking - and Luthor's prestige was such that he would be guaranteed election. Did he harbour political ambitions? Lois didn't know, and nor did any of her sources. Regardless, it would be an unusual person - and an even more unusual public figure - who wasn't at least flattered by such approaches. So it was certainly in Lex Luthor's interests to have business interests which were entirely legal and above board - and to be known as a good, responsible and well-liked employer. Apart from the prestige and income, these also provided him with the kind of respectability he wouldn't have if his only activity was crime. He'd be a shadowy underworld figure, in that case. Instead, if Clark was right, he was Metropolis's Godfather, running legitimate businesses in public and involved in all sorts of illegal activities in the background. Was that really likely? She paused in the act of slipping on her shoes, wondering for a moment if she wasn't getting too carried away with her speculation and extrapolation. What if Lex Luthor really was all that he appeared to be - a perfectly legitimate businessman? Okay, Clark had suspicions, and it was certainly easy to think of ways in which Luthor's public reputation could shield an awful lot of unknowns, but there were plenty of other rich, influential people in American business about whom she could speculate in just the same way and on the same grounds as she'd just used to speculate about Luthor. Would she really suspect, say, Bill Gates or Michael Eisner or Warren Buffet of engaging in illegal activities behind their public facades? And it wasn't even as if what they were talking about were the typical white-collar crimes of insider trading or securities fraud, of which some quite unexpected people had been found guilty: Ivan Boesky and Michael Milken, for example. No, Clark had mentioned murder. How likely was that, really? Well, who knew? Who really knew what anyone might get up to behind the public gaze? There'd been that cleaning company back in the eighties... what was its name again? Oh yeah, she remembered. The ZZZZ Best Carpet Cleaning Company. Its owner, Barry Minkow, had been defrauding investors by coming up with a huge paper trail of false customers and misleading auditors by renting buildings and showing them to clients he had business with. He'd made millions as investors poured money into his fraudulent business. He'd only been found out when he'd tried to take his non-existent business public. There was Jim Bakker, too - for years he'd been a successful evangelist, highly respected, even loved, by his followers. And, in his role as an ordained preacher, he was beyond suspicion... until he was found out as a swindler who had also bribed a prostitute to keep quiet about their sexual relationship. Other revelations had followed, including a gay lover and tax evasion. Yeah, there was no such thing as being beyond suspicion where any public figure was concerned, Lois mused. And even Al Capone had appeared to run legitimate businesses for years, although in his case, Lois conceded, the police had had their suspicions about him - the problem there had been in proving anything. Did the Metropolis Police Department have suspicions about Lex Luthor? It wasn't unusual, in the history of crime and criminal activity, to find the most unlikely of people behind gangland or unlawful behaviour. And in any case legitimate businesses were the perfect accessory for a crime boss - the perfect outlet for dirty money and ill-gotten gains. Lois knew all that. So there was no particular reason why she should regard Lex Luthor as incorruptible or beyond suspicion. Clark had asked her if she'd ever had her doubts; ever noticed anything which didn't quite add up. She hadn't - at least, not until he'd asked her. But a couple of things had been nagging at her ever since. Space Station Luthor was one of them. At the time, she'd been too caught up in, first, trying to land the first exclusive Lex Luthor interview, and later, chasing Superman around Metropolis. Just why had Luthor decided to enter the space race? There were clear gains for his companies from having a private space station, of course - patents from any pharmaceutical or medical discoveries, for example - but the cost and the risk of such a venture would clearly outweigh by far any potential profit, even in the medium term. But that wasn't all; she'd had a tip-off at the time that Luthor was involved with Antoinette Baines. She'd dismissed it as a coincidence; Luthor was a powerful - and attractive - man, and Baines was an attractive woman. Why shouldn't the two of them be involved? But now... well, it really did look like *too* much of a coincidence. And when the plot to sabotage the shuttle ships had been discovered, Baines had mysteriously - and very conveniently - been murdered. Well, her helicopter had blown up, and so far the police hadn't managed to prove conclusively that it was sabotage... but again, it was too coincidental. Way too coincidental, maybe? Luthor was also a philanthropist, on a pretty grand scale; only last year he'd donated close to fifty million dollars - from his personal fortune, not out of company profits - to a health charity for a water purification project in Africa. And there was the homeless shelter he'd funded the year before. Yes, he spent lots of money on good causes. But that, too, was a great way to build good public