I became a photographer for a reason. I see the world around me differently than others; I always look for the best angle to capture the subject in my frame, whether it be a person or a place. This view had led to a few rather remarkable revelations, one of such concerning my best friend, the man I'd thought was a simple guy from a small town trying to make it in the big city. I couldn't have been more wrong, or more right, really, about Clark Kent.

It had occurred to me one day when I was taking random shots around the office, as I've always done. It was less than a week after the whole New Krypton fiasco, Superman had yet to make more than a few saves, and those had been only the most extreme, and Clark was looking under the weather, which was unusual for Clark. The globe atop the Daily Planet building was in the process of being fixed, as was the lobby plaza and the rest of the city.

I had enough pictures of the destruction around town to not have to go out in the rain, so I was enjoying my digital camera around the bullpen. It made a good scrapbook for the annual Christmas party. It was remarkable, really, what can be seen in those pictures. I've been at the Planet for a long time and captured a lot of relationships, friendships or romances, in all stages through those photos. I always paid special attention to Lois, she had great eyes and skin for photographs even in the intense lighting of the bullpen, and she and Clark looked so good together, almost as good as their articles did on the front page.

Turning in my chair, I'd focused the camera and snapped a picture of the first person I saw and captured a moment I never would've seen coming. Clark Kent was sitting back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him, his face stoic, just staring out the window with such incredible sadness. It wasn't an unusual posture for people of late; everybody was feeling a little down to see the city in such a state, but this was Clark Kent. Clark had to be the happiest person on the planet. He was the thing keeping most of the rest of the Planet going, still giving goofy waves and smiling every so often at the jokes that weren't funny just to lighten the mood. Clark was also single-handedly bringing in half the material the paper was printing these days; most of the other reporters just weren't in the mood to write anything good, Lois excluded; she had turned in "Why the World Needs Superman" the day it had become public knowledge Superman had disappeared from the hospital and people were already talking about giving her another Pulitzer for it. I got a picture of Clark's face when she handed the article to him for proofing the evening before it appeared in the paper; it was definitely more of a 'Clark' face than the one I was looking at now.

To see Clark sitting like that, even for a moment, said something about his true character that even I, his best friend, had never noticed. Clark wasn't the goofy, oblivious, naïve guy everybody thought him to be. I stared at the picture on the tiny view screen, puzzled. There was something familiar in the posture and expression, but I couldn't place it. Maybe it was just the fact that it looked so un-Clark-like that made it seem like he was channeling somebody else in that moment.

I looked up again and he had turned around, looking at the bullpen. His hands were still in front of him, his face so serious, so worried for our welfare, eyes searching the faces in front of him to see who he would need to trip in front of and make self-deprecating jokes to. His eyes fell on me and his face caught itself up in a smile so sincere that I almost forgot how serious he had looked a moment before. He gave a casual wave and turned back to his computer, fingers flying over the keys with the speed Perry had hired him for all those years ago.

I looked back down at the picture on the camera in my lap and at the man with slouching posture typing away. They weren't even the same person. One had the weight of the world on his shoulders, the other… well, he looked like he had come in to work with the flu but was working through it with a 'brave soldier' face. Who knew Clark Kent cared and did so much for us all? Lois, I realized. Lois knew just how much Clark was doing for everybody.

There was something different in their relationship since he'd come back from his trip around the world. But Clark was different too, and so was Lois. They'd been very close friends, best friends really. They were practically attached at the hip in the three years they'd spent working together before he left, barely speaking when they had conversations because they knew what the other was going to say after only a few words. He'd left and Lois had withdrawn, she hadn't let anybody in except for Perry, who'd decided she needed a date. That probably hadn't been the best idea. She'd all but stopped speaking to him too. About a month after Clark's disappearance everything had changed. She'd agreed to let Perry set her up and had been with Richard ever since; it was that week, as well, that "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman" had run in the Planet.

