Lois Lane's Diary II: And They Lived... By Nicole Sullivan Rated: PG Submitted: June, 2005 Dear Diary, Lucy asked me today if I'd written in my journal recently, and I realized I hadn't!! I was so good about writing back when my life was a complete mess and right up to when it became perfect!! But then that was it!! Considering how much writing helped me, how much this DIARY (let's just be honest, shall we?) helped me, I owe it more than just leaving it hanging. I'll bet it's wondering where I have been for the past seven weeks! Well... It's been seven glorious weeks!! Clark and I are now, as one might call this, an official 'item'. It's been absolutely wonderful! We spend our days working, chasing stories together, working late together, going to either his place or mine for dinner (also together). We kiss in the elevator, we kiss in the car on stakeouts (we do work, not to worry... we keep the kissing short... well, we try to), we kiss at our apartments and at the door to my apartment when he "sees me home". If I didn't make this clear before, Clark Kent is an amazing kisser. This should not be too shocking; the man is amazing all- around anyway. He is an amazing person; no one like HIM exists in this world, I am sure of that. He's just... good... inside. He has a good heart and spirit. He is amazing-looking, and I am pretty sure that for the first two years of our partnership and friendship, I had blinders on. I always knew he was good- looking, of course. It's undeniable. To anyone that would see him, even if they didn't KNOW him (which adds a great deal to the attraction, knowing him) they would see a handsome and sexy man, with a mild manner and a quiet appeal. That's all very obvious. I always knew I was attracted to him. But I never saw then that he really was the sexiest man I had ever met. The most handsome. The most amazing looking. That combination would be extremely dangerous in the hands of, oh I don't know, Claude or Lex. But with Clark... It's like he doesn't even know. His unawareness of the very fact that he is drop dead gorgeous may actually be his most priceless, endearing and sexy quality. And when he's not wearing a shirt... not that I've seen this all too many times... I mean there was that time when we first met and he answered the door in a towel. More recently, there was the one time I snuck into his apartment to make him dinner (I know, I know, love has started to affect my sense of reality) and happened to see him after a shower with just his sweatpants on. It makes me blush, just thinking about it! And the time a couple of weeks ago where we did a story at the local YMCA and had to pretend to just be normal people going swimming... I mean, if I were him, I'd be going shirtless to work, he's just so... What was I saying? Sorry... I am sort of going off on a tangent here. But Clark... This has been the most amazing seven weeks of my life. I cherish every day we have together. With him, I'm not afraid. I am not afraid of trusting him or sharing things with him or opening my heart to him. I let him in because he's Clark. He's my best friend and he's honest and good and I just know he wouldn't hurt me. It's sort of scary trusting someone this much. But the funny thing is, it is not scary at all! Look at this email he sent me Friday afternoon at work!! I will paste it here! - - - - - - TO: Lane, Lois < llane@dailyplanet.com > FROM: Kent, Clark < ckent@dailyplanet.com > RECEIVED: Friday, May 10, 2:09 PM I forgot to tell you at lunch (seeing as how when I'm around you, I can't stop looking at you and lose all train of thought) that this morning I did all the paperwork for the Miston case. I wanted to save you the trouble. Why, you ask? Because I love you. More than anything. Love, Clark - - - - - - See how adorable that was? He has the ingenious ability to mix work-related matters with lovey-dovey-ness and get away with it! I cannot pull this off. My emails to him are either work- related—Exhibit A: - - - - - - TO: Kent, Clark < ckent@dailyplanet.com > FROM: Lane, Lois < llane@dailyplanet.com > SENT: Thursday, May 9, 9:07 AM The workday technically starts at 9 AM, Clark! Where are you? I've been here since 8:30! I know we aren't exactly in the middle of a story here, but when one comes our way and you're running around returning your library books, I am NOT sharing the byline! Lois - - - - - - (No one said they were nice emails) Or relationship-oriented—Exhibit B: - - - - - - TO: Kent, Clark < ckent@dailyplanet.com > FROM: Lane, Lois < llane@dailyplanet.com > SENT: Monday, May 6, 6:01 PM I know you are just sitting ten feet away from me, but I have to tell you. You look good! I am actually not getting much work done. You just... you look good, Kent! I'm starving. Let's have dinner together. My place or yours? Love, Lois - - - - - - I can't combine the two types of emails the way he can. He's just talented that way. And that second email? Yeah, I wasn't really starving (I mean I was a little hungry, but my stomach hadn't started growling or anything yet). I just wanted to... well... to hang out with him. To talk to him. Okay, okay! I wanted to kiss him! Make out with him! Is that such a crime, he IS my boyfriend! Hm, last time I wrote in this, was I this aggressive? I really do take this diary thing to the next level. Maybe I need more friends. I'll write more soon! Life is WONDERFUL! (Wonderful like that time I was affected by that pheromone. But this time... It's natural and real and I am actually just in LOVE!) Dear Diary, It's Wednesday and I am freaking out. When I last wrote, it was Sunday. Sundays are pretty good days for me. Well, I mean, it was a Sunday when Clark came back from that "vacation" almost two months ago and we got the truth out in the open and actually started our relationship. So, Sunday was a good day for me that time. And since then, my Sundays have been spent with Clark, and we always have fun, so Sundays have been pretty good lately... What am I saying? Clark is right. I really can ramble and babble about any topic under the sun! And apparently, not just when I'm talking! So today is Wednesday. Not Sunday. Moving on. Even though I am blissfully happy lately, Wednesdays are still, well, Wednesdays. The middle of the week. The weekend's a few days off. The workload is at its peak. And when there's not a juicy story to write, when I say the workload is at its peak, I mean there is a LOT of paperwork and even filing to do. FILING! And if you have someone else do the filing, who knows where it'll end up, and then when someone is trying to sue you for something, you won't know where to look to get your backup. So Wednesdays... I don't love them all that much. When I get bad news or something, it's usually on a Wednesday. When Clark and I had that explosive talk in the conference room? Yeah, a Wednesday. If it's not clear where I am going with this little spiel about this particular day in the calendar week, I will just illustrate my point with an excerpt from my day. I was just sitting at my desk writing up a little story Perry put me on for the day. He needs to stick us to SOMETHING while the news is slow. He has a gut feeling that very soon a big story will break out. He says when it rains, it pours, and since news has been SO quiet for SO long, we are due for a torrential downpour really soon. So, anyway, I'm writing this thing he has me on for today. A fluff piece. I hate those. When I noticed Clark sauntering over to my desk, I welcomed the distraction. "Hey, partner," he said sweetly, smiling. Have I mentioned he has a killer smile? "Make it quick, Kent, I'm on a deadline here," I said, looking back at my computer screen with a studious expression on my face. I like to play hard to get with Clark. I used to pick little silly fights with him before we got together, which I eventually realized was my way of flirting with him. Now, I give him a hard time, which is my way of playing hard to get. Wait a second... if he's already got me, then what is it I'm doing? I guess I'm just giving the guy a hard time for the heck of it. Poor Clark. Anyway... "Please, Lois. You are writing a story about the school system on the south side of Metropolis. I saw your little sigh of relief when I walked over here," he said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against my desk. I love when he stands like this. It's very sexy, but it does make concentrating on work a little difficult. And it makes me want to jump out of my desk chair and fling my arms around him. When he stands around with his hands in his pockets, I also feel this way. Hm... "Okay, you got me, I would pay attention to Ralph right about now." At his expression, I added, "but I'd much rather pay attention to you. So what's up?" He smiled appreciatively and playfully. "Well, I wanted to talk to you about this weekend." "This weekend?" "Yeah," he said. I noticed he seemed a little nervous. "What's this weekend?" I asked. I honestly had no idea. "Well, for one thing, it's our two month anniversary..." There, right there! I thought, "Shoot me please, now!" I luckily received a phone call right then and he had to go back to his desk. "He did NOT say two month anniversary, did he?" I thought frantically. If you, Diary (since I apparently am going crazy and am talking to you like you are a person... I do need more friends), think I am freaking out or clearly have commitment issues, let me explain a little something about two month marks and my life. When I knew Paul (college Paul that Linda (my then-so-called best friend) stole) for two months, I worked up the courage to ask him out. He said no and proceeded to do jumping jacks on my heart, while doing, um, other stuff with Linda. When I knew Claude for two months we... well... we slept together. And then he left me. And he stole my story. Don't think that needs more elaboration. When I dated Lex for two months exclusively... And this was pretty much two months to the DAY... he proposed. And I accepted. And that one went down in the books as a new-age Greek tragedy. Without the gouging out of the eyes, of course... although had that incident actually turned out differently... Hm. And here's a clinker... When I was two months old, I got a cold that apparently almost killed me. But I recovered. Obviously... About a year ago (post-wedding fiasco), when I was bored at work one day (on a Wednesday, actually) I made this little connection that I have so eloquently laid out here. I call it the Two-Month Syndrome. Clearly bad things, BIG things sometimes, happen to me at the two-month mark. And Clark, bringing up the weekend on a Wednesday (usually we just play the weekends by ear) means that he most likely wants to do something special or big. Something we have to plan for. This could only mean one thing: disaster. I love Clark. I don't want to lose him merely because I can't get over that two-month hump. I feel like I was caught unawares and so my balance has been thrown off, but really what happened was I just forgot! Everything has been going so nicely that I just forgot that it's been almost a full two months since we kissed in the park, starting THIS. This wonderful thing we have. Why why WHY does it have to be the WEDNESDAY before my TWO MONTH anniversary?!?! Do I seem volatile?... Or paranoid? I'll write more later. Dear Diary, So Clark noticed that when he mentioned our two-month anniversary I went, apparently, pale. Ghost-white. "I thought you were seeing Elvis in Perry's office or something," he said. So I did not do the great job I thought I did, between his uttering those three words and my phone ringing, of hiding my complete anguish. He has no idea. He doesn't know how much I now dread two month marks. Why should he? I haven't shared the Two Month Syndrome with him (wow, that sounds like some kind of fatal illness, actually), so how would he know? So after I got off the phone yesterday and wrote in this, he came over to my desk again, wanting to know if anything was wrong. "Why would anything be wrong? What could possibly be wrong?" I asked, doe-eyed. Unfortunately, the innocent act doesn't usually work with Clark. "Lo-is. Just tell me. I mentioned the weekend and you looked like I'd just asked you if you'd be willing to donate an organ to my neighbor's cat." Then he mentioned that thing about Elvis, which made me laugh. "Clark, it's nothing, really. I... I..." He looked at me expectantly, but patiently. I took a deep breath. This was Clark. Not Paul. Not Claude. Not Lex. Why should I worry about a measly little Two Month Syndrome that probably only really exists in my head (although I DO have the evidence to back it up)? "I'm sorry. I had just remembered I'd forgotten to do something. That's why I looked... You know..." "You sure? I mean… you're okay?" "Yeah. Anyway, what were you going to say?" There, again, he looked nervous. "Um... just that I thought, maybe we could... maybe..." "Clark, just say it," I said, smiling. It was so adorable when he got this way. All embarrassed and whatnot. "Maybe we could do something." "Don't we do something every weekend?" I asked innocently. This time, because he was already nervous, he bought my innocent act. I am awful! I won't stop until I thoroughly make him squirm and turn all red! "I mean something... special." "Oh," I said, like I was considering this. "It's just... I have something I want to talk to you about, Lois, and I thought maybe we could go to dinner and then to this beautiful, quiet place that I found when I first moved here. It's just outside the city. Maybe we could go there after dinner..." I didn't answer immediately as my ears were ringing with what he'd just said... He needed to TALK TO ME about something. I must have looked awful because the look on his face was one of total apprehension and almost fear, I'd say. I put my worries aside to placate his. "Clark," I said taking his hand in mine. It felt so warm and soft and large and strong... Wow, it is so EASY to sidetrack! "Clark," I said, "that sounds wonderful. I can't wait." I smiled and then he smiled. Sometimes sacrifice is a beautiful thing. I mean, by pushing my worries aside to deal with later, I was rewarded by a look of relief from him and then a smile. When Clark smiles, the world is right. My world is, anyway. There are no problems, there are no worries. Just me and this man. Clark. My Clark. Dear Diary, Check this out. My sister is too much. - - - - - - TO: Lane, Lois < llane@dailyplanet.com > FROM: Lane, Lucy < ilovelucy311@freemail.com > RECEIVED: Friday, May 17, 1:10 PM Lois, I hate you! I can't believe this! I talk to you on the phone this morning and in the course of the 10 minute conversation, Clark, your BOYFRIEND, who is HOT, brings you coffee and then goes away, and five minutes later brings you a donut. Is that all he does? Does he stop there? No. He proceeds to then pass a note like children in the second grade do that makes you stop listening to me and laugh all giddily and giggly. I ask you 'what' a thousand times until finally you tell me that he had Jimmy Olsen pass you a note that said "Just wanted to tell you that you look absolutely beautiful. And that I am so lucky. I love you." Do you know what MY boyfriend did today? Oh, that's right, I don't have one. I was dumped last month and yesterday a guy on the subway (who has holes in his pants and I'm pretty sure doesn't own any underwear) asked me out. Well, better this way. Single life suits me sometimes. Well, it'd better. I have no choice, do I? I just hope you're grateful for what you have, Lois. You have the most perfect man alive bumping into things, he's so blinded by love for you and only you. It's the forever kind, too, I can tell. Call me sometime when HE'S not around, please, so I don't have to sit there talking to my sister, thinking about the sad things in my own life! Lucy Ps- you know I'm kidding right? I am so happy for you! (Well, mostly... I do wish I wasn't still single, though.) - - - - - - Oh, Lucy... I am grateful. Believe me. You see, when I'm sitting there fretting about things like imaginary syndromes of the two-month variety, I see that things could most definitely be worse. They could be much worse. I have, as Lucy says, "the most perfect man alive" falling all over himself because of me, and I am finding things to worry about where he's concerned? I am Lois Lane. I laugh in the face of two months! AND I've gone nuts. Again. I think it's this book... Anyway, Clark and I have organized our whole weekend. We are going to relax all day on Saturday. His parents will be in town for the day. I am not sure why they're just visiting for a day, but they are. Then Sunday, the actual anniversary, we are going to Santoni, a really nice restaurant. I am not sure what Clark is drinking that he thinks this is even remotely in our price range, but I guess he's thought this out, and he seems to have his heart set on doing certain things in certain locations on Sunday. So I'm game. Then we go to that mysterious place that is... quiet? I have no idea where/what that is. Okay, I have to get back to work. