Episodes 4 & 5 Mxysplit

Episodes 4 and 5: Mxysplit

By Sheila Harper

Summary: Chaos occurs in Metropolis when Mr. Mxyzptlk appears and
begins granting people's every wish. And when Mxyzptlk overhears
Clark wish he were just "a normal man," Lois Lane suddenly
finds herself with two husbands! (Episode # 4 and # 5 (titled
"All Mxyed Up") of The Unaired Fifth Season)

***

PART ONE: MXYSPLIT

The being hovered before the enormous interdimensional vortex,
thoughtfully watching the whirling energies fold and unfold on
themselves. He reached out -- not with his hand or mind, but with
his magic -- and touched the surface of this interstice between
dimensions --

-- and it reluctantly yielded to his touch.

Yes! Magical energies exploded from him, light and color and
sound washing over him in a kaleidoscopic celebration. Since his
banishment to the fifth dimension by that third dimensional
goody-two-shoes, Superman, he had waited, testing the barrier
again and again, but it had remained stubbornly impenetrable.

But a mindless interdimensional bridge couldn't possibly match
Mr. Mxyzptlk for stubbornness, and he had whiled away the
timelessness by reading up on what humans chose to worship. Their
gods, it appeared, were in the business of answering prayers --
or, more simply, granting wishes. And in return, humans
acknowledged the gods' supremacy and right to rule over them.
Recalling that, he grinned: sounded like just the relationship he
wanted to establish.

Mxyzptlk tested the barrier again, and this time, his magical
probe pierced the vortex with no resistance. Giggling to himself,
he gathered up the energies that had spilled from him and wrapped
them around him like a cloak, like a black velvet jacket with
white ruffles, like a purple tunic and bowler. Then, without a
backward glance at the fifth dimension, where he was just one
more being with magic to burn, the imp dove into the vortex.
<Look out, Earth! Look out, Metropolis! I'm ba-ack!>

***

The snick of a window closing and the whoosh of a super-speed
spin change penetrated the blanket of sleep enveloping Lois Lane,
and she glanced at the alarm clock when her husband climbed into
bed. <Four- *what*?!> She blinked and looked at the LED display
again.

"Four-fifty," he said, answering her double-take, and the
weariness in his voice stopped the manic flood of questions that
clamored in her mind. But being Lois Lane, she couldn't resist
asking one or two.

"Honey, what is it?" She reached for him. "Did something go
wrong?"

Drawing a shuddering breath, Clark turned into her embrace and
buried his face against the curve of her neck. For long moments,
he clutched her, letting the reality of her presence strengthen
him. Lois held him, her cheek resting against the top of his
head, rocking gently as she crooned reassurances that she loved
him and was there and always would be. And after a while, he
sighed and relaxed.

"Did something go wrong?" Lois repeated.

"No, it was okay," he said against the side of her neck and
added, "A sinking cruise ship ... Just took a long time to get
everyone out."

"Then what -- ?"

He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm tired, Lois. I don't know
if I can keep doing this."

Lois reached back and turned on the lamp beside the bed. In the
soft light, Clark looked exhausted -- worse, defeated. She
stroked a tumbled lock of hair away from his face, her hand
lingering on his cheek. "Keep doing what?"

He countered her question with one of his own. "How long has it
been since we had dinner together ... or watched more than the
opening titles of a movie or -- " he kissed her soft mouth --
"actually had time to make love?"

She had been ready to be a cheerleader for him, to encourage him
to get up and fight the good fight yet another day, but after
tonight's dream, she couldn't deny the truth of what he said,
and her gaze fell before his.

He took that wordless response for an affirmative. "I feel like
... Superman is swallowing me up. I mean, I have the life I've
always wanted -- right *here* in my hands ... a job, a home,
friends ... a wife I love more than anything ... And I'm not
home enough to enjoy any of it. God, honey, I don't know why
we're even talking about a baby. I haven't been home enough to
make one."

A sad smile quirked one corner of her mouth. "It does seem like
there've been a lot of emergencies for Superman lately."

"A lot?" He counted off his absences like they were crimes.
"Lois, I've left you alone every night for the past two weeks.
I was gone all weekend with the flooding and mud slides in
California from El Nino. I haven't made it to bed before 4:30 in
longer than I can remember, and if I didn't see you at work, I
wouldn't see you at all."

Lois was silent for a long moment; then she snuggled against him
in her favorite position, her head on his shoulder and her hand
on his bare chest. "Maybe you should cut back," she whispered.

"No! I can't -- I -- "

She frowned and lifted her head to study him. He had sounded so
appalled, almost panicky. "You can't? Clark, what is it?"

He started to shake his head, but her look stopped him. "Okay,
you're right, it's -- " He stopped, trying to find the right
words. "I'm almost glad I've been too busy to get more than an
hour of sleep a night."

"Are you having bad dreams again?" she asked, remembering the
dream that had so disturbed him when Tempus had returned to
Metropolis as John Doe.

"Well ... yeah," Clark admitted. "Except this starts as a
really good dream."

"Oh?"

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "We're
making love -- " She turned her head and kissed his fingers, and
he smiled -- "and then I hear a call for help -- "

"You don't really hear things like that -- not then, do you?"

"No. When we're that involved, I can't seem to hear anything
but you," he assured her. "But in this dream I do, and I'm so
tired of having to leave you every time someone needs help that I
ignore it. You know, let the police or fire department handle it.
But something goes wrong, and people die."

He felt the sudden tension in her body. "And afterwards," he
continued, his voice shaking, "their families appear in our
room. They don't say anything. They just stand there, holding
their loved ones ... and look at me."

"Oh, Clark, that's awful." Lois slid her arms around his
strong body, trying to comfort him. She hesitated, then added,
"But ... isn't that what you said you had to learn to accept
when you put on the suit -- that you couldn't save everyone?"

"Yeah ... but this isn't because I'm not fast enough or
because I can't be everywhere at once. It's because I want to
stay home with you." Clark clung to Lois, his face buried in her
soft hair. "Honey, I can't keep making this choice -- staying
with you and giving you the attention *you* need while people die
that I could have helped ... or helping them and leaving you
alone all the time,,, God, I wish I was just a normal man!"

***

High on the wall, an inconspicuous, fly-like speck perched in the
shadow of the door jamb. Had Clark cared to used his special
vision, he could have seen that the speck boasted a head of curly
dark hair and a goatee and mustache and was dashingly clad in
black velvet. Mxyzptlk grinned to himself. He had headed for Lois
and Clark's townhouse as soon as he broke through the
interdimensional barrier. And this was just what he was looking
for: a chance to gain that interfering boy scout's gratitude.
Mxyzptlk rubbed his tiny hands together. This was going to be
good ... *really* good.

***

Lois caught her trembling bottom lip between her teeth. Clark's
voice had been so full of anguish that it was just as well she
couldn't grant his wish -- because she would have done it
immediately, and the world's need for Superman be damned.

Almost from the moment Clark first put on the suit, she had been
encouraging him to do what he could, to realize that whatever he
*could* do was enough. She had repeatedly kept him from giving up
-- but what could she say to this? She couldn't tell him not to
worry about leaving her -- not when she missed him so much, when
some nights she would give anything to fall asleep in his arms
and awaken there in the morning. But she couldn't ask him to
stay, either -- not when *he* was the one who would bear the pain
and guilt if anyone died because Superman didn't help them.

The only way to live with such an impossible situation was by
maintaining a careful balancing act. But Clark was too tired and
upset to see that. "You wish you were normal,,, Does that mean
you regret all the good you've done as Superman?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. Especially all the times
I've saved one feisty, brilliant, headstrong reporter." Clark
smiled and kissed the tip of her nose; then he sobered abruptly.
"Lois, I'd never wish Superman gone -- I just wish I wasn't
him."

A deep voice, like the voice that spoke to Moses in "The Ten
Commandments" rumbled through the room. "Your desire is
granted, my child."

Clark jerked around, scanning the room, searching for the source
of the voice, even as Lois clutched the sheet to her breast and
demanded, "Who's there? What're you doing in our room?"

"I don't see-rggh -- " Clark stopped abruptly, groaning and
pressing the heels of his hands against his temples.

"Clark! What's wrong?" Lois cried.

He groaned again. "I don't know. I'm -- I'm -- it's tearing
me apart." He scooted away from her, his hands still pressed to
the sides of his head with a force that would have reduced a car
to an aluminum pie plate.

Before Lois's horrified eyes, Clark seemed to shimmer and
brighten. "*Lois*!" he cried, his voice echoing oddly in the
small room. She reached for him -- and was suddenly flung to the
other side of the bed, not by a hand, but by something like an
electric shock. "Oh, Clark," she whispered, fists pressed to
her mouth as she watched helplessly from her side of the bed.

His blurry figure shone brighter and brighter, and Lois blinked
painfully. She shaded her eyes with one hand, and through the
brilliance, she saw his figure grow thicker, wider, and then it
began to pull apart. Her heart clenched, and a faint whimper
broke from her throat. <Oh, God, Clark! What's happening to
you?>

Slowly the blazing light dimmed, and Lois rubbed her blurring
eyes and looked at Clark -- then blinked and rubbed her eyes
again. Of all the times to be unable to focus properly!

"Lois," he said, his voice still echoing. He was sitting on the
very edge of the bed, and he flinched at the sound of his voice.
As he did, he lost his balance and teetered backwards -- and
leaped back in flight as she had seen him do once in a courtroom
--

-- at least, *one* of him did.

The other one tumbled backwards onto the floor, hitting his head
on the nightstand with a sharp thud. "Ow!" he cried.

Lois scrambled across the bed. Clark had never hurt himself by
banging his head against something; he wouldn't notice if she
smacked him on the side of the head with a two-by-four. But this
Clark --

She looked up to see the other Clark hovering by the door, and
she slowly sank back onto her heels. <This Clark? The other
Clark?> "Oh, God ... oh, God," she whispered and covered her
mouth. It wasn't blurry vision. There really were two of him.

One was floating about 12 inches off the floor, and the other ...
was sitting up on the floor, rubbing the back of his head. Both
had dark hair and soft brown eyes; both were bare-chested and
wore red- and-navy plaid sleep shorts, and they were as much
alike as Superman and his clone had been years before.

Except one was flying and the other had hurt his head when he
fell off the bed. What had happened? "Clark?" she began.

The man on the floor looked up. "Lois? What's -- ?"

"Su-Superman?" she continued, and the flying man lifted his
fascinated, horrified gaze from his double and nodded.

She shut her eyes. It was impossible. Things like *this* didn't
happen -- not out of the blue, not --

But it hadn't been out of the blue. There had been a voice,
deep, resonating: amplified, almost. And it had said ... "'Your
desire is granted, my child,'" she quoted.

Clark stood up, an arrested expression on his face. "I wanted to
be normal -- "

" -- and you wanted Superman to be someone else," Lois
finished.

Superman settled lightly on the floor. Side by side, the two men
were more identical than any twins -- or clones -- even down to
the same freckles. Lois bet their fingerprints were identical,
too. Perfect duplicates -- except for the powers.

"So -- I'm Superman," he said. "But ... I remember being
Clark."

Clark frowned. "And I remember being Superman."

Lois chewed on her lower lip, thinking furiously. Her husband
hadn't been duplicated -- this wasn't like meeting the Clark
from the alternate Metropolis. It was almost like --

Superman lifted his head sharply, focusing on a cry for help he
alone could hear. "I have to go." In a flesh-colored blur that
became a streak of red and blue, he rocketed from the room with a
hurricane roar of wind that ended in a sonic boom.

Clark raked his hair back from his face. "Wow."