I understood some of her depression, then. The two closest men in her life had left her. Her best friend and partner had put in his notice and left to see the world and days later the world had realized that Superman had really vanished. Crime had spiked, organized crime had sky rocketed, and Lois Lane had written a piece that screamed 'woman scorned,' but the world didn't see that. They were just as angry at Superman as she was. I was the only one who realized that she was pouring her anger at Clark into the piece as well.

Jason was born eight months later, premature. Richard had been ecstatic and so had Lois, but she didn't seem to be sharing the happiness with Richard, her smile wasn't as wide when he was around, but she pretended it was. There was something strange with Jason's reaction to Richard, as well. He would wail horrendously whenever Richard tried to hold him. Nobody mentioned it, and Richard laughed it off, but everybody noticed it. One look at the boy's eyes told me all I needed to know. They were Clark's eyes, cerulean blue in that way that only a Kansas farmboy can inherit from his father's time laboring under the sky. That was all the explanation I needed for the boy's wails; he wanted his real father, not the imposter who's shoulders weren't quite as wide and whose eyes weren't quite as blue. Richard didn't notice, and it was his name that went down on the birth certificate. I didn't say anything because Lois didn't say anything, not even Perry said anything and I know he noticed it just as much as I did.

Lois seemed to move on after that. Her writing improved after she returned from maternity leave. She filled all her spare time with little Jason. She lived with Richard and was engaged to him, but I caught her more than once staring at a small framed picture of her old partner who had disappeared off the face of the planet. I'd asked her about him once and she had been very quiet before changing the subject. She never talked about him.

The pair of them were so close after all those years, it was amazing. She hadn't forgiven him for disappearing easily. Perry paired them up right away, knowing he'd be a fool not to, but it took the New Krypton fiasco to pull them out of their past and get them looking at the future. Something about seeing Superman almost die seemed to have reminded them what it had been like when they were apart and made them want to not keep each other at a distance.

I had laughed out loud when I'd seen Richard's face the first time Lois and Clark had started acting like Lois and Clark again. It was only a day ago, Lois had brought Clark his coffee while she talked a mile a minute about why Superman should continue to keep away until the kryptonite was completely cleaned out of the harbor, how he should be resting. Clark only got one or two words into his counterpoint before Lois had already guessed the rest of it and was responding. Richard's mouth had hung open; not only had he never seen or thought of Clark as a guy who would talk back to Lois, but a guy who could talk back to her. Even Richard couldn't talk back to Lois. In all my years of watching Lois, only Clark has ever even come close to matching her, and winning a few of their confrontations from time to time as well. Not even Perry. Richard had learned to live with Lois' headstrong ideas, stepping back when she was following a story and sometimes following along to make sure she was safe, but Clark- Clark was actually able to talk her out of things. It was a miracle in itself. Unfortunately, there was definitely some jealousy on Richard's part when it came to the friend Lois hadn't spoken of since he'd left.

Just another layer on Clark Kent.

I should probably stop staring at him now.

Lois brought him coffee, she's got her hand on his shoulder, reading his screen. I snap a picture of them like that. It's almost as though he'd never left, as though they're working on their latest Luthor expose, which they are, but this time there isn't a sunny day with shining glass and steel buildings outside the window behind them. This time its raining in heavy wet sheets, the buildings behind are broken, the windows on a few shattered from Superman's quick speeds as he passed on his way to saving people as the city all but crumbled around them. There's a Superman-sized hole in Perry's office window where Superman shot out to grab the globe before it squished said editor-in-chief. The thing is patched with plastic and duct tape, billowing every now and then and making the chief irritable.

I'm staring at Lois and Clark again. Damn.

- - - Three days later - - -

I need a good picture of Superman for the front page again. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a picture of that guy these days? Not only is he still a scarce commodity, but when he is around it just doesn't seem right to take his picture. He looks so tired. The kryptonite is still being painstakingly dredged out of the harbor but, according to his interview with Lois, he can't feel it; one good thing among many bad things.

The city is still being repaired, the hospital is still full of wounded people, but at least there haven't been any deaths. Superman made sure of that even though it almost cost him his life. Lois was sure to point that out in her article from last week.

