Chapter Text
The cavernous hall of the old shopping arcade echoed with a crunch of broken glass beneath Lois’s Doc Martens. Beside her, Jimmy Olsen adjusted the lens of his camera as he took photos of the rusted, skeletal remains of the once bustling aisles for their feature on Old Metropolis.
"Get a shot of the collapsed skylight, Jimmy. That stained glass window is beautiful," Lois pointed up before running her pen across her notepad. "The structural problems here are exactly what we want to feature. The mayor has been trying to-"
A deep groan cut her off. It didn't come from the floor; it was coming from above. Lois looked up just as a massive steel girder supporting the ceiling snapped like a dry twig and began to fall. A terrifying shadow fell over the two Daily Planet colleagues as a slab of concrete plummeted towards them.
"Lois!" Jimmy screamed, but Lois froze, the realisation hitting her that there was no time to run.
Suddenly, there came a sonic boom that pierced through the air and blew the surrounding dust into a thick cloud. Superman appeared above them, his shoulders squared and arms raised to catch the slab of concrete out of midair, inches above Lois's head. With a heavy grunt of effort, he launched the slab of concrete aside, sending it crashing through the window of an empty storefront. Silence rang through the halls, broken only by Jimmy’s panicked breathing and Superman landed softly in front of Lois. His usually perfect coiffed hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were wide with unmasked alarm. Lois exhaled shakily, stepping forward to touch his chest, a gesture she’d done a hundred times before with him.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "We're both okay. You got here just in ti—" she didn't get to finish.
Forgetting the symbol on his chest, Jimmy standing nearby and entirely forgetting the golden rule of their public boundaries, Superman stepped forward and pulled her against him. Not the one-armed embrace he gave to strangers, but a deep embrace with both of his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and burying his face into the crook of her neck, letting out a sigh of relief. Lois gasped, initially stiffening before her hands instinctively moved around his back and returned the hug. They stood happily pressed together until they heard the worst sound that they could imagine. The clicks of cameras. A camera flash lit up the gloom, and Jimmy jumped as Lois glared back at him, and he held up his hands innocently; it hadn't been him who raised his camera. He looked around and spotted a pack of freelance paparazzi and rival reporters from the Metropolis Independent. They were gathered by the old escalators, their lenses capturing every angle of the seemingly innocent hug. Superman froze. The reality of what he was doing blew up in his face. He pulled out of the hug swiftly, his face turning a little pink beneath the dust and shot Lois a panicked look, before shooting up through the shattered ceiling.
The next morning, the newsstands in Metropolis were full of copies of the celebrity sighting, and they were selling fast. The Daily Planet took the high road with the story being about a rescue of one of their own, but they were the only ones. Every other major publication in the city was running the same photograph on the cover. A blown-up image of the embrace between Lois and the man in blue. Superman wasn't looking at the camera in the shot; his eyes were closed, and his face was buried in Lois’s hair while his hands clutched the back of her coat with a possessiveness that seemed too friendly.
The headline on the Independent blared in massive black ink: THE MAN OF STEEL, IN LOVE?
Morning talk shows had abandoned their scheduled programming and were gossiping about the possible couple, and online socials were ablaze with speculation; hashtags analysing every pixel of the hug, ranging from cute comments to even jealousy. The public didn't care about the collapse; they just wanted to know the secret behind the hug. The invincible Kryptonian had shown that he had a very vulnerable human heart that possibly belonged to one Lois Lane.
The newsroom of the Planet was a din of phones and chatter, but to Lois and Clark, the noise felt miles away. They were trapped in a suffocating bubble of gossip. At her desk, Lois stared at her computer screen and at the front page of the Metropolis Independent glaring back at her, showing the image of her and Clark’s embrace filling the screen. She tapped her pen against the edge of her desk in irritation, and across the aisle from her, Clark was faring no better. He was hunched over his keyboard, typing up a piece on a robbery he had stopped before saving Lois, but had pressed the delete key more times than the spacebar. Underneath his desk, his heel bounced nervously and Lois dropped her pen with a sigh hearing the faint thud behind her. She pushed off the edge of her desk, rolling her chair smoothly across the space that separated their desks, and without a word, she reached down and firmly placed her hand over his knee, stopping the jiggling. Clark exhaled and turned his head, readjusting his glasses and his blue eyes met hers with a mixture of immense guilt and building emotion.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice so low it was practically a frequency only the two of them could hear over the newsroom. "Lois, I am so sorry. I completely lost where I was."