***

Sitting on a cloud high above the city, Mxyzptlk watched Superman
streak toward the car stalled on the railroad tracks, the driver
frantically yanking at a sticking door handle while a train full
of sleepy-eyed commuters bore down on her. That could be a good
place to grant a few wishes, the fifth dimensional visitor
thought, but ... <Nah> Better to stay away from Superman until
he'd had a chance to realize how wonderful it was to have had
his wish granted.

Mxyzptlk focused on the Kents' townhouse, where Lois and Clark
were sitting on the edge of the bed, talking. The imp nodded with
satisfaction. Everything was in line for a happy ending. It was
time he found more wishes to grant, and he knew just where to
start.

***

"It's almost like ... you've been split into two people,"
Lois finished.

Clark yawned and blinked to clear his eyes. "Instead of being
duplicated and losing my powers? That could be, too. I don't see
what difference it makes, though." He yawned again and
stretched, easing tired muscles. "Honey, I'm too tired to
think. Can we talk about this later? I've gotta get some sleep,
or I won't be able to string two sentences together at work."
Groggily, he aimed a kiss at her cheek, missed, and connected
with her ear, but he didn't notice as he collapsed onto his
pillow.

Even in sleep, he held her hand, and Lois stroked her thumb back
and forth across his strong wrist. She had never seen Clark fall
asleep in exhaustion. Well, there was the time he fell asleep in
her Jeep after she thought he'd been killed, but she'd always
half-suspected he'd faked it to avoid a discussion he was afraid
of. It wasn't like this ... sudden collapse into
unconsciousness. In a year of marriage, she'd learned he didn't
like going without sleep; he'd told her that he needed it to
stay mentally alert. But she also knew he was capable of staying
awake for days, when necessary. Listening to his slow, steady
breathing, she wondered if this was what happened when a human
body tried to cope with the demands of super feats.

She touched her husband's cheek tenderly -- and suddenly
realized that it *did* make a difference whether he had been
duplicated or split. If he had been duplicated, the original was
her husband and the duplicate no more her spouse than an
identical twin would be. But if he had been split, neither one
was entirely her Clark, yet both were the genuine article --

-- and she had two husbands.

***

The elevator door opened onto the newsroom of the Daily Planet.
"Hold still,,, There, I think it's stopped bleeding," Lois
said as she picked a piece of tissue from one of Clark's shaving
nicks.

Bleary-eyed, he nodded and drained his coffee cup, making a face
at the cooling liquid and heading for the coffee pot as he
stepped off the elevator.

Lois followed cautiously, expecting Perry's roar at any second.
They were late. Damned late. The kind of late that had bosses
making caustic comments like, "Oh, are you here? I thought you
were takin' a sick day," or "You think you're gettin' paid
to stay in bed all day?"

But there was no roar -- because there was no boss. Perry wasn't
in his office or the bullpen. Or anywhere else, she learned when
she flagged down Celine, who had replaced Carl in Travel. He
hadn't come in yet.

That was almost as unusual as what had happened in their bedroom
that morning. Perry *never* missed work, never came in late or
left early. So what was going on? She joined Clark at the coffee
pot, where he was cautiously sipping a fresh cup of the steaming
black liquid. "Clark," she hissed, clutching his arm, "Perry
isn't here."

"Wha -- ?" Her grab jostled him, and hot coffee sloshed onto
his hand. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, startled by the sudden pain.
"That -- hurt."

She lifted her gaze to his, stricken by her thoughtlessness.
"I'm sorry, Clark," she whispered, looking down at the faint
red burn on his hand.

A tiny, rueful smile touched his mouth. "It's okay, honey. I'm
not made of china any more than you are. I'm just not -- "

"Made of steel," she finished for him. "Let me get you
something cold to put on that."

He nodded, and she hurried away. A movement on the ramp caught
his eye. "Hi, Jimmy. What's up with Perry?"

Jimmy Olsen shrugged, frowning. "Beats me. He isn't answering
his phone, and Advertising's about to have a heart attack." He
half- turned away and stopped, his expression unhappy.

Clark recognized his friend's desire for a man-to-man chat.
"What is it, Jimmy?" he asked, trying his coffee again. At
least this time he didn't sear his tongue -- although the tip of
it still felt odd, and he found himself continually rubbing it
against the roof of his mouth.

"Nothin -- " Jimmy began, then broke off, a sheepish grin
spreading across his face at Clark's skeptical look. "Well,
okay, it -- " He took a deep breath, and his face settled back
into lines of depression. "Penny broke up with me last night."

Feeling stupid with lack of sleep, Clark had to search his memory
for the name, finally putting it together with the tall blonde
who'd had a crush on Superman. Jimmy'd been going out with her
for several months now. He shook his head, trying to shake off
the fatigue that clogged his brain. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I know
you really liked her."

Jimmy nodded and looked down, scrubbing the toe of his shoe
across the carpet. "Yeah. I did. I still do." He glanced back
up at Clark, a painful smile flickering at one corner of his
mouth. "Pretty stupid, huh?"

Clark shook his head. "It isn't stupid to care about someone
else, even if she doesn't care about you." He looked beyond
Jimmy to Lois, who was approaching from the hallway. "Sometimes,
you can't help yourself," he added softly.

She pressed a cold can of soda into Clark's hand, and his
eyebrows snapped together in silent question. "I couldn't find
any ice. Hold it against the back of your hand," she murmured,
then said to Jimmy, "My advice: lose yourself in your work.
Nothing helps a broken heart like chasing down a good story."

"Yeah, thanks." Jimmy headed back down the ramp. "Except I
don't get to chase down stories," he muttered to himself. "And
research leaves too much time for thinking."

***

Superman soared high above Metropolis, his super senses extended
as he looked and listened for problems that needed his
assistance. He'd been in time to save the woman whose car had
stalled on the railroad track, but the rescue had been trickier
than he'd expected. Just as he'd swooped in and picked up the
car, the door finally popped open, and he barely caught the
driver before she slammed onto the tracks. Her eyes nearly popped
from their sockets when the train roared under them an instant
later. He hadn't been able to think of what to say to calm her
down, so when he stopped at the hospital to make sure his
desperate catch hadn't hurt her, it took three emergency room
attendants to disengage her stranglehold on him.

Since then, he'd saved a child who'd ridden his bike in front
of two lanes of on-coming cars and put out a fire in a downtown
office building. Superman executed a smooth barrel-roll, enjoying
the morning sunshine on his face, feeling a pleasurable rush as
the sunlight re-energized him. No need to race back to The Planet
after that last rescue, to fall in with whatever excuse Lois had
used to explain his absence. The only thing on his calendar today
was helping people.

Below him, the last of the rush-hour traffic on the 110 slowed to
a crawl, then stopped entirely as he approached the Hobbs River
bridge, where he saw a tanker jack-knifed across the bridge,
blocking all four lanes of traffic. As he plummeted earthward to
move the tanker, Superman heard a siren wailing, and he looked
around to see an ambulance trapped in the gridlock, the driver
waving at him frantically.

"Superman, thank God!" the ambulance driver greeted him as he
drew alongside. Then the man lowered his voice. "We have a
gunshot victim onboard -- and he won't make it if we can't get
to the hospital right away."

Superman nodded. "I'll take you to Metropolis General." The
driver called the EMT who was in the back of the ambulance as
Superman reached down and grasped the running board and soared
upward. The ambulance floated with him, leaving the traffic jam
far below.

Trapped in the parking lot that used to be a high-speed freeway,
one driver, a mother with two toddlers squirming in their car
seats, watched Superman wistfully and sighed, "I wish *I* could
fly out of here like that."

Immediately, a deep voice boomed, "My child, your desire is
granted," and the maroon Toyota drifted skyward.

***

"The voice is the key," Lois insisted.

Clark shrugged. "Okay, but I think it's the whole wish thing.
Who -- or what -- would have that kind of pow ... er?"

The end of his question trailed off as a commotion at the
elevator caught his attention. But no matter how hard he
listened, he couldn't make out what the jumble of voices were
saying, and he exhaled sharply, frustrated by his "deafness."

Lois noticed his distraction and turned to look, just as Perry
and Alice emerged from the crowd. She stood up. "Perry?" she
said incredulously.

The gray-haired editor had his arm around his wife, and they were
walking so close that they were in danger of stepping on one
another. Lois turned to look at Clark, her eyes wide with
disbelief. "*Perry*?" she asked again.

"Oh, good, Lois. You're here," he greeted her. "I'm gonna be
gone for a few days -- " and he beamed at Alice and squeezed her
waist -- "and I need you to take over for me like you did
before. Just temporarily, Clark," he added, "so don't be
gettin' your nose outa joint."

Clark started to protest the older man's belief that he was
jealous of Lois being given the responsibility, but Perry waved
him quiet and kissed Alice on the cheek. "We're goin' to that
Trojan Honeymoon Hideaway, so you kids need to hold down the fort
till I get back."

Lois finally found her voice. "This is kind of sudden, isn't
it, Perry?"

"Spontaneous," he corrected. "Seize the moment. You don't ask
questions when life hands you your dearest wish."

At the word "wish," Lois and Clark exchanged troubled glances.
Clark began, "Perry, this morning you didn't make a wish -- "

" -- or hear a voice," Lois added.

" -- did you?" they finished in unison.

Their boss shrugged. "Same wish I've made every morning for two
years -- that Alice would love me like she used to." He smiled
down at his wife, who tipped back her blonde head and kissed him
on the cheek. "Only difference is today she called me and asked
me to come by."

"So, you didn't hear a voice that said, 'My child, your desire
is granted'?" Lois continued.

Perry laughed. "Lois, if I started hearin' voices, I'd wonder
what was mixed with my coffee. 'Sides, the King was on the
stereo singin' 'Blue Suede Shoes.' I'd'a had to have ears
like Superman's to hear anything else. Now, you take care of my
paper, and I'll see you kids in a couple days," he said, and he
and Alice strolled back to the elevator.

"But, Perry -- " Lois objected to the editor's retreating
back. He dismissed her protest with a wave behind his head, and
she turned back to Clark, who shrugged.

"You think that's another one?" she asked.

"Wish granted? I don't know. Could be just a coincidence."

She gazed across the newsroom to where the elevator doors were
closing on a blissfully happy Perry and Alice. "I hope so," she
said.

Word had spread, and Advertising, Layout, and Distribution were
determinedly closing in on her desk. "Clark, what about -- ?"
Lois hissed, using their hand gesture for flying.

He stopped. Did she think he couldn't do his job without super
powers? A muscle jumped along his jaw, but he controlled his
sudden anger. Maybe that wasn't what she meant. "I'll try to
find out if Superman has heard anything about this," he said and
walked to his desk.

***

Jimmy Olsen paused as he passed one of the televisions in the
newsroom, his attention caught by footage of a swift-moving
figure in blue. LNN had a short piece on a cruise ship Superman
had rescued last night. He watched the brief report, shaking his
head. "I bet Superman never has to worry about being dumped."
An ache to be more -- - *other* than he was -- clenched in his
chest. "Boy, I wish I had women falling over me like *he*
does."

Immediately, a deep voice boomed, "Your desire is granted, my
child."

Startled, Jimmy jerked around. "Hey, who said that?"

***

After setting the ambulance down at the Metropolis General
Hospital Emergency entrance, Superman returned to the bridge and
the jack- knifed tanker --

-- to find four cars soaring through the air over the river.

He didn't have time for more than a mental, "Oh, no!" as he
chased down the nearest car. The toddler and baby in the back
seat were crying, and the woman driver's eyes were wide and
panicky in her set, white face. Rather than grab the car's
undercarriage and pull it down, Superman flew alongside and took
hold of the door handle and driver's side mirror so he could
reassure the woman, "I've got you, ma'am."

She let her breath out in a sob. "Oh, Superman, *thank* you!"

As he brought the car down, he asked, "What happened?"