Back to the picture I need: he's never still. He's always flying away, or flying in, or lifting something, or pulling someone to their feet, or dropping the Daily Planet globe back in place. Great action shots, mind you, but I wish I could just get one of him standing there taking it all in. The public need to see a facial expression, something like what I saw on Clark three days ago would be great.

Clark hasn't slipped up in his little façade since. He's all smiles and waves and tripping on his feet. Lois has started laughing, lightly chuckling really, at him again, meaning she's doing a little better. She seems tense though, and I know Clark has noticed too. Like when I visited Lois in the hospital after Jason's birth with Perry, though I haven't mentioned it to Clark. Lois needs to think that other people don't notice these things for her to stay strong herself, or at least for her to tell herself she's being strong. Jason seems to have noticed too, though, and, surprisingly enough, he's been going to Clark about it, not Richard or anybody else.

The boy seems to know who his dad really is. They connected on the first day Clark got back. Jason walked right up to him and instigated conversation, which, in turn, got he and Lois talking again when she came looking for her son. They would've gotten over everything a lot sooner if Richard hadn't come up in the middle of that conversation.

"Dad," I hear Jason whisper and look around for the boy or Richard, wondering what they're doing so close to my desk. My jaw nearly drops when I see who Jason is talking to.

Clark Kent is turned around in his chair, eyes only for Jason, a curious look on his face. Jason and Clark know their relationship, which means Lois talked to them. Which means Lois talked to Richard? I don't think so. Richard certainly wouldn't let Perry keep Lois and Clark together as work partners if he knew Jason's true parentage.

"Yes?" Clark responds just as quietly as Jason asked. I look out the window to one side of them so that if one of them happens to glance up and see me watching them they'll think I'm looking there instead of focusing on the peripheral.

"Will you come visit me again tonight?" He asks in that little voice, his face has the same worried lines I saw on Clark's three days ago. Actually, Clark's worried lines are back now; he knows why the boy wants him to come and visit and he doesn't seem to like it.

"Jason…" he seems uncertain.

"I don't like listening to them yelling alone," Jason says even quieter. I can barely hear it from where I am three desks away.

"I'll come, Jason," Clark picks the boy up and wraps him in his arms. Jason has fists full of his father's neatly pressed shirt, tears that I hadn't noticed getting on the coffee-stained tie. "I'm sorry."

"Why can't we live with you?" Jason asks and I roll slightly closer so I can hear Clark's response. "You're nice to Mom, and you… you talk to me," Clark's arms tighten around the boy.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I'm so sorry," his voice is deeper than it usually is, full of pain and sorrow I didn't think a kid from Kansas could have in him. "We'll talk to Mom tonight, I promise."

"Okay," Jason nods into Clark's shirt, his grip relaxing. They sit there like that; Clark has again turned to face the window. I'm not sure if he just wants to look out the window, or if he moved purposely so that nobody in the room can tell that his wide frame is hiding his distraught son. I can see his reflection, he has that look again. The one that says he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and now I understand it a bit more.

Minutes pass, and Jason seems to have fallen asleep. Clark's hand traces a soothing pattern on the boy's back as he stares out at the city, not seeing me watching him. Lois comes over a second later, panicked about her missing son.

"Clark, have you seen…?"

"Sh," Clark interrupts quietly and she falls silent instantly, her face softening to see the pair of them peacefully together. He shifts so Jason is more upright in his arms, the boy obviously completely out. "Lois, he asked me to come over again," Lois' face fell. "He said he didn't want to have to listen to Richard yelling alone."

"Clark, he… we-"

"Lois, I-" he stops too and they just look at each other for a moment.

"He hasn't hurt us, either of us," she says in a placating tone. "He's just upset."

"And he has every right to be, but yelling, scaring Jason enough to crawl into my lap at work…"

"I didn't know Jason could hear that, he only yells after Jason's in bed, after he gets the wine out," her frown deepens.

"He's getting drunk?! Lois…" He's using that deep voice again that isn't quite his, it has more confidence and authority, but Lois either hasn't noticed or isn't bothered by it.

"Not drunk, exactly, just… loosening his tongue, I guess."