relations and to create and maintain a good reputation - as well as, to some extent, making the city and even the state dependent on him and his charitable giving. Who would dare to criticise a man as generous as Lex Luthor? Yes, it was easy to see how his reputation had remained intact for so long if he really was rotten underneath, as Clark believed. And if Clark was right... yes, this would be one heck of a story. The lawyers would hate it - it would all have to be gone through with a fine-tooth comb before it could even get within sniffing distance of the printers' ink, but she could live with that. They'd just have to make sure that they had as much proof as possible - and if that meant even bringing in the police once they'd got to the stage of having something convincing, she could live with that too, and it would make the lawyers happier. And that would make Perry happier still. Oh yes, she could definitely smell a Kerth in this, if not even better. And wasn't it good timing that she had that interview coming up? That thought reminded her that she hadn't yet told Clark about that. She frowned, trying to work out why that was. They worked together; she should have mentioned it. But then, they didn't work together on everything - although Perry had paired them for a couple of major stories, they weren't full-time partners, and this, if she got anything usable out of the interview, was her story. But the thought of holding out on Clark felt... wrong. Of course it was wrong now, she told herself. He'd raised the question of Luthor's probity, clearly intending that the two of them should investigate once he'd filled her in on exactly why he was suspicious. Therefore she needed to tell him about the interview. Well, she would tell him. She was sure that he'd agree that it was highly opportune timing. They had enough time to do a lot of digging before her interview, and by then she could well have enough evidence to ask Luthor some very pointed questions. Always assuming that Clark was right in his suspicions - and she found it hard to believe that Clark - Superman! - would accuse someone without being very sure of his ground. With an anticipatory grin, Lois collected her bag and coat and headed for the door. ********** Clark leaned casually against Lois's Jeep, waiting for his partner to emerge. She'd offered to come and pick him up, but he'd reminded her with a grin that he could be at her place in less than the time it would take her to unlock her car. He'd been there for about five minutes, enjoying the fine autumn morning. It was sunny, with a light breeze which rippled through the rusty-gold foliage on the nearby trees. Soon, the weather would turn cold as winter approached; already, rain was much more likely than the sunshine of today, and by November he expected that they'd begin to see snow. This would be his first winter in the city, and already he was noticing major differences in the seasons between Metropolis and rural Kansas. He straightened as the door to the building opened and Lois emerged, her hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. He watched her admiringly; she really was beautiful, he thought. Totally focused this morning on the day ahead, she clearly hadn't noticed him yet, but even with a businesslike expression on her face she was breathtaking - to say nothing about her slender but shapely body, he mused. His partner was quite simply the most incredible woman he'd ever met. He'd been impressed by her intelligence and journalistic ability even before they'd actually met, but that had been nothing to what he'd been learning about her ever since. Her incredible intuition. Her leaps of logic which seemed almost insane, but which frequently turned out to be correct. Her drive and determination - she was a human dynamo. Even he, the strongest man in the world, occasionally found it difficult to match her endurance. As for her courage - she was absolutely the bravest person he knew. He'd never forget the way she'd taken on Trask and his men single-handed to save his life and that of his parents. Okay, she'd gone to the warehouse in the first place expecting to find his body, but she'd still known, or expected, that Trask and his thugs would be there. She'd gone regardless. And once she'd realised that he was alive, it hadn't occurred to her to get out of there and call for help. No; courageously, or even possibly foolhardily, she'd fought for him and for his parents. Even mentally and physically weak as he'd been, he'd been so terrified for her, convinced that he would see her killed in front of him just as Trask had threatened to have his mom and dad killed in front of him. Just as he'd been forced to watch his parents being beaten and abused. He still wasn't sure just how Lois had managed to get them out of there; whether it had been pure fluke, combined with the small amount of help he'd managed in the end to give her, or whether, with her indomitable courage and determination, Lois Lane had always been going to win. She was just amazing. She saw him then, and a bright smile curved across her features, lighting up her face completely, transforming her from an attractive woman to a stunningly beautiful woman. Clark had imagined himself in love once before - but his feelings for Lana paled into insignificance next to what he was feeling now as he watched Lois walk towards him. He was in love, head over