"I don't know. I was stopped in the traffic jam, and I saw you
lift the ambulance up, and I was wishing ..." She stopped,
embarrassed to confess her idle desire. "Anyway, the next thing
I knew, my car was floating into the sky."

Wishing ... Superman felt an unpleasant knot in his stomach. He
struggled to find the words. "Did you -- did you hear a
voice?"

Frowning, she started to shake her head; then her face cleared as
she remembered. "Yes, I did. Someone said ... my wish was
granted. You don't think -- ?"

He shrugged and lightly set her car down beyond the traffic jam.
What was happening to him? He'd been tongue-tied before, but
never like this. "I have to go," he said, looking at the other
soaring vehicles. Two of them appeared to be playing "chicken,"
and he leaped skyward, rocketing toward them.

There wasn't time for a reassuring, side-long hold. Superman
streaked under the nearest car and lifted it straight up. Even
so, the bumpers scraped as he raised the car out of the way.

"'I was wishing ...'"

"'A voice? Yeah ...'"

"'Your desire is granted ...'"

With each car he rescued, Superman heard the same story, and with
each repetition, the sinking feeling in his stomach increased.
Something magical was loose in Metropolis, and he was afraid the
flying cars were only the beginning. He needed to discuss it with
Lois when he got back to The Planet.

Except ... he wouldn't be going back, and there wouldn't be any
discussion with Lois that got things clear in his mind. Clark was
already at The Planet, and Superman had no place there any more.

He stopped in mid-air as he realized the enormity of what had
happened to him. <Oh, God.> A wave of desolation swept over him,
catching at his breath, but he dealt with it like he did any
other disturbing emotion: he shoved it to the back of his mind
and went to help someone else. As he touched down by the
jack-knifed tanker, the driver greeted him with, "Superman, are
*you* an answer to prayer!"

The Man of Steel flinched, but no disaster followed the truck
driver's words. Relieved, Superman swept his cape behind him and
walked over to where the driver was inspecting his tanker. "Is
there a problem?" he asked.

"I don' think so," the driver said. "I'm haulin' sulfuric
acid, and I jus' wanna make sure the tank isn't leakin'
anywhere."

"Let me," Superman offered and examined the integrity of each
weld and seal with his x-ray vision. The swift, pin-point
precision of his heat vision reinforced a seal damaged when the
tanker struck the side of the bridge. "I think you're okay for
now, but I need to move your truck."

The driver was shaking his head, pointing, his startled gaze
fastened on something behind Superman. "L-look!"

The superhero turned and, without hesitation, hurtled toward
downtown -- and the disaster that crashed through the crowded
city streets.

***

Mxyzptlk gleefully watched the Tyrannosaurus Rex step down from
the billboard and take a few uncertain steps down the street and
stop, cocking its head to one side. The boy who had wished he
could see dinosaurs "for real" was standing absolutely still,
his mouth open, as he stared at the huge predator. <Another happy
customer,> the imp thought and vanished in search of more wishes
to grant.

All around the boy, people began to point and scream. They shoved
against the other people on the crowded sidewalks, beating on the
people in front of them in their haste to get away, and their
panicky flight triggered the dinosaur's hunting instinct. With
its huge head snaked forward, cruel jaws opened, tail extended
behind him like a tightrope walker's pole, the Tyrannosaurus
began to run toward the screaming crowd.

Terrified, the boy who wished for the dinosaur stood frozen --
until the huge foot came smashing toward him. Adrenaline unlocked
the child's muscles, and he dove to one side, just missing being
stepped on by the enormous predator.

But his quick, jerky movement drew the T. Rex's attention, and
the monstrous head whipped toward the boy, yellow reptilian eyes
following his desperate scramble to get away. For an instant, the
dinosaur drew back; then it lunged forward, dagger-like teeth
snapping down.

***

A streak of red and blue tore past the hungry beast, lifting up
the child and gently depositing him on the other side of the
street. The crowd, which only a moment before had been watching
in horrified fascination, suddenly burst into applause and
cheers. Superman stopped for an instant, frowning in thought,
then dove headlong at the giant dinosaur.

He shot past the snapping jaws and grabbed a foreleg -- the only
part of its massive body he could get his arms around -- and
soared upward. Jerking its forelegs, throwing its head back,
kicking out with its powerful hind legs, and flailing its tail,
the T. Rex rose into the air with him. Soon they were high enough
that the crowd was safe from the animal's frantic struggles.

Superman took a firmer grip on the creature. But what was he
going to do with it? he thought helplessly.

***

Jimmy approached Clark's desk hesitantly. "Clark?"

Clark didn't look up from his keyboard. "Hang on while I finish
this sentence," he said, tapping the keys for a few more
seconds. "Okay. What's up, Jimmy?"

"You didn't just ... call me or anything, did you?"

"Huh-uh. Someone playing games?"

"I guess," Jimmy answered. "It was weird, though. It almost
sounded like someone said my wish was granted."

Clark's head snapped up, his story forgotten. "What did you
wish for?"

He ducked his head. "You know how it is. I saw Superman on TV,
and I was wishing that women would go for me like they do him."

Clark rolled his eyes. Jimmy could have it. Adoring women
flocking underfoot wasn't all it was cracked up to be. But ...
"So, has anything happened?"

Jimmy laughed. "Not unless you count Peggy, Arlene, and the new
girl in research all tripping and falling on me when they walked
by."

"*All* of them? Falling on you?" Clark frowned. "Jimmy, what
*exactly* did you say when you made your wish?"

"You know, that women would -- would fall for me." He listened
to what he'd said and looked up at Clark. "Hey, Clark, you
don't think -- -? Nah," he answered himself and started away.
"That's crazy." He stopped and turned back. "But if I find
out it's Ralph, I'm gonna pop him one."

Clark waved him away with a sheaf of paper, his mind working
furiously. The wish. The voice. And now the wish coming true in a
crazy sort of way. He got up and headed for Perry's office. He
needed to talk to Lois about this.

***

"Dr. Klein?" A lab tech poked her head into the special
projects lab at S.T.A.R. Labs. "You're wanted up front."

The balding doctor didn't look up from the electron microscope,
so the tech added, "It sounded urgent."

It was always urgent -- at least to the bureaucrats who filled
the front office. Bernard Klein thought about ignoring the
summons, but then he remembered that the board of directors was
still considering whether or not to fund his latest proposal.
This was not a good time to disregard requests from the front
office. He sighed. "I'll be right there."

***

<They should have told me it involved Superman,> he thought. The
Man of Steel came to him with some pretty incredible requests and
problems, but even for him, this one was ... extraordinary. Klein
craned his head back to look at what appeared to be a
Tyrannosaurus Rex, which Superman held in the air by one forearm.
"Superman, where on earth -- ?"

The superhero gave him a tight smile. "Downtown." He shook his
head. "But I need some help."

The dinosaur began to kick and curve its head around to try to
crunch its jailer in its vicious jaws, and for a moment, Superman
was busy maintaining control of the aggressive behemoth. "I
don't know what to do with it," he admitted, when the T. Rex
had quieted some. "Do you have some rope or cable?" He glanced
up and down the animal's astonishing length. "A lot of
cable."

Dr. Klein wrote something on a piece of paper and gave it to the
tech who had summoned him. "Give this to Dr. Braswell. Tell her
she'll need enough to knock out -- " he eyed the dinosaur --
"at least a dozen elephants. And hurry!"

The lab tech stumbled backwards, still looking at the dinosaur
hanging in midair. "Hurry!" Dr. Klein repeated. He looked back
up at Superman, who was again fending off the predator's teeth
and clawed feet. He should get word to Drs. Fetting and Marshall,
too. They would jump at the chance to examine a living specimen.

***

Lois poked her head out of Perry's office. "Clark! Where's
that cruise ship story?"

"In a minute. I'm just checking it over."

"Hurry. I want you on that voice thing," she reminded him.

He nodded, finishing the last sentence in a rush, thankful that
he was still a fast typist, even without super speed. But, as he
keyed back to the start of the story and began rereading to check
the flow, frustration gnawed at him. He wanted to start
investigating that mysterious voice, but he was shackled by a
normal reading rate.

<You wanted to be normal,> he reminded himself. <This is part of
it.> A few minutes and several corrections later, he sent the
story to his impatient spouse, then picked up a pencil and
started writing down everything he knew or guessed about this
wish-granting business.

He, Jimmy, maybe Perry. It was either a pattern or an amazing
coincidence, but there was nothing to get a handle on. It wasn't
exactly the sort of thing he could find in the hall of records --
and since he couldn't mention his own experience, it looked like
a complete non-story.

But, if someone was going around granting wishes -- and Clark
couldn't imagine what else was going on -- maybe someone,
*somewhere,* had reported *something.* He picked up the phone and
punched a speed-dial number. "Yes, may I speak with Inspector
Henderson?"

The police department was a waste of time. Henderson was out, and
the other detectives didn't know anything, or else they weren't
talking. Clark cradled the receiver for a moment, trying to think
of who else might know if something was going on. He kept shoving
away the thought of how easy it would be to check the city -- if
only he still had his powers. He flipped open his Rolodex and
started down his list of sources. "Bobby?"

Three minutes later, Clark sent a quick message to Lois's email
box, then grabbed his dark brown jacket off the back of his chair
and headed for the elevator.

*** Jimmy shut the darkroom door behind him and started down the
hall, studying the prints he'd just made. "Hi, Jimmy," a soft
voice said.

He glanced up. "Hi, Lynda -- " then photos scattered everywhere
as he dropped them to catch the pretty blond copy girl, who had
unaccountably tripped and fallen into his arms. But for the first
time that day, he didn't find himself thinking, Why me?

She managed a shaky laugh. "That was ... strange. It almost felt
like someone pushed me."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling
admiringly. "Thanks."

Looking into those dazzling eyes, he seemed to have lost the
power of speech. "Ummm ... sure."

She looked down at the mess of pictures on the floor. "Here, let
me help you," she said.

***

Lois pushed her way past the production staff filling Perry's
office and stopped at Clark's desk. "Clark, I just got word
some cars are flying around the Hobbs River bridge on the
one-ten. Go check it out."

"Honey -- " She turned back, and he continued, "I've already
got the story on the flying cars. I'm writing it up now."

"Wonderful!" She impulsively kissed him. "Can we run it on the
front page? What do you have?"

"Ten inches of copy, but no pictures."

The whooshing sound he'd only heard a few times before
interrupted him, and he turned back to see Superman standing by
his desk. "Superman?"

"You might be interested in the T. Rex I took to S.T.A.R.
Labs."

Lois tore her gaze away from Superman, and she pointed to Jimmy,
who had been wandering around with a silly grin on his face since
Lynda had dropped into his arms. "Get over to S.T.A.R. Labs with
a camera. I need pictures for the front page." She ignored the
demanding voices coming from Perry's office. "Clark, Superman,
can I see you for a minute?"

The men gave identical nods and followed her into the conference
room, while Jimmy fumbled through his camera bag. In the
conference room, Superman stood against one wall with his arms
crossed over his chest and Clark leaned against the other, his
hands shoved in his pockets. Lois looked back and forth from one
to the other. "This is ... incredible," she finally said.

The two men eyed each other, and she wondered if she was
imagining the hint of challenge in their exchange. "What did you
need, Lois?" Clark asked.

She felt like a schoolgirl caught staring at her latest crush.
"Oh, right ... We need a way to contact you -- " she nodded to
Superman -- "in an emergency. Before, I could always get hold of
Clark, but now ..."

"That doesn't do any good," Clark finished.

"What's wrong with, 'help, Superman'?" his doppelganger
asked.

A muscle in Clark's jaw jumped. "I'm not yelling for help when
I'm not in trouble. But I needed to talk with you about this
wish business, and I couldn't get hold of you."

