The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Pentagon briefing room as Colonel James Rhodes approached the podium, cameras tracking his every move. Despite his immaculate uniform and practiced composure, there was tension in his shoulders that only his closest friends would notice. Behind him, screens displayed satellite imagery of Gulmira, smoke still rising from what had clearly been a significant confrontation.
"An unfortunate training exercise involving an F-22 Raptor occurred yesterday," Rhodey began, his voice steady but measured. He'd rehearsed this statement a dozen times, knowing every word would be analyzed. "I am pleased to report that the pilot was not injured."
"Colonel Rhodes!" Andrea Mitchell from NBC pushed forward, recorder extended. "Multiple sources confirm Superman's involvement in the pilot's rescue. Can you address these reports?"
Rhodey's grip tightened slightly on the podium's edges. "As for the unexpected turn of events on the ground in Gulmira, it is still unclear who or what intervened, but I can assure you that the United States government was not involved."
"What about the armored figure witnesses described?" Christine Everhart's voice cut through the growing chorus of questions. "And the black aircraft with stealth capabilities beyond anything in our current arsenal?"
"I'm not at liberty to speculate about unconfirmed reports," Rhodey replied, though something flickered in his eyes at the mention of the armor. He knew that design signature, even if he couldn't admit it. "What I can tell you is that we're conducting a full investigation into the incident."
"Colonel!" Wolf Blitzer shouldered forward. "The President has expressed serious concerns about unauthorized interventions in military operations. How do you respond?"
In his Malibu mansion, Obadiah Stane watched the press conference with growing fury, his tumbler of scotch forgotten as Rhodey continued damage control. The morning light caught the gray in his beard, making him look older than usual. Or maybe it was just the strain of watching carefully laid plans unravel.
"The President's concerns are understandable," Rhodey was saying, adjusting his collar in a tell Tony would have recognized. "Any unauthorized entry into active combat zones presents significant risks to military personnel and ongoing operations."
"But what about the civilians?" A reporter from Al Jazeera pressed. "Our sources in Gulmira report the intervention prevented a massacre!"
"While the protection of civilian life is always our highest priority," Rhodey chose his words carefully, "we have established protocols and chains of command for a reason. Unauthorized actions, regardless of intention, can compromise complex military operations and put more lives at risk."
Stane's phone buzzed - Luthor's name flashing on the screen. He let it go to voicemail, his jaw clenching as he remembered their prototype's spectacular failure in Metropolis. Millions in development, wasted because they'd underestimated the radiation's psychological effects on Corbin. Now this mess in Gulmira...
"What about the weapons, Colonel?" Christine's voice carried that particular edge that made PR departments nervous. "Stark Industries technology was identified at the scene. How did terrorists acquire such advanced military hardware?"
Stane's glass cracked slightly in his grip.
"That's an ongoing investigation," Rhodey deflected smoothly. "I'm not at liberty to discuss-"
"But Superman was there!" Anderson Cooper cut in. "Along with what witnesses described as some kind of armored figure! And a third unknown party! Are we looking at some kind of superhuman task force?"
—
Meanwhile, in Tony's workshop, a very different scene was unfolding. Pepper's heels clicked against concrete as she made her way down the stairs, navigating around scattered tools and holographic displays still showing battle damage assessments. The sound of breaking metal caught her attention first, then Tony's voice:
"Hey! Ow! Ah... ah!"
"It is a tight fit, sir," JARVIS observed with what might have been a hint of AI amusement. "Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt."
"Be gentle," Tony replied through gritted teeth as robotic arms worked to remove damaged armor plates. "This is my first time. I designed this to come off, so... Hey! I really should be able to..."
"Please try not to move, sir," JARVIS advised as another panel sparked protest.
Pepper reached the bottom of the stairs, taking in the shattered glass and scorched concrete before her eyes traveled upward. The sight before her made her stop dead in her tracks.
"What's going on here?"