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about. Dear Diary, Oh my god! I am such an idiot! He wants to go somewhere way nicer than he/we can afford and do something "special" this weekend!! He has something he wants to talk to me about!! Hm, let's think about this. Lois Lane, top investigative reporter for the Daily Planet. And I apparently need a house to fall on my head! Clark is going to propose to me! In two days! I think my life just flashed before my eyes or something. I don't know, it's weird. I'm seeing stars, and I don't mean the ones in the sky or in the movies. I think Clark's noticed I don't look right. And now he's heading over. See ya. Dear Diary, It's Friday night now, and I am sitting at home, relaxing. Me and Clark are spending the night apart, as he said he had a lot of things to do. I guess he has to get everything ready for... well, for Sunday. That's fine. I am actually enjoying a few glasses of wine while I write. I am writing in my novel a little and then alternating that with this. I have to say, every other sentence from that leads me to a few more paragraphs in this. It's good though. That shock from earlier today wore off and now I am just wondering one thing... What is wrong with me? I love Clark. I love him with my whole heart and body and soul and mind and whatever else you can love someone with. I mean, when I saw what life was like without him when he left for two weeks and I thought it was truly over between us (before it even began), you know, two months ago, I realized I wanted to be with him forever. And I even told him that, that wonderful day in the park. Why would that notion, of spending forever with him, scare me now? And then I realized. It didn't. It didn't at all. It actually made me excited. There could never be anyone in my life as in tune with my feelings and emotions and needs as Clark. Like before, when he walked over because I looked all panicked, most likely, and pale. He put his hand on my back and looked at me with concern. "You okay?" he asked. I knew he was worrying about me, but I could also see nervousness in his expression. Poor thing; I am always running his emotions around in circles. "I'm okay. Really. I just have a lot on my mind," I said truthfully. Because, come on, I really did have a lot on my mind. "Anything I can help with or that you want to talk about or vent about?" he asked. "No, not really. But I'm okay. Honestly. And thank god it's almost the weekend! I can't wait," I added, which made him release a little breath and smile. "Me neither," he said, although even as he said that and smiled, he still seemed nervous. I guess when you're about to propose marriage to someone, you would be nervous. "And Lois, if I can help at all with whatever's on your mind, I'm just ten feet away, okay?" "Okay," I said. He walked back to his desk with his hands in his pockets and my heart just filled with this feeling that put all those worries from earlier to rest. Just quashed them and killed them. Here was a man who knew me so well and loved me so much. A man I could not live without and loved completely and irrevocably. From that moment on, I had healthy color in my face and was able to just focus on work and leave so I could have this nice, quiet night, writing in my journal... okay, diary... and working a little on my novel. To think in two days my life might just be completely different. It's... It's... Wonderful. Dear Diary, It's now Sunday. Clark is picking me up in an hour, so I thought I would write a little in here. As I've said, I love Sundays! Yesterday was wonderful (in some ways I will elaborate on in a little bit), fun and... interesting. When I say interesting, I am referring to Martha Kent and something she said to me. We had just had a wonderful lunch that Martha had made and were getting ready to go into the city to do some shopping. Well, the Kents wanted to do a little shopping. Clark and I were merely tour guides and company. Clark said he'd go get the car and Jonathan said he'd go with him. Martha said she'd wait with me and meet them out front, to which I noticed Clark give his mother a warning-look I was all too familiar with. He shot me that same look every time we were on a story. And often when we weren't, actually. I am not sure why, though. I don't get into THAT much trouble. Well anyway, I noticed the look and thought that was strange, but shrugged it off. Maybe he just likes to give that look out a lot or something, and to everyone, not just me. Maybe... So Clark and Jonathan left and Martha and I were getting our coats on. Light jackets actually. It's still pretty cool, even though it's early May. And then she started talking and I think I started to understand Clark's look. "Lois, it's been so wonderful these past two months, seeing you and Clark together. Finally! We just waited and waited for it to happen, ever since he first mentioned you when he moved to Metropolis," she said, laughing. I laughed too. "I'm not sure why it took us so long, Martha. Actually I do know why. It was me. All me. I wish I'd caught onto that whole listening to your heart thing a little earlier," I joked. "Oh, honey, it happened perfectly," she said. I smiled as I slipped one hand in one sleeve of my jacket and prepared to do the same for the other. But Martha walked over to me with a look that stopped me from doing anything. She looked nervous and serious. "Lois," she said solemnly. "Martha, what is it?" "Lois, tomorrow... just hear him out, okay?" she said, nervously. I was shocked. Had Clark told his parents of his plans? Well, of course he probably did. He seemingly went to them for every little bit of advice. This seemed so foreign to me, but just because that was not how my parents and I operated did not mean that other families in the galaxy couldn't. And this family, the Kent family, definitely did. "I... of course I will, Martha," I said, turning a little red, since we were, basically, talking about her son proposing to me. She was obviously nervous because she thought I might refuse him or something. And why not? Why wouldn't she think that? I mean, two months ago, I had broken his heart, sending him running off for two weeks to be alone, and he hadn't even told THEM where he went, which spoke volumes for the pain I had inflicted on him. "It's just... oh, Clark told me not to say anything," she said, placing her arm gently on mine. "This is big, Lois, and please... just please promise me that you'll hear him out before you... uh, react too much," she said, having struggled a little for the right wording. I felt so bad! I mean, the woman clearly thought that I might refuse him. Couldn't she tell how much I loved him? I tried to clear this up for her. "Martha, in case you haven't noticed, I love Clark," I said, a sympathetic smile, that was more amused than honest, painted on my face. "I love him more than anything. You don't have to worry about anything." She didn't seem all that relaxed after I said this, and I couldn't help but wonder just what she thought I really thought of her son. I'd just professed my love for him, what more did she want, that I love him written in blood on the wall? The whole thing seemed strange--almost cryptic--but I just figured, he's their only child and incredibly precious to them. Understandably. She just didn't want to see him hurt. Well, after tomorrow, she'd know that she had not had any need to worry at all. Then we left the apartment to meet the Kent boys and go shopping. The rest of the day went by quickly. It was nice spending the day with the Kents. It was like a lesson for me in how normal families operate. No cutting putdowns or "constructive criticism" or condescending remarks or arguments. Just small talk and sharing opinions on items that someone was considering purchasing and joking and laughing. You know, Brady Bunch stuff. Clark dropped his parents off at his apartment and said he'd drive me to my apartment (did I mention we were in the Kents' rental car all day?) and sit with me for a little while. We kind of just drove in a comfortable silence. I looked out the passenger-side window watching the stars in the sky, and the lights from the cars behind us, seen though the side mirror. Clark reached his hand over the center armrest and took my hand, holding it on my lap wordlessly. Still, we didn't talk. We exchanged one sweet smile and sat, enjoying the peace and quiet of the calm night. When we arrived at my place, he came inside, which I thought was strange since his parents were in town and for such a short visit. But he didn't seem to want to go. As soon as the door was shut to my apartment, he pulled me into a hug. The hug seemed... desperate. Yes, I think that is the only way to describe it. When he first pulled me in, it was gentle (as always) and sweet... but then he didn't let go. He just held me in his strong arms, seeming so vulnerable and scared even. Resting my head on his chest, I let him rock me and hold me for as long as he needed to. Not that I minded. I love hugging Clark. It's a wonderful feeling. A feeling of belonging and loving. He's sexy and strong, but when we hug, he's Clark, my Clark and he needs me and loves me, the way I love and need him. It's an amazing feeling of connection. He eventually pulled back enough to look into my eyes, a small smile on his face. "I love you, Lois Lane. Do you know that?" he asked. "Of course I know that," I told him, an amused smile playing across my lips. "Do you know that I love you?" "Yes," he said, his gaze boring into mine. I felt so bad. I could see some demons unknown to me tearing him up. In an attempt to make him relax and be sure of the strength of my feelings (and just because I really wanted to), I reached up and kissed him. There was a lot of love in the kiss that I was rewarded with in return. And a lot of desperation. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my hand which rested on his chest. I'd never seen Clark like this. He was so scared. He wanted tonight to last forever, it seemed, because he was afraid of what would happen tomorrow. Sometimes, more than words, kissing communicates volumes of our feelings for each other, me and Clark. I deepened the kiss, hoping to relax him. I walked him over to the couch, all the while keeping the kiss going. Once we were sitting, I pulled at him, so he'd lay on top of me, while we kissed. When we make out, this is usually the position we end up in. One of us on top of the other. I like it better when I can look up at him, my hair not obstructing the view by falling in the way. Nothing much happens besides some intense kissing and roaming hands when we make out. Clothing never gets removed or anything. He is Clark Kent, after all, ever the gentleman. And that's fine. With him, I always wanted to take it slow, so nothing could ruin it. Ruin us. But on this particular night, something in his kiss seemed so anxious, desperate and even sad. I met his desperation with a passion all my own, and soon enough, we were getting a little further than we ever had before. The warm sensation I felt when I noticed his hand was roaming over my bare stomach sent shockwaves through me. My shirt had been pulled up a little, and his hand was on my stomach. That was it, my stomach! Not anywhere else! But it felt amazing, feeling him touching my skin. I reached my hand under his shirt and was rewarded with the feeling of warm skin underneath my hand. Hard stomach muscles and soft skin. My Clark... His hands started roaming everywhere from the waistband of my jeans to the straps of my bra, brushing over my breasts a little, in his explorations. I was, meanwhile, running my hands up and down his chest, starting to move his sweater and t-shirt together up, to take them off and be rewarded with a view of that amazing chest I was always thinking about. I didn't get that far, however, because his head shot up. I guess his conscience kicked him in the butt or something, because he pulled my shirt down nicely, before attending to his own. "I'm sorry, Lois," he said, reddening. "Clark, it's okay," I said, also blushing. He looked out the window, a conflicted look on his face. "I should go before this... before..." Again, he looked sad, nervous, relieved and frustrated all at once. The range of emotions he can pull off, I swear, he should have considered acting. "No, it's fine," I said, smiling shyly. "I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed me quickly and was out the door before I could even tell him one more sweet "I love you" to put his worries to rest. Although I don't think all the I love yous in the world could calm him down. But what a way to deal with nerves! A little making out. I like that medicine. Should we have more problems that lead to that solution! One can only hope! Oh! Clark is here. Wish me luck! And wish him luck too! Poor thing's so nervous! To think, next time I write in this I may be engaged to be married to the man I love! Hi Diary, what's up? I know you're wondering what happened to "dear". Well let me just tell you. I am not in a very "Dear diary" mood at the moment! Well. I mean… Well. My life is definitely different! Thank god I'm writing in this again, or I'd actually just sit with smoke coming out of my head going mad to the point of permanent institutionalization. Clark… Clark… CLARK… did not propose. Oh no. That thing he had to talk to me about? He's… he's…? He's S… S… Clark Kent is S… So dead! Oh my god, I can't even write this. I am too in shock and MAD and upset. How could an evening that started so beautifully and with such promise end like this? End with us, well, ending. Because that is what happened. We ended. It's… over. Over. I can't even write. I start crying every time I play it over again in my head. I can't take it. I'm going to bed. And writing is supposed to be therapeutic! Dear Diary, Well, work today was fun. Let me just tell you now that it's not easy having a partner at work that you absolutely hate and despise who is also your ex-boyfriend of one day. Not easy at all. Some might say it's damn near impossible! I walked into the Planet, my clothes all mismatched and the buttons done unevenly. I noticed this later, of course. Turns out when I have this much on my mind, I don't think all that clearly. I mean green and orange are just not the best colors to wear together. Especially not with white shoes. I walked to my desk fully aware that I was thinking the last possible thing you'd think I'd be thinking at this moment. I could have been thinking, "I lost my boyfriend, the love of my life, the man I was SUPPOSED to marry." I could have been thinking, "Said man is a liar and the lowest form of life imaginable." I could have been thinking, "Oh my GOD, Clark Kent, my partner, my best friend, mild mannered reporter and, oh yeah, my boyfriend (and by that I mean