That exchange had an odd undertone. Lois frowned and studied the
two men, noticing Superman's arrogant posture, his muscles
bulging intimidatingly under the sleek spandex, and Clark's
in-your-face attitude as he all but jabbed a finger at
Superman's chest.

They almost acted like they were jealous, she realized and
decided to bring them back to order. She turned to Superman. "I
need that emergency contact device, method, whatever, from you,
ASAP." Then she turned to Clark. "And I need *you* to get the
details from Superman on this Jurassic Park thing and add it to
your car story for the front page. We're on deadline here, Cl --
guys, and I need you working together, not -- not -- playing
games." She jerked the door open and paused. "And, by the way,
dinner's at eight."

Lois carefully did not slam the door behind her, and she strode
across the newsroom to Perry's office, sternly forbidding
herself to look back at the men she loved or otherwise weaken in
the posture she had taken. Perry had left her in charge, and she
was -- by God -- going to get the paper out, whether those two
wanted to work together or not.

But she could guess only too well how they felt. Despite the
trauma of being drugged, knocked unconscious twice, brainwashed,
and hypnotized, one memory of that awful time after her and
Clark's first wedding remained clear. Tied to a chair in Lex's
underground hideout, queasy from what was left of the drug in her
system, fending off his taunts, weeping inside because her
wedding to Clark had been wrecked ... and then that childish
image of herself walked in, babbling about Clark's muscles --

Lois closed her eyes. For an instant, strangling on jealous rage,
she had wanted to kill the creature that had stolen her wedding
night with Clark.

"Lois? Lois? Are you okay?"

She opened her eyes to see Margie from advertising, the older
woman's blue eyes clouded with concern. "I'm fine," Lois
said. "Just thinking of something else. So, what were you saying
about the Christensen account?"

***

Clark turned away, blindly picking up a spare notebook and
fumbling through it until he found a blank page. He wasn't used
to Lois looking at someone else with that expression in her eyes.
"Okay. What d'you have for me?" If he kept this professional,
maybe he could get through it before his growing sense of loss
and jealousy choked him.

Superman looked blank. "Have?"

"Yeah. On the T. Rex at S.T.A.R. Labs."

"Oh. I -- I caught it when it tried to eat a little boy."

Clark frowned. Was his double deliberately trying to make this
difficult? "C'mon. You know the drill. Let me have the facts
first."

"The drill?"

"Yeah. Who, what, when, where, how, and why. First thing I --
you -- learned in journalism class. Remember?" Chagrined, Clark
bit his lip. Even if this... Superman ... was pretending to be
obtuse, that was no reason for him -- Clark -- to lose his
professionalism. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "How 'bout if
I just ask you some questions?"

"Sure."

It was hard for Superman to look at his double, knowing that
Clark was the one Lois would be going home with, but he hid his
jealousy and sense of loss under the grave, slightly detached air
Superman always had. As he answered Clark's probing questions,
part of him was frantically trying to make sense of what had
happened. Clark had spoken to him as an equal, someone who 'knew
the score' -- and he hadn't had the faintest idea of what Clark
was expecting him to say. And when he had captured the T. Rex, he
hadn't known what to do with it. His memories told him that he
used to be able to figure things like that out, that he used to
know what sort of information Clark needed for his story. But his
brain felt like it was wrapped in layers of cotton wool and
information only passed through slowly, if at all. What was
*wrong* with him?

***

Clark sniffed the bags appreciatively. "From Cuginos on 48th?"
he asked. "Mmmm, I love their food."

Lois smiled over her shoulder as she set a plate on the dining
room table. After work, he had changed into jeans and that black,
band- collared shirt she liked, with the sleeves rolled back to
his elbows. She sighed, tempted just to forget dinner. "I
know."

He reached around her to set the silverware on each side of the
plate, trapping her between his arms while he pressed the length
of his body against her back. Nuzzling the side of her neck, he
murmured, "Then you also know what pasta does to me." He
clasped her waist; then his hands slid up her ribcage, stopping
just below her breasts.

She leaned against him, tipping her head back onto his shoulder.
"Why do you think I went to Cuginos?"

Clark bent down to capture her smiling mouth. She tasted faintly
of tomatoes and oregano, and he grinned and slid his arms around
her as he deepened the kiss --

-- when the unwelcome sound of a super speed arrival interrupted
them. He lifted his head, lips still parted for their kiss, and
met his double's hard, dark eyes.

Lois pulled away, laughing nervously and looking at her watch.
"Right on time," she said.

A flicker of something crossed Superman's face, and he folded
his arms across his chest, his expression remote. "Maybe I
should -- " he began.

"No, oh, no!" she exclaimed, launching into full babble-mode.
"You're not interrupting, and you're certainly not intruding.
I *want* you here tonight, for dinner and ... well, we have a lot
of things to talk about, and -- "

He held up his hand to stem the flow of words. "Okay." He drew
a deep breath and glanced at the white bags of food, and a tiny
smile flickered at one corner of his mouth. "Mmmm, Cuginos.
Lois, you shouldn't have." He uncrossed his arms and joined
them at the table, his cape lifting as he walked.

Each man sat at one end of the table, with Lois along the side
between them, and in deference to her determinedly light-hearted
chatter, Clark tried not to sulk and, instead, join the dinner
conversation. It was odd to look at himself from the outside: to
hear the whoosh of his arrival; to see how big, how well-defined
he looked in the supersuit; to notice the automatic deference
people paid his alter ego. But as he watched the sparkle in
Lois's eyes as she showed Superman the front-page picture of the
discomfited T. Rex hog-tied in front of S.T.A.R Labs, Clark found
himself wrenched for the second time that day by an emotion he
hadn't felt for years: jealousy of Superman.

Polite, deferential, always supportive of Lois, never correcting
her writing or arguing over how to pursue a story -- and add to
that the undeniable impact of Superman's physical presence, that
aura of competence and -- face it -- sheer sexual power -- and
the only wonder was that Lois had ever noticed Clark Kent at all.
Even when he had tried to impress her ... Clark winced. The
Chinese takeout from Shanghai, the ballroom dancing he had
learned from a Nigerian princess, his linguistic fluency ("I can
order dinner in 347 languages") -- they were all *him,*
Superman. Without the super powers, what did a farm boy from
Kansas have to offer a woman like Lois Lane?

He took a deep, shaky breath, then stood abruptly and put his
napkin on the table. "I'll take care of the dishes," he said.

Startled, Lois and Superman turned to look at him. "You don't
have to do that, Clark," she said. "We can get it later."

Stacking the plates and silverware, he shook his head, trying for
a casual smile. "Honey, it isn't like we have company to
entertain ... and it's my night to clean up, so scoot."

She started to protest, but the phone rang then, and she went to
answer it, still turning to look back at Clark. "Oh, hi, Paul,"
she said. "What -- ? ... They did? ... Okay, so what have you
done with -- "

The kitchen door swung shut behind him, cutting off the rest of
her conversation, but he'd heard enough to guess that it was one
of those editor-in-chief problems. Clark set the dishes in the
sink and turned back to get the rest when Superman came in with
the glasses and utensils. "You didn't have to do that."

Superman set the glasses on the counter and started rinsing them
one at a time. "If it's your night to clean up, it's mine,
too."

Clark threw Superman a glance of surprise, then took the glasses
he held out and stacked them in the dishwasher. The two men
worked quickly in strained silence, the running water and
clinking of dishes the only sounds in the kitchen.

As Clark finished loading the silverware, Superman wiped the
water off the counters and threw the sponge into the sink, a
humorless smile crossing his face. "This isn't what I thought
it'd be."

He wasn't talking about doing the dishes. Clark pushed the
dishwasher closed. "Yeah, I know."

The kitchen door swung open, and both men turned to see Lois
sweep in, clearly in a no-nonsense mood. She stopped, surprised
to see them sharing such a homely task. "What are -- ? Never
mind. Sit down," she directed, indicating the breakfast table.
"I've got the answering machine on. *You* -- " she pointed to
Superman -- "aren't going anywhere, and we are going to discuss
this wish thing -- *now.*"

The smile that spread across two faces was the same one she
originally fell in love with. Alone, it made her heart flutter
giddily; doubled, she felt like her insides had just melted, and
she wanted to forget this crisis, forget the world, and lose
herself in his arms. <Whose?> her inconvenient conscience asked.
It didn't matter, she told herself, because she wasn't going to
get sidetracked by a smile. Lois Lane was made of sterner stuff
than that. She tried to regain the determination she had walked
in with as she took the seat at the end of the table. "Okay.
Wish-related incidents. Clark?"

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Me
wishing to be normal and have someone else be Superman, Jimmy
wishing to have women fall for him -- not literally, but that's
what actually happening," he added for Superman's benefit.
"And probably Perry wishing to get back with Alice." He thought
for an instant. "Oh, and I followed up on that T. Rex thing. You
were right," he told Superman. "That little boy had wished he
could see real dinosaurs."

"You didn't put that in your story," Lois accused.

Clark nodded. "I know. I -- we -- " he glanced across the table
at Superman -- "decided it wasn't wise to let everyone know
they can wish for something and it'll happen."

"Boy scouts. Both of you." She shook her head and contented
herself with glaring at each of them. "Superman?"

He sat straight in the chair, his arms folded. "In the cars --
they all wished they could fly. This afternoon, some kids wished
they didn't have any school, and their elementary school ...
vanished." He answered the concerned question in their eyes.
"No one was hurt. I was ... flying by when it happened, and I
caught the people from the second floor."

"This is getting scary," Lois said. "What happens when someone
gets upset and says, 'I wish you were d -- umph -- '"

Clark and Superman clapped a hand over her mouth at the same
time. Above their hands, her eyes were shocked, then furious, and
finally sheepish. The men cautiously removed their hands,
expecting an explosion, but Lois shook her head, laughing at
herself. "Okay, so I guess I still jump in sometimes without
checking the water level."

"Sometimes?" Clark breathed, and Superman threw him a look of
amused agreement.

Lois ignored that by-play and continued, "We don't know enough
about this voice/wish-granting thing. Have either of you tried
wishing to return to normal?"

The startled way they looked at her was answer enough. "So,
*try* it," she said. "What'll it hurt?"

Clark shrugged. "I wish I were my normal self -- Clark Kent and
Superman, together."

The three froze, waiting for ... something. But nothing happened.
No voice, no bright light, no poof. Nothing.

"Maybe we have to wish together," Clark suggested, and he and
Superman tried that, with the same result.

Lois frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe you've used up your wish. Let
me try. I wish Clark Kent and Superman were the same person
again," she said loudly, looking skyward, but it had no more
effect than before.

"We aren't crazy!" Lois said in exasperation. "All day people
have been making casual wishes and getting them. So what's wrong
now?"

Superman shrugged, but Clark shook his head. "Lois, I think
maybe you were right," he said, turning to her eagerly. "You
remember -- you said that voice was the key. Maybe someone's
actively granting wishes ... and he has to be present to hear
them."

Lois protested. "But -- but *no one* has that kind of power!"

"Do you remember the party at The Planet last Christmas?" Clark
asked.

"Sure. Your parents came, and ... You mean that little guy with
the crazy name that we had to get him to say backwards?"

Superman shot Clark a questioning look. "Mxyzptlk?" he asked.

"That's what I think."

"That's ... serious." Superman looked appalled.

"What?" Lois asked. "Why?"

"He -- he can do ... almost anything," Superman explained.

"Honey, he has *no* moral restraints. He told me he wanted to be
the god of this world," Clark added, "and he was afraid I would
stop him, so he set up that whole time-loop thing at Christmas
just to get rid of me. Regardless of who else got hurt. Lois, he
is unbelievably dangerous."