Everything froze. Tony stood on a raised platform, pieces of red and gold armor being removed one at a time by mechanical arms descending from the ceiling. His expression cycled through several emotions before settling on forced casual.
"Let's face it. This is not the worst thing you've caught me doing."
Pepper moved closer, shock evident on her face as she studied the sophisticated armor. Her eyes caught on something that made her breath catch.
"Are those bullet holes?"
Before Tony could respond, Rhodey's voice from the workshop TV drew their attention: "I want to emphasize that while we appreciate any assistance that protects American lives, we cannot condone unauthorized activities in active combat zones. The President has been very clear about this."
—
In his office, Stane finally reached for his phone, fingers hovering over Luthor's number as Rhodey continued damage control. The situation was spiraling - first Corbin's breakdown, now this clusterfuck in Gulmira. They'd planned everything so carefully, but somehow it was all starting to unravel.
The call connected with a click that felt like destiny shifting.
"Lionel? We need to talk about our little science project." His voice carried carefully controlled fury. "No, not Corbin - though that's another issue we'll need to address. I'm talking about the prototype. The one that was supposed to be untraceable." He paused, listening. "Well clearly something went wrong, because we've got Superman, some kind of armored player, and what sounds like the Batman all showing up at exactly the wrong moment."
He moved to his office window as Rhodey wrapped up the press conference: "The United States military remains committed to protecting both American interests and civilian lives through proper channels and established protocols. Thank you, no further questions."
"No," Stane continued, watching reporters swarm Rhodey as he left the podium. "No, this isn't just a setback. This is a serious problem. We need to accelerate the timeline." Another pause, his reflection growing harder in the window glass. "Yes, I know the risks. But we're running out of options. They're getting too close."
The call ended with a finality that felt like a door closing. On screen, Rhodey made his final statement: "The situation remains under investigation. We ask for patience as we work to determine exactly what occurred in Gulmira. Thank you."
Back in the workshop, Pepper was still staring at the bullet holes in Tony's armor, her expression a mix of horror and dawning understanding. The TV continued in the background, but neither of them was listening anymore. Everything had changed - again - and they both knew it.
"Tony," she said softly, fingers reaching toward but not quite touching the damaged metal. "What did you do?"
His eyes met hers, and for once, Tony Stark had no clever comeback. Because how do you explain that sometimes the only choice is the impossible one? That sometimes you have to become something else entirely to fix what you helped break?
—
The Daily Planet newsroom buzzed with frantic energy, TV screens on every wall showing Colonel Rhodes' press conference. Clark watched from his desk as footage played yet again - shaky camera shots of Superman rescuing the F-22 pilot, blurred images of what witnesses described as some kind of armored figure, and grainy shots of an unidentified aircraft that had military analysts baffled.
"No comment is still a comment, General," Lois was saying into her phone, that particular edge in her voice that meant she was onto something big. "Especially when Superman intervenes in an active military operation." She paused, listening. "Oh, so you're telling me Colonel Rhodes' press conference this morning was just coincidence?"
On screen, Rhodey maintained his composure as reporters shouted questions: "An unfortunate training exercise involving an F-22 Raptor occurred yesterday. I am pleased to report that the pilot was not injured. As for the unexpected turn of events on the ground in Gulmira, it is still unclear who or what intervened, but I can assure you that the United States government was not involved."
"Fine, have it your way." Lois hung up with perhaps more force than necessary. "But don't think this is over!" She turned to fix Clark with a look that made his heart skip. "Can you believe these people? Superman shows up in a conflict zone, along with some kind of advanced tech we've never seen before, and suddenly everyone's got amnesia?"
"Maybe they're being cautious," Clark suggested, adjusting his glasses. The gesture felt different now, knowing that tonight she'd understand why he did it. "It's not every day Superman gets involved in international incidents."
"That's exactly my point!" Lois pushed back from her desk, rolling her chair over to his side of the divider. "This is huge, Clark. Superman's always been careful about military operations before. What made this different? And who were those others with him? That armor looked more advanced than anything even Stark Industries has revealed."
