4375/Chinese Take Out Healing

Chinese Take Out Healing
Date of Scene:	11 December 2020
Location:	Clinton Street Apartments
Synopsis:	Lois and Clark have a long over due talk with Chinese, a few kisses, and then there is an unexpected visitor. Content warning for adult language.
Cast of Characters:	Clark Kent, Lois Lane

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Clark Kent has posed:
Let's talk about Clark Kent's day.

We start with Clark rising, remembering what happened, and facepalming. A quick shower later and it's off to work; he manages to save three people from a car accident on the way, a quiet morning.

Panel of Clark being screamed at by Perry because his article on the alien slug is behind schedule. He's then screamed at for another panel for not fighting back right, what's your problem Kent?

Lunchtime: a quiet sandwich in the park. Clark looks up and sees a blimp floating by, advertising toothpaste or something. The ad banner flips to a stark message saying, "You're a jerk, Superman.", broadcast at a frequency only he can see; Luthor, Clark thinks, and tosses the sandwich out.

Afternoon: Superman's fighting the Puzzler, Bloodshot, and Riot, who have all apparently decided to stick together for a while. It's a pain, a lot of projectiles and flailing bodies trying to tackle him, not unlike fighting a swarm of bees who talk endlessly about how famous they're going to be. Clark manages to trap Puzzler in a net he quickly weaved out of some industrial steel using heat vision and Ma Kent's crafting lessons...

...when he turns around to see Lobo, who's been waiting for this very moment. He takes a picture of Superman knitting, and then punches him in the face.

So we come to this evening, where Clark Kent has an unusual feature: a black eye. Superman groans, making sure his cape's tucked in in case one of his neighbors gets snoop-y, and finally lets out a breath, collapsing on a chair.

"I guess I should get some ice." Clark says to no one. Oh right, no dogs in the apartment.

Lois Lane has posed:
Well, it's like the universe has just the thing for him. Because, while Lois isn't a dog (well, not THAT kind of dog, and it depends how energetically she's following a story), she is someone who will listen. And she might not know about the mess with Lobo, but she definitely heard the mess with Perry. While the dark haired woman is often a little self absorbed and a lot intoxicated, she cares for a few people in this world. Clark is close to the top of that list.

That means, she's got a feeling he's not cooking tonight. Hell, she only assumed he was home because he's not still working in the office. So, a she's got a bag full of too-mcuh chinese, a six pack of beer, and actually has cleaned up a bit before coming over? She's in a nice pair of body hugging jeans, an off the shoulders dark red sweater, and maybe even put on a bit of make up. *Maybe*. She's still got those blue glasses on, but she even bothered with a touch of amber oil perfume. "Kansas. Open up. I cooked!" She calls, knocking with the toe of her boot.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark looks at himself; he can't help it. His preferred blue suit, jacket thrown over the couch. It is basically the only sign that this place is...lived in, really, as Clark keeps the place rigidly clean. No, wait, he thinks, his model kit of the Batplane is on his desk, he'd been planning on finishing it tonight. Lois is probably, Clark thinks, feeling a little sorry for him and also wants to wring him about the ZZGU story. They've done this a million times.

A flash of super speed cleans up Clark's living room, puts away his model plane, and tucks his shirt back in while fixing his hair. Nothing he can do about the black eye. Lobo, Clark thinks again, and heads to the door, trying to be pleasant.

"Lois!" Clark says, looking at the clear bag of take out. "It smells, ah, wonderful. Please, come in." Is she wearing makeup? Clark thinks. Did she get mugged?!

Lois Lane has posed:
No injuries. Just a touch of make up, perfume, clean hair, and the fact that she bothered to look somewhat put together before coming over. Not that she's commenting on it at all. "I know. I'm an excellent cook, I've told you this before." Lois gives him a grin and a little wink, as he takes the far too much Chinese food out of her hand. His absolute favourite is inside, as well as her's, and a whole lot appetizers including a double order of Crab Rangoon, because how can you not?

She shuts the door behind her, frowning as she catches sight of his face. "...Hell, Clark, what *happened* to you? I knew Perry was pissed but I didn't think he'd slug you!" She asks, following to set the beer down quickly and then reach up surprisingly gentle hands to try and inspect his eye.

