A/N: Firstly, thank you to the wonderful reviewers. You really were my little muses, helping me along throughout the penning of this story

This chapter was the first chapter I wrote to Lois Lane's Rules of Reporting. Literally the story begun from here. But of course I couldn't start with this chapter. ;-) It was my absolute favourite and I just love how the article turned out. I hope you all do too.

Please be wonderful and post your thoughts on the story in a review. I would be eternally grateful.

.::Rule 7: Put all the good stuff at the beginning::.

I SPENT THE NIGHT WITH SUPERMAN
By Lois Lane

They say that when a woman orgasms her brain reacts in much the same way as though she were flying from a cliff. The same rush of endorphins cloud all judgment, literally making one incomprehensible, gasping for air. I imagine it is every man's fantasy to hear that he's orgasmic, that he can successfully push her off the precipice of control causing her to lose all sense of what is rational and safe. It is arguably what nudges the girl next-door toward the mysterious man who lives in the shadows. It's the risk of the unknown; the excitement of flying head first into something unconventional and possibly deadly. Yesterday, I spent the night in the arms of a super man and flew.

For several years the Daily Planet has been reporting on a mysterious blur that'd helped the maligned and the desperate. Criminals quaked in fear of the shadowed figured who'd come to leave only an "S" in his wake. People whispered about his heroism and photographers sought to capture his image. In 2008 a Planet junior photographer, H. James Olsen managed to capture what became known ostensibly as The Blur. While Metropolitans wondered who was behind the red and blue blurred image, he watched us from afar, saving the helpless whenever possible.

We wondered if he was a meteor infected super human. We questioned his motivation and desire for justice. We erroneously challenged Batman to step out of the Gotham City chaos and claim his rightful position in Metropolis. Our government proposed laws to prevent him from clearing our streets of criminals. In all this time we have been fearful of him, proud of him and in awe of him.

It had just been an ordinary night. A moon crescent in the sky; the stars hidden behind a sheen of pollution. I'd forgotten to water my chrysanthemums all week and I'd promised myself that I wouldn't let another potted plant rot away. As I'd walked out on to my terrace I hadn't expected that the chrysanthemums would stay dry for another day.

He came from the sky, resplendent in blue and red highlighted by glimpses of yellow. His red cape flowed around him, the familiar diamond shaped "S" symbol peaking from behind his folded, muscular arms.

"Miss Lane?" He asked; his blue eyes seeming to reflect the lights of the Metropolis skyline. I couldn't muster a reply, my mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish in Crater Lake. He made a half-witted comment about my silence and smiled. Our hero seemed to fancy himself a comedian. Unable (maybe even unwilling?) to glare in response to his comment, I regrettably began with the question I'm sure every woman of Metropolis is feverishly scanning this article to know the answer to:

"Are you… single?"

Upon reflection, it clearly isn't the most journalistically appropriate question to begin with. The Daily Planet has never claimed to be Entertainment Tonight and surely would never stoop to these lows. But there you have it, Metropolis; the first words I uttered to a man who'd saved me countless times. A hero I'd desperately wanted to meet face to face for months, even years.

I can still hear his throaty chuckle like a vibration across my skin. His answer, you see, is kept private and personal to him. If I were to chance a guess I would suspect our blurry demigod's heart is taken. By whom, I suppose, will remain a mystery.

His birth name is Kal-El and he hails from a long forgotten planet named Krypton. Sensing the impending destruction of their planet, his father—against the wishes of the High Council of Krypton- stowed him in to a space craft. Its destination: Earth. Like all parents, Jor-El believed that his son was destined for greatness, hoping the young Kal-El would one day share in the truth of his heritage and fulfill his Kryptonian destiny.

He is not a meteor infected human; by his admission he is in fact an alien from a distant and now destroyed planet. On Krypton the people did not have super powers as their sun inhibited it. It is, Earth that provides our alien friend with his ability to fire heat from his eyes, lift impossibly heavy objects, run faster than a speeding train, leap over the tallest buildings and see through solid objects.

"What colour underwear am I wearing?" I asked, stupidly and unbelieving.

Our hero is a gentleman, having blushed lightly at my question, warning me that he could, in fact, see through my sweatpants and t-shirt. I dared him and he complied.

"Pink," he answered correctly, as my own cheeks coloured to match.

"What else can you do?" I challenged.

"This." He easily pulled me in to his arms, lifting me from my feet. My naked toes met the red leather of his boots as I looked up into his clear blue-green eyes. I clutched his toned arms hidden beneath the blue neoprene, unsure of what he was about to do. "Are you afraid of heights, Miss Lane?"