She took a deep breath. "Well, we got rid of him before, so how
are we going to do it this time?"

"We have to find him first," Clark said.

Superman looked up, that faraway expression on his face as he
listened to something beyond his companions' hearing. "Maybe I
can help." And he shot out the back door in a streak of red and
blue.

*** The "Superman Express" rollercoaster at Metropolis Gardens
amusement park was billed as the fastest, highest rollercoaster
in the world ("Fly like Superman! Find out what it's like to be
faster than a speeding bullet!"), and it was the most popular
ride at the park. But the screams coming from the passengers
today weren't cries of terrified delight, and the crowd at the
foot of the ride bore more resemblance to rubberneckers at a
disaster than eager customers awaiting their turn.

Superman swooped down to the controls, where a sweating park
employee was frantically pushing buttons. "What's wrong?"
asked the Man of Steel.

"It won't stop," the middle-aged man gasped. "The board
wouldn't respond, so I tripped the power, and it's *still*
running."

Superman was airborne before "running" had died away. He
scanned the track with his microscopic vision and saw the man was
right: no electricity sparkled in the lines. But at that
magnification, he could see energy glimmering in the power
cables. Magic, he guessed, and braced himself as the
rollercoaster cars hurtled toward him. The passengers looked
terrified or sick -- or both -- but he didn't have time to
notice the relief appear on their faces when they saw him. His
attention narrowed to a single spot on the front car where he
could get a handhold and push against the magic-driven force.

The roar of the approaching cars filled his ears. His head
snapped forward when they struck his hands, locked in front of
him, and his boots skidded down the track. The resistance that
stopped a runaway city bus was hardly slowing the cars, and he
began to put some muscle into his effort.

The rollercoaster rolled to a gentle stop at the boarding area,
and the passengers staggered off, some hurrying as far away as
possible from the crazed ride, others stopping to thank Superman.
In the midst of the confusion, his super hearing picked up a
conversation between a teenage boy and girl.

"*You* may have wanted that ride to go on forever," she
groaned, "but once was enough. Next time, you can go by
yourself!"

"Christy," the boy called after her, "I only said that because
I wanted to keep riding with you."

She turned back. "You did?"

Superman sighed. Another careless wish granted, another disaster
averted.

***

By the time Superman returned to the townhouse on Hyperion, he
had chased all over the city, cleaning up Mxyzptlk's disasters,
but never catching sight of the imp himself. It looked like
Mxyzptlk only hung around long enough to grant a wish, then left
to find a new set of victims.

Superman streaked into the darkened living room and turned back
to close the window behind him. He pressed the heels of his hands
to his eyes, feeling a bone-deep weariness that was more than
just no sleep the night before. Too tired to walk quietly, he
floated up the stairs, instinctively heading for his room --

-- where he was stopped by a locked door. His hand had tightened
on the doorknob when the sounds from inside the room stopped him:
breathless gasps and sighs; low groans; mouths clasping and
unclasping moistly; his voice -- no, Clark's -- murmuring,
"Mmmm, Lois, you're so beautiful"; and then the soft whisper
of lips on skin and Lois's muffled cry of, "Oh, Clark, yes
..."

A shiver went through Superman. He remembered those sounds, the
feel of Lois in his arms, with a knowledge that went far beyond
any power of Mxyzptlk's to erase. Superman, Clark, or Kal-El: he
loved Lois Lane with an intensity that made him ache, and he
cursed the 5th dimensional imp for this division that took away
his right to be her husband.

He turned away from the master bedroom and opened the door to the
spare room. For a long moment, he stared at the empty double bed,
his enhanced vision clearly showing him -- even through the
darkness -- that the covers had been turned down. Behind him, the
soft sounds of lovemaking filtered through the closed door:
nothing that a normal human would have heard, but too loud, too
immediate for his super hearing to ignore. Memory and imagination
relentlessly supplied images to his over-tired mind, and with a
sharply in-drawn breath that was almost a sob, he opened the
window and flung himself into the night sky.

***

A shaft of moonlight fell across their bed, casting the planes of
Clark's face into sharp relief. Lois raised up on one elbow,
watching him sleep, resisting the temptation to smooth the
tumbled hair off his forehead. Tired though he was, he had taken
his time making love with her, drawing it out until she was
crying out and clinging to him. And afterwards, he had murmured,
"I love you, Lois," and collapsed onto the bed, asleep almost
before he hit the mattress.

She gave in and tenderly stroked the dark hair away from his
face. <You don't have to try to be Superman for me, sweetheart,>
she told him silently. <I love you as you are -- however you
are.>

That was the truth. If his powers never returned, he was still
the man his past had made him, and she couldn't help but love
him. But ...

She carefully got out of bed so she didn't disturb him and,
picking up her nightgown from the floor, slipped it over her
head. But ... without his powers, there was no denying that he
was different. It was, she thought, rather like an unexpected
disability from an accident, something that changed the way they
behaved and related to each other, a physical change they were
going to have to get used to.

That would be hard enough ... except his powers hadn't been
erased. All of that part of him had been torn away and put into
another self. Lois closed her eyes and crossed her arms, hugging
herself against a sudden chill. <Another self.>

This wasn't fair. It was hard enough for Clark and her without
her having to resist a siren call from Superman. She recalled
telling Lucy -- years ago, not long after she first met Superman
-- that there was something between them, a connection --

-- and changed though he was, it was still there.

She studied Clark's face, her gaze touching his beloved
features. She loved her husband: passionately, physically,
intellectually ... on every level, she needed him, and he met
that need. And yet, she couldn't deny the bond that drew her to
Superman.

Oh, God. Was that it? Was the bond she and Clark had always felt
an outgrowth of his Kryptonian nature? No ... Mr. Wells had said
that their souls were mated together. It didn't depend on
whether Clark was a Kryptonian or not.

She relaxed in relief, closing her eyes and testing her
connection with Clark. It was still there -- that something that
said they belonged to each other. It drew her so strongly these
days that she was stunned that she hadn't recognized it when
they first met, that she hadn't looked into his eyes and
immediately realized he was the man she wanted to spend the rest
of her life with.

But ... at the same time, she could feel the bond tugging her in
another direction. One soul in two bodies? she wondered.

Lois slipped out of the room and crossed the hall to the guest
room. She tapped lightly on the door, but silence answered her,
and she opened the door and put her head in. "Superman?" she
breathed.

The streetlight outside the window showed her an empty bed, the
covers as smooth as when she had turned them down earlier. He
hadn't come back. At least, she hoped he hadn't, imagining his
feelings had he returned right after she and Clark went to bed,
while they were ...

She went to the window and stared out into the night. "Be
careful," she whispered.

***

The first glare of sunlight touched a figure perched high on a
ledge overlooking Metropolis, his bright cape wrapped around him,
his head resting on his arms crossed over his knees. The light on
his eyelids awakened him, and Superman lifted his head and opened
his eyes. <What the -- ?> he thought, startled by the sight of
the city spread out below him. Then he remembered, and he sighed.
He didn't want to go back to the house on Hyperion, but he
needed to share his findings. He drifted upward, stretching out
as he soared into the bright morning light. He would make it a
quick trip.

***

Clark was knotting his tie as he walked into the kitchen. "Good
morning, honey," he said and bent to kiss Lois, careful not to
disturb her hair or makeup. He touched his tongue to his lip.
"Mmmm, fresh orange juice."

She grinned. "Fresh from the box." She got the juice out of the
refrigerator and poured him a glass. "Clark, you know when we
were talking about whether you were duplicated or -- or split
into two people?" At his blank look, she continued, "Remember?
Yesterday morning, before you fell asleep."

He shook his head. "Sorry, honey. I don't remember. I guess I
was pretty tired."

"Oh. Well, anyway, I've noticed something. I really think that
somehow that Mix-lick guy has split you into two people."

He took a swallow of his juice, then swirled the glass, watching
the juice splash high onto the sides. If she didn't know better,
she'd think he was ignoring her. "Don't you see, Clark?
You're the one who figured out who was behind this wish
craziness."

He looked at her, his eyes flat and opaque. Whatever confidence
their lovemaking the night before had given him had vanished at
the reminder of his double. "Yeah. So?"

"So ... if you and Superman were exact duplicates with the same
memories, *both* of you'd've come up with the answer."

He frowned thoughtfully.

At least he was thinking. "And you still write like the
Kerth-winning reporter you are," she went on, "while Superman
... Didn't you notice that he hardly talks now? You may have
lost your super powers, but he -- "

" -- lost his communication skills," Clark said slowly.

"And the creativity, too," Lois added, "or whatever you use to
make connections or dream up ideas." Cheered by the arrested
look in his eyes, she finished, "I think he -- the imp thing, I
mean -- took the easy way out and gave one of you the brains
..." She waited.

"And the other the brawn?"

She nodded, and Clark considered that for a moment. "So ... what
does that mean?" he asked. "Neither of us are the real
thing?"

"Oh, no! *Both* of you are. Partly, anyway."

Partly? Something deep inside him bristled at the idea that he
was less than he'd been. But that was the point, wasn't it.
Superman had the powers he had taken for granted for so long, and
he ... he had the quick mind and facility with language that had
been part of him for as far back as he could remember. And
luckily, that's what they would need to get rid of Mxyzptlk and
get back to normal.

For the first time since he had felt himself splitting in two,
Clark grinned. It was good to know that *he* had what it took to
defeat the bad guy.

***

Clark turned the watch over, studying the buttons on the face.
"This is that hypersonic prototype from S.T.A.R. Labs, isn't
it? The one Jimmy had a few years ago."

Superman shrugged brawny shoulders, his arms crossed over his
chest. "Dr. Klein said it's newer -- *ow*! Shut it off!" He
reached for the watch with one hand and his ear with the other,
but Clark had already found the button to stop the sound.

"Sorry," Clark said, remembering how it had hurt when Jimmy set
it off. Kinda the way his hand did after he burned it on the
biscuit pan this morning. "At least I know it'll get your
attention."

Superman rubbed his ears. "You bet."

"Did you catch sight of Mr. Mixed-up-whatever-his-name-is?"
Lois asked.

"No. Lots of wishes answered. Mostly kids who -- who wished they
lived somewhere else."

She noticed how depressed he looked and placed her hand on his
crossed arm. "Long night?"

Superman looked down at her hand; unwillingly, his gaze lifted to
meet Clark's as they both remembered the video tape of her
touching him that way during the Lois/Superman tabloid scandal.
Superman cleared his throat. "Yeah. But he was always gone by
the time I got there..."

Clark frowned. "We'll have to think of some other way to get
hold of him."

"You could always try bowing down to worship Lord Mxyzptlk. I'm
sure that'd catch my attention," a deep, booming voice broke
in.

***

PART TWO: ALL MXYED UP

The three jerked around -- to face the grinning imp from the
fifth dimension.

Mr. Mxyzptlk floated in the middle of the living room on a
massive, golden throne, dressed in shining white garments, long
white hair like the picture of God on the Sistine Chapel ceiling
surrounding his rubbery face.

"I never knew doing good was so much fun," he continued.

Lois blinked. "Doing *good*?"

"Yes, of course. Granting wishes, answering prayers, giving
people their hearts' desire." He turned to Superman. "I
finally see why you're such a do-gooder." The imp crossed his
arms and assumed a dignified posture. "I'm waiting,,,"

"Waiting?" Clark asked.

"For your thanks. I *did* give you the dearest wish of your
heart."

"What?!" Lois spluttered, then faded into silence as Clark sent
her a warning look.

"Yeah, you did," Clark said slowly. "I wanted to be normal,
and you gave me that."

Lois drew a breath to protest and subsided again at his
cautioning glance, and Mxyzptlk puffed out his chest and nodded.