EX-boyfriend) is SUPERMAN!" No… you know what I was actually thinking? "I knew it, I knew it! My Two Month Syndrome is behind me, my BUTT!" I somehow managed to get to my desk and sit down. I noticed that HE was not in the office yet. Is it just me, or is it unfair that he gets paid to do a job he is barely around to do? He's late all the time, and sometimes he runs out in the middle of the workday for an hour or so! Now I know why, of course. I don't think it's fair, personally. He should not share a byline with me when I am one hundred percent this job. I am one hundred percent JUST Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet. And I've been sharing my byline and time with someone who is just fifty percent. And… and… that's not fair! Of course LIFE is not fair. Is it fair to be proposed to twice in your life, first by a ruthless criminal and murderer and second by your best friend who HAPPENS to also be leading a double life that he sort of neglected to mention in the past two years? No, that is not fair at all! It's not exactly FAIR to befriend two people and then find out that one of them was actually just an extension of the other!!! SO… anyway… Clark strolled in around ten PAST nine. I saw him come off the elevator; I was walking back from the restroom where I'd gone to throw water on my face. I noticed him before he noticed me, and I made sure to look away, keeping my back to him completely, the whole time. I was trying to make a statement. I guess it didn't work though, because he came over to my desk anyway. "Lois? Lois, can we talk?" he asked. Yeah, Clark, let's talk. Where should we start? Gee, sorry I never mentioned I was Superman, it just never came up! I just kept my back to him, now at my desk, pretending I hadn't heard him. "Lois?" Now he sounded more desperate. And even a little pathetic. It was almost enough to make me feel bad. Almost. After he got the hint that I was not about to acknowledge that he existed, he walked to his own desk. The news confirmed for me that he was late this morning because of an accident on the highway. Since we weren't really on a story together anyway, we had no reason to talk to each other during the day. So we didn't. I just got to work on my latest fluff piece, dedicating myself to that article, not looking up once. You'd think I'd been working on some Pulitzer-worthy story. So that story got me through the day, up until the conference that Perry called at the end of the day. I seated myself away from Clark, still not making eye contact with him at all. He's lucky I didn't look at him too! The look I would give him would have surely burnt a hole into his head, like the way he can do that when he looks at things. Only with me, it would have had nothing to do with unearthly powers. Just pure Lois Lane anger. The conference was the same as always… Perry complaining about there being no real news lately, telling us to be especially aware, so if ANY story broke out, we'd be the first paper to cover it. At one point, I instinctively looked at Clark (I'd seen him move out of the corner of my eye), and saw him looking out the conference room door, a serious look on his face. He was hearing a call for help, no doubt. I rolled my eyes, thinking of all the times he'd done this and I just assumed he had severe A.D.D. or something. Whatever the call was, it must have been sort of important, because he seemed to forget to mutter an excuse before leaving. When he opened the door to the conference room and Perry asked where he thought he was going, he looked like he'd forgotten where he was. Don't ask me why I did it. I mean, I hate him, right?! But before I could remember this, I was off and running. "Perry, we have a story that might be big. We're still looking into it. Clark, did you schedule that meeting with our source for NOW? During the conference? You knew we had this! You are so irresponsible," I said disgustedly. The disgusted attitude was the only real part of that whole show. "Yeah, I'm sorry," he said, first looking at me, his eyes a mixture of conflicted, unreadable emotions, and then turning to Perry. Perry waved a hand and Clark was off. Man, I can't even hate him right. Well, I am going to bed! Dear Diary, I can't sleep. I suppose you're wondering what exactly happened yesterday. Well it's obvious what happened. But there are details… And since it's one in the morning and I don't appear to be heading off to Dreamland any time soon, I guess I can relive it. I don't want to. But Lucy did say, back when she first gave me this diary, you know, the last time I had some relationship- ending day with Clark, that writing might help clear my head. And it did then. So, here goes… Yesterday, Sunday, 1 PM… Clark picked me up at my apartment and, boy, was I happy to see him. I mean all I ever do when I'm not with him is think about him and wait to see him again. Well, that is what I used to do. Now… I dread seeing him. Well, for the past one day anyway. Oh, I'm sidetracking, I know it. I am going to try to go through my feelings from beginning to end, not going off on how hurt I am now during the parts of the evening where I was still in the dark about this little secret of his. I'll try to just paint a clear picture here of how I felt every step of the way yesterday. Funny, it's not hard to remember the joy and happiness from earlier in the evening anyway. You'd think that given where the night ended up, I'd have blocked out the good part or something and just really only remembered, where last night was concerned, the bad part. But it's not true. I remember so clearly that when I opened the door, he looked so handsome. He looked like a teenager on prom night, all nervous and dressed up. He wasn't wearing a tux or anything, like on prom night. He was wearing a charcoal suit with a darker shade of gray button-up shirt and a burgundy tie. It brought out his eyes, his skin tone, his hair, his body, all his amazing features… this suit. I'd never seen it before. But he looked amazing, standing in my doorway, his hands in his pockets, a shy smile on his face. The shy smile became a look of shock as he looked me up and down, taking me in. "Lois, you look… you look…" "… you do too," I said, since he seemed to be at a loss for words at that moment, like me. "…amazing. Beautiful," he said, his voice deeper than normal. I smiled as he cleared his throat and gave me his beautiful, thousand-kilowatt smile. "Thank you, Clark," I said, smiling and blushing, putting a strand of hair nervously behind my ear. I was glad I had decided to wear my periwinkle dress. I hadn't worn it since I'd bought it a month ago, and it was not a color I normally wore. But when I was with Lucy and bought it, she had promised me that it only did good things for my figure, my complexion and my eyes. She picked out some makeup that I should wear with the dress to tie it all together, and I decided to take that chance last night, for my date with Clark. The dress had spaghetti straps, was form-fitting, low cut (not TOO low, not to worry!), and fell below my knees, fanning out at the end in a 1920s style. It was a different look for me, but I was glad I tried it, as he couldn't even seem to compose himself completely at the sight of me. Yes, I was very glad I'd taken Lucy's advice and gone with that dress. He took a step toward me and kissed me lightly and gently. It was a quick kiss, but long enough to give me feelings in my stomach. We've been kissing fairly regularly for two months now, but for some reason, every single kiss manages to give me a new wonder of feelings and excitement. It's amazing actually. Or rather, it was amazing. Before last night… Right, not there yet. Going in order. So he picked me up. We complimented each other. He kissed me and I had some feelings as a result. Okay, moving on. The drive to Santoni was quiet and peaceful. We just held hands listening to the radio, enjoying each other's company. I've lived in Metropolis for HOW long and I've never actually been inside Santoni. It was the nicest restaurant by far in Metropolis, though. So I'd heard from numerous sources and newspaper reviewers. And the most expensive because of that fact. Even when I'd dated and been engaged to Lex, we'd never gone to Santoni. I had no idea what to expect, no idea how Clark had managed to get a reservation, and no idea how he was hoping to pay for any of it. But he seemed so excited and so intent on making the night special, so I sat in the car, wondering what it would be like and looking forward to it. When we walked in, I was floored by the sight before me. There were candles lit in various places throughout the beautifully medieval-styled restaurant, serving as the only light in the place. There were so many candles that it was easy to see, but wonderfully romantic too, given the sweet, dim light. But the beautiful candlelight was not what floored me. There was no one in there. There was one table in the center of the restaurant. Two chairs. And that was it. There were no more tables. That I could see, anyway. I had no idea what Clark did to pull this off... To RENT out the entire place for the night. But I didn't care. No one had ever done anything like this for me in my entire life, and it brought tears to my eyes. "Clark, I've never seen anything so... so..." I broke off, shaking my head as a tear slipped down my cheek. He kissed my cheek sweetly, smiling reassuringly. "...so romantic," I finally said. "...so beautiful." "I was just thinking the same thing," he said. But he wasn't looking at the ambience. He was looking at me, intensely... and I remember... I could actually feel his love. In that moment. Who knew the night would turn out the way it did, with all my good feelings suddenly turning bad and angry and negative and furious and... Oh! It is SO easy to sidetrack right now! Especially for me! Okay, okay... So we're at Santoni. He and I are seated and I notice beautiful Italian music playing in the background. The conversation moved fluidly. Talking to Clark was always like that, which actually made those first few weeks of our relationship so nice, instead of painful as it often is with new couples. We already knew each other so well and had so many things we could talk about. Over dinner, we discussed a current story, other work-related things, Lucy, his parents, his European adventures (I never tire of hearing those stories) and my novel. I told him what I'd added to it on Friday night. He got really excited about where I was going with the novel. "Funny, every time you tell me about it, it gets better and better. I mean, it hasn't come to a standstill or to a big wall or anything, and I don't think it will. You're in the thick of it now. It'll only get better and even easier to write and before you know it, you'll be done," he said, and then sipped his red wine, his eyes smiling as he looked at me. "I know. I'm amazed. Usually it's two sentences and then a big, dramatic 'now what!', months of writer's block and then toying with the idea of quitting. Shelving it for good. But now... I don't know, I feel like I got through all the hard parts and now I just need to get the characters to solve the mystery, forgive each other for the lying they did 'to protect each other' and get them home, safe and sound. Once the bad guys are caught, of course." "Of course," he said, seeming amused. After a moment, he looked down at his food and asked, not looking up, "So, you're going to have Jen forgive Scott then? For... for lying?" Now of course, I understand what this was all about. Oh, Clark, you're so deep. But I had no idea at the time, of course. "Of course she'll forgive him. She loves him. And he was protecting her. In a way, he was protecting himself too. It's... complicated. Well, you know." At that he looked up, looking like was afraid or something... or exposed in some way. "What's wrong?" I asked. "No, nothing," he said, quickly. "Nothing... I just hope... I just hope that you..." "...THAT YOU ARE JUST LIKE JEN, LOIS, AND YOU CAN FORGIVE ME FOR LYING," was probably what he was thinking. Well, Jen's an idiot. Now I know that, of course. But I wasn't thinking that then. "...are enjoying dinner," he eventually said. It was so out of the blue, I only now understand what it was he was most likely really thinking. But being still blind as I was, I took his hand in mine, assured him I was loving every moment of the dinner and then finished it. The drive to the quiet place on the outskirts of Metropolis was relaxing. We continued some light conversation. Well, mostly it was me talking. Clark seemed really nervous. Now I know why, of course. When we got there, I had no idea we were there. I mean, it was an empty field! There wasn't a town around for what seemed like miles. The road that had gotten us there seemed pretty unused. I (again, at the time) was not sure how he had found this place. But he opened the passenger side door, took my hand, helped me out and walked me... ...into this wondrous field, which seemed to leave the rest of the world behind, somewhere else. It really was beautiful. As he guided me, I glanced upwards, to be rewarded with a sky view you never get in Metropolis. Stars, immaculately bright and shining, and so many of them! More than you could ever see in the city. I looked at Clark when I realized we'd stopped walking and he was smiling at me. "Pretty, isn't it?" he asked. "Clark, it's gorgeous! How did you ever find THIS place?" He kind of laughed, quietly, to himself. "When I first came to Metropolis, I stumbled across this place. I come here sometimes, just to think and be alone. Whenever I feel like the world is against me and I don't belong, I just... I come here." "When do you feel like the world is against you?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know. Sure, some of the people we wrote stories about didn't like us much afterwards, but the world, so to say, was never against us. If I didn't feel that way (and I had more enemies than him; I was sure of that--at the time, that is), then he surely shouldn't feel that way. "Come on," he said, instead of answering my question, and he started guiding me again, further into this spectacular place. I looked up at the vast beyond while we walked, again, until we stopped, again. This time, when I looked down, I noticed something different right away. There was a blanket all laid out on the ground. A bottle of wine, two glasses and candles on the blanket. "Clark, you couldn't have made this night more perfect if you tried," I said, tears forming in my eyes again. