Man of Steel

@kryptonsxlastxson​

CLOSED

“I know I sound like a broken record, but I think we should go over everything one more time” 

Lois Lane made sure to sweeten her suggestion with a broad dimpled grin and contrite eyes. It wasn’t breaking news that Lois was a hard worker. When she struck her stride for an article, she saw it through, even if it meant foregoing a few nights’ sleep and spending evenings on her ergonomic computer chair, which had very little recline. But she usually was perfectly content powering full steam ahead all by her lonesome; tenacity and willpower got you very far in her line of work, and there was a reason she was the Planet’s top reporter. But she wasn’t on her own anymore. It’d been a few weeks since the new addition to the team and without much consciously acknowledgement on Lois part, Clark Kent had become her favorite person in the office. If she were being honest, she hadn’t expected him to last very long. Not because she didn’t note his dedication and eagerness, but because she was concerned that certain grueling parts of the work might be too much for him. 

When it came to working on a project, she had a tendency to perceive things from her own perspective, which meant obtaining the facts by whatever means necessary. But with time, Lois had come to appreciate the idealism Clark brought to the team. A beacon of morality and a willingness to see things through. What began as light amusement at his tendency to stammer throughout their encounters quickly developed to fondness. What began as a prayer that Clark would not obstruct her while they were partnered together during field work evolved into a reliance on him for backup and support. What used to be solitary early morning coffee on her way to work became daily pre-work rendezvous at the coffee shop around the street. Clark Kent had integrated himself into Lois’s life. They were a strangely effective pair, she and he. A great compliment towards one another…professionally. And that was it. At least, that was definitely the only thing Lois was willing to acknowledge.

“Don’t you agree this all seems a little too systematic to be random?” Lois twisted her wooden chopsticks between her fingers, her takeaway barely touched and growing colder by the minute. She was far too preoccupied with the files between her and Clark. “I mean we’re talking about multiple arson reports. All in lower Metropolis and all against minority-owned businesses” While Jimmy and the rest of the office were to busy trying to catch a photo op and quite with Metropolis’s new mystery hero, Lois was adamant about remaining focused on Metropolises true issues. Boys and their heroes. Thankfully Clark didn’t seem too dazzled by covering rescue operations. 

“There’s not such thing as coincidences, Smallville. Remember that” she muttered, reaching across the desk for the duck sauce. Their fingers briefly touched, and Lois raised her head to meet his gaze for a few seconds. “Hm. Pass the spring rolls.”

“Lois, we’ve ran through this at least five times,” Clark sighed with a smile, knowing he’d willingly repeat himself dozens of times if it meant prolonging his time spent with the illustrious Lois Lane. She was the constant that pulled him through each exhausting workday. He was lucky if he got a chance to cover something more than just a Friday night football game at Metropolis High or a fluff piece boosting up some politician, so when a stack of arson reports greeted him at his desk one morning, Clark was elated. When he went to find Lois and tell her the great news of an actual story to investigate, she was looking through an identical file. Over many late nights, the pair poured themselves into the case, much to the chief’s dismay.

“Systematic? Hmm,” Clark hummed, his chopsticks held between his teeth as he pulled out a map, taking a red pen and circling each business that tragedy had struck. When he’d first started writing his story, he chalked it all up to coincidence. That is, until Lois had subtly mentioned the possibility of an overall connection. “All of the reports are within walking distance, and along a main road.” He pointed with the top of his chopsticks as he spoke, imaginary lines connecting them. “I read somewhere that arsonists will sometimes linger within a crowd to watch things unfold.” He’d put out countless blazing infernos while donning the cape, but never really stuck around for the investigation from the fire department.

Helena waltzed through her old family home. It was like everything had frozen in time. The golden embossed trimming, the ever-so gaudy furniture. It was like time had stopped in this house. Hell, she was sure no time had passed. As she entered the main room, her heart stopped for a brief moment. Eyes grazing over the room. The flashes of her family sprawled throughout, plaguing her mind. This wasn’t how she thought she’d be acting when walking through. Time had frozen here, but it never froze for her outside of this spacious mansion.