"So, thank you, Mr. Mixy -- umm -- Mixit -- umm -- Mixed
Pickle?"

"Mxyzptlk!!" the imp stormed.

Clark frowned. "Then what's that other name of yours? Kill-tip
something?"

"Kltpzyx -- " He clapped both hands over his mouth, his eyes
wide with horror. Then his eyes narrowed. "That wasn't very
nice," he said in a tightly controlled voice, and he snapped his
fingers and vanished.

Clark slumped with disappointment, and Lois let out a long sigh
and grabbed his arm. "Oh, God, it almost worked!" she
exclaimed.

"Yeah, but now he knows we'll try to stop him," he said.

Superman nodded. "What about next time?"

"We need to plan how to get him to say his name backwards,"
Clark said.

"Do you think there'll be a next time?" Lois asked.

"I think so. He seems ... playful, and I think he'll get bored
after a while and come back to us." Clark smiled faintly. "If
only for the sport of frustrating our attempts to send him
back."

"I hope so," Superman said gravely.

***

Mr. Mxyzptlk perched on the edge of a cloud above Metropolis and
glumly watched the people passing far below him. It hadn't
worked. Granting Superman's wish hadn't made him grateful. That
party- pooping, two-faced Clark Kent had almost tricked him into
saying his name backwards, and then it would have been bzzt --
back to the boring fifth dimension.

For a moment, he sadly contemplated the failure of his beautiful
plan. Then another thought struck him and he perked up, his
mobile face changing in an instant from sorrow to delight. Okay,
so that interfering Kryptonian was going to try to spoil his fun,
but the only thing the third-dimensional creature could do was
try to make him say his name backwards. And that would be awfully
hard to do if they never saw each other.

Mxyzptlk giggled. He'd be god of this world *despite* Superman.

***

Jimmy sat at his desk, morosely sorting through the pictures he
had shot two days ago that didn't get used in the paper. His
date last night with Lynda had been a disaster. First, one of the
waitresses had tripped when she was bringing a pitcher of water
to the table, and she and most of the ice had landed in his lap.
She had apologized repeatedly and brought a couple of towels so
they could dry off.

He had tried to laugh it off, but Lynda wasn't amused -- not
when half the water in the pitcher had drenched her new silk
blouse. Even after she blotted off most of the water, she kept
fussing about water stains instead of carrying on a conversation.
Unfortunately, the second waitress had been carrying salads for
another table. Most of it ended up on his shirt -- and he didn't
really like the smell of blue cheese dressing. What was worse,
the rest landed on Lynda's skirt.

Geez, Jimmy thought. He hadn't known a girl that small could
shriek that loudly. And, yeah, it *was* a French-type dressing,
and the orangey stain looked pretty bad on her white skirt, but
c'mon! You'd've thought she was being mugged or something.

The manager had come out to apologize in person, and he told them
there would be no charge for their dinners. But Lynda wasn't
satisfied. She demanded that the restaurant pay for cleaning her
skirt and blouse. Mortified, Jimmy had wanted to slide under the
table.

After all that, he could hardly eat when the waiter brought their
food, and he minced his steak and pushed the pieces around his
plate until Lynda was finished. Throwing down the money to cover
both dinners and a tip, he made his escape, only to be held up at
the door by a heavily pregnant woman who stumbled and fell into
his arms. It was the cap to a perfect evening.

He glanced up as Lois and Clark exited the elevator and shared a
brief kiss before she headed for Perry's office. He shook his
head. Just looking at them made him miss Penny, and for the
dozenth time, he wondered what he could have done to keep her
from leaving.

Jimmy picked up the photos again, this time noticing that he had
gotten one of Superman and Clark together. By chance, he'd
caught them in profile, facing each other across Clark's desk.
How odd. He couldn't remember having seen another picture like
that. Even in the photos he'd taken at the two press conferences
where they'd shown up together, the two men hadn't been right
next to each other. He tilted the photo to the light, studying
it. Funny how much alike they looked. Had anyone asked, he'd've
said Superman was taller and broader, but in this picture ... He
picked up a magnifying glass.

***

Lois poked her head out of Perry's office and, pitching her
voice to carry across the news room, called, "Staff meeting in
fifteen minutes!"

"Hey, Lois, look at this," Jimmy said, hurrying over to her,
holding out the picture of Clark and Superman.

She turned to look at him, and the sudden change in her
expression reminded him of someone reaching too late to grab a
cup of coffee before it spilled on a stack of papers. Hands held
out in front of her, she started backing up. "No, Jimmy, don't
-- " she managed before she abruptly stopped moving backwards
and pitched forward.

The picture fluttered to the floor as Jimmy found his arms full
of a soft, good-smelling, but very irritated temporary
editor-in-chief. At her scowl, he started babbling. "Lois, are
you okay? Boy, it's a good thing I was here. You're like the
tenth woman I've caught in the past two days. Here, let me give
you a hand up."

Lois slid out of his arms to sit on the floor. "I'm fine,
Jimmy. At least, I will be when you go back to your desk."

"You will -- ? My desk? But, what -- ?" He looked puzzled and
apologetic, and she felt like she was kicking a puppy. They were
also drawing the interested stares of the entire news room, and a
blush heated her cheeks.

He was still hovering, and she waved him away. "Jimmy, you've
got to back up. I'm not sure how far -- maybe ten feet -- and
then I can get up and tell you."

Reluctantly, he stepped back, and Lois held her hand up to Clark,
who had joined them when he saw her fall. Even without super
powers, he was a big, strong man, and he easily raised her to her
feet.

"Thanks," she muttered, as Clark said, "Jimmy, you remember
your wish the day before yesterday?"

The younger man frowned, then blushed as his friend began, "You
wanted women to -- "

"CK!" he protested, looking around to see who was listening.
"Yeah, yeah, I remember."

Clark lowered his voice. "Jimmy, someone granted your wish --
literally. Instead of women falling in love with you ..."

"... they're falling at my feet? CK, that's crazy! How could
anyone grant a wish like that?" Jimmy stepped toward them, and
Lois hastily backed up. "Oh, relax, Lois," he said. "No one's
fallen on me twice." He bent down and picked up the picture of
Superman and Clark, then held it out to Lois --

-- and promptly dropped it as she tumbled into his arms again.

She heaved an exasperated sigh. "Jimmy, let me down." Once she
was seated on the floor, she continued, "Give me the picture."
And when he handed it to her, she ordered, "Now, go *away.*"

He didn't wait to be told twice, but scurried back to his desk
and out of Lois's sight.

She glared at Clark, who was trying to hide a smile as he reached
down to help her to her feet. "Don't say anything," she warned
him, trying to turn around and see if she had gotten the back of
her skirt dirty.

He pantomimed an innocent 'who, me?' and impersonally brushed
the dust off her skirt. "There you are."

Lois took a deep breath and finally noticed the sympathy lurking
in his laughing eyes. She rested her hand on his arm. "Thank
you," she said softly and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

Clark bent down to meet her lips -- and jerked back as a Southern
voice rumbled, "Hey, hey, hey, you two! This isn't the Niagara
Falls overlook."

"Or poolside at a honeymoon resort," Clark breathed as Lois
exclaimed, "Perry! What're you doing back?"

***

"I don't know, Ralph," Lois said from her position at the head
of the table. "Accusing the D.A. of going easy on his
investigation of police improprieties is pretty serious.
Newsworthy, but serious. What evidence d'you have?"

Perry sat in the corner of the conference room, letting Lois run
the staff meeting while he caught up on what had gone on in his
absence. His absence ... that was a joke, Clark thought, but not
one that boded well for a reconciliation with Alice. When he
arrived, Perry had said he missed being at The Planet, so he and
Alice had just stayed the night and then returned to Metropolis.
He had gotten a second chance at his marriage, but he seemed
intent on throwing it away.

Clark shook his head slightly. He couldn't understand Perry's
attitude. He lifted his gaze to his wife -- brilliant,
courageous, fiery, determined to make the world a better place.
Without Lois in his life, Clark wasn't sure he would have the
heart to keep trying to make a difference, and he again resolved
to do whatever it took to keep their marriage healthy.

Lois's voice pierced his abstraction. "Clark, what're you
working on?"

"City council budget controversy," he said. "And I'm
following up on those supernatural incidents Superman's been
handling."

"Okay." She tapped her pen against her notebook. "I need an
op-ed piece from you about that, too." At his surprised look,
she added, "We'll talk about it later."

***

Superman thrust both fists forward, tearing through the thin
upper atmosphere above the Atlantic after a trip to Portugal to
help victims of the flooding in that country. He had saved scores
of people trapped by the turbulent flood waters and evacuated
hundreds of people who lived below a failing dam. A distant
memory came to him: "Every time I save a life ... I know two
things. Why I'm here, and how I can make a difference."

In rescuing those people, he had made a difference and once again
demonstrated why he was here. He should be feeling cheerful -- or
at least fulfilled.

Except he wasn't.

The people he saved had cried out their thanks; terrified
children clung to him; parents sobbed with joy as he returned
their children to their arms; farmers thanked him fervently when
he rescued their livestock -- and livelihoods. He had smiled and
given and accepted hugs, and all the while, he had felt removed,
as if his feelings were cocooned in the same thick cotton wool
that seemed to surround his brain.

Ice crystals sheeted off Superman as he arced down toward
Metropolis. Maybe he was just depressed. The Lois-sized ache in
his heart was enough to depress anyone. He tried to swallow past
the ball of kryptonite lodged in his throat. Maybe helping other
people would start feeling good again once he got used to living
without her.

***

Clark stared at his monitor, trying to imagine how to warn people
about the danger of careless wishes -- without letting them know
that *any* wish could be granted. After a dozen starts, he was no
closer to a publishable essay than when he'd first sat down, and
he was tempted to tell Lois to write her own damned op-ed piece.

From the street outside, he heard the wail of a fire engine, and
he had shoved his chair back and risen to his feet before he
remembered that he couldn't do anything to help. Clark slowly
sank back into his chair.

This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? No more dropping whatever
he was doing to fly off, no more interrupted meals, no more
evening plans ruined by a call for Superman. And it wasn't as if
Metropolis had been left without her customary guardian angel.
Superman was probably already on the scene and everything was
under control.

So why did he feel so empty and depressed?

An errant memory intruded: him stuffing his mouth with another
big bite of his mom's peach cobbler and wishing that he could
eat it for every meal. And his mom laughing and warning him to be
careful what he wished for -- because he might get it. And he got
her point when she served him peach cobbler -- and only peach
cobbler -- at every meal for the next two days. It was weeks
before he could look at a peach again.

Be careful what you wish for,,, Something else stirred in his
memory, and he tilted back in his chair, eyes closed, waiting for
the thought to surface. A cautionary tale ... 'The Monkey's
Paw.'

That was it. Clark slammed his chair forward, his hands moving to
the keyboard, words spilling from his mind to the screen as fast
as he could type them. "Cars flying out of control over the
Hobbs River, a flesh-eating dinosaur hunting on the downtown
streets, a building vanishing and leaving the occupants to fall
several stories to the ground ... All these supernatural
occurrences had one common thread: someone had casually wished
for each one. Oh, not in the form that the answer took. Kids who
wish to see a dinosaur aren't thinking about becoming a meal for
a hungry T. Rex, any more than commuters caught in a traffic jam
really want to play "chicken" in the sky with other
out-of-control cars. If there is some entity granting wishes in
Metropolis, it seems to make sure that every wish rebounds
against the wisher, turning an idle desire into a nightmare,,,"

He typed rapidly, fleshing out the op-ed piece, then going back
to smooth out the writing. Fifteen minutes later, Clark read it
over and, satisfied, LAN'd it to Lois. He tilted back in his
chair for a moment, savoring the pleasure of having written well.
Around him, the news room hummed with activity: reporters on the
phones, interviewing sources, typing their stories -- and he
smiled. Maybe most people wouldn't understand how exhilarating
it was to come up with the right idea and have the words pour out
so quickly and easily, but at The Planet, he was surrounded by
other writers who knew exactly how he felt. It was a good place
to be. He tipped his chair forward and got back to work on his
story on the city budget controversy -- and this time, he didn't
have to work to put the sound of emergency sirens out of his
mind. He didn't even notice them.