Clark nodded, remembering the kryptonite stockpiles they'd found, the way the armored figure had adapted to counter the radiation, how the mysterious aircraft had seemed to anticipate every move. "You might be right about that."
"Might be?" She raised an eyebrow in that way that always made him want to kiss her. "Since when does Clark Kent doubt my reporter's instincts?"
He smiled, reaching for her hand across their shared desk space. "Never. But maybe we could discuss it over dinner tonight? At my place?"
Something in his tone made her pause. She studied his face with the same intensity she brought to breaking stories. "Your place?"
"I thought I could cook," he said softly. "That pasta you liked last time. And... there's something I need to tell you. Something important."
Before she could respond, Jimmy burst into their corner of the newsroom, camera bouncing against his chest. "Guys! You seeing this? The President's office just released a statement about Superman's intervention in Gulmira! They're calling it a 'concerning breach of international protocol'!"
"We know, Jimmy," Lois said, but her eyes hadn't left Clark's face. "We've been watching the coverage all morning."
"But this is different!" Jimmy gestured at the TV where the footage had switched to a White House briefing. "They're saying Superman's actions could have serious diplomatic consequences. And nobody can explain that armored figure or the stealth aircraft witnesses reported!"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Clark said, finally breaking eye contact with Lois. "Any luck with those satellite photos?"
"Still processing through the Planet's system." Jimmy dropped into a spare chair. "But I managed to enhance a few frames. You can clearly see Superman engaging with the terrorists, and there's something else moving through the compound - something mechanical, but like nothing we've ever seen before."
"Send them to my email," Lois said, professional focus returning though her hand stayed in Clark's. "And see if you can get anything clearer of the ground operations. There have to be better shots of what they were targeting."
"On it!" Jimmy bounced up, then paused. "Oh, almost forgot - Perry wants to see you both. Something about the diplomatic fallout?"
Clark watched him go, then turned back to the TV where the White House Press Secretary was speaking: "While we appreciate Superman's intentions, unauthorized intervention in military operations, especially in sensitive international zones, cannot become the norm..."
"We should probably..." Clark gestured vaguely toward Perry's office.
"Yeah." Lois stood, but didn't release his hand. "But tonight? Your place?"
He nodded, heart racing slightly. "Eight o'clock? I'll pick up that wine you like."
"The one from the Italian place?" A smile touched her lips. "You spoil me, Smallville."
They made their way to Perry's office, dodging interns and navigating around Steve Lombard's latest attempt to reorganize the sports desk. Through the glass walls, they could see their editor gesturing at his own TV where the press conference was still playing.
"I don't care what the military says," Perry was saying into his phone as they entered. "Superman doesn't just randomly show up in combat zones. And he definitely doesn't bring friends. Get me something concrete!" He hung up, fixing them with his patented editor's glare. "Please tell me you two have something better than diplomatic double-talk."
"Working on it, Chief," Lois said, dropping into one of the visitor chairs. "My source at State hints there's more to this than just Superman playing world police."
"And I've got calls out to some local contacts," Clark added, settling beside her. It felt strange, knowing that tonight he'd be able to tell her exactly how he knew what had happened in Gulmira. "People who were there when everything went down."
Perry studied them both, years of newspaper experience showing in his shrewd expression. "Alright, what aren't you telling me?"
"The weapons," Lois said before Clark could respond. "They weren't just standard terrorist hardware. We're talking cutting-edge military tech that shouldn't even exist yet, let alone be in that region."
"And the timing," Clark added, remembering how precisely coordinated the intervention had been. "Three different parties all converging on the same target? That's not coincidence."
Perry leaned back in his chair, absently straightening his tie. "So we've got Superman breaking his usual pattern, some kind of advanced armor that nobody wants to claim, and a stealth aircraft that shouldn't exist. Plus, whatever they were all there to stop." He shook his head. "Lane, Kent - whatever this is, it's bigger than one story."