As her bodyguards kept a look out for anyone trying to make their way in for the ever so, money worthy shot, she tried to regain some composure. “It’s like no time has passed.” She threw out as if it were last night’s dinner. The guards just watched her as she ran her hand over the marble fireplace top. This place was exactly how she remembered it from all those years ago. This house was exactly how a mob boss and family would live. Gaudy, extra. Everything was just so…familiar, and yet, it was all new again.

Moving towards the next room, she heard someone speaking to the guard out-front. She put on a brave face as she heard the guard express her wishes as she crossed the foyer. That was when she heard the bumbling reporter call her name. Turning quick on her heels, she smiled half-heartedly and moved towards the guard. “Thank you, I’m sure I can handle, Kent was it?” With a small nod, she relieved him of his post. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone came sniffing me out for a story. You’d think people would have more interest in something other than the return of Crime Boss Franco Bertinelli’s daughter.”  Her dark colored lips curled a bit. “So, what do you want to know?”

Clark nodded politely, his lips pressing together in a tight smile. “Correct. Though, you’re welcome to call me Clark, if you prefer.” His stomach churned as he remembered the questions that were practically burning a hole in his notebook, the same questions he stayed up far too late concocting the night before. 'Be direct, Smallville.’ Lois’ voice echoed in his mind as his thoughts moved, trying to formulate a proper question before he opened his mouth again.

“Let me assure you, Miss Bertinelli. This piece is not meant to slander, but rather to uplift. I mean, just from the minute or so we’ve been standing here, it’s already clear to me that you’re much kinder than others in your family. Though, if i may ask, why come back to Gotham after all this time? Was it to claim the fortune your father had amassed, or something else entirely?” Clark’s teeth caught the inside of his cheek, biting lightly to stop himself from rambling on, his pen to paper, ready to take notes.

“And this, boys? One of most incredible natural occurrences Earth’s yellow sun has to offer after a rain shower.” Clark cradled the twins close to his chest as he flew high above the city, the two boys just barely waking up from their mid-day nap. The Man of Steel beamed as he watched them become more alert, wide eyes blinking up at him. He easily turned them in his arms, giving them ample view of the array of colors. Holding firmly to their squirming figures, his heart soared as Jon and Jordan gurgled and cooed, as if having a conversation with one another. “Let’s not tell Mommy about this little adventure of ours though, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.”

     Jon was so high above the city that is stretched out like a sea of twinkling lights before him. Thanks to his super hearing he could make out the sound of the bustling traffic beneath him. It was a peaceful night and Jon was appreciative of that. His father would have told him that nights like these were few and far between and should be savored. Jon frowned. If only his dad had actually been there in the flesh to remind him of that. He was all alone on an unfamiliar planet that had a Superman of its own. Clark would then remind the boy that his time was better spent and that pouting would do him no good. He was Superboy and he had no time to mope.       He perked up at the sound of trouble. Somewhere in the city, a mugging was taking place. Diving off of the building Jon descended into the night. He appeared before an old lady and her would-be attacker in a red and blue blur. Upon spotting the insignia on his chest the mugger ran, abandoning the purse which Jon politely returned. She was so grateful that she had even given him five dollars for his kind deed. Deciding to put that money to good use he stopped by a hot dog cart and ordered a quick bite to eat. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his costume but Jon had learned to embrace the stares. When people looked at him they saw the personification of hope. “You come for a hot dog, too?” He asked, smiling brightly at a stranger that had joined him at the stand. 

Fumbling with his keys, Clark leaned his back lightly against the door to his building as he walked backward onto the sidewalk. After a long day’s work, the Man of Steel was more than ready to head home to his loving wife and babbling, bouncing boys. Light murmurs of a new Superman from passing citizens piqued his interest, his gaze moving from his mess of keys to the figure standing at the corner food cart.

Brows furrowed as his head cocked to the side, trying to piece together what he was seeing. Was this actually happening, or was his unusually extended lack of sleep finally catching up to him? Someone else was wearing his family crest, someone he didn’t recognize, someone who didn’t deserve to wear the symbol of hope. Who was this guy?