"That's not what I'd call a loosened tongue, Lois-"

"You've been listening in?" She almost sounded accusing but I couldn't figure out how he could be listening in.

"Of course I have, 'Lo, ever since Jason," he sighs and looks back out over the city. I'm left sitting there in their silence wondering when he started calling her 'Lo. I heard her father call her that and Gil Tracy decided it was a good nickname but he got decked for it, had to have reconstructive surgery on his left cheek bone. Not even Richard calls her 'Lo and he's her fiancé, but I guess he's not quite as close to the inside as everyone, including himself, thought. "I know I said I'd give you space but I can't help but keep watch… it's kind of what I do."

"What you need to do is sleep so you can get back up, even Perry is worried and if I can tell that Perry's worried, you're worse than you think."

"I'm fine, Lois, and we're not talking about me," there's a twinkle in his eye and Lois shoots him a look for not letting her change the subject.

"I'm just not sure what to do, Clark," she sighs, leaning against his desk and joining him in looking out the window. Somehow I get the impression that they can't look each other in the eye when having this conversation even though I've come to see them as the two strongest people I know. "He's a good man, I can't just leave him, but… he's not himself."

"I don't want him to hurt you, Lois."

"Like you'd ever let it get that far."

"You're right," he was smirking back. "But I don't want to tempt it."

"What are you suggesting?" Clark fell silent, his gaze still trained out on the city and the rain that continued to pour down on us. I caught myself thinking of Superman and how the rain couldn't be helping his recovery; at least Clark was back to his normal, healthy self.

"Jason asked me why you and he couldn't live with me," he said softly. I only caught a few of the words, but I knew what he was saying.

"You got an apartment?" Lois sounded surprised and I was just confused.

"Yeah, it's got a great hole in the wall, but…" he rolled his eyes, "Makes it easy to get in and out if you catch my drift."

They share a smile and a laugh. I don't get it, whatever it is. I turned back to my desk in a hurry when I see them focus on the glass to check the reflections. The only thing on the desk was my camera. That other side of Clark is showing through again, he's serious and calm, he's always been a little different around Lois, but I always assumed it was because he was trying harder to impress her. Obviously that worked, since Jason's here. But who knows with Clark? I used to think I did, but that's obviously not the case. Is he even my friend or was that part of the deception? Act like a geek, be friends with the biggest geek in the bullpen. I don't know Clark as well as I thought I did, but I doubt he could be so different that he would use somebody like that.

I need an excuse to look back at them. I pick up the camera and start pointing it around the room, eventually making my way into a position where I can hear their conversation without looking at them; a disadvantage, but oh well. They seem to have just finished checking for other ears because the conversation is right where I left it.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've got to sleep somewhere."

"I wasn't sure you really slept."

Okay, what does that mean?

"Not as much as some people, and its more of a mental thing than a physical thing, but still," I could hear the careful shrug as he tried to emphasize his words without waking Jason. "It isn't very big, Lois, but we would all fit. We could find another place after everything settles a bit."

"You'd really be willing to take us in like that?"

"Of course I would!" He sounds appalled that she would think otherwise. "Lois, this whole situation is my fault, if I hadn't have left… you know that if I had known I'd never have left."

"I know," the answer is quiet and I have to fight the urge to turn around to see their expressions.

"I'll do whatever you let me."

"He's usually out by eleven, the wine…" Lois gulped loudly behind me. "You can take Jason to your place after we tuck him in, come back and pack after Richard…" There's a rustle of clothing and I know Clark is touching her in some comforting way that only he seems to be able to manage for her.

"It's going to be alright, 'Lo," he says gently and I let myself turn around under the pretense of getting pictures from that angle. Neither notice as I snap the shot, already focusing another on a strange reflection to their left when they turn. They seem to think it's alright, that I haven't noticed anything, but they should know that I would never tell anybody any of what they said or did.

"Hey," I say when I 'notice' they're looking at me. "Jason having a long day?"

"Oh, um, yeah, I guess," Clark stammers, his voice rising to its usual pitch. Or is it the deeper pitch that's the real usual? I think so; otherwise he would stay with the higher pitch when he talks to Lois.