"We know, Chief." Lois leaned forward, that familiar fire in her eyes. "Give us time to put the pieces together. There's a pattern here, we just need to find it."
"You've got 48 hours," Perry said after a moment. "Then I want something solid for the Sunday edition. And I mean solid - not just speculation about secret government projects or corporate conspiracies."
"You'll have it," Clark promised, already planning how tonight's revelation would help explain his own role in the story.
They left Perry's office together, Lois already pulling out her phone to make more calls. But before they reached their desks, she caught Clark's arm.
"Hey." Her voice softened in that way that was just for him. "This thing you want to tell me tonight... you're sure everything's okay?"
He looked at her - really looked, taking in every detail he'd memorized over their months together. The tiny scar above her left eyebrow from a childhood accident. The way her nose crinkled slightly when she was worried. The absolute trust in her eyes that somehow made him feel more powerful than his powers ever had.
"Everything's perfect," he said softly. "I just... I need you to know all of me. No more hiding."
Something shifted in her expression - understanding maybe, or the beginning of it. "Okay," she squeezed his arm gently. "Eight o'clock?"
"Eight o'clock."
The afternoon passed in a blur of work and anticipation. Clark filed his initial story about the diplomatic response, careful to maintain his usual tone while dealing with events he'd witnessed firsthand. Lois terrorized half the State Department's press office, earning that particular set to her jaw that meant she was getting close to something big. On TV, analysts debated the implications of Superman's actions, speculating about what could have driven him to intervene so directly in military affairs.
Finally, as the sun began to set behind Metropolis's towers, Lois started packing up her desk. "Walk me to my car?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question anymore. Some rituals had become comfortable certainties.
They took the elevator down together, her shoulder brushing his arm in that casual intimacy they'd developed. The parking garage was quiet this time of evening, their footsteps echoing slightly.
"You sure you don't want to just come over now?" Lois asked as they reached her car. "We could order in, maybe look over those satellite photos Jimmy found..."
Clark smiled, though his heart raced slightly. "I need a little time to get everything ready. This... what I need to tell you... it's important that it's right."
She studied him for a moment, then rose on tiptoes to kiss him softly. "Okay, Smallville. Eight o'clock it is." She opened her car door, then paused. "Just... whatever it is, remember that I love you. All of you."
"I love you too," he said softly, the words carrying more weight than usual. "More than I can say."
He watched her drive away, already counting the minutes until eight o'clock. Behind him, the Daily Planet's globe cast its familiar light across the city. Soon she would understand why he always looked up at it, why he felt drawn to this place of truth and justice.
Soon she would know all of him - not just Clark Kent or Superman, but everything in between. The thought terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.
But first, he had a dinner to prepare. And a truth to finally share.
Clark's hands shook slightly as he lit the last candle. The pasta was ready, kept warm in the oven. Wine breathing on the counter - that Sangiovese she loved from the Italian place near the Planet. Everything perfect, everything in place, but his heart wouldn't stop racing.
He'd changed his shirt three times before settling on the blue button-down she'd gotten him for his birthday. The one she said brought out his eyes. Eyes that would soon hold no secrets from her.
The knock came at exactly eight, because of course it did. Lois Lane was many things, but rarely late. He took a deep breath, adjusting glasses he wouldn't need much longer, and opened the door.
She stood there in that green dress he loved, the one she'd worn on their first real date at Bella Notte. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and the smile she gave him still made his heart skip even after all these months.
"Hi," she said softly, holding up a paper bag. "I brought dessert. Those cannoli you like from Mario's."
"You didn't have to-"
"I know." She stepped inside, close enough that he could smell her perfume - jasmine and something uniquely Lois. "But you seemed nervous earlier. And nervous you needs sugar."
He laughed despite himself, taking the bag as she shrugged off her coat. "That obvious, huh?"
"Clark." She turned to face him, reaching up to straighten his collar in that unconscious gesture he'd grown to love. "I've been watching you fidget all day. Whatever this is, whatever you need to tell me..." She met his eyes steadily. "We'll figure it out together."
