Our Happy Ending

By Pam Jernigan <pamjernigan@gmail.com>

Rated PG

Submitted August 2016

Summary: Lois has officially disappeared, and Clark is officially
homeless... but Lyn and Joe have finally found a way to be
together. They face the acid test: will any of her former
colleagues see through Lyn's disguise?

Story Size: 3,583 words (19Kb as text)

Author's note: This is the sixth and final part of the "My
Interview" series, which are in order: "My Interview with
Superman," "My Date with Lyn," "My Televison Debut," "My
Big Goodbye" and "Our Little Dilemma." Originally posted on
the message boards in 2010. Yeah, I'm a little slow sometimes.

***

It's not easy to look interested and act polite. To dutifully
fulfill the responsibilities of my old life when I desperately
want to be immersed in the new one. It's a good cause and I
don't mind fundraising for it -- in theory -- but right now I
just want to be home. I sneak a super fast look at the clock on
the rear wall of the auditorium -- another hour before I can
decently leave.

Unless some disaster happens, of course. But no matter how bored
I am, I just can't wish for something awful to happen. Anyway,
that would only keep me away from Lyn longer. I can't help
smiling at the thought of her; I hope I don't look too goofy. I
figure I'm entitled, though. The woman I love has agreed to
marry me (not that I really had any doubts about that part), and
now, finally, I can see how we're going to be able to pull this
off. To be together, and have a private life.&nbsp;

There are still some practical problems. For one thing, money. It
would help if either one of us had a paying job. I quit the
Planet -- not like I was doing much good work there, anyway, and
it made it too easy for people to spy on me. The Drozny Report
has the potential to make money, but it's not there yet. We're
still focused on building up traffic so we can get advertisers to
pay good rates. We both had some money saved up. Lyn cleared out
her Lois Lane bank account when she dropped the name. I'll do
the same for the Clark Kent account, although that balance
dropped quite a bit when I used most of it to buy a modest
engagement ring for Lyn.

The remainder of the funds, though, will be deposited into Lyn's
new account. We need to get my new name on that account; maybe
Monday we'll have time to visit the bank. A joint account for
Lyn Drozny and Joe Spencer sounds wonderful to me.

Before that, though, we need to hunt up a justice of the peace or
something... I'm getting tired of sleeping on the sofa.&nbsp;

Still... my smile fades a bit; I wish I could offer her something
fancier than a courthouse wedding. But the Lane family doesn't
know Lyn Drozny, and they do know Clark Kent, so having them
there would pretty much ruin the whole "secret" part of our
secret life. Neither one of us is willing to lose that.

A round of applause alerts me that the speech is finished. I join
in, politely, having very little idea what the speaker had been
talking about. Something about literacy, I presume, since that's
the charity being promoted. I force myself to pay attention now.
With the conclusion of the speeches, it's time to mingle.
There's a buffet and a wine bar, but they're only incidental
attractions. One of the reasons these people paid money to be
here is because they wanted the opportunity to chat with me.

This part of my life still seems bizarre. To me, I'm just a
farmboy from Kansas. But Superman is larger than life, and people
want to say hi, shake my hand, maybe get a picture taken. It used
to make me uncomfortable, but Lyn told me that this is just
another way I can use my abilities to help. Less dramatic than
rescues, true, but important all the same. Charities like this
can do things I can't. I can save kids from gang fights;
learning to read can save them from gangs altogether. If talking
to me is going to make people more likely to donate money to the
cause, then let them talk.&nbsp;

I don't know how many people I talk to -- they all blur
together. I'm talking to an older man when my hearing catches
something. Something familiar. Something that's not supposed to
be here.

I glance around casually, still listening to the story about the
guy's grandson. Over there, in the corner, I catch a glimpse of
bright electric blue. It's a dress... sleeveless... the woman is
facing away from me, giving me a great view of the back of her
neck. Her pale skin almost glows, between the blue of the dress
and the bright coppery red curls cut close to her head.

Where did she get that dress? No, wait, what I really want to
know is, why is she here? She shifts position and I catch a
glimpse of her face and her new fashionable glasses. Not that I
needed the confirmation. I'd know her heartbeat anywhere.

I can't decide whether to be glad to see her, or terrified that
she's here. Maybe both. There are any number of people in this
room who know Lois Lane. And if any of them recognize her...
everything we've worked for is lost.