"Can I get a picture of him?" I ask. I really just want a legitimate picture of father and son together. I don't give them a chance to respond, bringing the digital up to my face and focusing on Jason. "I'll get prints for you sometime this week, if you want."

Lois just nods before taking Jason from Clark and walking towards her desk. She gets her coat and scarf, wrapping Jason in his own rain slicker in his sleep before heading towards the elevators. I know if I turned around Clark would be following her with his eyes just like me.

Two more pictures from the mystery. The first is of that comforting, forbidden touch. Lois is leaning against Clark's desk and Clark is turned in his chair to face her, Jason's head lying peacefully across his shoulder. His face is a mask of happy slumber on the broad, warm expanse below his cheek, his hair messy and poking out at odd angles like Clark's does every day. Clark's hair is actually lying flatter than usual these days, probably because of the constant rain matting it down everytime he goes out. His left hand is wrapped over his son's back, his right in holding Lois' hand to his lips. Her eyes are closed, taking in the comfort that nobody in the bullpen but I am seeing. I can see in the faces of the two Lanes just how comfortable and safe Clark makes them feel and I can't help but see why. He's just as comfortable with them, and he has that presence that he never lets through, you can feel it through the picture itself.

"OLSEN!" I jump when my name rings across the bullpen. My eyes flash to Clark's as they always do, the two dorks in the office sharing a moment of worry about what went wrong now. I get halfway across the bullpen before I realize my camera is still in my hand with that forbidden picture on the display screen.

"Yeah, chief?" I ask, closing the door behind me and standing nervously in front of the big desk, the camera having been turned off quickly on the way over. Old issues of the Planet are spread across the desk, potential layouts, new stories, pictures of his wife and his sister, an old picture I took of Richard and Lois usually in a frame closest to the door is missing.

"Let me see that camera of yours," he says. I freeze for a moment before handing it over. There's nothing incriminating on there, just out of character. There's that picture of Clark from three days ago, the two I just took, a couple of Jason that make it quite obvious who his real father is, that strange reflection in the window behind Lois and Clark that I haven't quite worked out what it is yet.

"I haven't got anything new, but… I got some great shots from around the bullpen," I say, hoping he's not looking for some amazing shot of Superman or firemen being heroic or something. The rain has kept me in the office for days; I've organized the old photos in the archives, made a couple dozen pots of coffee, organized the photos on my hard drive, taken enough pictures to fill up another hard drive… in short, I've been bored and stuck inside because of the rain. This is how I got into photography, actually; my mom bought me a camera to keep myself entertained while I was sick, and I wasn't the healthiest kid. I got pretty good at it and now here I am.

Perry turns the camera on and starts flicking through my pictures. The camera is tilted just right so that I can see them just well enough to know which he's looking at. The first on the memory card is a shot of the rain against the window behind Clark's desk. Clark desk isn't in the shot, just the rain against the glass and the still damaged building outside getting tarps taped down. The next is Perry pacing his office looking concerned about something. The next dozen are of random people around the office; sitting and working at their desks, watching the TVs as the next Superman update is broadcast, arguing about the spelling of dactylology, breaking out of the human brick that is the elevator in the morning. These interspersed with pictures of Jason that I've taken; he's a very willing subject because he's been almost as bored as I have trapped in the office this past week. Then there's the picture of Clark; the one where he's looking so solemn and un-Clark-like; Perry glances at me and then glances out the window at Clark, who is preparing to leave. He stares at it for a moment and then flips to the next one. A handful pass by without much notice, these mostly of Jason as well. Then there's the one I just took. Perry's mouth doesn't exactly fall open, but he's gaping at it.

"What is this, Jimmy?" Perry held the camera up so I could see better.

"It's, um, a picture… I took," I stutter, not sure if I should be trying to excuse Clark's actions after what I heard prior to the moment captured on my memory card. I just pray he won't delete it; it's a very nice picture I'd like to give to Clark someday. "Right before you called me in here, actually."