heels, with his partner and best friend. And he had been right from the moment he'd first seen her. He'd just been pretending to himself that his feelings were only friendship and admiration. He loved Lois Lane. But his admission of his feelings for her, he told himself firmly, didn't mean that anything had to change between them. He knew what he had to do. He knew the risks of getting too close to anyone - and especially of being physically affectionate. And he would never put Lois at risk - he cared about her too much for that. She was his friend, and it was much, much safer for her if she stayed his friend. After all, he already worried about her far more than was good for him. Lois went into risky situations with about the same frequency as other women went shopping. And she did it almost as casually. As she'd reminded him only the previous evening, he'd already saved her life five or six times since they'd met. He'd carry on doing it, of course... but there only had to be one time when he couldn't do it, and then it'd be too late. She'd be dead. There were times - like the previous evening, when he'd rescued her from Mencken - when he longed to be able to scoop her up and carry her away somewhere safe from any danger. He could take her to a deserted tropical island... though, knowing Lois, she'd probably stumble over some breed of man-eating spider or go swimming in piranha-infested waters. No; he couldn't stop Lois doing the job that she loved. But that didn't mean that his heart-rate was going to stop going into overdrive any time soon over her safety. "Hey, big guy." She'd reached his side, and she reached out and thumped his bicep lightly, affectionately. "You look worried - is something wrong?" Schooling his features quickly - Lois would not appreciate knowing that she aroused all his protective instincts - Clark smiled at her. "Nah - I was just thinking. Dangerous, I know!" He gestured towards the car. "You want to drive or..." Winking, he added in a soft murmur, "...fly?" She grinned. "Why? We going far?" He shook his head. "Not really. The place I have in mind isn't far from my apartment." She dangled her keys in front of him. "Want to drive, then?" "What, I get to drive your precious Cherokee?" he teased, taking them from her. "That's a *Grand* Cherokee, for your information," she pointed out in mock admonition, moving around to the passenger side. "And since you're the only person I trust to drive me - well, other than Metropolis cabbies, and that's only out of necessity - I figure I might as well take advantage once in a while." Clark grinned, getting into the car and starting the engine. Lois was in very good spirits this morning, he noticed; it was quite a change from the sad, unhappy woman he'd listened to the previous evening. He had a strong suspicion that introducing the subject of Lex Luthor had been exactly the right thing to do at that moment. Lois was now in her 'on track of a great story' mood, and nothing distracted her from that. A few minutes later, he led the way into his favourite breakfast haunt. The cafe was a couple of blocks from his apartment, and he tended to go there a couple of times a week. The pancakes weren't quite as good as his Mom made, but they were still very tasty, and he liked the atmosphere. As he'd told Lois, it was an ideal place to have a confidential discussion without worrying about being overheard, but that didn't mean that it was one of those city restaurants where nobody ever met anybody else's eye, preferring to pretend that they were alone even in the midst of a packed diner. The regulars, and the owner, were friendly, but they knew how to tell when someone didn't want to talk. "Hey, Clark! Should I put the pancakes on?" Clark looked towards the source of the voice and smiled. "Hey, Gio! Yup, sure, for me - but I don't know what my friend wants yet, so maybe you should hold off a couple of minutes." Gio, a fortysomething Italian who had run the cafe for about fifteen years as far as Clark knew, gave him an exaggerated wink. "Nice friend you got there, pal. Good-looking. You sure she's just a friend?" "Unfortunately so," Clark said, giving Gio an exaggerated look of regret, then winking at Lois. "We work together. I lost a bet and the forfeit was that I get to buy her breakfast," he added, stifling a slight qualm at the lie. He felt that it was a good idea to have a cover story as to why he was there with his reporter partner, just in case anyone recognised Lois Lane, star reporter, and wondered what she was doing in an out-of-the-way diner. Lois obviously picked up his cue; rolling her eyes, she drawled, "Yeah, and don't think I intend to stick to coffee and a low-fat muffin, either, Kent! Pancakes sound terrific," she added, turning to Gio. "Sure - regular or low-fat? And you can have butter, cream, maple, strawberry, blueberry, chocolate or toffee topping." Clark was amused to see Lois practically drooling at the list of options. "Chocolate," she said after a moment's pause. "And - oh, what the heck. Regular pancakes. I can just do an extra work-out session this week." "You got it. Coffee'll be right over." "Good choice, partner," Clark told Lois as he ushered her to a booth near the back of the cafe. "I like maple syrup with pancakes, but Gio uses Gianduja - that's a chocolate and hazelnut spread to die for. He orders it straight from Italy." After their breakfast had been