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, that he could bring me to tears like this twice in one night. I thought that comment would make him smile or relax or something, but the look I saw on his face was translating to "I wouldn't say that JUST yet..." I of course, assumed that was because the best was yet to come. We sat down on the blanket and he poured us a glass of wine. I noticed his hand was shaking. I felt bad that he was so nervous, I remember. I took the glass and said, "To us, Clark," very seriously and sensually, since I felt, at this point, like I was under some kind of spell. He repeated the toast, and then we clinked our glasses together lightly and took a sip. Um... Oh, wow... I... This is where things get... This is the part I do not like to think about. The part that prevented me from falling asleep last night. The part that woke me up in the middle of the night tonight... The part that haunts me and aches my heart. The very heart I had given to him two months ago and thought I would give to him forever two nights ago. Oh... I guess I should just go ahead and pretend I'm back there, right? Get down on paper the most accurate description of this... this part. This awful, keeps-me-up-at-night, must-just-be-a- nightmare, kill-me-now-please horrifying part. That is just too real for me to ever forget. We, uh... we drank a little of our glasses of wine, looking into each other's eyes. Oh, god, my hand is shaking. Okay, just breathe. In... Out... Deep breaths. Okay. "Lois, there is something that I want to tell you," he said, looking really, really nervous. I put my glass down and walked (on my knees) over to him. I took his hands in mine and kissed him. "Clark, it's okay. Relax," I urged him. He didn't relax. He kept his eyes closed for a few breaths. Then he looked at me and laughed a little. "You know, I'm not scared to share this with you, what I'm about to tell you, I mean. I'm just scared of losing you," he said in a voice so quiet, it almost seemed possible that he hadn't said anything at all and that I had just imagined it. Dreamed it. "Clark, you'll never--" "--Lois, don't say that. You... you think you feel one way right now. I hope so badly that you'll feel this way in five minutes. I'm just worried...worried you won't," he said. "Well, why don't you just say it, then? You know, quickly. Get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid," I said matter-of- factly, a silly grin on my face. I just really wanted to calm him down. But it didn't seem like anything could do that. He didn't even humor me with a smile or a small laugh or anything. He just sat there, looking all serious and really REALLY nervous. It was enough to make me really REALLY nervous, which was not good, since we had just eaten a three course meal less than an hour ago. "Before I tell you, can I kiss you?" he asked, looking like he was about to just burst into tears. "Clark, of course you can kiss me. You don't ever have to ask," I said. I remember thinking it was so strange he was this nervous about proposing to me. I thought I had spent the past two months making my love for him VERY clear. He cupped my cheek with his hand, sweetly, the way he's done a thousand times. He looked at me intensely and lowered his face to mine, slowly, seeming to want to make the whole moment just last. When his lips touched mine, I felt fireworks. Butterflies. Everything I always felt when I kissed him. Only it was magnified because he was so nervous. I mean, he was kissing me like he would never be able to kiss me again... And the kiss, as a result was just... heart-breaking and sweet. Passionate and gentle. I knew the kiss so well, but he was kissing me like we'd never kissed before and he wanted to learn what it was like to kiss Lois Lane. What my lips felt like and were shaped like. Wanted to remember always how I smelled and tasted and felt. It made me feel like we were kissing for the first time, too. I was nervous and giddy and things were just exploding inside me as I was overcome with love for him. And then the kiss was over. He seemed to not want to end it, but to realize he couldn't hold off telling me what he had to tell me forever. He looked down at the grass when he first pulled away. The man look wretched. Tormented. And then, for just a moment, brave. He looked up at me when I sensed this bravery. Inside, I was thrilled. He was finally brave enough to just do it, knowing I would tell him yes. Perfect! Oh, Lois (Lois from Two Days Ago)... Not perfect. "Lois. There's something you need to know. Something I... want... to tell you. In a way, I've always wanted to tell you. Part of me didn't at first, because I wanted you to love me for me," he said, and I furrowed my eyebrows confusedly. "What!?" I asked, lightly. "And why are you rambling like me?" He smiled. "Lois, you, essentially, chose me over... over Superman." I nodded. "Not essentially, Clark. I did choose you over Superman. I told you that. I told you all that two months ago. I told you I wanted you and I always did." "I know," he said, taking a deep breath. Apparently he wasn't opening the issue up for discussion but really just stating a point. "I want you to know how much that means to me... how much it REALLY means to me," he said. "I know, Clark," I said softly. "No, Lois. You don't know... everything," he said. I cocked my head to the side and creased my brow, wondering what was going on. It was then that I started to realize this didn't seem to be a marriage proposal about to happen. My instinctive disappointment was immediately replaced with fear. I had no idea what he was about to say. But now... I was nervous, too. "Lois. For two years, I have not been completely honest with you. With that being said, you need to know that you know me better than anyone. I've always been honest about who I am, inside, I mean, and my feelings. You and I, what we have, you have to know, it's real." "I know what we have is real, Clark... Tell me what this is all about," I said. I felt like I could feel our world closing in on us, but I didn't know why. "What are you trying to tell me?" He looked down and wrapped his arms around his knees, which were in front of him. "Superman came to Earth when he was a baby, Lois. In 1966, to be exact. His real name is Kal El," he started, keeping his face down and pulling off his glasses. I watched his glasses a moment later, dangling from a hand that was still wrapped around his knees, realizing I had never seen Clark without them on. He looked up at the stars in the sky as he continued. "His ship landed in Kansas... Smallville, Kansas." "You knew him all along? Before, before I met him?" I asked, which made him close his eyes breaking his trance on those stars, and then look at me. I know I was stupid to not have put the pieces together at this point. I know that now. I guess it's just something so unexpected that you don't realize...okay, I know I know, I'm sidetracking. He looked at me. Seeing him without his glasses, when he looked down and made eye- contact with me made my mouth fall open and the pieces... so many pieces that I didn't even know were there, started coming together and making a picture that had always been a little blurry, even if I never knew of it's existence, suddenly so much clearer... "Jonathan and Martha Kent couldn't have children. They saw a meteor fall from the sky in Shuster's field and they went to inspect it. There, they found a baby... and they raised... me... as their own." I remember pulling my hand from his like I'd been resting it on a stove burner and just realized it was burning me. "No..." I started, still staring at his face, disbelieving of what he was clearly trying to tell me. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me, a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. "You're... you're..." I couldn't say it. I remember remembering Martha's voice in my head telling me to just hear him out. I remembered promising her I would, more or less. That thought was followed with the thought "Why am I thinking about Martha Kent right now?!" And then I realized I really couldn't say it. I couldn't actually say that simple question, which was really more of a statement, "You're Superman?"... So I struggled until I could at least say the inverse: "You're not... Clark Kent..." I said, grasping at straws, trying to make sense out of what he was telling me. But I felt as if I were in a tiny, airtight box, instead of the great, wide open, with fresh air all around me. "I am, Lois. I'm Clark Kent. I'll always be Clark Kent. I am a reporter for the Daily Planet. My partner, my best friend, and I hope after this, my girlfriend, is Lois Lane. Clark Kent, Lois. That's me. No matter where I was born or what my birth name was, I was raised by my parents, the Kents, in Smallville, with their values instilled in and taught to me and their love given to me. I'm who I am and the man you know because of that, Lois. Don't say I'm not Clark Kent, Lois, because Clark Kent is who I am. Superman... is just what I can do." My mouth fell open and I just stared at him, Martha's begging reverberating in my ears. Even if I didn't want to hear him out, where could I go? I was in the middle of a big, huge field! Nice going, Clark. I'm sure that wasn't part of your "plan" or anything. And also, words were not forming. And I felt too numb to even walk or run away from him. I just sat there, dumbfounded, with no choice but to keep my promise to Martha. "Lois, I told you once that I would tell you why I went from place to place when I was traveling around the world. You thought I was running away from something and I promised you I would tell you why someday. Today, Lois. I'm telling you today. I would do something to help, and someone would catch a glimpse. Not enough to know it was ME, Clark Kent, doing these, these unearthly things. But I had to leave, just to be safe. I stopped running when I came to Metropolis. I met you. I saw a dream: working at the Daily Planet. I wanted to make it work so badly, and when you told me to bring a change of clothes to work- -" "--you did save that crazy man in the manhole. Or that not-all- that-crazy-now-that-I-think-about-it man--" "--Yes. I saved him. And when you said that, something clicked. I needed a disguise that I could wear and openly do these things. Openly help people. AND lead a normal life. My parents helped me create Superman." "Your MOTHER made it for you?" I said incredulously, and a little angrily. He took a deep breath, probably sensing that I wasn't about to wrap my arms around his neck and say, "I love you, of course, even though you lied to me for two years!" "Yeah. On the one hand, it was wonderful to be able to stop hiding. To be able to help openly and not hide the powers from the world out of fear. But in exchange for being finally able to stop hiding the powers, I had to hide something new... something probably even bigger. I knew in hiding that one, big secret, I was protecting myself and my family, and even you and all my friends. I knew I had to. But lying to you, Lois. From the moment I realized that I loved you I knew it would be hard to lie to you. I just wanted so badly to be normal. But when I realized you loved... my creation... things got more complicated than I ever expected them to." I finally found my voice. "Well, Clark, don't you know, I'm just a really superficial person," I said. "No, Lois--" "Yeah. Clearly. I fell for the powers, and not the man," I said angrily. "Clearly I am a horrible and superficial person." "No, you're not, Lois. I--" "Poor, poor Clark. Pushed aside by evil, mean Lois, because she was so dazzled by your god in tights." He looked down, taking a deep breath. He knew... I was mad. And he wasn't about to get a word in edgewise. "That day... Clark... when the billboard fell and... and YOU saved me! You... and I told you I wanted to be... you said... you said we'd be more than friends and then stormed out of my life moments later at the Planet! I put myself through hell for TWO WEEKS!" "I don't know why I said that, Lois. I guess... I was hurt. It's not the first time I've been hurt and said something to you in that moment that I didn't mean," he said. "I'd like to think I'm a bigger person than that. But where your concerned Lois, my heart feels things and does things that it's never--" I had no clue was he was talking about, but I didn't care. "You played with my heart like it was some kind of yo-yo or toy. You humiliated me. I humiliated myself. I have been living a lie, Clark. I thought tonight that you were--" I stopped and shook my head. "What?" he asked, looking... still unreadable, but a little... hopeful maybe? "--forget it, Clark. Forget everything. The last two months--" "--have been the best two months of my life. Lois, I have never felt this way. Ever. I'm in love with you. I love you so much- -" "--so much that you felt the need to lie to me for the entire time I've known you, even after we crossed over the line from friendship to, to more?" He looked down again, looking like he was about to cry. "I trusted you, Clark. You were the man that knew me so well, who I knew SO well, who I trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt. If someone had asked me if you would ever lie to me, I would have said 'no' without even really thinking about it. So deep was my trust for you embedded in me. You had no right to get angry at me that day two months and two weeks ago, Clark. No right at all." "I know," he said, not looking up. His voice was shaking. "Lois, I'm--" "No... Clark. Speaking of that DAY; that day that kept me awake every single night for the two weeks that followed. I want to say something to you that you said to me THAT day. I only hope it haunts you the way it haunted me, these two words I have to say..." With a shaky breath he looked up, at me, meeting my gaze. I ignored the tears that sat on the corners of his eyes, not daring to fall. "I'm through," I said. He released a long breath, shaking his head, looking like he was about to crumble. He looked down again. I couldn't be sure, because of the dark, but I thought I saw a tear roll down his cheek, as he stared downward. I turned my gaze away from him at that moment though. This was MY turn to be mad. I had every right. I was not giving him anything. I stood up and looked down at him, realizing he was still staring down, looking like a lost puppy. "I thought you were invulnerable," I said in a voice that even I didn't recognize, it was so devoid of sympathy and emotion. Anger and resentment were all that remained. I noticed him tense slightly at my words. After a few more moments, he put his glasses back on. His brilliant disguise. And then he stood up. "I want to go home," I said. "And I don't mean the long drive back. I want to be home and be away from you more quickly than that. And I'm pretty sure you can arrange that." In a blur of wind and colors and stars behind, Clark no longer stood before me. In his place stood another man. A man I loved so long ago. A man who didn't really exist. A man I swore I hated now. Even while I hated that man, I watched in mesmerized awe as the one man had changed into the other. And that man, that man that now stood before me, took me home, saying nothing more to me for the night. And once he was gone from my sight, I wrote a little in this and went to bed calmly. Okay, that's a lie. I don't know why I'm lying. I mean, for god's sake, this is just a diary. I went to bed and cried. I cried my eyes out. For the pain I felt all over and... well, for my loss. I cried a lot... I cried myself to sleep. Despite my best efforts, the pain and the tears are just not abating. Yet. Well, now it's after four in the morning on Monday night. I still have HOW many days left of work with him this week? Maybe I should look into taking my vacation days and going, I don't know, somewhere. Like he did. Well, there you have it. That's the story of my life. Losing sleep because of Clark. Being haunted by Clark. Clark... He's a non-stop cause of bad feelings for me. And yet... Ugh, I'm going to sleep. Well, I will try anyway... Dear Diary, The last two days have not been too much different for me than Monday was. Clark and I don't talk. He hasn't stopped trying in the mornings. Maybe I need to find a way to make it clearer to him. The words "I'm through" and my ongoing silent treatment do not seem to be doing the trick. Lucy has been bombarding me with emails. She's like a cat... she can sense when things go wrong or something. Check it out: _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Lane, Lucy RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 21, 11:02 AM Lois, Last night, you did not seem like yourself on the phone. At all. Maybe it was just me. But I talked to you last week and you were all giggling like a schoolgirl, all "I'm in love, I'm in love, and I'm annoyingly happy about it!" Then today you sounded like you were recovering from having been run over by a train, which in your line of work could actually be the case. So what is it? What's going on? Are you really just recovering from a grueling case that put you in danger and maybe beat on you a little, literally? Or are we talking trouble in paradise kind of problems? Write back or call me! I have no life, so I might as well try to help you with yours. Love, Lucy _ _ _ _ _ _ She told me to respond and so I did. _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lucy FROM: Lane, Lois SENT: Tuesday, May 21. 