Chapter Text
The next day, Lois and Clark resume their routine. She throws herself into her stories. He maintains a cordial distance. It’s supposed to make things easier. But it doesn’t.
There’s no ignoring the way her heart leaps into her throat whenever he steps out of the elevator. The warmth filling her chest when she catches one of his dorky grins. The faint twinge of worry when he sneaks out of yet another meeting. But she has to ignore it, somehow. That’s the only way to be objective about this.
Because it’s her decision. Whether or not to cut the man she loves out of her life forever.
That’s really what it comes down to. She can’t see a path forward where they simply go back to being colleagues. Helping with each other’s stories. Catching a friendly bite together after work. It would be too much. She would need a clean break. Which would probably put Clark out of a job – one of them would have to leave the Daily Planet, and he would insist that it be him. She knows him too well.
So she would carry on with her stories. Alone. No steadfast partner keeping her in check. No gentle voice prompting just the right questions. No sweet smile at the realization that they’re on to something.
Then there’s the alternative – being Superman’s partner. Accomplice might be more accurate. She’ll be constantly lying for him. Actively covering up the biggest story in the world. But is it a cover-up? Or just privacy? Is anyone even entitled to Superman’s real name?
They would have to carry everything together. All of it.
But isn’t that what every partnership does?
Lois sighs, leaning back in her chair to rub at her eyes. The latest draft of her article has been sitting open on her computer for the past forty minutes, but she hasn’t written a word.
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t look good.”
She drops her hand to see Janet wheeling her chair around the desk, settling beside her. “What doesn’t?”
“You. You’ve been a thousand miles away all day. So has Clark.” Janet scoots even closer, lowering her voice. “Is everything okay?”
Lois pulls her half-empty coffee cup over, but doesn’t drink. It’s long since gone cold. “Not really,” she replies, after a moment’s consideration.
“What happened? I mean, if you want to talk about it.”
Maybe talking will help. Lois takes a few moments to scan over the bullpen. Clark is nowhere in sight – probably off doing his Superman things. And since he’s promised not to listen anymore…
“We… had a fight,” she finally replies, keeping her tone low and light. “A big one.”
“You two? Really?” When Lois nods, Janet asks, “What about?”
“Most of it’s personal.” That much is true, at least. “But he… crossed a boundary. I mean, a major violation of privacy.”
“Clark?”
Lois just nods. “I couldn’t believe it either. I… sort of lost it at him.”
“So… is that it?” Janet’s eyes are wide. “Are you two done?”
A bit helplessly, Lois shakes her head. “I don’t know. He apologized. And you should have seen the bouquet he brought me.”
She demonstrates the size with her hands, and Janet smiles a little. “Was it a good apology?”
“Honestly, yes,” Lois admits. “I don’t think he’ll do it again. But that’s not all. I’ve… been learning more and more about him. And it’s just gotten so complicated. I’m usually good at complicated. But this… I’m just not sure that we’re a good fit anymore.”
The confusion is plain on Janet’s face, but she nods a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know what could be so complicated about Clark Kent, of all people. And that’s probably not my business – I don’t know him that well. But I do know you. And I have never seen you light up quite the way that you do with him.”
“But is that enough? Can you build an entire foundation on a few good feelings?”
“Of course not. You still need trust, commitment, respect. I suppose you have to ask yourself – do those still exist?”
Across the room, the elevator door dings open. Clark steps out, looking a bit frazzled, Perry’s dry cleaning slung over one shoulder. Their eyes briefly meet – he offers the tiniest of awkward half-smiles before hurrying to the chief editor’s office. Lois’ gaze follows until he’s out of sight, something twisting in her chest.
Janet’s gentle voice cuts into her thoughts. “You still love him.”
“Yeah.” There’s no question of that.
Janet’s hand rests on her arm. “You’re Lois Lane. Trust your gut.”
She wheels her chair back to her desk, leaving Lois staring blankly at her half-written article.
The rest of the day drags by. Lois catches a few more glimpses of Clark around the bullpen – making copies, fetching records, brewing coffees. He seems more awkward and bumbling than usual. Like his head is just as much of a mess as hers. He’d taken an enormous risk in telling her – she knows that. It must be eating him alive that she hasn’t accepted it unconditionally.
When she finally clicks submit on her article, it’s late into the evening. Most of the staff have gone home, though a few still sit typing away at their desks. Lois gathers her things and pulls her coat over her shoulders. Maybe another quiet evening at home will clear her head. Unlikely. But possible.
