A/N: Disclaimer - I do NOT own any rights or credits to Superman or any of its characters, places, etc. Based off of the scene in Superman II where Lois finds out about Clark. Please note that none of the actual dialogue between them is mine – just the description of their actions and emotions. This is for all those hopeless romantics out there that just wanna see Superman get the girl for once!!


A Secret Revealed

Summary: A small piece taken from the scene in Superman II when Lois finds out Clark is Superman.


"Boy I sure must have looked like an idiot," Lois complained, "Jumping into the river waiting for Mr. Wonderful. Who obviously had better things to do."

Pacing the room, Clark uncomfortably pushed his glasses up with his index finger and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Oh, well, I'm sure it must have been something…um…very important, Lois," he stammered, trying his best to make her feel better.

It didn't work. In fact, she continued as if she hadn't even heard him. "And thinking that you were…Ugh! If Perry White could see me now! Where's my comb?" she grumped, in a tone that said things-can't-get-any-worse-than-this. She began lifting objects, looking under her robe, but found nothing. "God, not only have I lost my mind, I've lost my comb."

Clark hid the smile that played on his lips by turning his back. She was so adorable when she was frustrated. It had been a close call, closer than he really wanted to admit, when Lois had declared she knew his true identity and jumped into the Niagara Falls River to try and prove it. But he had played it off well and now Lois was grumbling about how frustrated and embarrassed she was.

Lois continued looking about the fireplace for her comb. When she couldn't find it, she craned her neck to see what was on the vanity across the room. "Clark," she said, pointing to the ugly pink and white piece of furniture. "Can you pass me that brush over there, please?"

"Oh sure," he stammered, pushing his glasses up with his index finger again. He retrieved the brush and crossed the distance between them.

As Clark, he was used to dragging his feet, so when his right foot caught the mouth of the bearskin rug, he followed through with the fall. Better to let Lois see him as a klutz, especially now. Only, he underestimated the distance and the direction of his fall.

It was a careless mistake.

Unable to stop himself, Clark fell forward, dropping not only Lois's brush, but also his glasses as inevitably, his left hand plunged deep into the flame, knocking blazing timbers aside and sending a puff of ash into the air.

Lois jumped to her feet to catch him but it was too late. He groped blindly in the flame for his glasses, hoping desperately that she hadn't seen him drop them and tried to turn so that she couldn't see his face.

Stupid! he thought, angrily. Clumsy!

Before she could react, he jerked his hand out of the fire, fumbling to get his glasses back on before she had the chance to see his face and shoving his hand into his jacket.

"Clark, let me see it!" she cried, dropping to her knees next to him, frightened that this time he may have done some very real damage to his hand. Clark was always clumsy, but he usually never hurt anyone, or himself.

"No, no!" he insisted, frantically trying to hide his hand. If she sees my hand there'll be no turning back. If he could just get out of the room and find something to wrap it with…

"Clark, let me see your hand!" Lois cried, adamant in her concern for him. She tugged at the hand in his jacket. No turning back…

"It's-it's okay," he cried desperately.

Lois wouldn't take no for an answer. "Let me look at it!" she persisted.

No turning back

…Another tug…

…and finally Clark released his hand to her.

She froze. Her breath left her.

His hand was unscathed, not a single mark brandishing his perfect skin. She touched his palm. Flipping his hand over, she ran her fingers across his knuckles.


But he fell…into the fire…

…She saw his hand in the fire…

She looked up and saw Clark gazing down at her, holding his breath, an expression on his face like that of a child caught in the act of wrongdoing.

And then it was clear. Clear as her love for him.

"You are Superman," she breathed.

Clark winced as if waking from a dream and stammered, "Oh Lois, come on. Don't be silly…"

But he never finished.

Their eyes met.

She knew.

He couldn't hide it any more. And he couldn't lie to her.

Forcing his eyes away from hers, he struck the stair with the bottom of his fist in a frustrated gesture and pushed himself to his feet. Had he wanted to, he could have broken the stair. At the moment, he wondered why he hadn't. He was angry at himself; angry at his carelessness.

He moved away from her, needing to put some distance between them.

Her eyes bored into him; even with his back turned he could feel them. Those eyes wanted answers. Needed them.

Deserved them.

Was he prepared to give them?

He kept his back to her and didn't turn around for a long time.

For once in her life, Lois Lane was speechless. It was him. It was really him. She wasn't dreaming. This was real and he was standing before her, in the very same room.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he turned to face her.