If only she knew how much those words meant. How many times he'd imagined this moment, planned what he'd say, how he'd explain. Now that it was here, all his practiced speeches felt inadequate.
"Wine first?" he offered, buying himself another moment.
"Please."
He led her to the kitchen where dinner waited. Her eyes widened slightly at the carefully set table, the candles, the obvious effort he'd put into everything.
"Clark Kent," she said, accepting the wine glass he offered. "You've been holding out on me. This looks amazing."
"You're amazing," he replied automatically, then blushed. "I mean... I wanted tonight to be special."
She studied him over the rim of her glass, that reporter's instinct he loved clearly working overtime. "You're really not going to give me any hints about what this is about?"
"After dinner?" He pulled out her chair. "I promise, everything will make sense then."
They ate, making comfortable conversation about work, about Perry's latest tirade, about Jimmy's endless enthusiasm. But underneath ran a current of anticipation that made Clark's hands unsteady as he served the pasta.
"The military's still stonewalling about Gulmira," Lois said, twirling perfect strands of linguine around her fork. "But my source at State let something slip. Apparently there was more going on there than just terrorists with stolen weapons."
Clark's heart jumped slightly. "Oh?"
"Mm-hmm." She took a sip of wine. "Something about energy readings they couldn't explain. Similar to what they detected during Superman's fight with Metallo." Her eyes fixed on him. "Interesting timing, don't you think?"
"Very," he managed, adjusting his glasses again. Soon she'd understand why he did that, why he'd developed so many little habits to seem more human.
Finally, when the pasta was finished and the wine nearly gone, Lois set down her fork. "Alright, Smallville. You've been watching me all night like you're memorizing my face. Want to tell me what's really going on?"
Clark stood, hands trembling slightly as he cleared their plates. "Maybe we should move to the living room?"
She followed him, settling on the couch where they'd spent so many evenings together. How many times had she fallen asleep against his chest while they watched old movies? How many mornings had he pretended to wake up when she stirred, though he'd been awake for hours just listening to her heartbeat?
"Clark?" Her voice brought him back to the moment. "You're starting to scare me a little."
He sat beside her, taking her hands in his. They felt so small, so delicate, though he knew better than anyone how strong Lois Lane could be.
"I love you," he said softly. "More than I've ever loved anyone. And I need you to know all of me. No more secrets, no more hiding."
"Okay..." She squeezed his hands encouragingly.
"What I'm about to tell you... show you... it's going to change everything." He met her eyes, willing her to understand. "And if you need time to process it, or if you're angry I didn't tell you sooner, I'll understand. But I need you to know that everything between us - every moment, every feeling - that's all been real."
"Clark, you're talking like..." She trailed off as he stood, moving to the center of the room. "Like what?"
Instead of answering, he reached for his glasses. Such a simple gesture, one he'd performed thousands of times. But this time, as he set them carefully on the coffee table, he let the change happen naturally. His posture straightened, his shoulders squared, the careful slouch falling away to reveal something else entirely.
"The reason I disappeared during the Metallo fight," he said quietly. "The reason I always seem to get Superman exclusives. The reason I can hear your heartbeat from across the city..."
Lois stared at him, confusion shifting to disbelief as he began unbuttoning his shirt. The blue fabric beneath caught the lamplight, that familiar 'S' shield emerging like a revelation.
"No," she said flatly. "No, this isn't... you can't be..."
The shirt fell away completely, and there was no denying it now. Clark Kent - her Clark, who brought her coffee every morning and kissed her forehead when he thought she was sleeping - stood before her in Superman's suit.
"This is crazy." She stood abruptly, wine sloshing in her forgotten glass. "This is... you're Clark. My Clark. The guy who trips over his own feet and apologizes to furniture when he bumps into it. You can't be..."
"Superman?" He floated slightly, just enough to remove any doubt. "I am. Both of them. All of me."
"Stop that!" Her voice cracked slightly. "Just... stop floating and be Clark again. My Clark, who gets nervous about ordering takeout and lets me steal his fries at lunch and..."