I'm still surrounded by potential donors; I can't just give
them the brush-off. Hello, ma'am, good to meet you, isn't it a
lovely night, literacy is great, and if you'd like to join me in
rescuing kids, write a check and give it to that lady right over
there, thanks. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Lyn has been slowly working her way across the room towards me. I
don't even want to know how she got in here tonight. I'm
constantly aware of her, but I don't dare listen in on her
conversations. The loose crowd around me is dwindling. If she
heads for the restrooms or anywhere else that's semi-private, I
might have to go join her, just long enough to ask what she
thinks she's doing.

Although I know what she'll say. We've had this conversation
before. If we're going to stay near Metropolis, and if "Lyn
Drozny" is going to cover any local events at all, at some
point, she'll run into her/our former colleagues. She already
has, actually, and the disguise held up just fine, although Ralph
Finkelstein is not the sharpest knife in the drawer at the best
of times so I don't really think that proves anything.

In theory, I agree with her. Sooner or later, we'll need to test
this. I'd just prefer if it were later. We haven't even gotten
married yet, and I was looking forward to a few quiet honeymoon
weeks. After the trauma of losing my apartment, is that too much
to ask?

Apparently, it is.

The crowd has faded away, leaving me facing a familiar person. I
smile at him. "Perry! It's good to see you."

He steps up and shakes my hand. "Likewise, Clark, likewise. Good
turnout tonight, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I think so." It's a relief to talk to someone who
doesn't see me as some sort of demigod, but also nerve-wracking
since he's the most likely person to see through Lyn. I hope she
steers clear a little while longer. "I hope they make their
target. So, how are things in the Mayor's office?"

He smiles. "Could be worse. How are you?"

The question doesn't sound entirely casual. "I'm fine."

"Ah, good. I was worried after, you know, that bombing the other
day."

The one that burned out my old apartment, I assume. I have to
tread carefully here. Officially, I'm devastated. I let my smile
fade. "Yeah. Well, at least no one was hurt."

"But you, Clark -- you lost all your things. I know you said you
didn't want to be a threat to your neighbors but you shouldn't
have to be homeless. Well, the city should have done a better job
looking out for you, and I intend to change some things. Give us
a few weeks, and you should be able to move into a new place,
with top-notch security to keep an eye on things."

I smile, a little. The last thing I want is more watchful eyes on
me. "Thanks, Perry, but I couldn't accept."

"Are you sure? You know, the whole thing has made me think;
we've been taking advantage of your good nature."

That's unexpected. "What do you mean?"

"You do so much for Metropolis, and what do you get in return?
Not only didn't we protect your place from fire-bombing, we
didn't even protect your privacy from tabloids. I should have
done something about that a long time ago, Clark."

"It's not necessary..." It's hard to know how to respond to
that, because he's right, but in the end it's worked out so
much better than that. Maybe a version of the truth will do. "I
have found more privacy this way. There's no need to spend city
funds."

"Yeah, and the city council wouldn't have gone along with it
before, I'm afraid, but now..." He grins at me. "Now they're
all afraid that you'll up and move somewhere else. So I figure
we can finally get some compensation for you."

"Perry, I wouldn't abandon Metropolis." Not exactly, anyway.
Lyn and I have a place just across Hob's Bay, which is
technically in another state, but it's still close. "Really,
it's better if nobody knows where I live."

He looks at me appraisingly. Did I give something away? "I've
heard rumors of a hideout or fortress or something, somewhere in
the Arctic."

Rumors started by Lyn. I smile. "I can neither confirm nor deny
that."&nbsp;

He shrugs, grinning slightly. "Understood. Can't say as I blame
you. Still, we owe you something."

"Perry--"

He overrides my objection. "You're practically an employee of
the city, son. You deserve some compensation for your time and
services. And now that people are nervous about you leaving, I'm
sure I can get them to pony up something decent."

A woman's voice breaks in. "Excellent idea," she says in a
charming Russian accent. "Good evening, Superman, Mr. White. I
am sorry to intrude, but I've long thought that some sort of
recompense would be only appropriate."

I close my eyes briefly to fortify myself, and then look in her
direction. For some reason I can't explain, the brilliant blue
works really well with her red hair. I admit, with the hair, the
outfit, and the fashionable glasses, she doesn't look much like
she used to. Still beautiful, but in a very different way.&nbsp;

Perry gazes at her, raising one eyebrow. "Do I know you,
Miss?"&nbsp;

She gives him a brilliant smile. "My apologies. I've read all
about you, so I feel as if I know you, but I suppose we haven't
actually met."