Clark Kent has posed:
Huh, Clark thinks.

Another part of him thinks, 'mm, dumplings' because he has not eaten a proper meal all day. "That really does smell..."

And now Lois is close. Too close, Clark thinks, desperately trying to look less like Superman up close and personal. He winces, a little, but hopes it comes off as the flesh being tender. It is a nasty little shiner, to be sure, but right now all Clark is hoping is that it stays that way instead of clearing up in a few seconds. Lucky it's night. "I, uh."

"You know it sounds silly but I ran into a door." Clark says, grinning sheepishly, "There was a fight downtown, the Revenge Squad got a new member...that space biker? I was trying to grab a few pictures, maybe an interview with Puzzler, she's always good for copy and then Superman threw a car and, well..."

Lois Lane has posed:
"...Superman threw a car and you ran into a door?" Lois states flatly, some skepticism behind her voice. There's part of her that knows he's not giving her the whole story, just like the other night, but the rest of her is so scared to push him away that she doesn't chase it. Not this moment. Still, she frowns, apparent genuine concern in her eyes behind her own glasses. "Don't you have a bag of peas or something to put on it? I promise, I won't make fun of you about it for a whole hour. Maybe two." Lois winks at him there.

Then she's pulling away to go for the beer opener. No reason to bother with plates when they have all the chinese take out cartons already there. She makes herself quite comfortably at home in his far too neat apartment, a little tornado of chaos, amber oil, and menthol ultralights to wreck his perfectly pristine life.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark has a similar thought, though 'wreck' doesn't really make it in there.

"I have an actual ice pack." Clark says, settling a bit into their old routine. He does, though mostly for guests; the number of beings that can injure him in a way that needs mending isn't exactly large. Well, depending on the sun, Clark thinks, as he goes to get just that, taking his glasses off(!) and putting the icepack on his face. Aaah.

"Perry's just worried about what I saw at the military base. You know him. I just want a few more confirmations before I go for print, it's kind of a...even these days, it's difficult to believe. A whole other world, Lois! Only...conquered by this thing, remade in its image. There was even a Supergirl, covered in dripping black ichor." Clark pops the beer cap off with his thumb, looking a bit more farmboy than he usually lets himself in Metropolis. "I guess I'm lucky I wasn't infected."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Very lucky." Lois flickers a gaze over to him, smiling a bit more at his half covered face, though he dared to take off those glasses, a way she's never really seen him before. "...You look good without glasses, Kansas. Maybe we should get you contacts some day. Well, as good as you can with an icepack on half your face." She winks to him, but her smile is warm and there might even be the faintest trace of blush to her cheeks. It felt good to go into their old routine. To jus be a part of his life on a random evening.

"Come on, go sit down. I'll get the food brought in. Let me baby you for one night, big guy." Lois is teasing, but there still seems some honest concern behind her voice. She's very not accustomed to seeing him hurt, even with some of the wild situations they've been in before. She carries her beer in one hand and the bag of food in the other, going for his coffee table to lay everything out, complete with chopsticks and some deep plastic spoons for the soup dumplings. "Perry wants the story to be rock solid, is all. I'm worried about you getting into that shit but I'd do it too so I can't really blame you. Make sure they got nothing to crack and go to print. You got this, Clark. You're one of the best in the business. Don't let Perry make you doubt yourself."

Clark Kent has posed:
Lois is being almost suspiciously supportive. Maybe she's guilty about..

...she has a boyfriend. Huh. Clark never quite saw that coming. She's always so independent, and he supposes he has some of the blame, flirting with her from two different identities. Like some sort of big city cad, Clark thinks ruefully, sitting down anyway and letting Lois do her thing.

"I'll have to. Can't see a thing without these. I tried contacts in high school and they dried my eyes out something fierce." Funny how Clark always has a convenient allergy for a situation. "I'm not that worried. I just have to get through an interview with Stark Tech," The 'bleh' is clear in Clark's voice, "And if that goes well I've got it. Appreciate the pep talk, though." Clark indulges in a little smile, the kind of humor it's so hard to crowbar out of him normally. "Never thought of you as the cheerleading type, though."