Just as I was about explain my penchant for finding myself in impossibly colossal situations; my eyes caught the movement of buildings behind my new super friend. You see Metropolis; our blurred crusader also has the ability to fly.

Naturally I clutched on to him, fearful that I'd be dropped, envisioning a certain death by high altitude. You'll recall though, that our super hero is a gentleman.

"Don't be afraid," he chuckled lightly and confidently. "I've got you."

"You've got me?" I questioned, undaunted. "Who's got you?"

"You're nervous," he stated matter-of-factly. When I questioned how he knew, he replied, "For one you're shaking." (It was cold, I contend!) "And secondly, I can hear your heartbeat."

The race of my heart, a vibration he might've been able to feel as we were chest to chest. Yet instead, he heard it.

"Super strength, super flight, super sight and now super hearing?" I said in disbelief. "You really must be some kind of super man."

He laughed, unwilling to comment or too shy to respond. We fell into silence, enjoying the serenity of the Metropolis sky line. Beyond the clouds and high above the buildings a sense of peace overwhelms you. You feel the rush of the wind; hear the ruffle of a super man's cape and you wish to stay forever in that moment, sharing a quickening heartbeat and staring into eyes that seem to look in to your soul.

At some point he must have indicated that the hour was late; I'd vaguely noticed the orange hue of the horizon slowly transforming Metropolis. When my feet finally touched the cold concrete of my terrace I resisted letting go of- what I'd come to learn- his bulletproof shoulders.

He smiled, noticing my reticence. "We should do this again sometime, Miss Lane." My mind raced: was it a question or a statement? Somehow I managed to nod and pulled my hands to my sides.

"Good night," he said softly, as his feet began to lift from the ground.

"Wait!" I called out. "What should I call you?"

"I'm sure you'll find a name." With a smile that sent my heart racing again, he disappeared. Into the clouds and surely beyond the horizon; he promised an expeditious return as truth, justice and the American way depended on it.

A Superman, indeed.

...:::...

"Congratulations, Lois. Quite the article!"

"Nice front page, Lane!"

"I guess Perry can officially let you have a desk up on the 10th floor, huh?"

As Lois and Clark crossed through the lower lobby and in to the basement bullpen, voices called out their compliments. Lois' heels clacked against the cold linoleum floor, her stride confident. Clark followed closely behind, seemingly less confident and looking disheveled in comparison to his girlfriend.

"Lois, are we going to talk about… you know…" he motioned with his hands, head bobbing as Lois beelined for the coffee machine.

She paused, pot in one hand, mug in the other. "Coffee?" She asked, ignoring Clark's question.

"No." He replied, frustrated. "We need to talk about the article." He hurried to keep up with Lois as she moved from one corner of the room to the other, grabbing papers from desks and depositing others.

"We will. Any mail for me, Mary?" She directed her question toward the slight girl sorting mail from behind a stacked cart.

"Tons. Mr. White wanted us to send it upstairs. 10th floor?"

"Do you hear that Clark? 10th floor!" Lois exclaimed, smiling in satisfaction as she called the elevator to the basement. She'd waited for this opportunity and understood exactly what a change in desk placement could mean.

"Lois. We need to talk," Clark repeated, adjusting his glasses, his resolve getting weaker by the second as he clutched the very paper that revealed his alter ego to the world.

"Clark, in all honesty I'm still ticked at you for not telling me sooner." The doors to the elevator chimed open. "I mean, really!" Her voice dropped, "an alien… from Krypton?" She paused as the doors closed, leaving them alone for the first time since Clark had read her article. "Furthermore Chloe and Oliver both knew? Unfair, Smallville. Unfair." She crossed her arms, indomitable. "Did you at least like the article?"

Clark's face softened, he'd been so terror-stricken about Lois' reaction to finding out his secret and the subsequent article that'd resulted, he hadn't even commented on her story. "You said flying with me was orgasmic," he remarked, slyly. The corner of his mouth began to twitch as he attempted to control his reaction.

Lois rolled her eyes. "It's called a hook, Smallville. Haven't you learned anything in those years working beside me?"

Clark chuckled and reached across to press the button for the 10th floor. "Honestly, it is a little embarrassing. And… the name! The name's a little dorky, no?"

"What? Superman? You don't like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it…it just seems a little, I dunno… pretentious."

"Trust me. It's sexy, it's mysterious. It's a helluva lot better than the Red-Blue-Blur," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"One question though: Why didn't you write about kryptonite?" When Lois had agreed to write the first article exposing the truth behind the Blur, he'd figured nothing was off limits save for the disclosure of his identity.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, giving him a small smile. "Why on earth would I tell the world about the one thing that could kill you?" He nodded, understanding. It was one of the many reasons he loved Lois Lane. Despite having permission to expose his weaknesses to the world, she chose to edit out that information. Even knowing he possessed super strength, she still felt a need to protect him.

