Almost Lovers (Chapter One)

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It was the stuff that dreams were made of -- or, more rightly, nightmares. It was like one of those proverbial dreams from any sitcom where someone dreams they're in their underwear. In dreams, it was supposed to be a metaphor for not being prepared, he supposed. So it fit today -- and not just today. It fit every day.

Sometimes he imagined he'd wake up in his old bedroom to find his mother and father there. He'd tell them he had the weight of the world, or at least the city, on his shoulders and they'd sit on either side and tell him he didn't need to worry, that it wasn't true. He'd tell them he was wearing skin tight spandex and a cape and they'd giggle at how absurd it was (In these fantasies, his mother never giggled as heartily. She was the culprit, there, after all, and he knew it too well to dream it away). He'd tell them that Chloe was a thing of the past and Chloe was Lois and that Lois was Linda and that Lois, the Lois that was Chloe, was sick of him. They'd tell him that could never happen and that Chloe adored him and always would. He'd tell them that he was about to juggle three identities: Clark Kent, Superman, and a deep cover by the name of Irving Clemp with a stupid glued-on mustache. By this point, they'd insist he was just being silly and they'd all go to the kitchen for cocoa.

But there was no cocoa today. He was literally in front of a crowd in underwear and not about to wake up. Sure, the crowd was first through fifth graders. And the underwear was just underwear because he wore it under everything these days... and maybe because he was wearing visible red briefs. But that didn't make it less of a nightmare or him less unprepared.

He cleared his throat. It had seemed like hours since the principal had introduced him and at least the third time he'd cleared his throat since then. He stared down at his cards, but they were just a blank pile with two unfinished sentences. It was all he'd got out between writing what amounted to an unfinished novel in an old notebook and rushing to meet Turpin and Sawyer by eight.

That went about as well as this was about to. He supposed it was his own fault, showing up only to tell them he had to leave in less than two hours.

"It's only for an hour," he said. "I need to take care of something for my mother and..."

"Great. A mama's boy." Sawyer rolled her eyes.

"Listen, it's just this one time. I just need an hour, maybe an hour and a half off before..."

"And that's fine. Take it. We hardly need you, Kent. You can get this entire investigation off if you..."

"Mags, come on," Turpin broke in. "It's not like he's asking the world, here, and he is helping..."

"His helpfulness has not been established. We don't even know if he's going to derail the whole damned thing." She turned to Clark. "And it's not like you get nothing out of this. Isn't The Daily Planet going to get another sweet little expose out of you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong? Again?"

"Mags, we're running blind and we need someone who knows the Luthors. And Superman trusts him. Let's give him a shot and give him his hour."

Clark turned to Turpin. "Actually an hour and a half might be..."

"Hour and fifteen, tops," Turpin said, throwing Clark a glance that clearly said to shut up. "Mags, if I thought it was a problem I'd tell you."

Sawyer took several deep breaths. "Fine. Today. Just today." She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her jacket and sighed. "I didn't mean to snap at you, Dan." Clark decided not to point out that he was the one who'd been snapped at. "I just want these guys and I want them yesterday and... Damn it!" She tossed her pack down. "Somebody get me some Morleys," she yelled as she slammed out. "Not lights."

Clark turned to Turpin "Thanks."

"It's nothing. We were going to have to cool our heels a bit, anyway. Bobby never wakes up before noon and we need him to get us an audience. Anyway, she's fine. Sawyer just likes a clear plan, is all. So no more deviations."

"I suppose it's not a good idea to ask if we still get Christmas off or..."

"Probably not, Buddy. But we'll see what we get for good behavior."

He'd been hoping to have time to jot down something before standing in front of all of John Byrne Elementary School. But he'd spent the last hour or so going over the plan with Turpin and agonizing over what he would do if someone needed Superman's help, as they surely would. He was going to have to get in, make the save, and get out. Luckily for him, Superman didn't have any more hour-long speaking engagements booked. But, having done this one, more schools might... No. Probably not. Not with how this one was going. He looked at the large clock at the back of the room, both relieved and aggrieved to find only a minute had passed.