11:10 AM Lucy, Don't call, don't write. I don't want to talk. Just please leave me alone. -Lois. _ _ _ _ _ _ I know, I know, but I was not exactly in the cheeriest of moods. Usually I'm very nice to my sister. This just... It wasn't one of those times. And then I get THIS back: _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Lane, Lucy RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 21, 11:21 AM Lois, What are you doing tomorrow? Let's have lunch! I actually have a date tonight (yay for me!), but if you want me to cancel, I will, so we can talk or whatever. Let me know! -Lucy :) _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lucy FROM: Lane, Lois SENT: Tuesday, May 21. 11:25 AM Did you get my last email? _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Lane, Lucy RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 21, 11:28 AM Yes. We'll do lunch then! I'll pick you up at work! See you then! _ _ _ _ _ _ I do NOT want to talk to anyone right now, especially not Lucy. What could I even tell her? "Oh, sis, it's so hard, it's just my boyfriend? Well, he's from another planet. As a matter of fact, he's Superman. He's been leading a double life for the entire two years I've known him and I thought he was going to propose last night, but really, he wanted to drop my world out from under my feet by telling me about his, you know, being from, well, not Earth." I don't think so. Oh, god, Perry and Clark are heading over here right now. Kill me now, please! It's definitely not yet noon... on WEDNESDAY! Just for clarification purposes, I am referring to the Wednesday AFTER my (would-be) two month anniversary. Yeah... Good times. Dear Diary, Well, Perry told us that he doesn't care what is going on with us. That when we got together we swore it wouldn't affect our work. That we are supposed to be above all else, partners. Oh, Perry, if you only knew. I tried not to look at Clark the whole time Perry was talking, but the one time I did catch his eyes, I noticed he was looking at me... like he was studying me. Seemingly to make sure I was okay. I wanted to yell, "Don't play nice with me, Kent! I know your story, you liar!" But instead I said, "Sure, Perry. Uh, we'll get right on it," like some defeated girl who was most definitely not the tempestuous, fighting Lois (Mad Dog) Lane. "Well good, because I did not hire you two as reporters because you're just so darn sweet and cute. That might be why you started dating. But it's not why I hired you," Perry said, smiling in his little joking way, like this was all some teenage argument and just plain silly. "Got it, Chief," I said, going pale. Well, feeling like I was going pale. "But there aren't any stories right now. Soon as there's a big one, I'll, I mean WE'LL be on it." "Okay. Glad to hear it," he said, walking away. As soon as he was gone, Clark bent down. "Lois, I was just thinking--" I turned and looked at him. "There's not exactly a big story on my desk, Clark, is there?" In lieu of an answer, he just blinked a few times, looking all defeated and sad. "When there is one, we'll talk, okay? Excuse me," I said, seeing Lucy get off the elevator. I couldn't believe she actually came to lunch after I made myself so crystal clear. She can be so stubborn when she is on a mission, I swear! But since going to lunch with her DID make avoiding Clark for the moment a little easier, I was only too happy to walk her right back into the elevator and go. So that is where I just came from: lunch with Lucy. She got me to spill the story... well, not the WHOLE story, obviously. That one I'll probably take to my grave, assuming I don't, I don't know, talk in my sleep some time, having some person who doesn't know overhear and figure it out. We went to a charming little deli that she promised would cheer me up, just based on the cuteness of the place. Well, the place was cute, I'll give her that. But it did not cheer me up. I couldn't be cheered up. You know why? You know what the only thing worse than hitting rock bottom is? Flying the highest you've ever been in your whole life only moments before. If Clark and I were in a failing relationship and then it was over, that would be hard. But it would be easier to deal with. My life was PERFECT, right up until that moment, that MOMENT that he told me everything. And then my world was rocked, knocking me, so quickly. Down, down, down... Down. To happen that fast is far worse than a gradual fall to the bottom. Nothing could cheer me up, even a little. It's like my body was in shock or something, from the quickness with which my life and feelings changed. But Lucy tried anyway. "Lois, do you remember when you were eleven and I was nine? You started telling me that you would help me get through life because you had all the answers? I was upset about a bad grade at school and someone that made fun of me because of it. You said you'd help me get the better grade and rise above what that kid said. When I asked what YOU could do, you said you were my big sister and could do anything!" I did remember this conversation. I couldn't believe Lucy remembered it though. How embarrassing! I had seen an older sibling on a television show say something like that, and it was comforting to the little kid, so I had tried to use the same logic with my sister. But it had ended up coming out all high and mighty, like I thought I was on some kind of commercial selling the product 'Lois Lane: Big Sister'. "I remember," I told her, a shy smile on my face. "Did you know that I believed you? I believed everything you said. I thought you had ALL the answers to everything in life. I thought you were the girl who would never need help from anyone. No one could hurt you and nothing could faze you. You were Lois Lane. Strong and smart and vibrant and quick-witted and happy. Lois Lane! I wanted to be just like you," she said, touching my arm. I wasn't exactly sure where she was going with this, but I went with her. It was better than talking about Clark. "You wanted to be just like me? Lucy, you never studied a day in your life, especially after that conversation. You stuck your nose up at me every time I said anything to you about how important studying was. You told me I dressed too boring and you always made sure when my hair was long, yours was short, and when my hair was short, yours was long," I said. "I didn't want you to KNOW I believed you!" she said. Honestly? She's too much! "Well good job, Lucy; I had no idea," I said, smiling. "Lois, you have looked out for me my whole life. I know if YOU ever had a problem, you'd never really willingly come to me about it. I always have to hunt you down, listen intently to your tone to decide if you're really okay or not, and when you're not, I have to invite myself over or to lunch so I can just TRY to be a good sister." "Lucy, you ARE a good sister. I always know that you care. If I don't reach out to you, well that's just--" "--but you SHOULD reach out to me," she interrupted me, an urgency and sadness in her tone. "Lois, please. I leaned on you a lot when we were growing up. Hell, you practically raised me more than Mom and Dad. But Lois, you're not really my big sister anymore. You're two years older than me. It shouldn't be 'big sister' / 'little sister' anymore. It should be Lois and Lucy... close sisters. Sisters who are all grown up and are friends and can tell each other anything. I don't want to always think that I'm ten steps behind you and you don't need me or ANYBODY." I just stared at the flowers at the center of our table for a moment, taking this in. "What if I told you," she said coyly, which made me look up, "that I have all the answers. Oh, yeah. I'm Lucy, Super Little Sis." "I thought you were done with being 'little sister'," I said. "Well no, I just thought of this. I'm Little Sis. I have ALL the answers! I will help you and you can overcome this! Don't ask how or why! I'm Little Sis! I can do anything!" she said triumphantly, which made me laugh. The way she said it, it practically pulled me back in time; back into our old room, sitting on her bed. My eleven-year-old voice now coming through the mouth of my little sister. When my laughter subsided, Lucy's own smile fell away too, and she looked at me seriously. "I can be Super Little Sis, like your Super Big Sis all those years ago, Lois. BUT... I would like to just have the chance to be your sister. Your grown up sister, who is no longer so much younger, and is more like a friend now actually," she said, her gaze boring into mine. "Okay, you win," I said, after a heartfelt moment. "It's...over...between Clark and me," I said, practically choking on the words. As much as I had been writing that it's over and had even told him "I'm through," I had not voiced the fact out loud to anyone. It felt impossible to say, with that lump that was in my throat, blocking the way for those words to come through. It was even harder for me to say that than to say that other truth I was having trouble saying and writing. You know that he's... him. "Over? What? How? Why? When?" she asked, her eyes looking genuinely sad for me and very VERY confused. "He lied to me about something pretty big. Something huge. I thought I knew him. I thought he was this decent, honest, sweet, caring man who loved me so much he would never... NEVER... hurt me. But in the end, he hurt me more than anyone else ever has before. More than Daddy. More than Claude, if you remember him--" "--sure. I met him a few times and you later gave me the cliff's notes version of the whole affair," she said, looking around frantically, not really at me. She looked like she was trying to grasp straws with what I just told her, but was not able to. "What could he have lied about? I…you... Lois, he really was the most perfect man alive. I won't believe he cheated on you," she started. "--no, he didn't do that," I was quick to assure her. "--because I wouldn't believe that anyway. He looks at you... every time... like he is just seeing you for the first time, and he thinks you are just beautiful, wonderful... special. I've never seen anyone look at someone that way, before meeting Clark. He's gone over you, Lois, just gone!" She was not making this easier. That lump in my throat that was there before, when I was trying to get the words out so we could be her Partridge Family version of sisters? Yeah, it was a million times worse now. "Yeah, well," I started, trying to swallow that lump, "for someone who is so gone over me, he had a funny way of showing it. He LIED to me, Lucy. I never lied to him. Never. I always assumed he was honest with me too. I just...trusted him to be honest. Never, never questioned it. I should have though. After Daddy, Paul, Claude, Lex... I've had a hard time trusting men, Lucy; it shouldn't come as much of a surprise." "I know, Lois," she said, touching my arm sweetly again. "Lucy... I just thought he was different. But his lie was the biggest and most hurtful. And I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone ever before. It makes the hurt a million times worse," I said, releasing a shaky breath. "Oh, Lois. Can I ask. What did he--" But I cut her off with a shake of the head. "What does it matter, really? It's not something I can tell you anyway. And this has nothing to do with us, Lucy, you and me. I just--" "--enough said," she said reassuringly. "He lied and you caught him. You figured it out and caught him in the lie," she said, shaking her head as if disbelieving that a breakup could have happened with us. With Lois and Clark. "Well, no, not exactly. I had no clue. He dropped the bomb on me. The other night," I said, closing my eyes, as I had immediately flown back into that night from hell, which started off so wonderfully. "He made this big to-do about our two month anniversary. He wanted to do something special and we went to dinner and then to this quiet, desolate place where he shattered my heart." "So he had lied about something... and then he told you all about it? He couldn't keep it in anymore?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Yeah. Either way he lied," I said to her, like her IQ had just dropped loads of points right before my eyes. "No, but Lois, he wanted you to know. He didn't want the lie there anymore, weighing on him and on your relationship. He wanted a relationship based on truth," she said. This angered me. Why was she taking his side? "He wanted a relationship based on truth? That's funny, because for two years, our entire relationship has been based on a huge lie!" I said. "But not anymore. He wanted to start fresh, because you are in love. He probably wants to spend the rest of his life with you and doesn't want--" "--Lucy, whose side are you ON? You are the one who said we'd be like friends and you are taking the side of a man who lied to me about something MASSIVE. I can't tell you what it is, but you could at least trust me and give ME the benefit of the doubt!" I said, standing up. "No, Lois! I do. I think that for Clark to have lied at all is horrible. I mean, lying is just bad. Especially when you're partners and best friends. And especially when you're dating! He should have been honest with you about, I don't know, whatever, since the moment he met you!" she said, practically begging me to let her in my friendship corner again. But even this wasn't helping. Now I was angry. The more she said, the angrier I got. Even what she said now, genuine as she seemed, angered me, because she was saying he should have been honest from the moment he met me and I knew he couldn't have been. Despite the fact that I feel so stupid and horrible now, finding out, I do realize he couldn't have told me when he first met me. I guess, she was making me, in some small way, understand why he lied... at first, anyway. She had no clue, of course, that that is what she was doing. But she was. And it was making me really mad. I didn't want to understand him. I wanted to be mad at him for his betrayal; for his lack of trust; for LYING. I REALLY hate lying! After I assured her that I was not mad at her (I was lying of course-- well, this kind of lying, the kind that gets your sister to just leave you be when you're all depressed and want to be alone, is okay), she walked with me back to the Planet. I talked to her about her date last night, a nice change of subject. "Lois, I'm going out again this weekend with him. We're just going to a bar where some of his friends will be. You should come! It might be fun! Maybe he has a nice friend who will make getting over Clark a little better. Or at least more fun!" she said excitedly. I was all set to say 'no', but just then, Clark headed out of the Planet. I knew he'd be able to hear us, what with his special... hearing... abilities. I guess I regressed back to the sixth grade, where you tried to make you ex-boyfriend feel like a real fooey for hurting you. "Lucy, that sounds like fun. It'll be like old times; you and me, double-dating. Call me tonight and we'll make a definite plan for Friday," I said, which caused a very confused look to pass over my sister's features. I guess she understood when she saw Clark a moment later. She gave him a sort of smile that said, "I am only smiling out of elementary good breeding, and nothing more; you hurt my sister and I do not forgive all that easily." I was looking at Clark for some kind of a reaction to this news, that I was going on a date. I guess I wanted to see if he finally got the hint that it was over with us. The look I saw though... I wish I hadn't seen. As soon as I looked at him, he looked at the ground, as if he were ashamed of himself (and really, he should be, right!?) and didn't want to bother me. Then his head shot up, and he looked past me, his eyebrows creased in a look of solemn concern. A call for help. He