Clark closed the distance between himself and the supposed Super, pulling a few bills out to purchase a bottle of water. “Nah, not tonight. I’m sure my wife has dinner waiting.” Maybe, or it’s bubbling into a burnt crisp. “Are you new around here? Can’t say I’ve seen you in these parts, surely I’ve would have interviewed you for an article or two at this point.” Twisting the top off, he took a gulp of water before pointing down at the insignia on the other man’s chest. “That S...Any relation to Supergirl or Superman? Is it like, a superhero club or something?”

Clark’s stomach twisted as he approached the lofty manor, his thoughts jumbled as he attempted to get his questions in line. He hated that Perry was so adamant about the up-and-coming reporter pushing a more controversial story, but couldn’t find it in him to say no. It was experience, after all. Though, this was the opposite type of reporting that he wanted to do. Sure, he could chase a story through every avenue, but something that sat so high in terms of potential controversy? No thanks. He wasn’t even sure Miss. Bertinelli would see him. Did he need an appointment? Should he have called ahead? God, what would Lois do?

While it typically wasn’t difficult to keep his abilities in check, the anxiety that rose in his frame caused him to hyper-focus on his enhanced hearing. Shoes crunching the miniscule grains on the pavement, a sneeze could be heard from a few miles away, and heartbeats were scattered through the house. No doubt a security team, and Clark wasn’t quite ready to stumble over his words trying to explain his presence. His right hand moved absentmindedly to his lapel, ensuring his Daily Planet reporter badge was clipped on securely, as he closed the remaining distance between himself and the front doors. Before he could raise his hand to knock, he was greeted by another in a crisp black suit. “Hiya! Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Is Miss Bertinelli home? I have a few questions for her regarding a story I’m working on.”

“Miss Bertinelli isn’t taking visitors at this time.”

@kryptonsxlastxson​

CLOSED

Diana immediately extended the well-decorated gift bag dangling from her slender fingers to her superpowered friend after greeting him. “As glad as I am to see you again Clark, and I promise I did come to visit all the Lane-Kents, if you do not show me those gorgeous infants Lois has sent me so many pictures of, I will be very disappointed” she stated, flashing a grin to emphasize she was only teasing. Though she was very eager to clap eyes on the offspring of the Man of Steel and Lois Lane.

Diana had quite the soft spot for children and and frequently wondered if she would have had any if she and Steve had gotten the happy ending they deserved. But then again, she didn’t like to think about Steve very often. Aside from a few moments of quiet reminiscence when she passed that old polaroid from the war on her mantlepiece. Of the very short list of her friends who knew the extent of her past, Clark was one of them. 

“Clark Kent the family man, I am so pleased for you” 

The Man of Steel couldn’t help the smile that danced across his features, his head shaking at Diana’s gentle tirade. “The boys are currently napping, but the moment they are up, I’d be more than happy to introduce you,” he teased back, taking the gift back from her hand before wrapping her in a warm embrace.

Konner stood staring at the twins. Had he ever been that small? He wished he had knew more about his own growth and development. “I-I don’t want to hurt them. They’re so small,” he said quietly. He was terrified of the twins in a way he had never been around Lux. They were his brothers? half-brothers? Can clones have siblings he pondered to himself. 

He placed a gentle hand on Conner’s arm. “Simply being in the same room as them won’t hurt anyone, Conner. You don’t have to hold either of the boys until you’re ready, Lois and I would never force that upon you.” Clark’s heart went out to the younger half-kryptonian. He surely didn’t know Conner’s experience with his powers, but remembered his own power struggle like it was yesterday. “I know you would never purposefully bring harm to them, or anyone for that matter. You are good, Conner.”

@kryptonsxlastxson​

CLOSED

“Hey, babe, can you bring me another-”

Lois glanced up from her laptop to find a steaming cup of coffee already being handed to her, in her favorite mug. Grinning, she tilted her head up towards her husband and released a loving sigh. It no longer surprised her, after being married this long, that Clark seemed to anticipate her needs before she’d even considered them. Much like he could sense a change in her mood without even she her expression shift, merely from a change in her breathing. It was nothing but a blessing and a privilege to be loved so entirely. “Thank you,” she responded warmly, gladley taking the mug from his grip and puckering her lips for a quick kiss before returning her attention back to her work.On one side of the screen, she had three email windows stacked on top of one another; on the other half, she had a word document open in which she had been taking copious notes. The standard collection of red squiggly marks beneath misspelled words present. “How are the boys? Still sleeping peacefully I hope.”