Perry looks out over the bullpen and finds both Lois and Clark gone. Richard is sitting in his office looking frustrated. "That's not what I meant, Olsen," he practically growls.

"I'm not sure, Chief, I just turned around and snapped a picture and that's what I got," I try to sound nonchalant but I know he doesn't buy it. Perry's too good a reporter and editor-in-chief to buy my tone. I'm almost as bad a liar as Clark.

"You're telling me that you were sitting three desks away and you didn't hear what they were saying? What are you doing working at a paper if you're going to zone out on what's right in front of you?" He looks up from the picture just long enough to glare at me.

"They were talking about a conversation Jason and Clark had about Richard," I admit. Like I said, I'm a bad liar, and he'd just get mad at me if I tried.

"Richard?" He's still glaring.

"Yeah, um, Chief, I don't think I should be talking about it, I was kind of eavesdropping and it was a private thing, and he's your nephew…" He held up a hand as if he were brushing away my protests.

"I know Richard and Lois don't have the happiest home situation right now, Olsen," he sighs, glancing at the spot on his desk where the frame used to rest so quickly that I almost miss it.

"Well, I- "

"Olsen," definitely some warning in his voice I should probably listen to for the sake of my job.

"I think Jason is Clark's son," I say in a rush and aren't surprised when he just nods, telling me that my observation of him wasn't incorrect when we visited the hospital all those years ago. "He just crawled up into Clark's lap, I was surprised, I didn't think either of them knew it…" he nods again. "He said Lois and Richard were fighting a lot at night when they thought he was asleep. He said he wanted Clark to come by tonight and comfort him, or something. Then he fell asleep and Lois came over looking for Jason and they talked for awhile… She's planning on leaving Richard tonight, she and Jason will go and stay with Clark."

"Good," Perry mutters just loud enough so I can hear it; I look at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. He sighs before saying anything. "I've been aware of tension between them since Kentcame back," he sighed. I still wait. "I knew Jason was Kent's- you noticed, too," I nod. "They were always close, Lois and Kent, no matter how much both of them denied it. Richard never knew Kent existed, except for what you told him and the pictures at Christmas… this was inevitable, I just wish my nephew wasn't the one getting burned, that he would be a bit more gracious about it… he's been buying a lot of wine."

I stare at him. This is by far the longest conversation I have ever had with my boss. It's usually gruff, impersonal, orders about the where and when for photos, complaints that this or that shot isn't what he wanted. Now he's telling me about his nephew's, his closest relative and a mutual acquaintance, broken relationship. All over a photograph.

"How much do you know about Clark, Chief?" I find myself asking, thinking back to that first photograph three days ago.

"What?"

"Well, just," I take the camera and flip it back to that other photo and hand the camera to him. "That's not Clark."

He contemplates the photo for a moment before looking back at me. "Clark Kent is a complicated man," he says slowly. I wish I could read people better. Usually I'm not that bad, but Perry White is a whole new ballgame. "He sees more than he lets on, knows more," he chuckled. "He's scooped Lois dozens of times and she doesn't even know it."

"I think she might."

"What?"

"Just- the conversation just before I took that picture. She seemed to know exactly who he is, you know, beyond the geek façade."

"Interesting."

Our insightful conversation ended then, with Richard throwing the door open and glaring at us. I clear my throat to break Perry out of his thoughts and it works.

"Olsen, I want a copy of that last one for myself," he barks. "The rest you can work into this year's Christmas album."

"Yes, sir," I say, grabbing my camera back and practically running out the door.

I have no idea what the pair of them talked about after I left, but neither was happy when the conversation was over. I passed the time emptying the memory card into my hard drive and sending the good ones to my email account.

- - -

I can't sleep when I get home that night. All I can think about is what Lois and Clark are doing as I sit in front of my TV eating my Chinese takeout and looking at the printouts of the photos.

I've been working on the Christmas album pretty much since last Christmas. Since Clark just got back I figure I'll make a review of the past five years, throw in a couple from before even that just to give Richard a hard time. I'm not thinking of him too highly at the moment; Lois is my friend and doesn't deserve to be treated the way he's been treating her, especially not with Jason, who happens to be the son of my two best friends, I realize.

