Given the sensitive nature of the information contained within this article, I will not be publishing it on any public forum. It is purely for my own personal documentation of the important events that transpired on this particular night.
- Lois Lane

I simultaneously enjoy and hate working late. On the one hand, I have some peace and quiet to write my articles once the rest of the Planet staff has left (Perry trusts his star reporter enough to let me use the office alone at night or on holidays). On the other, it's also quite lonely, and the lack of a time limit often leads to me tiring myself out in the early hours of the morning. But it was just something I had to put up with on this particular night. I had an article to write up.

I had been abducted by goons hired by Lex Luthor earlier that very day, but Superman had, of course, arrived in the nick of time to save me and foil the madman's evil scheme. Now, only a few hours later, I was back at work, writing up the Planet's headline for the following morning about my own abduction. Perry had insisted that someone else write the piece; someone like Clark Kent. But I'm as stubborn as a mule - a trait inherited from my father - and would never be satisfied with anyone else's perspective on my own abduction. Ultimately, as he often does when dealing with me, Perry relented.

Before leaving me to hand Luthor and his goons off to the authorities, Superman had left me with the number to a phone he planned to contact me with later to check in on me. Presumably, this was his 'work phone' and not his personal number. While most assume Superman has no alter ego, I knew better. Even a god amongst men needs to take a break and blend in with the masses every now and then. Regardless, I knew instinctively that this number would not have been handed out to just anyone. I couldn't help but grin like a schoolgirl with a crush at the thought. I could hold back the giggle though.

I received the call at 22:45 while typing at my desk. It was strange to speak to such a famous figure over the phone. It brought to mind times I had spoken with movie stars for stories in the past, but this was entirely different. It was closer to speaking with Jesus Christ than with Ben Affleck. I started to wonder what his texts would be like. Would he use emoji?

Superman asked if I would be willing to meet so he could check up on me. Apparently, his x-ray vision would provide a thorough examination of my potential injuries. I had been looked over by the paramedics, of course, but he said he wanted to be sure. I had a fairly solid idea what his motivation for such a thing might be.

I let him in through the roof and led him down into my office; the same one in which I conducted my first interview with him. He questioned the need to go inside, to which I responded that it was cold, and I was wearing a skirt. There was another reason and I suspected he knew that. His super hearing can probably pick up on a lie of omission. In truth, I wanted some privacy for what I wanted to discuss with him.

Once inside my office, I allowed him to scan me with his x-ray vision.

"Everything looks good, Ms. Lane," he reported. "Fortunately."

"Good to know," I replied in what, admittedly, was an unnecessarily uninterested tone. "But I have to know: why do you still call me 'Ms. Lane' instead of Lois?" The question took him aback, just as I predicted it would.

"W-Well, I didn't want to overstep and assume we were close enough friends for that."

'Oh, nice save,' I thought. But that wasn't quite convincing enough for me. "Or, is it so I wouldn't realise just how similar you sound when you say my name?"

"...Similar to whom?" I had him on the ropes now.

"You said the 'S' is Kryptonian for hope, but are you sure it doesn't stand for... 'Smallville'?" My smug, victorious grin was as broad as Superman's chest now. He sighed, seeing no way out, and I pumped my fist in victory at this affirmation.

"H-How did you figure it out?" I had seen him acting flustered as Clark, but either because it was genuine or because it was in his Superman persona, I found him incredibly cute in this moment.

"Relax, Smallville. It wasn't easy for me, so don't worry. I doubt most people could figure it out. But this is Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist Lois Lane you're dealing with."

"Geez, Ms. Lane, show some humility," Clark replied, in a nervously joking tone.

"Nuh-uh. After this victory, I'm God-Queen of the universe. Wait, space doesn't have a government, does it?"

"Eh, kind of."

"Tell me more, please."

"Answer my question first, please." He was starting to regain the advantage. I couldn't have that.

"I'd have thought 'I'm Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist Lois Lane' would be enough."

"Lois." Though I'll never admit it aloud, I couldn't deny the incredible power of Superman using my first name. Especially in so stern a tone, with such an appropriately steely gaze. In an instant, the playful tone of the interaction was gone. This was serious.

I coughed. "Sorry. It was a few things. Your shared city of operation. Your somewhat similar features. Your similar codes of ethics and drives to help people. There's your history with your high school drama club, where you learned how to play a character. But not well enough, I'm afraid. You can split up your quirks and personality traits between mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent and the Metropolis Marvel, but they're both still you, Clark."

"I guess you know me a lot better than I thought," he replied, sounding impressed.

"Yep. And then, there's the timing of your move to Metropolis and Superman's debut. It's like if Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham right before Bat... Holy shit, Bruce Wayne is Batman! He is, isn't he!?"

"I-It's not my place to say-" Clark's acting has some obvious cracks in it when he's put on the spot.