He glances at me, then back at her. Time seems to stretch as he
tries to place her. His heart rate stays even. I hold my breath.
"And you are?"

She extends a graceful hand for a handshake. "Lyn Drozny."

He shakes her hand, displaying only mild surprise as he matches
her face to her name. "It's a pleasure. Ms. Drozny, you did a
good job with that interview last year."

She smiles graciously. "A very nice compliment, coming from the
great Planet editor. Thank you. I had a very good teacher, early
in my career. And the pleasure is mine."

"Superman," she turns in my direction. "It is good to see
you." She switches to Russian to add, quickly, "See, he didn't
recognize me."

It's a good thing I'm used to controlling myself when I'm in
the suit, or I might give in to the need to kiss her. I nod,
replying quietly in the same language. "Not yet, anyway. Can we
get out of here before he does?"

"In a minute." Switching back to English, she adds, "I do hope
you intend to take Mr. White up on his offer."

I'd almost forgotten it. "I don't think I could."

"Nonsense," Perry says, looking approvingly at his new ally,
Lyn. "We owe you."

I fold my arms over my chest. The whole idea makes me
uncomfortable, though neither of them seem to care. "I don't do
this for money."

"Of course not," Lyn says soothingly. "That's obvious to all,
after these last few years. And yet, you must have some expenses
-- even if you no longer pay rent."

And especially if I do. I meet her eyes, realizing where she's
going with this. "Well, I suppose... but I don't have a bank
account. So I don't think it would work."

Perry waves a hand dismissively. "We can manage something..."

"May I make a suggestion?" Lyn asks.

"By all means, Ms. Drozny."

"Well, if the question is getting money to Superman by check,
perhaps I can help. Are you familiar with my website, Mr.
White?"

Perry shakes his head. "Not really."

"I call it the Drozny Report; I aggregate news stories and do
original reporting as well. Superman is one of my regular
sources."

He nods. "Oh, yes, I've heard something about it. It's an
interesting idea. James Olsen was talking about putting the Daily
Planet online, as well. Says the Internet is the wave of the
future -- but of course he made his fortune in computers, so
he's predisposed to like things like that."

"I think he's correct. More and more people are online every
year, so we must be ready--" She stops there but I can tell
it's an effort. She takes a breath and smiles. "Forgive me, I
get carried away. But to get back to the point... I'd just like
to make the suggestion that checks for Superman be sent to him by
way of me. I can deposit them in my business account, and then
pass the cash to Superman. Or hold it for him, if he prefers,"
she adds, no doubt to forestall the objection she knew I'd want
to make.

I make it anyway. "I don't need much cash -- and I can't very
well store it in my mattress if I haven't got a mattress."

She frowns thoughtfully. "What if I set up a savings account,
and give you an ATM card that you can carry, Superman?"

"That sounds like it would work," Perry says, sounding
enthusiastic. "No paper trail with your name attached, yet
you'd have full access." He pauses, briefly. "Assuming you
trust Ms. Drozny, that is."

I can't help smiling a little at that. "With my life. And
certainly with my money." The full measure of her sneakiness is
still dawning on me. A steady source of income would be very
useful, since her website isn't yet popular enough to pull in
large ad revenues. She deposits the money. I can make withdrawals
from anywhere in the country. Then we use the cash to buy
groceries, or pay our rent with it, or whatever we need.&nbsp;

Perry's eyebrows climb at that response, but he doesn't
comment. "Well, all right then. I'll get working on the City
Council Monday morning."

Lyn hands him one of her business cards. "Feel free to call at
any time, Mr. Mayor." After one startled moment I realize she's
carrying a small clutch purse in her left hand. It must have been
hidden by her side before.&nbsp;

It occurs to me that Perry might be thinking things are more
personal between me and Lyn than we want people to know. Need to
nip that in the bud. I point to her left hand. "Is that what it
looks like, Ms. Drozny?"

She looks down, and displays her engagement ring with a wide
smile. "My boyfriend Joe proposed to me. We'll be getting
married soon."

I grin. "So, he finally worked up his nerve, did he?"

She grins back. "He'd been waiting for the perfect moment."