Though she was still actively on maternity leave – and frankly, you couldn’t keep her away from her babies for more than five minutes without her suffering from withdrawal – she’d been utilizing nap times to catch up on emails. Much to her and Clark’s weariness, synchronizing Jon and Jordan’s naps was a constant battle. Thus, even if Lois hadn’t been so absorbed in new parenthood, she would have had little time to miss work. Numerous sleepless evenings slumped over her desk when she first started at the Planet had not prepared her for being roused twenty times a night by the tiny wails of restless newborns. 

But oh was she beyond content. 

With the joys of parenthood keeping them both plenty distracted, Lois hadn’t touched her Antonio Martinez story in months. But, she certainly had not forgotten that what was intended to be an exposé on art forgeries had ended with her and Clark being cornered in an alley by a crook armed with a piece of fake Kryptonite. Talk about a plot twist. “I’m really starting to gather some pretty interesting information on our perp, though nothing about where he got that fake rock so far.” Little did the scoundrel realize, but his attempt essentially ensured that Lois would exhaust all available resources to investigate him. She did not take kindly to anyone threatening her husband life, farce or otherwise. “Called the state prison again as well, he still isn’t talking” 

Two tiny frames were curled up on Clark’s chest as he rocked the twins to sleep, his own eyes closed as he tilted his head back for a moment. While Jon drifted to sleep, Jordan continued to move about, his whimpers threatening a full-out meltdown. After laying Jon in his crib, Clark brushed his thumb gently along the little one’s forehead, Jon’s face contorting into an almost smile before relaxing as he continued to fall deeper into sleep. Jordan’s cries were growing more frequent, and Clark rushed to find a pacifier before both twins were wailing. He rocked Jordan, quietly pacing the length of the nursery as his eyes searched the surfaces, eventually resorting to using his abilities to look within the dresser and changing table before finding one. “Shhh,” Clark shushed gently, the sound quiet and soothing as Jordan began to calm in his father’s arms. Slowing his pace, Clark listened and watched intently as Jordan began to drift to sleep, only laying him down when it was certain the movement wouldn't jostle him awake once more.

His socked feet tiptoed from the nursery, pulling the door shut with a click before he leaned against the wall for a moment. Hands covered his face for a moment, his mind racing every which way. In the silence, there’s almost too much to think about. Though, the primary thought that occupied Clark’s mind was the unknown factor of abilities in the boys. With their human-kryptonian hybrid genes, it was anyone’s guess if, when, and how their abilities might manifest. 

Before putting the twins down for their afternoon nap, Clark has started brewing a fresh pot of coffee, knowing both he and Lois could use the extra caffeine. The sound of her fingers flying across her keyboard filled the room, the aroma of coffee twirled around their noses, beckoning them to enjoy one cup after the other, until the last drop. Pouring two mugs full, he stood behind the couch, passing the coffee to his wife before she could finish her sentence. "You’re welcome,” he hummed happily, leaning down to give her a tender kiss before climbing over the back of the couch to settle in. He was tired, and the extra steps seemed like far too much, compared to simply climbing over and finding his place at the other end of the couch, his head resting on the arm, his legs extended toward Lois. Clark reached for his book, opening it with one hand to where he left off, and sipping from the mug he held in his other hand. His eyes didn’t move across the page at first, but rather, his mind drifted, wondering if time in the direct rays of Earth’s yellow sun or simply ample sleep would do him better at his point in weariness.