They'd started chattering. The teachers seemed to be just as distracted, turning to each other and whispering and he wondered why. Then he realized two things. This was Superman's first speaking engagement. So maybe this was a big deal to them. Not only that, it was Clark Kent's, if you didn't count book reports read aloud with eyes glued to the page in senior year... which he didn't. So it was a big deal to him. There were at least 600 people here and, judging by the flashes, a few reporters who must have been tipped off by his story.

One particular flash right below him caught his eye and he saw Jimmy, giving him a thumbs up and pointing to himself. "Hey," he hissed. "Jimmy Olsen. You might not remember, but I..."

"I do," he said, nodding to him and smiling weakly back. If Jimmy was here, then maybe... He started to look for her, but was distracted by the fact that everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Why am I here?" He said loudly, almost too loudly. He took a deep breath and dialed it down. Just say what happened. Wait for inspiration to strike. "Last week, someone gave a child here a toy. Normally, that's a great thing. I'm sure we'd all like to get free toys all the time."

There was some scattered laughter. He started to smile, then worried they weren't take this seriously enough.

"But this was from a stranger," he said, deepening his voice, "and could have been very dangerous if there had been a real bomb in..." He saw some eyes widen and tried to think of how to say this without scaring them. "This was from a bad stranger. Not all strangers are bad. In fact, most strangers... most people... are good. Okay?" He nodded to himself. "But the trick is to always be safe." He took a deep breath and decided to put his cards down as they were useless anyway. "When you're at school or with your parents, you are usually very safe. But they aren't always around and sometimes you have to be smart. So, if a stranger offers you a toy or some candy or whatever else they think you might want, what do you do?"

A boy stood up. "You say no and run away? Because the candy is poisoned!"

"Not always," another boy piped up. "My mom and I were at the bus stop with this old lady and she gave me a peppermint and it wasn't poisoned at all. It had fuzzies on it, though."

"Okay," he said, putting a hand up when several other kids started chattering. "Not all strangers are bad strangers. We know that. So how do you tell? Maybe, if they offer you something, tell them you need to ask your mother or say you have to ask your teacher first, if you can accept. Chances are, a good stranger would be okay with that."

"Not bad."

His ears twitched at the near whisper and he'd think someone had tapped into his frequency if this wasn't a voice he knew all too well. He started to scan the crowd for her, but a little girl stood up.

"What if there's a bad stranger and our moms and teachers aren't there? Like if we're all alone."

"I hope that doesn't happen a lot, but if you find yourself alone and someone seems suspicious, you can always find a good stranger, like a policeman or go into a crowded store where one of the nice people working there might help you. It's better, if you're without your teachers and parents, to be around lots of people. Most bad strangers would leave you alone if there were enough people around to help you."

"There you go."

He smiled slightly and looked for her again, but an older girl stood up.

"What if they don't care if we're in a crowd and try to grab us?"

"Call for help. If you're near school, call for your teachers. If you're near home, call for your parents. If you're near neither, just call for help as loud as you can."

A very small boy stood. "What about you, Superman? Can we call for you?"

He nodded. "If I ever hear that any of you is in real danger, I'll be there."

"Careful."

She had a point. "That doesn't mean you should do something crazy just to get a free flight." There was some scattered laughter and he smiled. "Or call for me when your brother won't let you play Wii," he added and the laughter grew louder.

"Good one," he heard with a slight laugh.

He found her, then, standing near the eastern door with a coat over her arm and a recorder in her hand and a small smile on her lips.

He returned it before turning back to the crowd. "Any questions?"

**************************

"Just one more question... Spandex?"