As the elevator opened to the 10th floor, Lois dropped his hand and took a deep breath stepping out in on to the floor of the City News department.

...:::...

Earlier in the week, each Planet staffer found an urgently flagged message from their editor, Perry White. From the News desk to Features to Obituaries, each had received an email that could effectively change their respective careers.

From: P. White
To: All Staff
Subject: URGENT

Attention Daily Planet Staff:

The Inquisitor has been claiming that they have the first exclusive interview with The Blur. They are supposed to go to print on Friday. Any journalist that has a remote connection to the Blur is hereby asked to submit an article to the City News desk with the possibility of a front page exclusive.

Any submissions are due Wednesday before the print deadline.

Perry White
Editor-in-Chief
Daily Planet Press Corp.

Clark had seen the email request before Lois. In typical fashion she had had a phone pressed to one ear, a chewed up pen in her mouth and was shuffling through the mess of papers on her desk. She would not be happy to know that the Inquisitor had scooped her over a Blur story.

The truth, which Clark knew, was that they hadn't. He'd never spoken to anyone aside from Lois over the phone and even those conversations had stopped over the course of the past few months.

"What the hell?" Lois' declaration startled him. She slammed her phone back in to its cradle and glared at her computer screen. "The freaking Inquisitor has an interview with the Blur? How is this even possible?"

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but his attempt was thwarted as she continued, "you'd think that if a super hero trusted you enough to call you that that would mean something. What the hell did I do wrong?" Her words came out in a constant stream; her anger quickly escalating into self-deprecation. "Oh my god, he must not have liked the articles that I wrote about his saves over at the Kaw. Or maybe it was the ones about LexCorp's research into weather manipulation. Do you think he's in the pocket of Luthor Corp? That would explain how the Inquisitor managed to get the interview first."

"Lois, your articles are fine! I'm sure—"

"`Fine' won't get me to the 10th floor, Clark. And it sure as hell lost me an interview with the Blur."

Clark sighed; frustrated for the hundred-thousandth time that he hadn't yet told her the truth. Little did she realize, the Blur loved every single article that she'd written. Every time Clark snuck out of bed in the middle of the night for a save, he secretly wondered what she would write about him. Would she challenge his decision to choose the erupting volcano in Italy over the bank robbery in Topeka? Or commend his rescuing of the convent of nuns from the fire off of Robertson Boulevard?

"I've gotta go," Lois announced, gathering her notepad and cell phone and tossing them into her purse. "I need to track down the Blur and get that damn interview."

"But Lois-"

"I'll talk to you later, Clark. I'll call if I need anything." With a swing of her ponytail she was up the stairs and out the door to the lobby.

Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing his unnecessary black rimmed frames up his nose. He reached for his cell phone and hit the second number on his speed dial.

"Hi Mom. Do you mind if I swing by and pick up that little project we've been talking about?"

...:::...

The day had been miserable for Lois. She'd been unable to locate the Blur, had broken her heel in Suicide Slum and was out $20 worth of Pepsi products and donuts in a failed attempt to secure information from Eddie. The last thing she wanted to do was water her plants, but they'd looked a little brown around the edges.

What Lois hadn't revealed to the reading audience of the Daily Planet was that while she had attempted to water her dying flowers, the shock of seeing a caped crusader leap on to her terrace actually sent the watering can flying from her hands, landing in what became a spectacular puddle at her feet.

At first she hadn't recognized Clark standing before her in his suit of blue and red. She'd gotten so used to his glasses that she'd initially been unable to make the connection between the alien visitor who'd leapt on to her 13th floor terrace and her boyfriend of two years. Furthermore, Clark was always so clumsy and unconfident; the man before her stood regal and self-assured.

"Miss Lane?" On later reflection Lois came to realize that Clark had been teasing her. Attempting to use formalities and a deeper voice in an effort to demonstrate the drastic transformation that he'd made. Her heart had leapt in to her throat at the sound of her name; she knew instinctively that it was the Blur. Her eyes traced the contours of his face and she noticed the dark curl of hair that hung across his forehead. If he'd said anything to her, she didn't register the comment; her thoughts had become a swirling mess of nerves and excitement.

"So…Are you single?" The words had spilled out like a giddy teenager meeting her crush for the first time.

"Lois!"

It was then that she realized who stood before her. She'd recognize that familiar admonishment anywhere.