The man that stood before her wasn't Clark…couldn't have been Clark. But yet, it was. She saw it very clearly now. His build, his height, it was all so familiar.

As Clark, slouching had somewhat hidden his real height, shortening him by several inches. He had drawn himself to his full height and now stood before her with a confidence in his stance that she had never seen before…

…in Clark, at least.

His broad shoulders suddenly look so confined as he squared them beneath his cashmere sweater. She had often wondered what Superman looked like in regular clothes.

Reluctantly, he removed his glasses.

Lois forgot to breath.

Piercing blue eyes stared back at her, their brilliance no longer dulled by the thickness of the spectacles.

It was such a bizarre sight for her. Here was Superman's head atop Clark Kent's body, and the two could not possibly go together. And yet…

…and yet…

Clark and Superman were the same person. The bumbling, the stuttering, the klutziness – it had all been a façade, a mask to hide his true identity from the world. And nobody had recognized it.

But Lois had.

Folding his glasses, Clark drew in a heavy breath.

If he had looked as if he'd literally been carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders earlier, trying to conceal his identity from her, he looked even more so now. She hadn't hurt him, had she? She'd never forgive herself if she'd hurt him. Better for her to die now and take his secret with her to the grave than to live with the knowledge of knowing she'd hurt him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she meant it.

Clark…Superman…grimaced. "No, you don't have anything to be sorry about," he said, using his real voice. He had long since learned to raise the timbre of his voice so that Clark spoke at least an octave higher than his alter ego, but there was no use trying to disguise it from her now. "I don't know why I did that."

He looked down at the glasses in his hands. Clark's glasses. And something passed over his eyes. In those enigmatic blue orbs she thought she had glimpsed years of loneliness, longing.

"Maybe you wanted to," she replied, perhaps a bit more hopeful than she intended.

"I don't think I did," he responded, not completely understanding her reason.

"Well," she continued, locking eyes with him, "maybe you didn't want to with your mind…but…maybe you wanted to…with your heart."

It seemed to Lois as if he wanted to look away. But he didn't. Instead, he studied her eyes as she studied his.

"We'd better talk," he said, heavily.

"I'm in love with you," she suddenly said, the words spilling out before she was even aware of it.

Clark gave a start. He hadn't expected her to say that. Yes, he'd always known that Lois was smitten with Superman, but she'd never given Clark the time of day. Now she knew, who he truly was, and she still loved him. He was honored by the thought, and touched. And afraid.

And yet, it was almost a relief, to now know that she loved him as much as he had always loved her. He smiled, overwhelmed, and said, "Then we really better talk."

His smile was real and genuine and warm. She felt the tension in the room lighten and found herself pushing forward. "I'm listening."

Clark turned, pacing across the floor. It felt strange for Lois to be speaking to him like this, and he to her, of such a deeply guarded matter. But he couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk with her more; he wanted to tell her everything. It felt oddly right somehow, although he couldn't have begun to understand why.

His mind whirled and he almost forgot to finish his sentence. "Perry's going to be calling about six to see what's happening."

"What's happening? That's the understatement of the year," Lois remarked, dryly. Clark stifled a laugh. "So…where do you want to…talk?"

The smile on Clark's face broadened. "Lois," he said, "Now that you know, I think you should know it all."

Am I really hearing this?? Does this mean he loves me too? Say something, Lois, you're staring!

"I want to," was all she could think of, her mind whirling as she tried to sort out Clark's thoughts, and his motivations. He had surprised her with every word, considering that he was Superman; and yet, given the fire that she clearly saw burning behind those blue eyes, he had not surprised her. Something was brewing there, behind those simmering eyes, and she couldn't wait to find out what.

"Let's go to my place," he said.

Lois looked down, suddenly aware that she was clad in little more than a bathrobe, barely concealing the sumptuous line of her cleavage. She chided herself, knowing it had been wicked of her to prance around their shared hotel room in front of "Clark" in naught but a bathrobe. But she couldn't help but be pleased though, that it hadn't been just "Clark" to see her that way. "Maybe I should change first."

He nodded and strode forward, extending a hand to help her to her feet. She took it without hesitation, surprised at the strength in his grasp.

"Maybe you should, too," she said, a mischievous grin sliding across her face as she looked down at his sweater and slacks.

Clark, not understanding at first, looked down as well before realizing what she had meant, and couldn't help but return her smile.

This was Lois Lane, the woman he had loved since the first day he set eyes on her at the Daily Planet. And now he knew she loved him in return.