served, and Lois had exclaimed in ecstasy over the topping - she waited until she'd eaten one entire pancake before saying anything other than "Mmm... this is *delicious*!" - she turned businesslike. "Okay, Clark, so spill. What have you got on Luthor?" "Don't get your hopes up," he cautioned. "It's mostly circumstantial stuff, plus suspicions and other things I can't put my finger on." "Instinct?" Lois asked. "Yeah, that's about it." "I know how that feels. Lots of my big stories came out of a nagging feeling that something wasn't exactly right," she told him. "Plus I trust your instincts - and I take it that we're also going here on Superman's instincts?" she added softly. Clark inclined his head, and saw her nod in acknowledgement of his response. This was starting off more promising than he'd hoped. He'd raised the subject of Lex Luthor the previous evening partly to take her mind off the obviously painful subject of her childhood and her relationship with her father, but also because he'd known that he couldn't delay any longer. Not after the way he'd reacted when he'd seen Luthor on his way to rescue Lois. His blood had boiled when he'd noticed that the tycoon was about to save the day, and he'd put on an extra burst of speed to ensure that *he* got there first. He'd told himself that he didn't want to be indebted to Luthor for Lois's life, but deep down he'd known that wasn't the whole truth. He was jealous of what he was sure was Luthor's sexual interest in Lois. And, because he had no idea how Lois felt about Luthor, he wanted to get in first, to ensure that she wouldn't even consider the man as a possible romantic interest. That was the real purpose of this conversation, regardless of the fact that he wanted Luthor brought to justice: he was making a pre-emptive strike, attacking Luthor before the man could make a move on Lois. Before the interview she had planned for next week - about which she still hadn't told him. And that had worried him. Lois was listening, which was a very good sign. She couldn't have been interested in the man beyond seeing him as a story. He felt relief flood him. "Okay, so start at the beginning. Then we'll see what we've got." Lois took a sip of coffee. "I've been thinking this through myself since last night, so I might have something to add to your suspicions." "Okay. Well, it all started when we were investigating the Messenger disaster. Remember when Antoinette Baines tried to kill us at EPRAD?" Lois nodded. "You think I'd forget being chained up and left to die?" She rolled her eyes. But before he could continue, an arrested look came over her features. "You!" she exclaimed, but he noticed that she took care to keep her voice low. "Uh... yeah?" "You let me confess all that stuff... You could have had us out of there in seconds, couldn't you?" "Well, yeah," he admitted. "But I wanted to find a way to explain it, and... well, anyway, you started talking and... okay, Lois, I was curious. I wanted to know what made you tick. I wanted to find out what was underneath the tough exterior you showed the world. But there was no way I would have risked your life." "Oh, I know that!" she said, dismissing his final comment. "But you still... oh, I'll get you for that, Kent!" "Hey." He reached across the table to touch her hand lightly. "I'll apologise for it, if you like. But you know I've never told another soul a single word you said that night, and I never will." "I know that. Okay, you're forgiven. This time." She threw him a quick wink and a smile. "Anyway, so you were saying...?" "Baines said something. You asked her why she'd done it - remember? And she said that it was all about profit - that outer space was no different from any new frontier. It'd belong to those who got there first and..." He paused, then waggled his fingers to show that he was quoting. "...'seize the high ground'." "Yes?" She clearly hadn't made the connection. Lois reached across to steal a section of pancake from his plate, having cleared her own. Clark grinned, pretending to swipe at her hand. "I can order more if you like," he pointed out. "You're kidding! Clark, as it is I'm going to have to book at least two extra sessions at the gym this week!" "Well, just remember that I offered, next time you try to eat from my plate," he said, giving her a teasing grin. He loved seeing her enjoying her breakfast so much; so many other women he'd known simply picked at their food and complained about their figures. Lois, of course, had nothing to worry about, as far as he could see... and he definitely enjoyed looking at his partner's slim but curvy body. Yes, he could happily spend the rest of his life looking at Lois. Sure, there was no way that he could ever have any kind of romantic relationship with her, but that didn't mean he couldn't look. "Anyway," he continued, "remember the White Orchid Ball? When Luthor found us snooping around his penthouse?" Lois nodded. "He threatened you with that sword." "He meant it as a threat, I think. I chose to pretend that he was just showing me an interesting artifact. Anyway, I don't think Luthor expected to find an ordinary reporter - especially someone he'd never heard of - who had a classical education. Well, I'm pretty much self-taught," Clark added. "But I know enough to go head-to-head with Luthor on mythology and ancient history any time." "So...?" Lois waved her hand, the message clear: get to the point. "Luthor studies military tacticians, especially classical ones. He quoted Alexander the Great to us - that's whose sword he had. 