I can't help but get lost in these old photos. The older ones, from before Clark left, are the best. It's before everything was so complicated, before Superman and before Richard. The first Christmas party's album from nine years ago, the first one with Clark in it, is downright hilarious. Clark had only been at the Planet for about four months and he was already smitten with Lois. At that point she hadn't seen the real Clark yet, I guess. They already had a comfortable banter at that point, but they're just friends. They can be seen joking, pushing each others buttons; Clark never knew to back down from Lois, which probably was the first sign of his deeper character. In one shot, Clark obviously just shot Lois down with some witty comment nobody expected to hear from him; the surrounding office members are gaping at him, Lois is looking somewhere between scandalized and amused, and the photo is slightly out of focus because of my laughter. More shots like that through the second album with the addition of those smiles that give a glimpse at a deeper attraction hidden beneath the surface.

Looking at them, I can almost see Clark's hidden character in all of them, but not quite. He looks like he has a secret, like he's hiding something from the world, and according to the pictographic evidence I recently acquired I know its there. I can't figure out this newest angle on him; it's so confusing. He's there for the first two-thirds of the fourth album since his arrival, but then he's gone. The pictures of Lois aren't so happy after that, and then she's showing early signs of pregnancy. Then Richard joins the club. Lois looks sadly happy, if that's possible, in photos with the man who would come to be Jason's father. Five albums without Clark, but with a growing Jason. Lois is smiling real smiles again, some of them, but not most, directed at Richard. And now I get to put Clark in the album again.

Don't get me wrong, there are other people and their developing relationships recorded in these pictures. It's just that Lois and Clark have been the two I've concentrated on since they met. They make sure a cute pair, and now they've got Jason. I'm smiling as I look at these photos.

Now I've got this new photo, concrete evidence of their relationship. But there's no way I'm putting it in the office album. They wanted it to be a secret from even me, their friend; I won't be outing them. I doubt Perry will either. He'll probably talk to Clark about it, make sure he's got Lois' best in mind. He cares for her like a daughter, though he'd never admit it. That's another thing I'll be avoiding admitting to him.

- - - Two Days Later - - -

I've made glossy 8 X 10's of the secret pictures requested of me. I left Perry's on his desk inside a folder. He gave me a 'significant' glance when I dropped it off on my way out; he was talking to Richard again and couldn't exactly have a look at it. Richard looked sad all day, and Lois hadn't shown up for work. Perry said he'd gotten a phone call, and Clark was in, so nothing could be too wrong. Clark was jumpier than usual; having to take off his tie and throw it away after it absorbed nearly half his morning coffee.

I waited till the afternoon to give Clark the prints I'd made for him and Lois, but he left before I could catch him, which would be why I'm in a taxi headed to his apartment. One of his comforting gesture, the one I'd had their consent to take with Jason asleep on Clark's lap and Lois watching carefully over his shoulder, and a few 5 X 7's of the photos I'd taken of Jason throughout the week. I'd included one of Lois biting her pen and looking up at me, I'd interrupted her contemplation of the front page Superman article she'd written and the paper was bent over to give us a view of the top of his black-and-white printed forehead. She was smiling around the pen in her mouth.

I'm at his door, number 4E, and knocking before I'm aware. I don't know what I'm going to say. What if Lois opens the door? Should I even pretend to be surprised that she's there? What if they aren't home? That'd be good, actually; I wouldn't have to think of what to say.

Crap they're opening the door.

"Jason! Hey, buddy," I say, seeing the little boy holding the door slightly ajar for me to see in. Clark comes up behind him wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. The dark of the t-shirt and his hair throws his eyes into sharp relief. He looks different out of the too-big suit and ugly tie he usually wears. He fits that more serious personality he displayed better like this.

"Jimmy!" He seems honestly surprised.