always did that; he must have always heard a call for help. Usually at this point he started muttering some stupid excuse, but since I had initiated a silent treatment, he didn't need to bother. He turned the opposite direction from us and kind of ran, until he turned the corner and was out of my sight. "Wow. He took off fast. He has some nerve. He didn't even really look at you. He should be on his knees every time he sees you begging you to forgive him for being a typical guy!" she said, looking in the direction he just disappeared from. All I could think was, "Well, I'll give him that much. He is NOT your typical guy." And then I went back to work. Speaking of which, I should get BACK to work; you know, do things. I don't think at the end of the day, Perry wants to read my diary. You know? Dear Diary, It's Friday night... late night. Midnight. No after... I guess it's... 2:11 AM, the clock in the kitchen says. Lucy and I went to that club tonight. It was more or less a bore. There was one guy there who was interesting enough, and by that I mean he was capable of saying more than two sentences without trying to make a move or something. His name was Dan something-or-other. He's a detective. I'll admit, part of the reason I kept the conversation going for an hour, like I did, was because I thought it might be nice to have more friends on the inside. Cops. People who can pull a few strings; tell you things. Basically, it was my way of working, or networking, I guess, during my time away from work. Perry would be so proud. I saw getting to know this Dan as an opportunity somewhere down the line for my stories. So that was that. He was okay-looking, too. I am not quite sure he's six feet tall. Almost anyway, though. And as for his body... it seemed okay. He's a cop, after all. Not as nice as... I mean... Well I'm not thinking about him. I won't lie, there were times tonight when I found myself thinking about him. I briefly wondered what he was doing, but shook that thought away, remembering that I don't care. I briefly realized, while this Dan was talking, that Clark was by far better company than him, Lucy, and anyone for that matter, but I quickly reminded myself that he was a liar as well. That put that thought to rest. And I briefly missed him. As much as I tried to shake that one away with some excuse, it just wouldn't go away. My stupid pestering heart; it's like it craves men who are just big liars. Okay, okay, I never craved Lex. I never even really CRAVED Claude or Paul. Clark though... and HIS was the biggest lie! But my heart definitely did have a feeling that I could only describe as longing and craving and sadness... and missing. And if I'm honest with myself, it wasn't a brief feeling or thought. It was weighing on me, in the back of my mind, the entire night. So anyway, it's late and I'm going to bed. I cannot for the life of me remember how my night with Dan ended. I remember saying goodbye and him telling me he'd see me at some point. But I don't think I gave him my phone number. Actually, I know I didn't. He wanted it and I said no. I guess no matter how I feel, it IS too soon for me to be really thinking about other men. Well... Good night. Dear Diary, It's Sunday night. Sunday. One week... It's been one week since that day. One week of seeing him everyday and working beside him, but not walking casually over to his desk, a schoolgirl grin on my face or trying to sneak a kiss in any chance I got... the second the elevator doors closed, or the second Bobby Bigmouth left the car. It's been one week without him, even though he's been within my reach the whole time. All day yesterday and today I thought about what he told me. All week I had made a conscious effort not to REALLY think about it. Sure, the thoughts "Clark lied to me for two years!" and "Clark is Superman!" would come into my head and I would get mad. I'd see him run off to save the day and know that is what he was doing and I would get mad and focus on something else. But yesterday and today, I didn't see him at all; I didn't see anyone. I've been alone at my apartment with nothing but my thoughts. So I allowed myself to really think about what he told me. Clark is Superman. It was Clark who I demanded and hoped to see after I'd turned HIM down in the park so long ago. Two months ago, I had kissed Clark and then told HIM the next day, as Superman, that I wanted to be more than friends with him. With Superman (this can get confusing). The look on his (Superman's) face made a lot more sense now. All those times I had compared him to Superman or held Superman up on his perpetual pedestal. He could do no wrong. Clark always seemed so annoyed that I made Superman into some Greek god. He hated when everyone objectified Superman. I thought his feelings were a mix of annoyance because Superman was a good friend of his and jealousy. In reality, he probably felt extremely uncomfortable and ill at ease hearing himself talked about that way. Clark's not someone who you'd call a sex symbol. I mean, I know he's sexy. But the comments that people would make about Superman (me included)... About his tights and his body... People were saying these shameless things in his presence. Thinking back now, the look that was always on HIS face at those times made more sense now. I always just thought he was annoyed and disapproving. But his look was a mixture of guilt, since no one knew they were essentially saying these things in Superman's presence, and plain old discomfort. I guess I can understand that. I mean, if I heard people talking that way about ME, I would be very angry. Actually, I think I'D blow my cover. He, at least, always maintained his calm and an air of indifference. But mostly what I have been thinking about this weekend, in my time alone with my thoughts is that... I embarrassed myself! Yesterday and today, I was able to think of so many ways in which I completely embarrassed myself! It makes me madder than... well, than the truth (almost anyway). I made a list. I mean check this out: _ _ _ _ _ _ WAYS IN WHICH I, LOIS LANE, HAVE EMBARASSED MYSELF IN THE PAST TWO YEARS BECAUSE OF THIS... SUPER... SECRET: 1. I threw myself at Superman and practically ignored Clark back when I first met them both/him. I looked like a silly, SHALLOW, school girl. 2. I asked Clark if Superman's suit actually came off. I get red thinking about that question NOW. 3. The time when the Planet was held hostage, I muttered the phrase: "Relax, Clark, you're not Superman," or something like that. Hi, how are you, I'm Lois Lane, award-winning investigative reporter. Right. 4. I would bid for Superman at auctions and roll my eyes at Clark when I could catch him looking at me in that way. 5. I never ever saw them together. I knew they were "best friends." But did I question this? No. Because, hi, I'm Lois Lane, award-winning investigative reporter. RIGHT? (Maybe I should turn all the awards in). Hmm.... 6. Clark gets amnesia. Where's Superman? Clark gets his memory back. THERE'S Superman. Saving the world. And RIGHT when Clark got his memory back so he could know what it was Superman was saving us all from. WHAT A FRIGGIN' AMAZING COINCIDENCE! 7. They look a whole lot alike (duh!) and I never even THOUGHT about that. Except once, when I was drugged on love! It took a crazy love spray to make me see the truth, and after, when I was back to myself (for clarification that is back to my award- winning investigative reporter self), I found an excuse to explain why I was so delusional to think that in the first place. Ground, please, I'm begging you; just open up and swallow me whole! 8. Clark would get a far-off look and run away like a frightened kitten and seconds later Superman would save the day. Then HE'D fly away and Clark would return. No ice cream. No cheese. No whatever-his-excuse-was. And I never questioned it. Never questioned his frequent disappearances or anything. Basically... I HAVE LOOKED LIKE A COMPLETE IDIOT FOR TWO YEARS. I HAVE THROWN MYSELF AT A CARDBOARD CUTOUT OF A MAN I HELD AT BAY, EVEN AS A FRIEND. I WAS SHALLOW AND SILLY... AND STUPID! It's the stupidity that embarrasses me the most. The clues were there. They were always there. And I... ahem, investigative reporter who has gathered up her awards and fully intends to return them to the award people who gave them to her... NEVER NOTICED. _ _ _ _ _ _ Okay, so when I wrote the list, I was a little angry. Mostly with myself, though. That was a real change from the rest of the week. I am so mad that I didn't figure this out. I told Clark once that it was our job to look under the surface and expose the naked truth about people. I valued my ability to read people and find out exactly what they were about. I assume everyone is hiding SOMETHING. I am usually right! I can tell you the whole truth about my parents and my sister, about every friend I have and about Perry, Jimmy and all my ex-boyfriends, like Claude or Lex... But Clark. Under the surface, there was a truth so unlikely and amazing, and I never even bothered to look. I just trusted that with HIM, as opposed to everyone else I have ever met, what you saw was what you got. And I loved what I saw. I eventually fell in love with it and FINALLY admitted it to myself and to him. I did not do what I do. What I'm good at. And in the end, HE had to tell me. He had to come down to my level of blindness and stupidity, and tell me, the way you'd tell a child just becoming an adolescent that there's no Santa Clause. No Santa. Just your parents. Only most kids figure this out on their own. For me, I had to be told. No Superman. Just Clark. When I learned the truth about Santa, my life didn't change all that much. But this... I just know; my life will never be the same. Ugh, there's a knock at the door. Who'd visit at this time on a Sunday? Dear Diary, Well, it was Clark. I was definitely surprised to see him. I mean, I have made everything so clear. All week, I kept my back to him and have said barely two words to him and only that was when I absolutely had to. Why can he not take the hint? "What do you want, Clark?" I asked. Instead of answering, he took a step inside and placed his hands on my cheeks and pulled me into a kiss. I guess he figured he tried talking to me all week and it wasn't getting him anywhere, so he should try another tactic. And, okay, I'll admit. I melted a little (a lot) when our lips crushed together. It's been a week of not doing this, though. A girl cannot be helped when she's kissing the man she loves... or used to love last week and was confused about now. My heart just sort of naturally did a little flip flop and then I was gone. Plus, after my time with myself this weekend, I was able to admit that I missed hanging out with him and kissing and hugging him. So instead of doing what I should have done, which was push him off of me, I sort of let him kiss me for a little bit. Just a few minutes... I could feel his hunger and sadness and desperation, and my own sadness and even my anger sort of morphed into a passion as I kissed him back. Our tongues did a dance they knew so well with each other, and our bodies were pressed up against each other, doing their own dance; feeling their own things. Mine was definitely reacting to the kiss. Not that I wanted it to. I just couldn't help it! Oh god... I'm so embarrassed that THIS is how I dealt with my complete anger at him. He somehow closed the door, but kept the kiss going, and I definitely chastised myself when I realized I was moaning his name. The next thing I knew, we were lowering each other (I'm not sure who, if anyone, was leading this move) to the floor, pulling at each other's clothes in complete desperation. I don't know why I let it get that far! Like I said, I would have thought that the second he kissed me, I'd have pushed him off of me like he was a stranger on the subway trying to cop a feel. But I couldn't. He has more power over my body and mind... and okay, my heart... than anyone I've ever met before, and when our lips touched, I lost all self-control and rationale. As we kissed, I started to remember how much I loved being with him. How much I loved walking home with him after work (how much I missed that this week), how much I loved cuddling with him on the couch and bantering with him at work, and how much I really loved kissing him and feeling that closeness that was embedded in our passion and love for each other. As I slipped my hand under his button-up shirt, I was not rewarded with the feel of his skin. My passion-filled mind a haze, I started trying to figure out what the material was that I was feeling. Then it dawned on me. It was the suit. All the hurt and embarrassment and anger came back in a flash. The LIST came to mind, and THEN I pushed him off of me like he was a stranger on the subway trying to cop a feel. "I'm sorry," he said, looking away as I straightened out my own clothes. He looked back at me, his breathing fast. "I'm sorry, Lois. I don't know where that came from. I wasn't planning on... I just wanted to see you and try to talk to you, but when I saw you..." he trailed off. "You felt the need to blindside me with a kiss when we are not even together anymore and I have made it perfectly clear that I want nothing to do with you?" I finished for him. "Lois, you felt it too. I know you did. Tell me you didn't feel something," he said, knowing that I did feel something. It would have been very hard to pretend I didn't, given the way I'd reacted. "Yes, Clark, I felt something. I felt something that reminded me of what we used to have and what things were like before. But that is all a lie," I said, standing up again. He stood up as well and looked at me intensely. "And it doesn't change the way I feel now. The way I've been feeling all week. Which is hurt, angry, embarrassed--" "--embarrassed? Why?" he asked. "Gee, Clark, I don't know. Maybe because you and I were partners, best friends and were DATING and I was a good friend of Superman's and there were clues EVERYWHERE and I never put them together!" "No one put the clues together. Don't feel like you missed this thing that everyone else caught onto and you're stupid or something. The whole world believes this, this--" "--lie?" "Yeah," he said, sounding like he would have preferred to find better wording, but wanted to move on. "Everyone believes it, Lois. Why should YOU be embarrassed ?" "Not everyone was your partner, Clark. Not everyone was your girlfriend!" "I know. But Lois, by the time we started dating, you never would have started thinking twice about anything I had told you about myself. It didn't seem likely that you'd start thinking about it and figure it out on your own." "Exactly. I wouldn't have thought twice about anything I knew about you, Clark, or anything you had told me. But therein lies our problem! How do I know, if we started dating again, that I would THEN know everything about you? I don't think I'll react too well when I find out down the line that you've got another family on Krypton!" He sighed. "Lois, I'm the only survivor of Krypton." "I'm just making a point, Clark. This... it's not going to work! You didn't trust me and now, I don't trust you. You can't have any kind of a relationship without trust. Not friendship and most certainly not love," I finished, taking a deep breath. "Please, get out." "I do trust you," he said, looking at me so intensely now I was forced to maintain eye contact. It was impossible to look away. "I've always trusted you, Lois. I trust you with my life... I trusted YOU to know about this thing, Kryptonite, that could hurt me and know you'd always keep my safety and well-being in mind professionally and personally. I trusted you with my heart, Lois," he said, his voice quivering a little. "I've never let anyone see what I'm REALLY about; what Clark Kent is really like. Even before you knew my secret, Lois, I always let you see ME. I didn't hide myself from you. And I always knew