As she rounds the corner, a suited figure walks out of the elevator, leaving just one passenger waiting inside. Clark.
He spots her, his head angling slightly. His expression is careful, measured – but there’s a tinge of sorrow behind his eyes that cuts deep.
For a moment, she considers stopping and waiting for the next car. Or just taking the stairs. But that’s ridiculous. She’s a grown woman. It’s just one elevator ride. That’s all.
Lois doesn’t look at him as she steps through the doors, quickly facing forward. But from the corner of her eye, she sees Clark shift – stepping slightly further away, dropping his gaze to the floor. Visibly giving her more space, refusing to encroach the unspoken boundary.
Because he’s Clark.
And suddenly, Lois knows exactly what her gut says. It misses him.
Objectivity is overrated.
Just before the doors close, Lois abruptly turns and pulls Clark in for a kiss.
“What–?” he starts, before her lips are on his, swallowing his confused squeak. She presses forward, one hand tangling in his hair, the other gripping his jacket. His back thuds lightly against the wall, before he instinctively wraps an arm around her, pulling her close with the softest moan. He tastes like wintermint.
For several long, blissful seconds, there’s nothing else in the world. Only Clark Kent and Lois Lane.
Then the elevator dings.
Lois pulls back all at once, the smirk already dancing across her expression. Clark holds perfectly still, eyes closed, mouth hanging slightly open. Superman, rendered speechless by a single kiss. Adorable.
When he finally manages to look at her, blinking owlishly, Lois just grins. “Walk me home?”
His lips twitch, almost into a smile, and he nods.
It’s quiet in the Planet’s lobby. Clark hurries forward to hold the door for her as they leave. As they step out onto the sidewalk, he tentatively offers her his arm.
She accepts.
They don’t speak during the walk. Lois just enjoys the feel of him as she organizes her thoughts. She can practically feel his mind racing beside her, but he doesn’t interrupt the comfortable silence.
When they reach her building, Clark hesitates for a moment with a brief glance her way, clearly wondering if she wants him to come inside. She inclines her head in invitation, so he accompanies her through the doors, up the stairs, down the hall, right to her apartment door.
Finally, she lets go of his arm to find her key. He follows her in, gently closing it behind him. Her apartment looks just the same the night before – except his flowers sit in a vase on the windowsill. Lois trails her fingers along some of the petals, feeling the silky texture against her skin.
“So…” Clark ventures from behind her. “You… uh…?”
Lois turns to him. He looks so confused – and she can’t blame him. A full day of radio silence followed by a kiss big enough to make him forget his own name would rattle anyone’s head.
“I want to set some ground rules,” she begins, leaning back against the counter.
“Ground rules?”
“Yes. For us.”
The tiniest bit of hope starts to creep into his eyes. She can see his breath hitch momentarily. “Us?”
But Lois is going to finish her piece before she answers that. “First. I won’t publish anything that will reveal who you are, or that could put you or anyone else in danger. And I will cover for you when I have to. But I’m still a reporter. I won’t start to go easy on Superman just because it’s you.”
Clark nods. “Okay.”
“Second. If we’ve set aside time for each other, Superman only leaves for major events. I’m not going to keep you from saving lives, but I also don’t want you running out of date night to get some old lady’s cat out of a tree.”
“Fair enough. Catastrophes only.”
“Third. You don’t listen for me unless I ask you to. I will call you if I need you.”
“I…” Clark clears his throat. “I actually have something that might help with that.”
When Lois raises her eyebrow, Clark slowly moves closer, pulling something from his bag. It’s a metal device, the size of his palm, with a series of blinking lights and a glowing red button.
“What’s this?”
“I haven’t figured out a name for it yet. Jor-El gave me the design and the power source. The rest is, uh… from RadioShack. I went ahead and put it together. Hoping that… you… that we’d…” Unsure how to finish that statement, he simply passes it to her.
“What does it do?” Curiously, she presses her thumb down on the button.
Immediately, Clark winces, his face screwing up in discomfort. “It… emits an extremely loud, high frequency that only I can hear.”
Ah. She loosens her grip, and his grimace gradually fades. “So… you’re giving me a Kryptonian dog whistle?”
“It’s so you can call me in an emergency. When you want to. I’ll be able to hear it from anywhere in the world. I…” He hesitates. “It… would really give me some peace of mind. Knowing that you have a way to reach me right away.”