Lois Lane has posed:
"I don't trust myself around Stark. We both like alcohol too much and f*cking off work. We'd never get anything done. Met him at a party once. I don't remember what really happened after that but I know it was a fun night." Lois states with a smirk, not bothered by the fact that he's not a huge fan of Stark. "You'll get through it."

And then he's commenting on her not being the cheerleading type and she sighs, plopping down onto the couch next to him. She pushes her booties off her feet so she can draw her legs up onto the couch, folded criss cross style beneath her, as she faces him. She pulls a container of lo mein into her lap but is mainly focused on his handsome features. "I... think I... gave you the wrong impression the other day, is all. And... wanted to apologize. I guess. Besides, you had a shit day. I don't ALWAYS have to be an asshole."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Maybe he built you a car." Clark says, trying not to sound jealous of Lois having a whirlwind night with one of the most eligible men on the planet. "Or showed you the math on how he manages not to pay any taxes. ...actually, I wonder what kind of a write off the Avengers are."

Or the Justice League, Clark then thinks of Bruce and HIS billions. Still that's okay because that troubled billionaire playing superhero is his buddy. So there. Clark avoids looking at Lois's legs since Clark Kent can't see shit without his glasses. It is not the easiest test of his super-will.

"Oh, well.." Clark trails off. "Honestly I should apologize too. I know it was out of nowhere. I mean, I used to ask you out all the time, in the really early days, but then we actually became friends and..." Clark trails off again, getting annoyed at the habit. "...you were being very sincere with me and know I was coming off as cagey and weird. I'm sorry about that."

Lois Lane has posed:
A quick two bites of the lo mein is taken, but then Lois just moves to set the container down. She's not that hungry and this is a beer kind of a conversation, not a food one. She pulls the beer into her hands and takes a long pull of it before settling pale blue eyes a bit heavier on him. She's sober, at the moment, and it makes her a bit more serious than her often laid back state.

"Well, yes. You were being cagey and weird as shit and I'm still curious what is up. But... I don't..." Lois looks down to the top of her beer, genuinely embarrassed for a moment. "I don't have a boyfriend. The other man... Shit, Clark, I have a school girl crush like some 13 year old putting posters up on her bedroom wall of boy bands. But it's on... Superman. And I'm a f*cking idiot to think that anything's actually going to COME of that... Just... you're too good to dive into somethin' with when I head keeps turning elsewhere..."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark pops a dumpling into his mouth, going for the opposite comfort for a serious talk.

"I think it was one of those things where you don't actually know why you're riled up until later. I saw myself in that portal," Clark says and hey, it's not even a lie, "And...oh."

Clark blinks, and puts his glasses on in order to properly sit up. It's almost funny. It IS funny, really. God. 'It'd be unfair to take you out because I really want to take YOU out' that's hilarious. Clark's face is stone still for a moment.

"Okay." Is what Clark Kent would say in this situation, so he does. "That's fair. But I think you're selling yourself short. If you're serious about this attraction? Sitting on it isn't going to help. That's why I asked you; one weird ink monster version of me and I was realizing life's short."

Another dumpling pops into Clark's mouth. "So why not ask him out? ...maybe without, uh, jumping out of a helicopter to get his attention."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Look. I only jumped out of that helicopter because it was on *fire* and he happened to be near, so it seemed like the better solution at the time. I've never... purposefully gotten into trouble *just* to see him. There's usually a few motives at work there." Lois dead pans, mostly being honest there, even if that is admitting that it is sometimes a partial motive.

She takes another long sip of her beer, that blush creeping up her cheeks and it's not due to booze for once. "I'm not going to ask him out. He's *Superman*. He's got... way better people to be around than me, and way more things to do. I don't even know if he does get a night off. And shit, Clark... *You're* too good for me, much less him. So...just forget I said anything. Capiche?" Lois asks with a smile that is trying to be reassuring and careless at the same time.

Clark Kent has posed:
"You remember the first thing you taught me about reporting?" Clark says, serious. Why is he so serious, he thinks.