Lois stood to one side, struggling not to giggle. She was kind of loopy, being both hungover and sleep deprived today. It was her own fault. Between the party, the solo after-party at her place with poor Linda via phone, and her early morning at the Clocktower with Victor where she pretty much forced him to examine jewelry, she wasn't at her best today.

She loosely arranged her trench over her arm, making sure it covered her bare wrist. It wasn't like she thought Clark would notice the possibly cursed bracelet was suddenly gone. He didn't seem to care one way or the other about it. But on the off chance he did, she didn't want to feel pressured to give it back. Not until Victor was done studying it.

There might be a story in that. Not that magic bracelets were something The Daily Planet rushed to the presses. But something on the Kawatche and their artifacts. Sure, she had her very realistic suspicions about the bracelet, but she could keep it classy. Satisfy her personal curiosity, but also salvage a story accessible to the average reader. There had to be a story here. Why else would she be so obsessed with the bracelet... other than that it glowed and stuck to her wrist like glue until suddenly falling off like it was buttered.

Let it go, she told herself, at least for now. There was nothing she could do until Victor called her, anyway. Also, she had an assignment today. To get a good quote out of Superman if she was to face Perry on her first day back.

Even the Metropolis Star was more on top of things than she was. On top of the wrong things, but...

Clark blinked at the woman "Spandex? Is that a question?"

He looked absolutely tortured and kept staring at the clock. Poor Clark. He was too polite to just leave. It was one of the things that made him so... such a great friend. He would be a very good friend.

"Spandex. Is it a statement?" The woman rolled her eyes. "That's what I mean."

Leave it to the Star to ask the important questions.

"I... just find it easier to move in. I'm really not trying to make a statement with it."

"And yet you have," she said. "Just one more question..." The woman just wouldn't quit. From his cape to his hair to his boots. Lois thought she must have covered it all by now. "Do you really think that briefs on the outside is fashion-forward?" Maybe not that part. At least she was thorough. "Really Superman, even Madonna couldn't carry this off and that was post-eighties."

As amusing as it was, Lois shouldn't let it go on any longer. If they were going to be friends now, she should come forward with a friendly gesture or two. Like rescue. She stepped forward. "Any comment for The Daily Planet, Superman?"

He turned to her, eyes widening as he nearly sped through the feet separating them. "Yes. Miss Lane."

She leaned in. "I just really need to know what kind of product you use," she said lowly. "Anyway, good speech."

"You think?" He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I think it was more of a Q and A. I mean, I didn't have anything prepared so..."

"So learn how to take a compliment. You did well and that's a good omen for future speaking engagements."

"Let's hope there aren't many." He looked at the clock again and she felt strangely hurt. It was one thing when he did it with The Star, but...

"At least I'm not asking you about your briefs," she muttered. She was trying to be friendly. After all she'd said last night...

He glanced at her, distracted. "Sorry. What?"

She realized it then, he wasn't looking at the clock because he felt harrassed. She narrowed her eyes. "Have somewhere to be?"

He drew to his full height. "I have many places to be."

She leaned in to whisper. "That's strange, considering a certain coworker of mine has taken vacation time."

"Then maybe I have to be in the Bahamas," he said stiffly, moving to the door. "Anyway, I have to..."

"You could at least admit this isn't a vacation," she said, following him.

He stopped and leaned in, whispering, "And you could at least remember that you said you weren't going to horn in on any of my stories anymore." He moved out the doors.

"So it is a story," she said triumphantly as she dogged him into the schoolyard. "And I don't horn in."

"No. You get Perry to put you in."

"That was all him. I didn't say a thing. And might I add that I did more than my share after I, through no fault of my own, was thrown into your story."

He turned to her. "Lois, this is my business. And I never said it was a story."

"Yes, you did. You..."

"Then I take it back."

"Fine, fine. I have work to do, anyway." She pressed a button on her tape recorder. "Superman, considering the phony bomb threat happened just as the first National, was being robbed, something our own Clark Kent pointed out, do you believe these events are connected?"