"Oh, my God, he is! Next, you're going to tell me Oliver Queen is the Green..."

"Lois! Don't make me use my super memory-erasure kiss on you."

"Get real. You don't have a power like that."

"Would you really be surprised if I did?"

"I- Hmm..." Silence fell for a few moments before Clark spoke up again.

"And I suppose I should admit, before you ask, that yes, Kara is Supergirl."

"I thought as much. What, with the timing of it all, in conjunction with the whole mysterious cousin thing. But isn't she fifteen? You let your teenage cousin be a superhero!?"

"First of all, Girl of Steel. Second, teenage girl. If you had Kara's powers at that age, could Sam have stopped you?"

"…Well, you got me there. Wow, there's way more to take in here than I thought there'd be. Heh. I've been on dates with three superheroes. Are Bruce and Oliver really like that, or is it an act to separate their two personas, like your mild-mannered reporter act?"

"I'm not sure I like how giddy you sound."

"Oh, it was for stories. You know the only one of the three of you that means anything to me is you."

"...You're not lying."

"Are you listening to my heart right now? So, you do like me," I said jokingly.

"Lois, I love you."

My face must have turned as red as Superman's briefs- Cape! Red as his cape! I quickly pressed my ear against his chest to see if he was lying. I'd gotten quite good at it, but this was Superman, after all. After realising this, I realised how strange I must look and backed away.

With a cough, I tried to turn the tables once more. "A-Anyway, if that's true, why did you never tell me? Do you not trust me?"

"No, I do trust you, Lois. I just... I didn't know you very well when I first started out. And then, as I got to know you better, I did want to. But by then, you'd built up a famous rapport with Superman, which made you an obvious target for my enemies. Like today, with Lex. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt because of your association with me."

"Clark, Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist Lois Lane was already a target long before you ever put on that form-fitting blue suit. Of course, back then, it was the M.P.D. that would rescue me. Not only do you speed up the process, but you negate the need for officers to risk their own lives to save mine, and my association with you is a warning for most criminals to stay the hell away from me."

"That's true, but-"

"But nothing. I appreciate the concern. I really do. But it really is unfounded. Knowing you're out there makes it easier for me to speak the truth without fear. I wouldn't be half the reporter I am today without you flying around the city and keeping it safe. There's more to this that that, isn't there?"

"Y-Yes. I was... Well, I was worried that, if you knew I was Superman, you'd only like me for my flashy superhero persona. I wanted you to like me for the mild-mannered reporter that's honestly closer to the real me than Superman ever was."

I would never have believed such a claim, had I not heard the man himself say it. Despite the courageous bravado he displayed as the Man of Steel, Clark really is just as scared of rejection and shallow relationships as anyone else. Even me.

"I... kinda get it. Honestly, I did worry people would only be drawn to me because of my fame. Or my looks. But looking back, I don't remember you ever really discussing either. You compliment my looks when we go out and you encourage my work, but when it comes to real topics of conversation, you always have shown more interest in me as a person.

"That's why I agreed to let you x-ray me. I'd never know for sure that Superman wouldn't use the opportunity to sneak a peek at the goods, but you, Smallville... I know I can trust you. I mean, yes, you've technically been lying to me for years, but it was for understandable reasons, so I don't hold it against you. Hell, I might well have gone public with it early on, but knowing what you mean to Metropolis, what you mean to me... there's no way I could ever do that now. ...Oh, wow. How did I never realise before? I think I really do love you too, Smallville."

Clark smiled. "Analysing one's own heart is a lot harder than analysing even a stranger's."

I smiled in return. "I'm pretty good, right? I think Batman can hand over his 'World's Greatest Detective' crown now."

"It feels like you keep talking about your ex..."

"So he is Batman!"

Clark leaned in and kissed me. For a second, I worried his alleged memory-erasure kiss was real. But it was just a normal kiss. And a very good one. Once Clark pulled away, I couldn't help but grin goofily. "But he's no Superman."

"Nope. But, do you know who is?"

"The man who's coming back to my place after this?"

"Not what I was going to say, but sure, let's go with that. Oh, just give me a minute to change and we can head over. Better if it's Lois and Clark than Lois and Superman."

"But it's more special if you fly me there in your arms," I said in a pouty manner.

"Okay, but just this once. I'm not a taxi service."

"You're whatever I tell you you are, mister. I know your identity, so I hold all the cards here."

"Sam would be proud."

"That's just mean, Smallville."

"But it gives you something to think about while I go get my work clothes."

"All I'm thinking right now is, where do you stash your work clothes when you zip off to save the day? Do you have a little web sack like Spider-Man?" I asked with a playful giggle.

"I throw them into space and get them on my way back."

I stared.

Clark grinned.

I punched his arm.

He kissed my injured hand.

I kissed his lips.

He flew me home.

I wore a Superman shirt to bed.

He wore nothing.