Because he can't bare to see Lois treating herself like this. "The only questions that get answered are the ones you ask. You don't know the answer, you just think you do. But that's not news, that's...how did you put it." Clark tries Lois's voice, which is terrible. "'Overpriced fortune telling.'"

"It might not work out. Maybe he's too busy, or married to that weird psychic alien redhead or a mermaid. Maybe he can't feel love the way humans do. Maybe it will and he flies you off to some secret fortress in the Arctic that's a little too much for you! It's a big world, Lois, but don't give up just because you think you're not worthy or something ridiculous like that. That idea's the only unworthy thing I've heard you say."

Lois Lane has posed:
"...God, Clark, that was like a decade ago. I can't remember what I said last week. Refresh me..." Lois deadpans, utterly certain it wasn't all that good. But then he does remind her. And it all comes rushing back. That first afternoon, Clark nervous and more than a bit awkward. Lois razzing him like she does all the new kids, but also not quite able to stop staring. A spilled stack of papers. Discussion of an interview. His own nerves getting to be so much...

For several heartbeats, Lois is just staring at him. Lost in memory and some internal war with herself. "I... can't believe you remember that." She finally whispers, setting her beer aside slowly. It's like something just hit her. Just how good the man in front of her is. Even as he's trying to pep talk her about taking out another man, he remembers all those little details.

Suddenly, Superman doesn't seem all that interesting. Alien and distant in the sky. Someone she barely knows, compared to Kansas, right at her side. And, then even more sudden, Lois is moving. Unless Clark stops her, she's leaning up for a quite unexpected, deep kiss.

Clark Kent has posed:
"It was funny." Clark says, modestly, because it'd be weird to say it's hard not to remember details because his brain evolved a few extra wrinkles from the intense pressure of the high-gravity world his people were born on that make him a living computer.

Not SMARTER than a human being, though he sometimes calls it super-intellegence for ease of description or to piss off Lex Luthor, but the Kryptonian mind picks up on and stores fine detail far longer than most human minds, especially when regularly dosed with yellow sunlight, which allows the brain to restore damaged neural cells, normally irreplaceable in both species. It's how he can count the number and types of weapons in an entire army, or stay sane when processing the amount of information his super-hearing picks up every day. Plus, it was funny.

Superman is then dropped entierly on his super-ass by Lois Lane just sort of storming up to himfor a kiss. He should really, really stop this, but he finds himself doing exactly the opposite. God she smells amazing, Clark thinks as he feels lips against his, and they move.

The chair strains under Clark's shifted weight, as he stops paying attention to holding back just how much pressure he's putting on it, or the fact that his uniform is RIGHT under that thin office shirt. Super-intellegence or no, Clark isn't thinking about anything at all right now.

Lois Lane has posed:
As he doesn't push her off or pull back, Lois quite happily tosses herself a bit deeper into that kiss. She's clueless as to the strain of the chair, or what might be under that shirt, but her fingertips are making their way up to try and learn real fast. Even dinner is forgotten about now, one slender leg swinging around so she can straddle across his lap and perch her butt on his thighs. It gives her far easier access for the depth of that kiss.

She doesn't push too much deeper, though. Even for all the passion she might be feeling, this really was their very first *kiss*. She's savoring it. Learning the way he kisses, the taste of his mouth. Remembering little things like the feel of his dark hair beneath her fingertips. For once in her life, Lois is being surprisingly gentle now that she's settled in his lap. Still, her hand that isn't in her hair does reach down to his collar, starting to pull at the buttons so maybe she can get him a little more comfortable.

"Mm..." She pulls back just enough she can speak against his mouth, but remains close enough that every word brushes her lips against his. "Sometimes... the good things are right in front of you."

Clark Kent has posed:
Strongest man in the world or no, Clark feels like jelly right now, Lois's kiss melting his defenses as easily as kryptonite. He'd wanted this moment for...

It feels like ages. Clark and Lois had gone from antagonists to friendly rivals to actual friends over the years, but the flirtatious element of their relationship was always there. But it actually happening, and just out of...

It's not nowhere though. This is his fault. All of it getting this far is his fault and if Clark doesn't say something soon Lois is going to find out in the worst way possible; he sees her working on those buttons and is, shamefully, tempted to just let it happen. Clark's eyes narrow and he gently holds Lois's hand.