I wanted to trust you with my secret. I trust you with it now. I know, even though you're mad at me, you wouldn't tell anyone about me. I just know that, Lois. I trust it. I never thought I would tell this secret to ANYONE... until I met you." "Then why didn't you tell me, Clark? Was it amusing to watch me humiliate myself for the love of a man that didn't even exist? Were you laughing inside when I brushed you aside for YOU?" "No, Lois. I'd never laugh at you. Don't you know that? I didn't tell you... because it was never a good time. I know that sounds weak. It is weak. But when I first created Superman, I was still trying to create a life for myself. A normal, ordinary life. I wanted to get to know you and work with you, knowing that you'd treat me like any other normal person at work. I wanted to know that our relationship both professionally and personally was based on something that was real. Who I am inside, Lois, that's real. Superman is what people want to see. Not ordinary or normal. A full-time hero with no faults, no emotions, no LIFE. There for everyone. No actual goals, himself... except to be there when he's needed. People, including you, treat him like a hero. Not a real person. What I show the world, Lois, when I'm him, is NOT who I am. Wanting to help and actually helping, which people do see COMES from something in here," he said, touching his chest, "that only a few people see. I'm talking in circles, I know. I just don't know how to get this across," he said, putting his hand through his hair. "No one knows Superman, Lois. A lot of people think they do. But no one does. Well almost no one. My parents know him. YOU know him. That's about it," he finished, looking like he hoped I finally understood. On some level, I guess I did understand, but that didn't take away from the anger and embarrassment I was still feeling. "Superman," I said, sort of wistfully. "I still can't believe this. I can't wrap my mind around it. Clark, I thought of Superman as a friend. Maybe I'm like the rest of society, just like ALL those people who don't see the real man. But I liked Superman as he was-- someone who gave people hope. Someone who stood for TRUTH... and justice. Someone so good-hearted, he GAVE UP living a normal life so he could save everyone he could. A lone figure and hero of millions. Sort of a martyr. I definitely thought *I* knew him and that he was my friend! In a way Clark, I feel like a friend died. I mean, to me, he's gone. It's the same thing," I finished, quietly, feeling tears prickling my eyes. "I know, Lois. I'm so sorry. I never meant for it to get as complicated as this. When I realized you had feelings for him, everything became so difficult. There was never a good time to tell you, it seemed. Especially since you didn't appear to have feelings for me. But when you chose me--" he trailed off. "When I chose you, when you WON, you finally decided I was worthy of knowing the truth. Although you do realize my decision was not even based on the truth," I said, hands on hips at this point. "It was, though. Lois, you chose me. Just an ordinary guy and a friend over what you thought was the most romantic thing in the world—an unattainable superhero. If I had told you the truth, but you were still thinking you loved him and not me, then where would either of us be? What would you have done then?" "I don't think you are seeing the big picture, Clark. You LIED to me. You say you care about me, yet--" "Lois, I care about you more than you'll ever know. I would lay down my life for you--" "You know, you said that to me once before. Two months ago," I said. "It was true then and it's true now--" "--except that nothing can hurt you. It's a noble thing to say... if it was true. But bullets bounce off of you. I mean, how many bullets have you ever been hit with? And you're still here! You could be attacked by an army with guns and bombs and knives and you would still come out intact with not a scratch on you. You're super strong and you can't be hurt; you might as well say things like that and save whoever you can. What else would you do with those powers?" I said, walking toward the window, looking out. When he said nothing, I looked back over my shoulder to see him looking at me, his mouth open, a stricken look in his eyes. "Before you knew *I* was Superman, he was this amazing hero in your eyes. Always would be. Now that you know it's me, you're practically saying he's... I'M... a coward. Not brave, not heroic. Just an alien with freakish powers he might as well use to do what he can do... You don't really think I'm any kind of hero at all, do you?" I didn't say anything. I should have, because I don't think that at all. What I had said to him was just out of anger and hurt. But I didn't say anything just then. I was feeling too many conflicted emotions. After a minute, he walked out the door, not saying another word. As I get ready to start yet another week of work with HIM, I am just sitting here, writing, alone... And I can't get it out of my head. What, you ask? His revelation? No. His speech about trust and about me KNOWING him so well? No. I guess I'm referring to the reason my lips are still tingling, my heart is still racing, my stomach is jumping, and my cheeks are still hot. That kiss. Ugh. Well, goodnight. Dear Diary, So I decided to check my email before heading to work. And all I have to say is: My mother is crazy. I honestly believe this. _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Lane, Mom Ih8samlane@freemail.com RECEIVED: Sunday, May 26, 4:17 PM LOIS! I'VE JUST GOTTEN E-MAIL! LUCY SET IT UP FOR ME. NOW WE CAN TALK MORE. I AM SO EXCITED! A LOT OF MY FRIENDS HAVE E-MAIL TOO. I WILL ASK THEM FOR THEIR E-MAIL #S AND WRITE THEM! LUCY IS RIGHT HERE. SHE SAYS HI. Oh, she told me not to write in capital letters because it would look like I am yelling. I'm not. Yelling, that is. Or writing in capital letters anymore, for that matter. Do capital letters really equal yelling? I thought exclamation points would do that. Hi Lois! HI LOIS. See? Anyway. So Lucy tells me that you broke up with the Clark Kent that you work with. Last month we had lunch and you two looked positively nauseating, which of course led me to call my wedding planner and put her on red alert. I know you don't talk to me about these things and that we don't talk very often, but I am concerned. He is very nice and would definitely give you good- looking children. Plus, he seems to genuinely love you, which let me tell you, doesn't happen everyday. Your father, before we got married, once told me that he would look at me and think I was DEFINITELY a suitable wife and would DEFINITELY do. He, back then, always said "definitely" when he wanted to really make a point. I thought this was romantic. But I was young and stupid (obviously). Not that I regret it. I mean I have my Lois and my Lucy because of my marriage. I wish, though, that I could have gotten you two without wasting so many years with HIM. But that's not the point, I guess. Oh, Lucy's making me a frozen margarita! How nice! But what I'm trying to say is Clark's more romantic than that. He'd never tell you you were suitable and would do. He seems like the mushy kind who'd actually say something like "I live to love you, my darling," or something. Am I right? Love, Mom PS- I heard from your Aunt Sissy, who I still talk to, of course, that your father and his cyborg broke up. HA! Maybe she "crashed" in the middle of... well never mind. BYE! _ _ _ _ _ _ It's only 7:01 AM on Monday. I have a feeling it's going to be a loooong week. Dear Diary, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! Things have just gone from bad to worse in SO many ways! It's Monday night now, and my mind is reeling and my thoughts and feelings are all a complete mess. I just want to jump to the awful second half of my day-- but I should go in order, right? I know, I know, every time I write in this, when my life is in shambles (again!), I remind myself about a hundred times to just write everything in order, so I can clear my head. But the reminders really do help! Okay, so... When I came in this morning, Clark was already here. Okay, I guess whenever he can make up for his disappearances or Superman- related tardiness, he does. I guess it is fair (as I've re-read what I wrote about this LAST Monday) that he shares a byline with me and gets paid to do this job, because his life is twice as hectic as everyone else's and he always does his share of work and never misses a deadline. Plus, he usually brings back a Superman exclusive for us upon his return. But anyway, I'm sidetracking. So he was at work already when I got here. When I got to my desk, I thought it was odd that he hadn't tried his daily apology/plea to "talk" yet. He usually corners me within our first five shared minutes in the news room. I thought maybe he hadn't noticed me. It didn't bother me. I swear it didn't. I didn't WANT him to talk to me, right? I was feeling overwhelming happiness that he had finally gotten the hint! At least I think that's what that feeling in the pit of my stomach was. (Can overwhelming happiness make you feel nauseous? Hmm...) Anyway, I just sat at my desk and got right to work. Until about 12, when someone walked over to my desk and said: "Miss Lane? This gentleman is here to see you, but he didn't have an appointment. He said he knew you." I finished writing something and looked up. "Dan!" I said, shocked. How had that Dan-guy from Friday night found me? I had no idea. "Lois, I said I'd see you again sometime. I just decided to make sometime sooner, rather than later," Dan said, smiling. The security guard that had escorted him to my desk walked away. "Dan... How did you find me?" I asked, when he was gone. "You mentioned you worked for the Daily Planet. I scoured Friday's paper in search of a 'Lois' that worked here and decided you were, in fact, THE Lois Lane. I don't know how I didn't put that together on Friday at the bar. But when I read some of your work, I could HEAR your voice in the words. I just knew," he finished, shrugging. "Oh," I said, blushing. Not because he'd gone though all that to find me, but more because he'd mentioned that we were out together Friday kind of loudly. It definitely sounded like a date. Nothing happened, but that is definitely what it sounded like. And he said it loud enough for anyone who might be listening to hear. Especially someone with super-hearing. This shouldn't have bothered me. I mean, it's not like we are really still together anymore. But I turned red all the same and found myself hoping he wasn't listening. A quick look in his direction made me think he might have been listening. He wasn't typing, but was just kind of idly looking down at his desk. "Anyway, I'm here to take you to lunch," he said, smiling. He has a sort of nice smile, I guess. Not a thousand kilowatt, adorable boyish grin. Uh, but who has that? No one I know. Oh, I keep forgetting, this is just a diary. Clark does. Clark has a grin like that. But I'm mad at Clark, so moving on... "You know, actually, I have a lunch appointment today," I said apologetically. "No you don't," Jimmy said, walking over. I looked at him like I wanted to kill him. "I just put something in your calendar for you and saw that it's pretty open all day," Jimmy said, completely ignorantly. Luckily he's like an annoying little brother, so I wouldn't actually ever kill him. I would just want to. Like at that moment. "Well, there you have it. You're free," Dan said. "I know a great place," he said, and before I knew it, I had grabbed my purse and allowed him to lead me out of the newsroom. Before the elevator doors closed, I saw Clark sit back in his chair, still looking downward. And I won't even lie about it-- I felt bad. Really bad. For him. For perhaps the first time all week. Lunch was enlightening at least, if not completely annoying. Dan and I, I quickly realized, didn't have all that much in common. His job remains to be my only interest. And the only thing he enlightened me on, work-wise, was that he was beginning to close in on some concrete evidence to link the current mayor with some sketchy going ons from last month. He said he MIGHT allow me to see his notes and clue me in when the big bust happens, so I could get the exclusive. "But there'll be lots of people wanting that story, though. You'll have to be very persuasive to make me give it to YOU," he said coyly. Can you believe the nerve of some people? He's definitely the type to call a woman suitable and tell them they'd definitely do as a wife. But instead of rolling my eyes, I smiled flirtatiously. It was a story, after all. And news was slow. It had been slow for awhile. I remember, in that moment, wishing that news would just pick up already. This was when things got really REALLY bad. He leaned in to kiss me when I was looking at the table uncomfortably, like it was the most fascinating thing on earth. I nearly screamed when I realized his lips were on mine. I remember thinking it was absolutely awful! I pushed him away immediately... "What was that!?" I asked. "I'm sorry. I've just wanted to do that since I met you Friday," he said, not looking sorry at all. "Well, you only met me FRIDAY," I pointed out, even though he had already pointed this out a second before. "It's a little fast for me, okay?" "Okay. I'll try to control myself from now on," he said, winking at me. I looked around, paranoid that Clark was standing in the doorway to the restaurant or at another table. He wasn't anywhere that I could see. But I still felt very paranoid and continued glancing around, even as Dan changed the subject and started babbling about everything under the sun. None of which was remotely fascinating enough to even hold my attention. Something did grab my attention though. On the little television at the corner of the bar at the restaurant, I heard that special report news music and stood up and walked over. "We interrupt this program to bring you an LNN Special Report. Two fires have simultaneously started in downtown Metropolis. One at a daycare center and the other at a nursing home. Superman put the fire at the daycare center out and everyone seems to be fine. One child is missing, and the police are looking into this now. Some residents and administration at The Sunny View Home for the Elderly have been rushed to the hospital, their injuries ranging from third degree burns to smoke inhalation. Superman arrived on the scene as soon as he left the daycare center, but not quickly enough to bring everyone to safety as he would have undoubtedly wanted. One patient has been declared dead at this time..." I felt like something inside of me just froze. My heart was in my throat, and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick. Whatever else the newscaster said, I missed, as a loud silence rung in my head; I just stared at the television, my mouth gaping open. I could not believe what happened. That people had been killed. Sidled along those horrible feelings for those poor people, was a realization that this was the first time I was hearing about Clark doing something massive since I learned his secret; and I think I was understanding a part of his life that was bigger than what he could do. And that was what he couldn't do. And I suspected he blamed himself for those things, even though he had no control over them. And suddenly I wanted to cry. For those people... and for my best friend. I ordered Dan to drive me back to the Planet, where I jumped in my car and drove to the scene of the fires. The daycare center and nursing home were about a block away from one another. When I got to the site, it was awful. There was thick, acrid smoke in the air, and the area directly around the buildings was restricted. I could see, through the smoke, by the daycare center, a glimmer of red and blue and I ran toward it, holding my press badge up to the officers. They still didn't want