"I know," Lois murmured, leaving her hand on his knee to rub the fabric of his slacks and leaning in closer. “Don’t apologise. A roof literally fell on me, Clark."
Clark sighed softly, his brow furrowing as he risked a glance at the surrounding desks. Everyone seemed absorbed in their own deadlines, and he looked back at Lois. “Did you see the Independent, and Cat’s column for that matter? She’s usually on our side. That hug and how I was holding you puts a target on your back. If someone connects the dots... or Lex."
"Let them try," Lois interrupted him, her tone sharp but reassuring, and she gave his knee another gentle squeeze. "I'm Lois Lane. I've had a target on my back since my very first story. We knew the risks of this double life when we started dating.”
"I know, but..." Clark swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair and messing up the carefully arranged curls that separated the reporter from his alter ego. "I broke the rules. I jeopardised your safety because I couldn't bear the thought of arriving a second too late."
Lois’s expression softened, and she looked up at her boyfriend, seeing past the glasses and trim suit to the terrified hero underneath. "Clark, look at me," she whispered. “You saved my life yesterday and Jimmy's. The papers can spin whatever fairytale they want about Superman today. Tomorrow, a politician will get caught in a scandal, and the media circus will move on. But right now, you need to stop rattling your desk apart.”
Clark casually shifted his position, letting his hand briefly cover hers on his knee, his thumb lightly brushing across her knuckles before he reluctantly let go. “Okay," he breathed, sitting up a little straighter. “You're right. So, how do we handle this?”
"We tell the truth. Mostly," Lois said. “Superman was saving a grateful citizen. It was an adrenaline-fueled moment of relief. Nothing more.” She pulled her hand back and wheeled her chair back towards her own desk with a practised spin. “The gossip stops today. So get cracking, Kent," she smirked, and he smiled back at her.
Noon came, and Lois and Clark were halfway across the main square heading towards their favourite lunch spot when a camera clicked again.
"Lois! Lois Lane!" A man in a leather jacket practically lunged out from behind a hot dog stand, a massive camera now swinging from his neck. "Is it true? Are you and Superman an item? How long has it been going on?"
Clark immediately frowned, his hand hovering at Lois’s elbow as his protective instincts took over. The reporter in him hated being cornered at the best of times, but right now the Kryptonian in him hated the invasion of Lois's personal space more. He took a small step forward to intervene when Lois held a hand out, stopping him. She squared her shoulders and raised an eyebrow.
"Are you serious right now?" Lois asked, her voice cutting through the anger inside.
"I... uh, the public has a right to know," the man stammered.
"Know what? The public has a right to know about political changes or estate developments in the city, not gossip,” Lois shot back, stepping towards the man, just enough to make him lean back. "I could, however, let the public know about desperate photographers hiding behind hot dog carts and harassing a woman who hugged her saviour. Listen, I am an investigative journalist for the Daily Planet. I report the news; I am not the news. Superman saved my life, just as he has saved thousands of others. End of story."
The paparazzi blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "But... the hug..."
"Was the reaction of reaching two people who almost died in a pile of rubble," Lois finished sharply. "Now, if you want to take my picture, I’ll happily pose. Otherwise, have a nice afternoon." She then turned on her heel with absolute poise. "Come on, Clark. I'm starving."
Clark was staring at her, his mouth slightly open in genuine awe. He fell into step beside her as they continued down the street, leaving the stunned photographer watching on.
"That," Clark said, shaking his head, a proud smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "That was amazing."
Lois smirked, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Please. I've dealt with worse than that, and Guy, for that matter. You think a guy with a camera is going to ruin my lunch?"
Clark chuckled, sounding slightly more relaxed. "I should have known you didn't need rescuing. From that, anyway.”
"Nope. But from a building, don’t hesitate.”
"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.
"See that you do.”