"I." Clark swallows, "...Lois, I need to tell you something. I promised myself I would if we ever, uh."

Lois Lane has posed:
It's not until he's stopping her hand, however so gently, that she blinks and actually starts to pull herself out of the moment. She'd have been content to go most of the night, dinner forgotten, but there's a firm urgency in his hand that she doesn't entirely understand. She knows him well, and that pressure in his fingertips is enough to make her head tilt up, eyes flickering to his in true concern. "Clark...?" She asks, catching her breath from the kiss even as she speaks. That was more intense than even she expected.

But then he's swallowing like that. The boyish nervousness in his eyes and solemn, earnest nature pouring through. She looks genuinely confused until the last part of his sentence, the implication of what they just started spilling through her mind. Her eyes go wide, fingertips dropping from his hair to the side of his cheek as pure, gentle understanding and support crosses her face.

"Oh, Clark...it's fine. It's fine. Not everyone loses their viginity in High School, I promise... we... We'll take it slow." She has made an assumption. A very wrong assumption.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark makes his first real mistake of the night and ignores what, to super-ears, almost sounds like the walls laughing at his misfortune. Clearly one of his neighbors is laughing at something and he's being dramatic. "What? No, m-" Clark stops himself because;

1: It is a bad idea to tell someone you may be about to make out with about your last girlfriend.

2: He made a very serious promise to the mermaids about their secrecy and the last thing Clark needs is Poseidon giving him crap again.

"It's not that. I mean I appreciate the consideration but. God there really is no easy way to do this." Clark says, and then thinks of one. Lois may feel a little weightless as Clark manipulates his personal gravity, and effortlessly hovers the both of them off of the couch they'd stumbled onto.

"The thing is, I'm Superman." Clark says, and half expects her to deck him.

Lois Lane has posed:
The hovering isn't even noticed at first, Lois' head tilting and even deeper confusion crossing her face as she tries to piece together just what could be harder than being a virgin. She's one of the best reporters in the world, she can normally read people like a book, and she still can't figure this out. "Whatever it is, Clark, we'll get through..."

And then it clicks in that she's about two feet hovering off the couch. Still in his lap, but neither of them are touching furniture. Instinctively, her hand that was on his his chest jerks around into clutching around a shoulder, to hold on lest she accidentally fall. And then she's holding onto muscles she's held before but never realized just how alike they were.

And then that last sentence actually hits home. She blinks, staring at him, dead silent for a handful of suddenly, slightly panicked heartbeats. Slowly, her hand from his cheek reaches up to his glasses. She's ever so careful with them, as if she still thinks he might need them to see, as she slips them off his face and the whole world comes crashing in on a truth she should have figured out years ago, but didn't.

All the blood drains from her face. Shock is a funny thing. It looks like she might be threatening to pass out, but she lets his glasses fall to the couch instead. Her small palm stretches out, spanning the side of his face. Just touching him. "...you really are... Superman..." She finally whispers, voice barely more than a rasp. "... I don't know if I am going to pass out... or slap you..."

Clark Kent has posed:
It's hard. Clark really, really wants to return Lois's touch; he's marveling in just how gentle this dynamo of a woman can be. She can still effortlessly throw him for a loop. Superman 'sits up' mid-air, letting Lois get used to the idea that she's not going to fall anywhere as he grasps for an explanation.

"I have parents." Clark finally says, as if that explains it all. "I mean, you know I have parents, they keep inviting you to Christmas, but I went to high school with Lex Luthor. The man'd pave over Smallville if he realized the connection. I was raised Clark, I only found out about all...this when I was growing up. I."

Clark had rehearsed this conversation in his head a hundred times, and he never counted on not knowing what to say! "And then that O'Neil kid was so much braver than I've been and God I hope some maniac doesn't make him regret it, and I couldn't get over how much of my life I...I should've told you sooner. Under better circumstances. You're my best friend. But I couldn't let...what seemed like what was going to happen happen without you knowing."