She trailed off as he landed gently. "I am your Clark," he said softly. "That's never been fake. The nervousness, the awkwardness - that's all real. It's just... not all of me."
"This isn't happening." Lois set down her wine with shaking hands. "I'm dreaming, or I've finally cracked from too many all-nighters, or..."
"Lois." He took a step toward her, but she backed away.
"Don't." Her reporter's mind was visibly racing, connecting dots she'd never let herself see before. "All those disappearances. All those convenient Superman stories. All those times you knew things you couldn't possibly have known..."
"Yes."
"And that morning after Metallo... you weren't sick at all, were you? The radiation..."
"Affected me, yes." He watched understanding dawn in her eyes, followed quickly by anger.
"You lied to me." The words came out barely above a whisper. "All this time, every day, you looked me in the eye and lied."
"I protected you," he corrected gently. "The fewer people who knew, the safer everyone would be. But I can't keep lying to you, Lois. Not when I love you this much."
"Love me?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Do you have any idea how many times I've talked to you about Superman? Told Clark Kent how amazing Superman is, how much I admired him? Do you know how STUPID that makes me feel?"
"You're the least stupid person I know," he said firmly. "You've suspected something was different about me for months. But you respected my privacy, never pushed too hard. That's one of the reasons I love you."
"Don't." She held up a hand. "Just... don't tell me why you love me right now. I can't..." She ran fingers through her hair, messing up the careful waves. "I interviewed you! Both of you! Over and over! How did you... all those Superman exclusives, always getting quotes no one else could..."
"The stories needed to be told," he said quietly. "And you were always the best person to tell them. Your integrity, your passion for truth - I trusted you with Superman's voice because I already trusted Lois Lane."
"Oh my god." She sank back onto the couch, her mind racing through months of memories with new understanding. "Oh my god. That's why you never get tired during stakeouts. Why Clark Kent somehow always knows when a story's about to break. Why you hear things before anyone else..."
"Yes."
"And your parents?" Her head snapped up. "Do they know? No, of course they know. Martha's garden - the vegetables are so perfect because you help tend them with your powers. Jonathan's tractor never breaks down because you maintain it. The whole farm..."
"They've known since they found me," he said quietly. "They're the ones who taught me to hide, to protect myself and others. The glasses were my mother's idea."
"Found you?" Her voice was barely a whisper as another piece clicked into place. "The Kents found you. That's why... all those questions I asked Superman about his adopted parents..."
"They found me in a field," he confirmed softly. "A baby in a spacecraft. They could have turned me in, but instead they chose to protect me. To raise me as their own."
"And everything you told me in the interview - about Krypton, about being sent here..." She stopped, pressing her hands against her temples. "God, I wrote those stories. I quoted you explaining your own origin story."
"Every word was true," he said gently. "Just not complete. I couldn't tell you then that the alien you were interviewing was the same person who brought you coffee every morning."
She stopped pacing, studying him with new intensity. "All those times you disappeared during Metallo's attacks. When Superman would show up and Clark Kent would be nowhere to be found..." Her expression shifted between understanding and disbelief. "I defended you to Perry! Made excuses about you chasing leads while Superman was right there saving the day!"
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For all the lies, the disappearances, the excuses."
"But which one is real?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Superman? Clark? This new person standing in my boyfriend's apartment wearing a supersuit under business casual?"
"All of them." He reached for her hands, relief flooding through him when she didn't pull away. "Superman is what I can do. Clark is who I am. But with you... with you I get to be both. All of me, no pretending."
"This is insane." But her fingers tightened on his. "I'm dating Superman. I've been sleeping with Superman. Oh god, that morning in my kitchen..."
"Was perfect," he finished softly. "Just like every morning I get to wake up next to you. Even if I have to pretend to wake up when you do."
That startled a laugh out of her. "You fake wake up?"