As he pulled himself from his thoughts, eyes began to read across the page as he simultaneously listened to the even thrum of the boy’s heartbeats and the clack of Lois’ fingers across her keyboard. Clark looked up for a moment, a smile dancing across his face as he lay his book back down. “Y’know, you’re pretty cute when you work,” he started, his face already starting to mimic her facial expression. “There’s a little crinkle between your brows, right here,” Clark pointed, his index finger between his own brows. “It always appears when you’re putting things together. It’s truly endearing.”

Clark seemed overwhelmed, but he was sure that he thought it was worth it. He couldn’t imagine himself being a father, but that’s not to say he didn’t want that in the future, he just doubted he would plan it any time soon, “Nah, I’m good,” he smiled at his friend. He would offer to take care of the boys so Lois and Clark could have some time for themselves, but he was sure others had already offered and he wasn’t sure if they would accept the offer for now. He didn’t have kids, but he noticed that the first year, parents tended to want to be with their children 24 hours, “I’m sure she appreciates that too, humans need them more than we do, after all,” they needed their brain to rest, of course, otherwise it was too overwhelming, but it was just different for humans, at least when it came to Mon. He noticed he could stay days without sleeping and not have a problem, did he need sleep at all? “I’m sure they would love that, any signs of certain special abilities?” he asked, wondering if the boys had any kind of power, “I’m good, looking for a new job.”

“She doesn’t always say it, but I can tell she does,” Clark replied with a small smile. “She’s got a few weeks of maternity leave left, so I figure she should get as much sleep as she can before she’s buried in her stories again.” He’d be lying if he said he was elated for Lois to get back in the swing of things. Sure, he loved proof reading her fluid prose, and listening to her rant and rave about the stories she was working on, but he couldn’t help but worry about his beautiful bride getting into sticky situations that put her in grave danger. 

He worried for Jon and Jordan, and what their lives would turn into with the chaos that Lois & Clark held onto from day to day. “Hard to say with them still sleeping so much, but so far nothing. It seems like each day a little more of their individual personalities shine through, and it makes me wonder if they’ll even have any abilities at all. Once they’re a little older, I’ll might take them to the fortress, have the A.I. scan them for any indication of Kryptonian abilities.” Words tumbled from his mouth, rambling on without a breath. “Jon is quite laid back, content with most everything, and Jordan is a little more fussy." Clark’s head tilted slightly, brows rose at Mon’s revelation. “Job hunting, hmm? Any idea what you’re looking for? Maybe I can help.”

✎

I may have been raised in a small town, but I’m tougher than I look

Bemused was the immediate reaction Lois could identify at his claim, a muffled chuckle escaping her dubious lips as she glanced back at him. One brown eyebrow arched in doubtfully. She took one glance down his lofty physique; the sweater vest, the patterned tie, and those glasses – he reeked of the type that came from a town with nearly nonexistent rural crime statistics. “Sure thing, Smallville,” she quipped, her smile kind in spite of her unwittingly judgmental thoughts. Lois wondered whether he’d ever seen any real action and how he’d react if he told her that only last month, a mugger pulled a gun on her for ten dollars, two credit cards, a hairbrush, and a lipstick. Good thing the General taught her how to throw a punch – and gifted her a tactical stun gun last Christmas. Her judgement wasn’t coming from a place of malice and she certainly wouldn’t dare be intentionally condescending. It’s just that she’d seen this city chew small towners like him up and spit out the pieces. Not to mention, this job entailed a lot of personal risk – both voluntarily and otherwise. But damn, she loved it. “I’m familiar with small town life; I’ve lived in a few dozen of them,” her shoulders rose in nonchalance. “Army brat,” she explained.

Two ‘p’s’? Huh.

Lois swivelled on her heels. “Are you absolutely certain it’s two p’s because I could have sworn-” she was taken aback by his proximity and blinked rapidly in surprise, rearing back slightly to provide a bit more space. Without realizing it, she found her gaze pulled to his visibly animated grin. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from smiling in return. Lois knew exactly how he felt; she could still recall vividly the sensation that grew in her chest the first time she pinned her press badge to her belt. She prayed he never lost his enthusiasm, because she sure as hell hadn’t. Not wanting anyone to walk past the pair smiling at each other like a pair of loons, Lois averted her gaze and focused instead on that silly patterned tie. 