Lois Lane has posed:
Once Lois drags in a few deep, controlling breaths through her nose, she's a little less likely to pass out. Even if her heart's still hammering in her chest and while she's touching him ever-so-gently, a face she's seen a dozen times before but always when she's been in some strange distress, her hand is faintly trembling now in a way that it never did even when she was injured. Her whole world is spinning and she's just trying to focus on remembering to breath and his face.

His very handsome, very familiar, face. A touch of anger and pinched hurt crosses her own gaze as her mind catches up with it all, throat tightening with an avalanche of emotions. "...Yes... Yes you very well fucking should have. And part of me wants to scream and throw things... maybe slug you, not that it'd matter. And another part of me still just wants to kiss you. But the rest of me..."

Her throat tightens as emotions finally crest. She blinks against tears she does *not* want to cry but can't really stop, one cutting a trail of moisture down her pale cheek. "Why couldn't you trust me? Fuck, Clark... you're my... Best friend. You should have trusted me." It seems her mind has settled on hurt more than anger. Anger would have been easier. Hurt just stings. Another tear dares escape down her opposite cheek.

Clark Kent has posed:
Lois is crying.

For the first time in Clark's life, he feels small. Clark sort of grips the air, letting his hand hover over Lois's shoulder, unsure if he's welcome to try and comfort her. He should've trusted her, but, well.

"You were one of the best reporters on the planet when we met and you've only gotten better over the years. Your dad was part of an anti-Superman government think tank." Clark says, looking up at the ceiling for a second as if to screw up his thoughts. "I could give you the line about my enemies but it's not like they were ever not trying to kill you. I. I guess for a while I..functioned because I compartmentalized everything. Kal-El was this strange person I could've been, though I'm a caveman by Kryptonian standards. Superman was this big show I put on so the government stopped making Alloy Zero and killer cyborgs because I roughed up a few campaign donors. Clark was supposed to be my...human me. The one who got to have friends, to a point, and could do the things Superman couldn't do without scaring people. He's crucial to my job."

"And then I started acting like myself around you." Clark says, and wonders if that makes any sense or just sounds schizophrenic. "And then I DIED, I had this whole adventure in the afterlife only my dad knew about..."

The walls are still laughing. Clark finally looks up, and his face looks very much like Superman. "Come on, man."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I'm being a voyeur." The pattern on the wall slowly twists into a comical, cartoonish exaggeration of a broad, funny face, bald with a big nose, a weak chin, and a tiny little hat. "But you really thought none of the old gang'd be around to watch you SQUIRM!"

The pattern of the wall ripples out into reality, shocking colors forming a walking, three dimensional sketch of a human being that quickly is shaded in, like an artist finishing a painting until a funny little man in a suit is walking on air. He hands Lois a handkerchief. "Mister Mxylplyx, at your service! Though we have met...ha ha ha haw!"

Lois Lane has posed:
Even their first date is so far from normal Lois couldn't write a book about it because no one would believe her. As Clark is spilling some of his deepest secrets and logic, a few other tears dare to cut their way across Lois' cheek. But the anger and hurt seem to be faintly fading. She's not screaming at him. She is listenig. Earnestly, openly, patiently listening. The pad of her thumb gently strokes across the edge of his chin, as if she's reassuring herself he's still there and real. But he is, and it's hard for her to stay mad at him too long. "If you ever... *Ever*... lie to me again..." Lois starts, but she falls quiet as he looks up.

Then her pale eyes are following his, and she blinks at the ceiling. "I have not taken enough drugs for this to be happening... I *swear*... Swear I'm sober tonight. This cannot be a bad trip." Maybe it was? Maybe the whole Superman thing is something made up in her head. Pale eyes fall into panic, blinking in his direction again, then back to the ceiling.

Which is now melting into being a human. Lois gives a little yelp, practically velcroing herself to Clark now as she scrambles across his shoulder and to hugging against his back, so she can put the Superman between herself and whatever just crawled out of her ceiling. "What the...fuck! Get the hell out of the apartment this is a PRIVATE conversation!" She hisses at the thing, but still seems a bit worried she's maybe tripping. "Clark, is that real? Tell me that thing isn't real..."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark, just for a second, feels a bit of hope. He squeezes her hand right back, gently, "I know a guy with a kryptonite ring you can borrow."