"I don't need as much sleep as humans." He smiled slightly. "But I love watching you sleep, listening to your heartbeat, memorizing the way sunrise plays across your face."
"That's..." She shook her head. "That's either the most romantic or the creepiest thing anyone's ever said to me. I haven't decided which."
"Take your time." He squeezed her hands gently. "I know this is a lot to process."
"A lot to..." She pulled away, laughing again with that edge of hysteria. "Clark, finding out your boyfriend secretly plays in a band is 'a lot to process.' This is... this is..."
"World-changing?"
"Life-changing." She sank back onto the couch, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything I thought I knew about you, about us..."
Clark watched her, his enhanced senses picking up every detail he might need to remember if this was the last time: the slight tremor in her hands, her heartbeat's uneven rhythm, the way her perfume mixed with the lingering scent of the pasta he'd cooked. He'd imagined this moment a thousand times, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of watching the woman he loved try to reconcile her partner with her hero.
"I need..." Lois stood suddenly, then swayed slightly. Clark fought the instinct to steady her, knowing she needed this space. "I need time. To think. To understand..."
She moved to gather her coat, but her usually steady hands fumbled with the buttons. Clark stood perfectly still, every muscle tense with the effort of not helping, not reaching out, not trying to fix this. He'd spent his whole life controlling his powers, but this - watching Lois struggle and staying back - might be the hardest test of that control yet.
"Of course," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. "Whatever you need. However long you need."
She paused at the door, one hand on the knob, and Clark's superhearing caught her heart skip. For a moment, neither of them breathed.
"Clark?" Her voice carried a vulnerability he'd never heard before, not even during their most dangerous investigations.
"Yes?"
"You could have told me anytime." It wasn't quite a question. "All those late nights working, all those stakeouts, all those moments when I thought I was protecting you from danger..."
"You did protect me," he said softly. "Not from physical danger, maybe. But you protected what matters most - my humanity. The way you see Clark Kent, value him, believe in him... that's saved me more times than any superpower."
She turned then, and the look in her eyes made his heart clench. "But was any of it real? The clumsy moments, the missed deadlines, the way you'd get winded climbing stairs..."
"The feelings were real," he stepped forward, then caught himself. "Are real. The rest... you're right. We need to talk about the lies, about boundaries, about trust. But Lois, please believe this - every moment I fell more in love with you was completely genuine."
Her laugh held an edge of something between hysteria and wonder. "Love. God, Clark, I just spent months worrying about you facing danger as a reporter while you were out there lifting buildings and fighting Metallo."
"I wanted to tell you so many times," he admitted. "Every time you defended Clark Kent's disappeared during Superman stories. Every time you made excuses to Perry about where I was. Every time you looked at me with such concern when I came back disheveled from what you thought was just chasing a lead..."
"Stop," she held up a hand. "Just... stop. I can't handle third-person Clark Kent right now." She took a deep breath. "I need to process this. All of it. The lies, the truth, the fact that my partner and the man I've been falling in love with is also the person I've been writing headlines about for months."
Clark's heart soared and sank simultaneously at her words - she'd been falling in love with him, but the past tense stung. "I understand."
"No, you don't," she said, but her tone held more exhaustion than anger. "You've had your whole life to reconcile Clark Kent and Superman. I've had twenty minutes."
She opened the door but paused again in the threshold. The hallway light caught her profile, and Clark committed this moment to his perfect memory too.
"Clark?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you." Her voice was steady now. "For trusting me with this. I'm not saying I'm okay with all the lying - I'm not. And we are definitely going to have several very long conversations about boundaries and secret identities and what constitutes acceptable omission versus outright deception..."
"I look forward to it," he said softly, meaning it more than she could know.
"But." She turned to face him fully, and the strength in her eyes reminded him why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place. "I love you too. Both of you. All of you. Whatever that means now."
The door closed behind her with a quiet click that seemed to echo in Clark's superhearing. He stood motionless, listening to her heartbeat move down the hallway, into the elevator, out to the street. Every step felt like it carried a piece of his heart with it.