"Hey, Clark, sorry to just drop in like this," I try and look apologetic but I can't help but be interested to see what Clark's life is like outside work now that he's back. "You ran out before I could give you that print I made," I hold up the folder I've got the prints in, hoping he'll invite me in instead of take the folder and say goodbye.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he pauses. "C'mon in, I don't think you've been here since I got the new place… there's a hole in the wall but I've got a lovely tarp."

"No, it's been kind of a busy week," I smile. "Can't believe you've only been back a week. It seems like a lot longer than that."

"What a week to come back, eh?" Lois says, coming out of the bathroom. She's dressed down, too, something I've never seen outside of the hospital visits following Jason's birth, but I've sworn to have forgotten that entirely: well-worn bootleg jeans worn through in one knee, an overlarge sweatshirt from Iowa State, probably Clark's, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. It's weird to see them like this, the three of them looking almost like a family relaxed together for an evening. Clark's apartment is a lot like the old on; walls lined with plain bookshelves loaded with colorfully bound books, WWII posters, foreign film posters in different languages, a lumpy green sofa that looks incredibly comfortable pulled up against a worn out coffee table that had been in his old apartment, the coffee table is loaded with Jason's crayon drawings of Superman. There's a stack of pillows and blankets next to the couch, meaning Clark probably sleeps there and lets Lois and Jason use his bedroom. That's Clark for you.

"Yeah," I say with a light laugh. "Can't believe our luck, though… you brought Superman with you just in time."

They both tense slightly and I haven't the slightest idea why. Jason doesn't notice the tension, and Clark is the first to recover, laughing lightly. Lois just looks nervous. "Yes, see that's where I really was," he smiles. "I went to Krypton and got Superman back," we're both smiling. Lois is looking at Clark like he's crazy. Jason's coloring another picture.

"So what, um, what did you say you brought by?" Lois asks, sitting back on the couch and not looking relaxed at all.

"Oh, I brought that photo over because Clark took off so quick today," I hand her the folder a bit nervously. "You feeling okay, Lois, you didn't come in…?" I know the answer, but…

"Oh, um, yeah I'm fine," she shrugs. "I talked to Perry, just needed a day off."

"You deserve it," I say. She just smiles and opens the folder.

"Oh, Jason, look! It's you," she holds up the 5 X 7 and shows it to him. He smiles Clark's smile and takes the picture to bring over to Clark. They seem more like a family than ever.

"My nose looks funny," he comments and Clark laughs gently.

"Your nose is just fine," Clark assured him, and Jason made a face at the photo, poking his nose, and set it next to the drawing he was working on. "Want something to drink, Jimmy?"

"Uh, sure."

"There's water, milk, lemonade, or orange juice, I think," Clark walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"I'll have some water, I think."

"Alright."

Lois tensed up when she got to that one photo, looking at me with worry in her eyes. I felt myself blush, not able to quite meet her eyes.

"Jimmy…?"

"I might've been a little closer than you thought on that one," I mumble. She looks worried, like I might run off and tell the world that she hasn't been completely honest with them, but then I think about it. Richard thought he was Jason's biological father, but with just one look Perry and I both knew it was Clark's son lying in her arms.

"I, uh," Lois stammered, reminding me of Clark. Speaking of Clark, he's standing behind Lois looking at the picture. I grab the glass of water from his hand before he breaks the poor plastic cup.

"Perry and I always kind of… suspected," I say lamely, taking a gulp of the water and gesturing to the photograph.

"You…" Clark trails off; I can't believe the unbalance I see in his eyes. He isn't even remembering to use his higher pitched voice.

"Really?" Lois asks, handing the photo back to Clark and flipping through the others. "Why didn't you say something?"

"We thought you might tell us on your own terms," I shrug and they both look kind of guilty. "That shot was just too perfect not to capture, though," they both smile, obviously agreeing with me.

"Jimmy…" Lois started, but I shook my head.

"I should get going," I heard myself saying, though I did kind of want to know what they would say. "Just, uh, know that the Chief's got a copy of that picture too, and, uh, I'm here if you need anything."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Clark said in that not-so-unfamiliar baritone again. I just shrug and smile, and hand him back the half downed glass of water before heading to the door and letting myself out.