"Gag me!" Mxylplyx makes a cartoonish choking motion as he hovers, intruding on the intimate moment and clearly enjoying himself. "I could only take so much of this Mary Worth nonsense, Superstoop. You know the reason no one likes you anymore is all the waterworks, right?"

"He's very real." Clark says, putting a protective arm around Lois. "He won't hurt you. Mxyzpltk is a sorcerer-imp from the fifth dimension. I'm...sort of his hobby."

"Eloquently and uselessly put as ever! I can see why the Justice Losers make you their spokesman every year, Heathcliff." Mxyzpltk laughs his braying, obnoxious laugh. "See, Superman here forgot to mention one little wrinkle in this big secret you get to be a part of. He, ah."

"Outwitted you."

"CHEATED in one of our early clashes of wits and skill, and won a concession from me. I have to use kid gloves with anyone who isn't in on his little secret. I can turn Jimmy Olsen into a fifty foot turtle monster, but nothing...creative."

"And his magic's undone when I banish him back home." Superman says, his patience getting visibly thinner.

"Don't rush, don't rush!" Mxy holds his tiny hands up, "I'm here to help! This all happened because you got guilty about that teleporting cat kid, right? Visions of the Joker poisoning his folks or Ultron turning them into robots or whatever uninspired acts of mayhem the 'villains' in this VOLVO of a universe can manage. You got tongue tied, and you knew your counter was up. You had to tell her, and leave your darling Lois Lane a sobbing wreck. And you find out that both of the perfect men you were juggling." Mxy appears next to Lois, juggling a Clark Kent and Superman action figure a few times before smashing them together. "Were the same big, flawed liar."

"I can fix it." Mxyzpltk says, his bowler hat not looking so silly for a second, at just the right angle. "Make this tension-spoiling character development go poof like your brain cells in high school."

Lois Lane has posed:
While Lois would never admit to being scared and hiding behind Clark like a shield, that's definitely what she's doing right now. She's hanging off of his shoulders, keeping his strong frame firmly between herself and the thing that melted out of the ceiling. Her heart's galloping against his back, definitely more frightened than she's letting show through to the surface. If he was anyone but Superman, her fingertips might leave bruises on his biceps where she's clutching him.

A bit of genuine anger sprinkles through her expression as she listens to Mxy. "Oh... Fuck off, you two bit Houdini. We don't need your help and you don't get to be a part of this argument. I don't need anything *fixed*, other than your getting out of here. I also don't need kid gloves. I've spent a long time taking good care of myself and have a lot of people who want me dead. Another for that list really doesn't bother me. So... screw off if you don't want Clark just banishing you because I'm sure he can and he doesn't have to be gentle about it!"

Lois hopes, at least. She has no clue how this actually works, but she talks a good game while she's hiding behind Clark's shoulders.

Clark Kent has posed:
An entire universe swirls around in Mxyzpltk's beady little eyes, just for a moment.

And then he laughs out loud. "Ooooh can you pick em, CHUMP. Well I think my work is done here, so while you two have some incredibly DULL conversation I think I'll give my kid a hard time. Adieu SUCKERS!" And with that, the funny little man is gone in a puff of smoke.

Clark's shoulders relax, because as much as he hates to admit it there is nothing like Mxyzpltk to release some tension. Lois's heart sounds like it's going to explode and she still gave an omnipotent trickster god a piece of her mind.

"He's not a killer." Superman says, "And how you get rid of him is that you get him to say his name backwards. You'd be amazed at the number of ways there are to do that. I'm sorry. It's just...this is my life, I guess."

Lois Lane has posed:
As the thing goes, Lois crumples just a little bit against Clark's back. Her head sinks into his neck and she just leans there, breathing in shaky and deep for several heartbeats. How she didn't realize the two were the same before, when his scent alone now seems like a clarion call to the truth. But it also feels like safety and home. Lois' arms wrap forward, so she's fully hugging around his front, and she just leans there for a very long moment.

"I'll take 'not a killer' as a decent reassurance for the next super human thing I just pissed off. And... I've been a part of your life a long time now. Both your lives, really. I just didn't... realize they were the same. It's not a surprise. Well, not the Mxyzpltk thing, at least. The Superman thing..." She sighs, turning her head so her nose presses into his neck. It's like she's deciding if she has it in her to be pissed any more or not.