"Clark?" He shrugged, giving her a trepidatious smile and turned the voice modifier off. Lois stared back in shock. "What the f—…"

Before the expletive could even cross her lips, Clark interrupted: "I'm sorry?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but it had.

"You're sorry?" She parroted. He couldn't read her reaction. Was she furious? Surprised? Excited? Confused? Her words came across as a mixed declaration.

While Lois had created a romanticized version of the first meeting between the Daily Planet reporter and the Metropolitan hero for the paper; the reality had been very different.

"Is this a joke?" She asked, doubting what she'd just seen. Clark had, after all, just leapt on to her terrace… hadn't he?

He shook his head. "Not a joke." The words came out slowly, methodically, as though he was afraid that each word would create an independent reaction from Lois.

"You're… the Blur?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

She paused unsure of how to proceed. Part of her wanted to scream at him, chastise him for stringing her along for more than three years. Another part felt relieved. There had been many nights where she'd woken up alone in her bed and wondered where Clark had gone. She'd always have to force herself to believe half-baked excuses about farm emergencies or meetings with sources whose leads never panned out.

"Who are you?" She whispered, scared of the possible answers she might receive. To her, the Blur had been someone unattainable who lived in the shadows, enjoying a life of solitude. Clark was the opposite. He was loving, kind, selfless, generous; he was the type of man that every girl wished she could bring home to their mother. She'd always believed that she could read him like an open book. It scared her to think that the Clark she'd fallen in love with had a hidden, potentially darker side.

"I'm Clark," he said, definitively. "It's who I am. Kal-El is who I was. The Blur is who I became."

"Kal-what?" Lois pressed her hand to her temple, her confusion causing a headache to begin. She reached for her nearby patio chair and took a seat. She had a feeling that she'd need to be off her feet for whatever Clark was about to reveal.

Over the next few minutes Lois listened, silently processing the story of Clark's alien origins. The cloud of confusion began to clear as he explained his many saves and the Blur's accomplishments. He explained to her his powers, the various accidents that had taken place because of them and how his earthly parents had helped and encouraged him to gain control over them.

"Well…?" He asked once he finished. Her silence throughout had been unexpected. Clark had bargained for a barrage of questions, and instead she'd remained quiet. "Did you… did you have any questions?"

"You can see through solid objects?" She asked, almost dazed.

"Yeah. Unless it's lead. I can't see through lead."

"What colour underwear am I wearing?" Her voice curious, yet cautious.

"What?"

"You heard me. What colour underwear am I wearing?"

"Lois, this is ridiculous." She raised her eyebrows expectantly, challenging him to prove his story. "Pink," he said finally, shaking his head.

Her face blushed in embarrassment. It wasn't as though Clark hadn't seen her underwear before- in fact, he'd seen her in much less—it was the confirmation that he could see her underwear whenever he wanted. Even on the days where she'd worn her ugly-and-feeling-fat ones.

"Shit!" She exclaimed.

"What?"

"Nothing." Lois shook her head. "What else you got?" She rose to her feet, the confident Daily Planet reporter slowly returning.

"This." Clark grabbed her hand, pulling her near. He lifted her slightly and pulled her close against him. Her feet landed on his new boots, her arms automatically slinked around his shoulders to his neck. "Hold on," he whispered.

Lois could feel a shift in the air; the skyline around her altered. "What the-?"

"Don't be afraid. I've got you," he assured her.

"You've got me? Who's got you?"

Clark chuckled and pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. "You're nervous. I can feel you shaking."

"It's cold," she said defensively as she watched the buildings beneath her getting smaller. "I thought you were afraid of heights?"

"Your heart's racing."

Lois swallowed a heavy lump that had formed in her throat. "How'd you know?" She croaked.

Clark gave her a small smile. "I can hear your heartbeat."

"You mean you can feel it?" She corrected.

"No, I can hear it."

Lois looked up at him amazed and curious at the same time. Clark took a deep breath and continued, "There were times when I would sneak out in the middle of the night for a save. Hearing your heartbeat…Listening to it… it reminded me of home. It gave me strength."

"Oh Clark…"

Still holding tight to Clark, she began to let her eyes wonder over the skyline of Metropolis. The people below looked like ants, scrambling to get home in the nighttime rush. The golden globe of the Daily Planet shone over the city, turning on its axis.

"Why did you let the Inquisitor interview you?"

"There never was an interview, Lois," he insisted. "I've always wanted you to write my story. There's no better reporter to tell it."

"Clark…"

"It's true, Lois. It's always been you." Lois smiled, recognizing the truth in his voice.