Perry looks pleased, in a polite sort of way. "Congratulations!
So, if you don't mind me asking, Ms. Drozny, when's the
wedding?"

She looks at Perry and says, "We're not doing anything fancy.
In fact, we were thinking of grabbing a flight to Las Vegas
tonight and just going for it."

We were? I wasn't, but it sounds like a fantastic idea. And she
can grab me anytime she likes.

Perry chuckles. "Sounds good. Alice and I should have done the
same, only we couldn't have afforded the airfare."

Lois smiles demurely. "Well, Joe just came into some money, so
we figured, why not?"

I manage not to laugh at that. "He did? I didn't know that. Is
this a recent acquisition?"

She nods, her eyes dancing. "Quite recent, and unexpected. But
very welcome, I assure you."

"Well, congratulations again."

"Thank you, Superman."

"Just don't lose it all at the casinos," Perry advises her.

"Oh, don't worry. Joe and I don't gamble."

Yeah, not with money, anyway. But I have to admit, Lyn has won
big-time tonight.&nbsp;

***

I take a deep breath, and then regret it, because it almost makes
me dizzy. I hope I'm not showing how frazzled my nerves are.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Mayor," I say politely.
"But I must be going."

He nods to me, smiling in an absent way, his attention already on
the crowd. "Good night."

I turn towards Clark, standing there in his Superman suit. God,
I'll never get tired of seeing that. "Have a good evening," I
say, managing (I hope) to sound friendly but a little bit
distant.

He smiles at me, and says softly, in Russian, "You are the best.
See you outside?"

I nod graciously, as if he'd given me some kind of traditional
farewell. "Absolutely. The sooner the better."

Although I'd like to dash for the door, it would look odd in
this evening gown. So I hold myself to a sedate pace, greeting a
few people as I pass. My heart rate is starting to slow as it
sinks in that I don't have to be terrified anymore. If I can
convince Perry that I'm Lyn Drozny, independent reporter lately
of Bulgaria, then I'm pretty much set. None of the current crop
of reporters knew Lois Lane better than he did. I try to breathe
slowly, willing my stomach to relax. It helps that Perry mostly
knew me before I left Metropolis; I've changed since
then.&nbsp;

I have a theory that you don't really see a person once you've
gotten a first impression. Your eyes match up a few key points --
body type, hair color, face shape -- just enough to trigger
recognition, and then your brain goes ahead and paints in the
details from memory. It's why you can overlook it when someone
gets braces, until eventually you notice, and wonder how long
that's been going on. Especially if it's someone you don't
interact with much. You see what you expect to see.

So, I painted a new picture of myself for Perry tonight, and as
far as I can tell, he bought it. It helps that he was focused on
the idea of compensation for Superman. I don't expect I'll see
him all that often, but when I do, he'll recognize me as Lyn.
Not Lois.

I exit the building and start down the wide marble staircase
towards the street. It's getting dark, and just a bit cool on my
bare arms. And then Joe is next to me, wearing casual street
clothes, his arm around my shoulders. When we get to the bottom
of the steps I turn and complete the hug. "I can't believe you
did that," he says, and I laugh, the last of the tension leaving
me as I hear the happy note in his voice.

"I know, I know, but I had to. Sorry to scare you, but it
didn't occur to me til about an hour ago that tonight was the
perfect time to make a new first impression. You think he bought
it?"

"I think so; I was monitoring his vitals."

I beam up at him. "My very own lie detector."

He rolls his eyes a little at the teasing, dismissing the topic.
"You're brilliant, and I love you." He bends slightly to kiss
me, and I lose myself in his arms.&nbsp;

I've never had this incredible feeling of rightness, of
completion, with anyone else, and tonight the kiss is also
brimming with anticipation. That's the only reason I eventually
pull back -- well, that plus a distant awareness that we're on a
city sidewalk and ought to behave in public. "I love you, too,"
I whisper, leaning my forehead against his as we try to get our
breath back.

"So... Vegas, huh?" He's grinning wickedly.

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea."&nbsp;

"Oh, I agree." He kisses me again, but quickly and lightly this
time. I don't mind. We can make up for it later.

We disengage enough to start walking down the street, hand in
hand, looking for the nearest dark alley. I feel happy enough to
float unassisted. The last hurdle has been cleared. Now, I'm
finally confident enough to go ahead and get married, and
concentrate on our new life. Together. Our happy ending.

THE END