'Alexander's strategy was simple: always control the high ground'." "Similar phrase," Lois agreed, stabbing another piece of his pancake with her fork. "But could it be a coincidence?" He rolled his eyes at her, simultaneously loving it that she felt so at ease with him that she would treat his breakfast as her own. "I don't think so. It was the context as much as the words; I couldn't help but think that it sounded like she was quoting someone." "Well, I did hear a rumour that she and Luthor were having an affair," Lois observed. "Really?" Clark sat back, interested, and at the same time pushed his plate, with the remains of his last pancake, towards her. "That explains where she could have heard the phrase." This was going even better than he'd hoped. Lois was with him all the way, clearly having no difficulty at all with the idea that Luthor could be the master criminal Clark believed him to be. The fact that she hadn't told him about the interview still rankled, though, and he was trying hard to convince himself that there was an innocent explanation for it - or that she simply hadn't got round to mentioning it, but fully intended to. "I was thinking about the Messenger and Baines earlier," Lois said, barely skipping a beat as she devoured the rest of Clark's breakfast as if by right. "Why should Luthor want to get into the space race? And why was he so confident that the Congress of Nations would cancel funding for Space Station Prometheus? I mean, he had to have put weeks of research and money into Space Station Luthor - " "I'd say years, actually," Clark interrupted. "That level of design and research? You don't get that in weeks or even months." "Even more suspicious, then," Lois agreed. "And the Messenger disaster was only a couple of days before the ball. He had to have had some sort of inside track." "Baines," Clark supplied. "Impossible to prove, with Baines dead," Lois added, pulling a face. She dropped her napkin on the now-empty plate in front of her, then sat back with a satisfied sigh. "So what else?" ********** Lois sipped her coffee, looking to any observer as if she was simply relaxing over a leisurely breakfast before tackling the workday ahead. But she was listening intently to her partner. He'd told her the truth: there was nothing concrete in any of what he knew or suspected, but it was enough to convince her that there really was something to go on. If they were right, and Luthor and Baines had been working together, then Luthor was probably ultimately responsible for the Messenger's destruction, and the deaths of its crew. And also Dr Platt - and, most likely, Baines herself. Yes, that would make Lex Luthor a murderer, all right. Then there were the tests Clark had mentioned. She remembered those attempted suicides - and the bomb at the museum. She'd been there, after all, and had got injured herself because she'd been so anxious to track Superman down. And Lex Luthor had orchestrated it all because he wanted to gauge Superman's abilities. It was a shock to realise that Clark had almost given up Superman because of it. When he'd told her that it was only her words to him, words she'd said almost absently in a minor fit of irritation at Clark's apparently over-emotional reaction to a drive-by shooting, which had persuaded him to keep going, she'd been astounded. And very, very thankful that she'd said it. Clark was right: she had saved Superman more times than she knew. It was funny; even though over the last few weeks she'd known his secret and had conspired with him to protect it, it was just dawning on her now that she was really in a unique, very privileged position. Clark depended on her. *Superman* depended on her. He needed her almost as much as she needed him. And that felt really good. "So," she said at last. "We think he was behind the Messenger sabotage and associated murders. And we know he tried to intimidate Superman into leaving Metropolis. Anything else?" "Well, I did find myself wondering just what he was doing there yesterday, Lois," Clark commented. "Yesterday? Oh, you mean when he came to help me." "Yes. What does he have to do with robotic prize-fighters? I can't quite see him as a boxing fan, anyway - it's not cerebral enough for him," Clark observed sardonically. "Someone was funding the work," Lois said quietly. "My father doesn't know who it was - he reported to Mencken and had no idea who was really calling the tune. But it might be worth looking into." "Sure," Clark agreed. "I might be able to find something we missed -" He waggled his glasses slightly. "I mean, when we were there before, we weren't really sure what we were looking for." "Okay." She took another sip of her coffee. "I can talk to my dad too. See if he remembers anything else that might help. When do you want to check out his lab?" "Maybe tonight," he suggested. Lois understood his meaning: it depended on whether anything urgent came up for Superman. She drained her coffee, then got to her feet. "Come on, partner." Patting his arm, she added, "We'd better get to work." "Sure." Clark went to the till and paid while she collected her things, then they went together out to the Jeep, his hand lightly in the small of her back as they walked. It was just a gentlemanly gesture, sh