“Who told you to wear a tie?”

Before she could get her answer, she noticed a fellow reporter scurrying down the hall towards them, and her demeanor suddenly soured. Composing what she hoped was a neutral expression she stifled a sigh as Cyril Sterling approached. “Hey, Lois,” he greeted, files tucked haphazardly beneath his arm. “Cyril,” the only thing preventing Lois from glaring openly was a desire not to make a terrible impression on Clark; it was his first day and he didn’t need to know about office rivalries. She glanced up at Clark and offered a smile in apology. But Cyril was the bane of her existence. “So, uh, this is the new guy huh?” he extended a hand toward Clark, conveying an air of camaraderie. “Clark Kent, meet Cyril Sterling. Cyril, Clark” Lois introduced half-heartedly, waiting for Cyril to divulge the true motive for tracked her down. 

He was constantly vying for her position; kissing Perry’s ass, trying to steal assignments from under her, contacting her sources to get scoops. But, he didn’t have nearly as profound a reputation. She didn’t really consider him competition per say, rather a nuisance. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet ya, Clyde,” he replied, before turning his beady eyes to Lois. “Hey, did you finish that article you were working on? I’ve heard it was a pretty big expose” and there was it. Lois gave a brief grin and cocked her head. "Wouldn’t you like to know,” she murmured, intentionally aloof. “Oh come on, Lo, not even a hint about the subject,” he pressed. “It’s an Ode to Spring,” she sarcastically replied. “Go find your own story to chase Cyril. I haven’t got the time” and with that, she jerked her head towards the opposite direction, signaling to Clark they were leaving.

“Sorry about that, not his biggest fan,” she admitted. “Word of advice, don’t trust him with any information or you might find your article with his name printed beneath. Now” Lois had escorted them back to the rows of workstations occupied by their colleagues. Busy scurrying around in search of the newest scoops. “I always say the best way to learn is by doing, so let’s see what trouble we can get into today,” with a grin, she winked at him. 

What was happening in the world today?

Sure thing, Smallville.

A nickname. Lois Lane had given him a nickname. Nobody’s ever called him anything other than his given name, and the words she spoke filled his chest with warmth. “Huh.” Clark let out a truncated laugh, the sound stopping short in his throat. “Woah,” the sound swelled as the kryptonian was caught by surprise, his hands hovering on either side of her, ensuring she stayed upright. After he was certain they were both going to remain upright, Clark’s smile widened. His heart fluttered for but a moment as Lois smile back, her eyes twinkling under the harsh fluorescent overhead lights.

“I, um—” Clark’s words were cut short by another reporter joining them. He was silent as he listened to the back and forth discord between the two, trying to decipher why this man had Lois’ smile wiped from her face in seconds. His eyes flicked down at the hand offered, and Clark shook the man’s hand, mindful of his grip strength. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m exci—” Words were once again cut short, the obvious lack of respect for fresh reporters practically slapping Clark across the face. He lowered his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a few steps back and taking himself out of the conversation whilst still listening intently. He didn’t like this Cyril, and it was clear to him that Lois wasn’t the biggest fan, either.

He knew he should stand his ground, but now wasn’t the time to step on the seasoned reporter’s toes. He didn’t need to make waves before he even stepped foot in the shallows. Clark looked up, eyes watching from under his frames as a verbally civil power struggle ensued. It was clear that Lois won, and as she indicated that they were moving on, Clark walked past Cyril without giving him another glance. “I can’t imagine why,” He quipped sarcastically, smile returning once more to his face. “No need to fret, he doesn’t seem like the type of person I want to surround myself with, anyway. There’s competitive, and then there’s cutthroat. I prefer the former, personally. I don’t want or need close colleagues ripping stories out from under me.”

Konner stood in the door way looking at the tiny humans. “I - I didn’t know they were here, I’m sorry. I should go.”

“What? Wait, Conner. Please stay,” Clark pleaded. “Jon and Jordan sleep through more noise than you can imagine, including Lois trying to get something off the top shelf and consequently shattering a few dishes. It’s happened more than a few times. Trust me, they’ll sleep through some light conversation.”