***

"Hey, Ralph, you headed out to lunch?" Jimmy asked.

Ralph stopped at the foot of the ramp. "Yeah. Why?"

Jimmy held out a five dollar bill. "Could you pick up my
sandwich at the deli? They're holding it."

"Around the corner? Sure. Perry got an assignment for you or
something?"

"Or something," Jimmy said. He couldn't risk going out where a
lot of women were -- not if Clark was right. "Thanks, Ralph,"
he called as the reporter headed up the ramp.

He wandered back toward his desk and picked up a note from Clark
requesting copies of the city budget for the last three years.
His stomach rumbled, and he hoped Ralph hurried.

***

"So you're off the hook now?" Clark asked as he and Lois
strolled around the corner to get some lunch at the nearby deli.

"Uh-huh. Perry's going to edit the stories I assigned -- *and,*
I suspect, put together a different front page than the one I was
envisioning."

They caught the light at the corner and crossed the crowded
street. "Does that bother you?"

Her expression was self-mocking, and she looked up from where she
was digging through her purse. "A little," she admitted. "No
matter what I tell myself, I can't help feeling that it means my
choices weren't any good. Blast!"

"What?"

"Oh, I can't find the notes for my interview with Colonel Gohr
this afternoon." She started back toward The Planet and Clark
fell into step beside her. She stopped him. "No, honey, could
you go ahead and place our orders while I run back and get my
notebook? Otherwise, I'm not going to have time to eat before
that interview, and I refuse to skip lunch *again* this week."

He shrugged. "Sure. Chicken salad on whole wheat with a dill
pickle and a diet cream soda, right?"

Lois stretched up to kiss him. "I knew there was a reason I love
you."

He grinned as she wiped the lipstick off his mouth. "I'll be
right back," she added, turning to look at the light and rushing
onto the crosswalk.

***

The driver of the sleek, black Viper drummed his fingers
impatiently against the steering wheel. "C'mon, c'mon," he
muttered, glowering at the red traffic light and checking his
watch for the third time. He punched a speed dial code into his
car phone. "Turn green, dammit."

***

From his perch atop The Daily Planet globe, Mr. Mxyzptlk watched
Lois Lane hurrying into the middle of the street just as the
Viper's driver ordered the light to change. "Close enough,"
the imp snickered. "Your desire is granted, my child," he
boomed, and the lights went green in every direction.

The familiar voice stopped Lois in her tracks, and she cast a
quick glance around. A small figure with a purple tunic and
bowler sat on top of The Daily Planet globe, waving to attract
her attention, then grinned and vanished as she started toward
him.

At the high-pitched squeal of tires, Clark jerked around. Lois
was standing in the middle of the street as a black sports car
leaped toward her, the driver looking to one side, a cell phone
at his ear.

<Oh, God!> Clark started running, cursing his human-slow reflexes
and fumbling for the button on the signal watch Superman had
given him. "*Lois*!" he yelled.

***

Superman angled toward The Planet when that annoying hypersonic
dog- whistle went off, but at Clark's panicked cry, he hurtled
across the cityscape like a missile, the acrid taste of fear
flooding his mouth. Focusing his vision on the source of the
hypersonic signal, he saw the scene in the street as if the
action had been frozen, Lois's mouth agape as she saw the car
bearing down on her.

<Please,> he prayed, straining for the speed that turned him into
a blur of red and blue.

***

Lois turned at the sound of Clark's voice -- and caught a
glimpse of the car accelerating toward her. She drew her breath
to scream, "Help! Superman!" when she was struck with a force
that took her breath away- -

-- and abruptly found herself a thousand feet above the city,
clutched tightly in Superman's arms.

He buried his face against her hair, and his big body shook.
"Oh, God, Lois," he groaned. "I almost didn't make it."

She drew a long, shuddering breath, tears pricking her eyelids.
"You came ... you came," she whispered.

"If I'd lost you ..." He hugged her to him, one arm cradling
her back, the other hand cupping the back of her head.

Her arms slipped around his neck. "I'm right here."

"Lois." He ducked his head and blindly sought her mouth,
starving for the taste of her.

Locked in his arms, kissing him as they drifted through the sky
... The situation was too familiar for her to hesitate now, and
she responded eagerly. She knew his touch, his taste, the way he
kissed ... and that extra something in him that called to her
irresistibly. No fake, no clone, no double from an alternate
universe: this was her husband as much as --

<Oh, God.> Lois eased back. This was absolutely impossible. She
was kissing her husband -- and fighting back the sick feeling
that she was cheating on her husband by doing so.

Superman murmured an inarticulate protest when she broke their
kiss, but he lowered his head and nuzzled the side of her neck.
"I've missed you so much," he murmured.

Each of them -- Clark and Superman -- felt like the other half of
herself, and she could no more ignore the aching need in his
voice than she could make her heart stop beating. "Oh, Cl -- "
she began -- and caught herself, tightening her arms around him.
"Sweetheart, we can't do this."

He stiffened and, looking away, tried to pull back from her
clinging arms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have -- "

"Not *that.*" Too late, Lois realized what her statement
sounded like. "I meant this split thing. We've got to get it
solved."

He still looked unconvinced. "I'm not apologizing for kissing
my husband," she told him firmly, "because that's what you
are."

Pain-filled brown eyes raised to meet her gaze. "Am I?" he
asked simply.

"What? Of course you are -- " she began.

Superman shook his head. "I don't think so. I think ... I think
I'm just ... a badly made double. Or something." At her frown,
he shook his head in frustration. "I'm not ... saying this
right. I can't find the right words any more." He lowered his
voice to a whisper, as if he were confessing something shameful.
"And I -- I can't think of how to do things, either,,,"

"Things?"

He struggled to explain. "Like the T. Rex. I picked it up so it
wouldn't hurt anyone, but then ... but then, I didn't know what
to do ... except keep holding it. But ... the real Superman knows
what to do with things like that."

Lois clenched her teeth together, trying to stop the rush of
tears to her eyes. He sounded so lost and ashamed, as if it were
somehow his fault that his mind didn't work the way it used to,
as if that meant he had no right to ask for reassurance or
comfort. She cupped her hands on either side of his face and
forced him to look at her. "Listen to me," she said. "You are
the real Superman -- "

He started to turn away, unwilling to listen to her lie to him.
"I'm not a baby. You don't have to make things up to make me
feel better."

"I'm not." The words came out as a choked cry, tears
roughening her voice. "Ask Clark. I already told him."

"Told him? What?"

"That both of you are the real thing. That somehow that Mix-it
thing split you into two people -- you, with the super powers,
and Clark, with the -- " she stumbled and made a desperate
recovery -- "the writing skills and -- and the creativity." How
would she ever convince him there was nothing shameful in lacking
a high intelligence if she was embarrassed even to say it?

His attention was focused on fitting her explanation into what he
had been experiencing, but he tilted his head questioningly.
"The brains?" he asked.

"Well ... yeah, sort of. I mean, Clark isn't a weakling or
anything. He's just not super-strong. Like you're not a gifted
writer or ... or ... extra intelligent any more. But that
doesn't mean you're stupid, either."

Superman smiled faintly, humorlessly. "That isn't what it feels
like. Not from this end. I can remember being ... different.
Knowing things. Figuring things out. And this feels ..." He
waved one hand, trying to find a better word and finally settled
for, "Stupid."

What could she say when she was sure she would feel the same in
his place? "Intelligence isn't the only measure of a man's
worth," she managed. "It isn't even the most important."

Superman slipped one arm behind her legs and the other behind her
back, moving her to their normal "carry" position. "Maybe
not," he agreed, "but it matters to you." And having silenced
her with that simple, if unpalatable truth, he angled down toward
The Planet, where Clark was waiting for her.

***

"Oh, chief!" Jimmy called as Perry returned from a meeting with
the "suits" upstairs.

"Not now, Jimmy," he growled and kept walking toward his
office.

Once, Jimmy would have accepted that and held onto the message,
but he knew this was something Perry would want to hear, and he
hurried up the ramp and fell in step beside his boss. "Alice
called to remind you to pick her up at 7:30 for the concert."

Perry stopped. "Concert? Judas Priest! I forgot all about that!
Did you say seven-thirty?" At Jimmy's nod, he dug into his
pocket and handed him a set of keys. "Run by my place, son, and
pick up that monkey suit of mine. I'll have to leave from here
if I'm gonna get this paper to bed before I go." He marched
into his office, where half a dozen people awaited him, each
convinced that their urgent problem could only be solved by the
editor.

Jimmy stared at the keys in his hand, trying to decide whether
this was a step back to the days of being Mr. Fix-it or a
demonstration of how much the chief trusted him. He turned back
to the elevator. Oh, well, at least if he was in his car, women
wouldn't be falling at his feet.

***

Clark shaded his eyes as he watched Superman lightly descend with
Lois in his arms. The superhero touched down and set her on her
feet with grave courtesy.

"Thank you," she said, and he nodded and bent his knees to
spring skyward when Clark said, "Wait!"

Superman looked back, puzzled.

"Take me with you," Clark continued. "Please."

Two identical pairs of brown eyes met and studied the other.
"All right," Superman said, holding out his hand.

Clark clasped his wrist and forearm, and the two men drifted
skyward. From below, Lois held her hand up to her eyes and
watched them until they were out of sight.

***

Content to go wherever his double led, Clark watched the city
pass beneath him, felt the wind in his face, and once again joyed
in the exquisite sensation of flying. "Thank you," he said at
last and, at the other's questioning glance, added, "for this
... and for answering my signal quickly enough to save her."
There was only one "her" in either man's life.

"I was afraid I was going to be too late," Superman admitted.
He looked at Clark for a moment, then turned away, shamefaced.
"And I was so ... happy ... she was safe."

The writing between those lines was pretty clear. "So you kissed
her." Clark made it a statement, and when Superman nodded, he
continued, "Where did you sleep last night?"

Superman shrugged, but when Clark kept waiting, he added, "You
know, where I ... we ... went when Luthor had her."

<God.> He had sat on that ledge overlooking the city during one
of the darkest times of his life: Lois had been kidnapped from
their wedding by Luthor, and he couldn't find her anywhere.
"Why didn't you come home?"

Superman shook his head. "I did. But you were ... with her."

Clark stared at him, appalled, and he went on, "I may not be as
smart as you are, but I still love her. And I can't stay there
and -- and listen to the two of you together."

Mired in his own jealous anguish, it had never occurred to him
that Superman was hurting, too. Clark had the grace to be
ashamed. "Come home tonight," he said. "I'll sleep on the
couch, and you can have the guest room."

When Superman hesitated, he added, "Please. It isn't fair that
you don't have anywhere to go."

Superman nodded slowly, and Clark said, "I don't know how we
decided this, anyway."

"What?"

"That I would be staying with Lois and you would be ... nowhere.
Maybe because the marriage license says Lois Lane and Clark Kent,
not Superman."

"I guess."

Clark looked at Superman for a long time. "Come early," he
said. "We need to plan how to trick that imp so we can get
things back to normal. Not just for our sakes, but for hers, too.
We can't protect her well enough this way."