"Set me down. I want to look at you. Properly." Lois finally asks, though she's been holding on so tight and she's mostly calmed herself. She can't have a serious talk while half hiding against his back and smelling his neck.

Clark Kent has posed:
It feels like a threshold. Crossing the Rubicron, as the Romans used to say. Lois, Clark realizes, has the power here, and maybe that's a part of why it's taken so long; as much as he knew she'd, eventually, be okay, there was always that fear..

After all, look what happened to Lana. To Lex, after that awful fire?

"Sure." Clark says, gently setting Lois down on the couch and sitting down like a normal person himself. The disguise is, on reflection, almost all body language; Clark isn't sitting like 'office Clark' or like Superman in public. It's a whole different person, or some hybrid of the two Lois has only caught glimpses of in Clark's most unguarded moments.

He almost mentions the whole 'face vibration' thing he does for pictures and decides that, in fact, he's done plenty of talking tonight.

Lois Lane has posed:
When she's finally sitting, properly facing him, his glasses lost somewhere to the couch, Lois is quiet for a long few moments. She's done with tears, at least, the streaks down her cheeks almost totally dried and her blue eyes clear again as she studies him with a somber, considering expression. Her hand comes out again, to comb back through his hair and rest on the back of his neck. Touching him softens something in her face. She couldn't remain angry forever.

"It's shitty. Lying... for all that time? It's *shit* that you did that, Clark. Hell, I don't even know what name TO call you now. What do you want to be, when it's just us? Who *are* you? Really?" There's some aching behind her voice, the lingering hurt of his deception, but also pain for him. An ache to realize he's never been able to be totally open. "But we're here now. Hell. I think..." Her hand tightens against the back of his neck, "I think the only thing worse than realizing you haven't trusted me for a decade would be to lose you because of it."

She sinks forward, resting her forehead against his. Nose to nose. Her eyes shut now, just taking in a few slow breaths as she tries to consider exactly what to do with him. "...promise me this is it. No secrets... None again. If we're doing this... best friends, partners, whatever... We do it entirely. You PROMISE me, Clark. Whatever it is, you tell me. Because if I found out you were hiding something else, even if it was to protect me... I don't think I could trust you ever again. And fuck, I want *someone* to trust in this messed up world."

Clark Kent has posed:
There's a lot less punching, or screaming than Superman thought.

"Clark." Clark says, almost too quickly. "That's my name. Please. Superman's just my job." There are probably layers to the complex identity issues of being three people at once, but the great thing is Superman doesn't have to deal with them just now.

"I can't tell you the others." Clark says, when Lois demands no secrets. "It's all kind of a house of cards, I suppose, but I can't break my colleagues's trust when it comes to their identities. That's the only other secret in my life I have left." That he knows of! "I promise." And massaging the truth or no, neither Clark nor Superman has ever broken a promise to Lois.

Lois Lane has posed:
The fact he wants to be called Clark sets her at ease, somehow. Because for all the times she's called him Kansas, and that probably won't stop either, he's always been Clark in her heart. It's good to know he is, somehow, still Clark. "Clark. Good. Well...Kansas, when you're being an idiot, or I need your attention... or I feel like it. But... Clark. You're still my *Clark*." That seems to matter to her a lot, that the life they've built together at the paper isn't just some sham or cover identity, but a life he actually lives and loves.

She pulls back just enough that she can see his eyes, her own glimmering just a bit again with tears she's not going to let herself spend this time around. "If... Clark is real. If everything we had is... real and true, you just are those other things too, then... I guess it's the best of both worlds." A bittersweet smile cuts across her lips. While she's adjusting, there's still some hurt there. "Both men I've spent a... long... fucking time caring about are...the same person. I'm just an idiot for not seeing it before. But... we're here now. And that matters."

And then she's pressing forward again. Moving to take that kiss which was so shockingly interrupted a good bit ago. It's still shockingly tender as kisses go, but won't remain that way. The passion is there, a happy distraction from the emotions she's still sorting through. And she's going for the buttons of his shirt once again.