"I'll leave that to the police to investigate."

She snapped her recorder off. "No thoughts on that? You yourself insinuated..."

"No. Clark did," he hissed. "And, right now, I am not Clark and Superman is not about to give up quotes that could impede an ongoing investigation. Not even for you."

She drew back. "I wasn't implying you should... for me... that's just..." She huffed and pushed record again. "Superman, do you feel your speech had more impact than it would from a teacher or a policeman or a parent?"

He reached over and shut it off. "Are you implying I think I'm better or..."

"What?"

"That just seems like you think I'm conceited."

She rolled her eyes and turned it on again. "Superman, considering the level of celebrity you have attained, through no fault or conceit of your own," she added pointedly, "do you think the children are more likely to listen to you?"

"I think... that I haven't said anything new today. If they've listened to their authority figures, then they already know. For me to say it makes no..."

She groaned and snapped it off again. "Really? Now you sound falsely unaware of your impact."

"Well, you asked the question. I don't want it to seem like I think, hearing it from me, it's suddenly..."

"Yes. But you're a super powered hero. To a kid, it's going to have more impact and anyone knows that, including you. Try again?" She clicked her recorder on and held it up.

He took a deep breath. "I know these children admire what I do. So I'm glad to... reinforce what their parents and teachers tell them."

She nodded. "Good enough." She switched her recorder off. "Now... Does your vacation time have any connection to the bomb threat and robbery?"

He sighed and moved away. "No comment."

"This is off the record," she said, following him. "This is you and me. During Met Vista, we checked in with each other on what we know. I've given you advice on other stories of your own. But you're suddenly very close-lipped about this one and Intergang."

"Lois, I don't pry into your business."

"That's a joke, right?"

He whirled on her. "Well, I don't anymore. I won't." He stepped toward her and leaned down. "You want us to be friends and just that and we will be. I won't mess with your life and you won't mess with mine." He grew quiet, staring down at the coat draped over her left arm, of all things. "Aren't you cold?"

"I am a little..." She stopped before she thought of putting it on. She didn't want to chance him noticing her bare wrist... off chance though it was. "I'm fine."

"You always are," he muttered. His eyes seemed to drift to her coat again and to the general vicinity of her wrist and she snapped her fingers.

"Back on topic, this is not me messing with your life. If this is a story..."

"Even if this was a story, it doesn't mean you have to be in on it."

"I'm not saying I should be," she said, trying to look as guileless as possible. "I only think I should point out that, though my investigative skills are purely human, my contributions to our last piece were not only invaluable, but damned near cracked the whole thing wide open and saved many lives and..."

"And that has nothing to do with this. There are some things I need to do for myself and I'm sure there are other things going on in Metropolis than whatever you think I'm doing."

"Yes. There are," she said peevishly. But... damn it. He had something. This morning, before coming here, she'd looked at his desk several times, finding it empty and knowing that he was as capable of taking a vacation as she was. He had something and, considering even Perry wasn't in on it as far as she could tell, it was big. "Fine. I won't 'horn in,' as you put it." For now

He glanced over her head and Lois turned to see Jimmy approaching. He drew his shoulders back. "That's all I have time for, Miss Lane," he said loudly. "I really must go."

She leaned in. "Just one more fact about our last story. One of us found the complex and the other was kidnapped into it. So maybe you want to rethink..."

"I'm going," he said witheringly. "Goodbye." He bent his legs and leapt.

"Fine, then. I was only making a suggestion. You can just... fly off?" She stared after him, disappearing against the sun. "He... flew?"

"Of course he flew," Jimmy said next to her. "He's Superman." He nudged her. "You guys had a good talk. Did you get anything interesting?"

"No," she said. trying not to be peeved. "I mean... yes. I got a quote out of him." Nothing else. Not even the fact that he was flying now. She could add that to other things she, apparently, had no right to know.


CHAPTER TWO