As Clark took her on a tour of Metropolis, he revealed everything to her. He told her of his weaknesses, of his strengths and of his fears for the future… for their future. Lois listened and recognized the difficulty he'd had in maintaining so many secrets and forming so many lies.

"Lois, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just… I don't know. When I would think it was the right time, it never was. And then days became weeks and weeks became months… then years…"

Lois nodded slowly. "I think understand. I don't like it, but I get it."

Eventually the darkness over Metropolis began to fade; the soft light of the morning peeking out from the horizon. When her feet touched the concrete of her terrace, Lois didn't want to let go. Clark had laid himself bare to her that night, it had been the most honest that she'd seen him.

"I should go," Clark said softly with some hesitancy. "You have an article to write if you want to make Perry's print deadline."

Lois smiled. "I know." She let one hand venture toward Clark's face, caressing his cheek. She smiled tenderly. "Thank you, Clark."

He pressed his lips softly against hers. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered as they parted.

She nodded. "I like the costume, by the way. The "S" is a nice touch." She fingered the embroidery.

Clark smiled and looked down at his red and yellow Krytonian symbol. "Thanks. My mom made it for me," he said as he pulled away and began to levitate in mid-air.

Lois chuckled in reply. Of course Mrs. Kent was responsible for such a heroic ensemble.

"I guess I should stop callin' you Smallville, huh?" She called out.

"We should do this again sometime." He smiled and gave her a wink. "Good night, Lois."

"Wait!" He froze in midair at Lois' exclamation. "If I'm writing this article, what should I call you?"

"I'm sure you'll find a name."

...:::...

"Superman! It's genius! I love it," exclaimed Perry White, slapping Lois on the back. "Kiddo, you're a real treasure ya know that?"

"Should you be smoking that in here…?" Clark questioned, pointing at the cigar balanced between Perry's fingers. Lois dug her elbow in to Clark's side.

"Who's this kid?" Perry asked, pointing his cigar at the startled reporter giving Clark a quick and knowing wink.

"Clark Kent, sir," said a young red headed boy who'd raced to keep up with Perry's pace throughout the newsroom, handing him papers to sign. "Works in the basement. Does Feature pieces."

"Oh right, the farm boy from Smallville."

Lois chuckled at Perry's description and attempt at masking his connection to Clark. He was certainly staying true to his promise of avoiding the appearance of favouritism. They continued to follow Perry throughout the City News department which was bustling with excitement.

"Listen Lane, that interview was gold. Who knew?" Perry propped his cigar into the corner of his mouth and raised his hands, motioning the words to an invisible headline. "The Red-and-Blue-Blur an alien from outer space! I'm surprised we don't have NASA crawling all over our asses looking for him."

"Thank you?" Lois said, unsure as to how to respond.

"No, it's I that should be thanking you, Lane." He paused over an empty cubicle. "The advertising department has practically built a shrine to you down on the 7th floor. And the accounting department? Those number crunchers have called the Vatican looking to get ya sainted. You're a hero 'round here Lane!"

"I… I don't know what to say…" Lois stuttered, looking to Clark for help. He shrugged, awkwardly positioned between the very boisterous Perry and Lois.

"How 'bout Monday morning you move your stuff up here," he patted the ledge of the empty cubicle's wall. "We need some fire on this floor, and I think you're the one to bring it."

"Perry!" Lois exclaimed, her excitement evident. "er… I mean, Mr. White." She smiled looking around her. "I don't know what to say…!"

"First of all, don't call me Mr. White, my father was Mr. White. Only that little red-haired kid what's-his-face calls me that." He stuck out his hand. "Welcome to the team!"

Lois smiled and took his hand, returning his firm shake. "Thank you. You won't be sorry," she promised.

"I hope not." As Perry was about to walk away, he caught Clark's eye. "You guys are kind of a team, aren't you?"

Confused, Clark looked to Lois for support.

"Clark and I are sort of…" Lois struggled for words. They'd never officially declared their work relationship, despite having collaborated together on several articles. "We're kinda… I guess, sort of…"

"He's your partner downstairs?" Perry asked, impatient. Lois nodded. "I like it! Lombard!" A head poked up from a nearby cubicle.

"Sir?"

"Monday, you're back on the 8th floor." Perry motioned toward Clark. "Kent needs your desk." Lombard glared at Clark who nervously pushed at the bridge of his glasses, avoiding eye contact.

"Monday, then?" He looked from Clark to Lois.

"Monday," Lois repeated with certainty; Clark nodded in agreement.

Perry puffed on his cigar and turned to march toward his corner office. "Superman?" He muttered to himself, his excitement still palatable. "It's genius!"

...:: FIN ::...