to let me in, but I was very forceful. "Superman," I said, when I was close to him. He looked over at me, and I sucked in my breath. His face, his expression, his eyes... they looked... Haunted. He crossed his arms, and I could have sworn his hands were shaking. He walked over to me, but didn't say a word. "Are you..." I trailed off, his eyes scaring me. They looked hard and angry. "I can't give a statement. I won't," he said, his eyes unblinking, looking at me, but not really seeing me. "I don't want a statement," I said, appalled he would even think that. "You shouldn't be here. The smoke," he said, looking briefly at the destruction around him as if removed from the situation. I knew, however, from the hardness of his features and the look in his eyes, that he was definitely not removed. "Well, I'm staying," I said. He sighed and walked a few steps away and came back with an oxygen mask for me to wear. I knew I probably looked foolish, but the smoke WAS starting to get to me. I pulled the mask aside to ask, "What happened?" I put the mask back on. He shrugged, sadly. "I don't really know," he said. I looked in his eyes. Closely. Intensely. And then I saw it. The blame. He was angry-- at himself. He was feeling responsible. I had suspected he might, but to see it tore at my heart. I walked a few steps so I was right in front of him. I looked around and made sure no one was near us, and I pulled the mask aside again. "Clark, nothing that happened here today is your fault, you know that, right?" I asked. He looked down. "You helped so many people today. You can't help everyone--" He looked up at me and smiled a hard smile, which made me feel cold inside. "Don't worry about me, Lois," he said. "I'm invulnerable, remember?" And then he walked away. If there's one thing I hate, it's to have my own words used against me. But he was hurting, and I was finally ready to let go of my own hurt and anger. And pride. Ready to realize what was more important. And, the truth is, ever since that day that he told me the truth, I've regretted a few of the things I said to him-- namely that one thing, about him being invulnerable. I had basically told him that he had no right to FEEL. Anything. I've also, since that day, implied he was like some robot. That because he couldn't be physically hurt, he was not a hero. And I was starting to suspect this was his worst fear. To be treated like that, I mean. And to be treated like that by someone you love-- I shivered as I realized how much I've been hurting him. And I ached when I thought about how much he was hurting right now and how I couldn't even really be there for him. He didn't come back to the office for the rest of the day. He was still helping out downtown, from what I could tell. Reports on the news were indicating that he was not talking to anyone about what happened. And why would he? What he must have seen... the horrors... he couldn't talk about it. I covered for him with Perry, telling him that Clark was out at the scene of the fires, trying to find out what he could and talk to Superman. We were able to find out that that missing child was found. He was fine. A little smoke inhalation, but he was fine. He had run out of the building and hid when the commotion started and no one had known where he was. Thank god he was not INSIDE. That's all I have to say. The whole newsroom was rattled by what had happened, and people began to gossip about theories. Terrorist attack... war threat... someone trying to send out a message, but what? No one knew. All anyone knew was the two huge fires started at EXACTLY the same time, down the street from one another. No one was thinking this some coincidence. Definitely not me. After I had written up the front page story about the fires, Perry told me to go home. And really, there was nothing else I could do at work for the day. But for some reason, going home did not seem appealing in the least bit. That's where I am now--home. Writing about this awful day. Reliving it. And let's see what has happened: 1. Clark finally stopped trying to get me to talk to him and I was not, as you might imagine, thrilled about it at all. 2. Dan took me to lunch, which was flaunted in front of Clark and the whole newsroom. 3. Dan KISSED me. 4. Said kiss forced me to realize something that I will reveal for the first time, even to myself, right here, in this list: there is only one man I want to kiss. Ever. And it's NOT Dan What's-his-name. 5. Two fires broke out at the same time and Superman/Clark couldn't save everyone and some people were hurt and some died, he feels responsible, and no one has any idea who did it. 6. Clark and I are still broken. Broken up, broken apart, suffering from broken hearts. Just... broken. I'm feeling suddenly claustrophobic at home. I think I'll go for a walk. Dear Diary, This has been a very confusing week, as you know. One thing is certain right now, though: when my heart is confused, my feet seem to take over, which was how I found myself on Clark's doorstep twenty minutes ago. I had just been walking, wanting to get away from my apartment. On my walk, I realized how much I missed Clark. How much I wanted to be there for him. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. He's ALWAYS been there for me. He's always been a shoulder to lean on (or cry on), a friend to walk with and talk with and joke with and banter with and work with and share with, someone to watch a movie with, or share stories with (or novels... I haven't worked on my novel in about a week... he must be my muse or something, because I never seem to be able to work on it when things with us are bad)... I just, I miss him! Today... I felt for him. I wanted to be there for him. And the fires! They were just the topping on the cake-- all day, I've been feeling something... I guess after our confrontation at my apartment last night, I let go of part of that anger because I had let it out. It didn't change the magnitude of what he told me last week. His secret... it is major. And I don't trust easily. I know that. Everyone knows that. Knowing CLARK lied to me... I can't just suck that up and move on, like nothing happened. Right now, I want to be his friend, though. I'm willing to push aside my anger and hurt to be his friend. Plus... I miss his friendship. I have this feeling deep down that I can't really interpret right now; I can't figure out WHAT it means. It could be the answer to whether or not I can trust him again and we can be together again. I don't know... But for now, I have to be his friend. If he were beyond mad at me, and then realized that something happened and I really needed a friend, he would definitely push the anger aside to be there for me. I just know it. Look at what happened after my almost-wedding to Lex! Clark and I were not even on speaking terms! I was mad at him; he was mad at me; we were so angry with each other. But when I turned around, he was there. Open arms. My best friend. I looked up when I realized I was at Clark's apartment. I couldn't believe I had walked there. My thoughts had been in so many places, I wasn't even thinking about where I was walking. But there I was. At his door. A door I knew I could just walk right through and he wouldn't care; a door for the past two months I really did walk through, without knocking. But tonight, I knocked. After about ten minutes, I gave up. I have no idea if he was home and wanted to be left alone or if he was somewhere else. But I walked back home with a sad, defeated feeling nonetheless. You know, I used to pride myself as being a self-sufficient woman who knew what she wanted at all times and went after it with a clear mind. Now: 1. My mind is a train wreck. 2. I can't write MY novel whenever I fight with the man I love. 3. I have no idea what I want, and so therefore have no clue how to really go after it. ...Oh my god... 4. And I think my new best friend is my diary! Goodnight- Dear Diary, Maybe it's my whole family. They're ALL nuts! Check out this email I got from my cousin Cindy: _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Swift, Cindy RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 28, 8:21 AM HI Lois! It's Cindy! Your cousin! Your mom told me that Lucy told her how to get email, and then she told me, and now I have it too! I don't know why anyone didn't tell me this before! We could have talked A LOT more! Your mom told me about you and your boyfriend calling it quits. How sad! I was hoping to be your maid of honor!! Hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink! Hope everything's going swimmingly! Now that we're both single, maybe we can hit some singles bars together! Ta ta for now! :-D Cindy _ _ _ _ _ _ As if that weren't enough, it seems Linda King had decided to get in touch with me now, as well. _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: King, Linda RECEIVED: Monday, May 28, 11:59 PM Why hello, Lois. I hope you're doing well! It's been so long since I last saw you! I am actually planning a trip to Metropolis this coming weekend! We'll just HAVE to get together! I swear, the trip has NOTHING to do with me finding out from a little bird that Clark Kent is single again! Oh, Lois, you never could keep a man longer than two months. Maybe when we get together, I'll give you some advice on how to better accomplish that. Cheers, Linda! _ _ _ _ _ _ I hate my life. Linda's going to be in town in four days! The only thing that would REALLY top this horrible week off would be a large family reunion! _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Swift, Cindy FROM: Lane, Lois SENT: Tuesday, May 28, 8:45 AM This email address is for work-related matters only and the intended recipient could not receive it. This email is from The Daily Planet's IT Team. Please refrain from emailing the intended recipient again, unless it is work-related. NOTE: Your email address will be placed on red-alert. Sincerely, Daily Planet Internet Technology Department _ _ _ _ _ _ I know, I know. It's not the nicest thing to do. But you don't know this girl! She is very annoying! _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: King, Linda FROM: Lane, Lois SENT: Tuesday, May 28, 8:47 AM This email address is for work-related matters only and the intended recipient could not receive it. This email is from The Daily Planet's IT Team. Please refrain from emailing the intended recipient again, unless it is work-related. NOTE: Your email address will be placed on red-alert. Sincerely, Daily Planet Internet Technology Department _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: King, Linda RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 28, 10:00 AM Very clever, Lois. See you this weekend! _ _ _ _ _ _ Some people! _ _ _ _ _ _ TO: Lane, Lois FROM: Swift, Cindy RECEIVED: Tuesday, May 28, 10:02 AM Dear the Daily Planet Internet Technology Department (IT Team), I am so sorry for writing a non-work-related email to my cousin, Lois. I just haven't talked to her in awhile and her mom said it would be a good way to talk to her more. I am not familiar with the rules of email writing yet. I just got email yesterday. Again, I apologize. Does this mean I am on red alert and can't send emails to anyone? Even my cousin Lucy who does not work at the Daily Planet? Please write back, Cindy- _ _ _ _ _ _ Okay, well I needed a good laugh. Dear Diary, I have a theory. About who started the fires, I mean. It's Friday now. As in one week and five days since I told Clark we're through. Anyway, I have spent the last few days trying to crack this whole thing open. There have been strange things happening since the fire. Tuesday, the day after the fire, the Metropolis Star's front page headline read: "SUPERMAN OR GOD?" and the article went on to talk about how Superman knew about both fires, but attended first to the daycare center, a decision which "killed" three people and left others very seriously injured. It told the stories of the people who had died. A young woman who worked on the staff at the nursing home among them. The article opened up with the line from a family member of one of the victims, "I just kept wondering why Superman didn't save her; he was right there!" It went on to say that Superman picks and chooses who to save. The article theorized that he "balances life on some Kryptonian hierarchy". It was positively nauseating. My heart fell when I saw Clark's expression drop as he read the article, which was on his desk Tuesday morning. I didn't realize that Jimmy had put it there, wanting everyone to "see the trash being sold on the stands." That issue sold twice as much as our issue, which had the headline "TWIN INFERNOS LIGHT UP METROPOLIS: ARSON SUSPECTED". Apparently, people prefer to read garbage as opposed to real news. If that wasn't bad enough, some Planet employees started speculating about whether or not Superman does think some lives are more important than others. They were wondering if he made choices about who to save. Surely, they reasoned, he must-- and the amount of people and families that were devastated by his decisions was just an afterthought. My suggestion that they all pack up and go work at the Star was met with snide comments about how I needn't worry; Superman would always choose me, even over a bus of little schoolchildren. The whole conversation was completely asinine to me and it didn't even seem worth it to reason with these people, so I walked away. But this has been the way most conversations in Metropolis have been going this week. People are completely buying into this propaganda. It probably just helps them to feel better about themselves-- and to feel like they are better than him. I suggested to Perry that we write an editorial to argue it, but he said they were not slandering Superman. What they were printing was not even considered tabloid trash. I was appalled to hear this, of course, but understood a minute later when Perry explained that all they did was print facts and give a different angle about what the facts meant than we did. And people have always loved to have a scapegoat. For the first time since his arrival, it looked like Superman was fulfilling that role. Blame was being put on him and everyone was starting to believe it was true. Especially Clark. I've never seen someone walk around like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders more than him this week. And why not? He does whatever he can and all people can seem to do is hold against him what he can't do. And while the Daily Planet still prints stories that glorify him and emphasize how much he helped at those fires and the death rate had he not helped at all, people just prefer to read the other paper. The other headline. The horrible, horrible lies. On Wednesday, something suspicious happened. At least I think it was suspicious. I don't think this, like the fires, is just a coincidence. Two cars "lost control of their brakes at the same time" on different sides of the city, and were heading (surprise!) for a cliff. It happened so quickly, that Superman was able to catch one car and save its inhabitants, while the other car plummeted, killing an old man. The Metropolis Star (surprise!) had an edition out an hour later; they just happened to have reporters at both sites. The story in their afternoon edition stated that Superman once again played God, and then told the sob story about this old man going to see his granddaughter's recital. There were quotes from the teary nine-year-old (of course!) and a photo that was taken of Superman from who knows when, showing him shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. The photo was supposed to imply, I suppose, that Superman watched the car fall off the cliff and shrugged his shoulders in an "Oh, well" manner. I'm about ready to scream! BUT… not until I prove that my theory is correct. The theory? That The Metropolis Star is behind these "coincidences." Once, about two years ago, when Preston Carpente