It makes sense. “And if I don’t use it?”
“Then I won’t be there.” Then he stops, frowning, apparently truly considering what that would look like. “Well… within reason. If you’re falling off a building, I’m probably still going to catch you.”
Lois feels the smirk spreading across her cheeks. “You’d better.”
Clark’s expression melts as he watches her, full of more fondness and affection than she ever would have thought possible. So softly, he asks, “Are we okay?”
Slowly, Lois straightens up, choosing her words carefully. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any doubts. But… I love you. And I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least give us a chance.”
The relief that floods Clark’s face makes her heart flutter. Gently, deliberately, he steps forward, cupping her cheek and bending down for a kiss – one that she’s more than happy to return.
“I know it’s a lot,” he murmurs as they finally pull apart. “It’s a lot for me, too. But I think we can handle it. Together. You make me better, Lois. Clark and Superman both.”
Lois lets her hands snake around him, keeping him close. “There are some things I’m just never going to understand,” she admits. “I don’t know what it’s like to hear the entire world, or lift up a freight train, or soar through the air. But… I can try.”
Clark smiles down at her. “That’s all I can ask.” But as she watches, an idea slowly spreads over his face, dancing there almost mischievously. “...do you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“Fly.”
Oh. From the moment Superman had first appeared in Metropolis, she’d wondered how it must feel. To soar. To be completely unencumbered by the earth. It always looks so easy for him. Exhilarating and peaceful all at once.
And he can share a piece of it with her.
“...right now?”
“Mhm.”
She feels herself nodding before she even realizes. “Yes.”
Clark’s grin widens, before he spares a brief glance down at her clothes. “You might want a better coat.”
Five minutes later, they step into the alleyway behind her apartment building, hands intertwined. Lois has bundled herself into a jacket and hat, while Clark still wears his dress shirt from the Planet. As they step out of view from the street, Clark glances left, then right, then up to the windows – making sure that no one’s around to see.
Once he’s satisfied, he lightly tugs her closer. “Here. Stand on my feet.”
Carefully, she steps onto his shoes, slipping her arms around him. One of his hands rests on her back, gentle and firm, while the other toys with her hair. Now that he has permission to be affectionate again, he seems to be taking every available opportunity to touch her. “I’ll have to go fast to get out of sight. Do you trust me?”
She nods.
“Then hold on tight.”
Both hands encircle her, keeping her secure. Then he launches into the air.
Lois’ stomach flips. Wind roars in her ears. She instinctively grabs onto Clark, eyes closed, face hidden against his shoulder. His grip on her tightens in response. She can barely make out his voice over the rush, saying, “I’ve got you.”
It stops almost as abruptly as it had begun. Clark coasts to a stop, still holding her. “There. You won’t fall, I promise.”
Cautiously, Lois opens her eyes. Then her head gradually lifts from his shoulder as she takes everything in.
It’s a clear night, only a few wispy clouds drifting past below them. Below them stretches the whole of Metropolis, like an elaborate diorama. Skyscrapers stand like figurines. Pinprick headlights crawl by on ribbon roads. Starlight glitters off Hob’s Bay.
“...wow.” That’s all she can manage.
“Yeah,” Clark agrees. “I come up here whenever I need to clear my head.”
“I can see why.” Lois leans her head back against his chest. “Is it hard? Flying?”
“It was at first. I had some pretty intense wipeouts.” Clark begins to drift in a slow circle. Almost like they’re dancing. “But once I figured it out… now it’s almost harder to stay on the ground.”
“How did you figure it out? Jor-El?”
“He helped. But like everything else, I ultimately had to find the trigger for myself.”
“The trigger?”
“Most of my abilities are intrinsically tied to my emotions. So I had to learn the emotions that triggered them, then work backwards from there.” Clark’s hand trails up and down her back as he speaks. “Heat vision is anger. Hearing is fear, or anxiety. That’s why it’s so important for me to stay in control of myself.”
“What’s the trigger for flying?”
Above her, she can actually feel his smile. “Joy.”
Lois twists her head to rest her chin against his chest, looking up into his eyes. “So you’re happy.”
“Very,” he whispers.
Her hand slowly wanders up into his hair, tracing little patterns behind his ear. “I love you.” Then, barely more than a breath, she adds, “Superman.”
She stretches up onto tiptoe, her lips finding his. Clark sighs into her mouth, and they lift higher into the sky, losing themselves in one another.
Lois and Clark.
Superman and Lois.
Together.