***

From a safe distance, Mr. Mxyzptlk watched Superman rescue Lois.
Not that that boy scout could do anything to him, but the
lunkhead's repeated attempts to capture him could distract him
from important business -- like granting more wishes. Watching
the delivery trucks pull out from The Daily Planet, the imp
snapped his fingers, and a copy of the paper appeared in his
hands. Perhaps Lane and Kent had written something about him.
Perhaps they had even bowed to the inevitable and were
proclaiming the good news about his return to Earth.

He paged through the paper. Of course, that last wish wasn't
exactly the sort of thing to make any of them feel kindly toward
a potential ruler from the fifth dimension. But it *had* been
amusing to see the look on her face when that car started racing
toward her.

Opinions and editorials, he read. Kent had an article there, and
Mxyzptlk perused it quickly. By the time he was halfway through
the piece, smoke was pouring out his ears, and his flame-colored
curls looked like real flames framing his face. He ripped the
paper in half and turned it into a miniature fireball, vengefully
watching the pages disintegrate until even the ash had vanished.
Warn the world not to make wishes, would they? Maybe it was time
he stopped being anonymous and let the world know who its
benefactor really was.

He stood up and lifted his arms to disappear -- when the purple
sleeves of his tunic caught his eye. <Too playful for God,> he
decided. Mxyzptlk swept his arms down, his garments changing back
to the black velvet and lace suit he had favored during his
previous visit. <Much better. Elegant, yet subdued.> And in a
dusting of golden sparkles, he vanished.

***

"Jimmy!" Perry's gravelly roar brought the young
photographer/researcher/aide de camp running to his office.

"Yes, chief. You bellowed?"

Perry pointed a finger at the young man. "Don't get smart, kid.
What'd you do with that -- "

" -- monkey suit? On your coat rack." As Perry swiveled around
in his chair, Jimmy continued, "With shirt, shoes, tie,
cummerbund, and your cufflinks."

A broad smile slowly spread across the editor's face. "Good
job, Jimmy. Nice to know I can trust someone to take care of the
details."

Jimmy hesitated. That was the opening he'd been waiting for --
if he could just get his nerve up to take advantage of it. "Just
part of the job, chief, for any good researcher ... or
reporter."

Perry took a breath to continue -- and stopped as the young
man's words sank in. But before he could respond, a sudden
clamor of irritated and puzzled voices in the news room drew them
both out of the office.

"What the -- ?"

"Okay, who's mucking with the channels?"

"Hey, I was watching LNN!"

"Who's that weird little guy?"

"It's on every channel!"

Perry waded through the circle of staff members around the
nearest TV, Jimmy bobbing along in his wake. Unfortunately, not
every woman in the group had already been exposed to Jimmy's
wish, and he lost his place when a woman tumbled into his arms.
<Oh, man,> he sighed. He had barely helped her to her feet and
started after Perry again when another one plopped into his arms.
Blushing, an embarrassed grin plastered across his face, he set
her on her feet and plowed forward determinedly, let the chicks
fall where they may. He finally stopped behind Perry, close
enough to see and hear the TV.

" -- the rash of recent miraculous events. I -- " the man on
the screen with the rather piratical beard and hair style placed
one hand on his chest and bowed slightly " -- am responsible for
granting those wishes. If I may introduce myself, I am Mr.
Mxyzptlk, lately of the fifth dimension." He bowed again, and
Jimmy took his eyes off the man's face long enough to notice the
colorful, swirling vortex in the background. After watching for a
few seconds, he felt his eyes crossing, and he shook his head and
yanked his attention back to the man, who was speaking again.
"Despite the speculation that you may have read from certain
reporters, I am here to freely grant wishes to anyone who asks
me."

Lois and Clark exited the elevator at that moment and saw
everyone gathered around the TV screens. They exchanged a swift,
questioning glance and hurried to join their co-workers.

"Yes," Mxyzptlk continued, "you heard right. I will grant your
every wish, however large or small it may be."

"And plunge the world into total chaos," Lois muttered over the
sudden buzz of excited voices.

Clark gave her hand a quick squeeze, and pitched his voice to
carry over the increasingly loud discussions. "Freely? What does
he get out of it?"

His comment stopped the people around him, and they took up his
question. "Yeah, what does *he* get out of it?" several people
repeated until the happy, excited hum had changed to an agitated,
challenging rumble.

As if he had been expecting such a question, Mxyzptlk announced,
"And in exchange, I ask nothing from you but gratitude and
respect."

At that, the disquieted tone of the voices in the news room
escalated into a delighted roar. Lois turned to Clark and buried
her face against his shoulder. "They don't get it," she
murmured.

His arms tightened around her, and he dipped his head lower to
hear her over the blare of dozens of voices exclaiming in
excitement and chattering about what they intended to wish for.
"What was that, honey?" he asked, speaking as loudly as if he
were trying to get her attention across the room.

She shook her head and spoke a little lower than a shout.
"It'll be madness. C'mon. Let's find out what Perry wants us
to do. Then we can go home and figure out how to stop this."

***

Superman didn't have to have access to a television to know that
the people of Metropolis had just realized they could have
anything they wanted, just by wishing for it. Several dozen kids
floated skyward as Mxyzptlk answered their wish to fly like
Superman. All over the freeways below, cheap or old or practical
cars suddenly morphed into high-powered sports cars or big luxury
cars or four-wheel-drive vehicles, and bumpers on the suddenly
larger vehicles crunched into each other in the stalled rush-hour
traffic. Superman had to ignore minor disruptions like that
because across town, several houses had sprouted legs and begun
walking toward the ocean-front, heedless of the cars and
pedestrians in the way.

He rocketed toward the first of the houses, buzzing around it
like an angry hornet. This was the same sort of problem that the
T. Rex had posed: he could lift it easily enough so the people in
its path were safe, but then, what would he do with it? And if he
evacuated the residents and tossed the walking house into orbit,
where would those people live? Frustrated by his inability to
come up with a workable solution, Superman knocked on the front
door and walked in.

An elderly man sat in the living room, clutching the arms of his
chair with gnarled, white-knuckled hands as the furniture slid
back and forth with each monstrous step. "What did you wish
for?" Superman asked.

The man didn't pretend ignorance. "A v-v-view of the ocean,"
he stuttered.

"Can you wish it back?"

"I-I tried that. It doesn't work."

Superman was tempted to swear. Whether Mxyzptlk was only granting
one wish per person or just leaving before anyone could make a
second wish, people were stuck with his skewed interpretation of
their desire. But that didn't help get these blindly walking
behemoths out of the city.

Zipping out of the house, Superman flew under it and, bracing it
on one shoulder, picked it up. Carrying the unwieldy building
above the houses and streets in its path, he made for an empty
stretch of beach as quickly as he could. As he set the house down
on its magical feet, the building hunkered down, rocking back and
forth as it settled onto the sand. He poked his head in the front
door to confirm that the frightened homeowner was okay, then took
off after the next wandering house.

***

The Planet was putting out a special edition on Mxyzptlk since
Lois and Clark were the only reporters who had actually spoken
with the imp. Lois was writing that story while Clark was doing
"man-in-the- street" interviews to get ordinary people's
reactions to what was happening. In the meantime, Perry was
unexpectedly short-handed as he tried to get the rest of the
paper together. After Mxyzptlk's announcement on TV, Ralph had
expressed his desire to be in Hawaii, but Celine from Travel had
assured him that Bali was a better choice. Everyone within
earshot agreed; a voice boomed, "Your desire is granted, my
children," and half the news room disappeared on an unscheduled
vacation.

And now Perry was trying to get a paper out with only half the
people he needed. 'Course, he told himself, they'd be lucky if
anybody was even around to buy a special edition, but that
didn't absolve The Planet of its responsibility to keep the
public informed. <Eternal vigilance and all that.> He ignored his
premonition of disaster and concentrated on the job at hand.

***

Clark clicked the send button and forwarded his story to Perry,
then stretched and looked over at Lois's desk. His wife was
frowning at her monitor, a pencil gripped in her teeth as she
typed an explosive burst on her keyboard. She stopped and,
without removing her gaze from the screen, took the pencil from
her mouth and tapped the eraser end against her desk, her mouth
pursed in thought. Tucking the pencil into her hair above one
ear, she rested her fingers on the keys, stared blankly in front
of her for a few seconds, and began typing again.

Amused by his wife's familiar gestures, Clark leaned back in his
chair, one hand covering his smile as he watched her finish her
story. She made a couple of corrections, then sent the story to
Perry and turned to look at Clark. "Done?" she asked.

"As soon as Perry okays it. You want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure." Lois picked up her cup and walked to the coffee pot
with him. Sipping her coffee, she suddenly noticed that he had
poured his coffee from the decaf pot and was stirring non-fat
creamer and artificial sweetener into his cup. "Since when did
you switch to fat-free, sugar-free decaf?"

His smile was a little crooked. "Since caffeine started keeping
me awake." He sipped it gingerly.

She laid her hand on his other arm. "It's been hard, hasn't
it?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand her. "Yeah. I've been -- "
he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, then
lowered his voice -- "invulnerable ... to bumps and cuts for as
long as I can remember. I never learned *how* to be careful."

"Like this morning when you tried to take the biscuits out of
the oven without a mitt -- "

" -- and burned my hand," he said ruefully, flexing his
fingers. He glanced back at her and smiled. "Good thing I only
use that thumb for the space bar."

Lifting his hand to her mouth, Lois uncurled his fingers and
brushed her lips over the blister on his palm. His eyes darkened,
and he set down his coffee cup and reached for the back of her
head with his other hand.

"Hey, CK!"

Clark jerked around as Jimmy continued, "Where's Lo -- "

At that instant, she stumbled toward Jimmy, her coffee splashing
onto his shirt.

" -- is," he finished, dismayed by his coffee-soaked shirt and
the exasperated reporter in his arms. "Uh-oh."

Lois sighed and handed her empty cup to Clark before she settled
onto the floor. "Why were you looking for me, Jimmy?"

"Oh, I -- uh -- "

Clark handed him several napkins, and Jimmy accepted them
gratefully, pressing them against his shirt as he backed away
from Lois. "Um, the chief says your stories are ay-okay, so you
guys can go." He took a few more steps back, then hurried down
the stairs toward his desk.

Lois held up her hand and let Clark lift her to her feet. "I
don't get it," she said. "How come I'm the only one who keeps
falling at Jimmy's feet again and again?"

***

Perry stepped out of his office and waved Jimmy in. The young man
entered, still blotting coffee off his shirt with a fistful of
napkins. Distracted, Perry asked, "Jimmy, what in the name of
Elvis happened to you?"

Jimmy grimaced. "I didn't see Lois standing behind Clark, and
... I got too close. Again." He threw the wet napkins in the
trashcan. "Chief, I don't get it. All the other women just fall
on me once. But Lois trips into me every time I get near her."

"You're sure this is because of that wish you made?"

"Yeah, I think so. Clark seems pretty sure, anyway."

Well, son, maybe Lois likes you more than you thought -- " Perry
broke off at the look of enlightenment that spread over Jimmy's
face.

"Not me. *Superman.*"

"Superman? What does he have to do with it?"

"I wished that women would fall for me like they fell for
Superman." His delight at finding an answer faded as he
recognized its implications. "Chief, you don't think ... ?"

"Now, Jimmy, don't go borrowin' trouble. Lois was
head-over-heels for Superman for a couple a years before she and
Clark got together. She never did fall for him the same way other
women did."

Jimmy thought about it, then nodded, a smile returning to his
face. "Yeah, sure, that makes sense." He started back to the
door and stopped. "Oh, did you want me for something?"

***

While waiting at a traffic light in their Jeep, Lois dug into her
purse and pulled out a photo which she handed to Clark. "What's
this for?" he asked.

"Something Jimmy was trying to show me ... this morning." She
shook her head. "It seems longer ago than that." She started
the Jeep forward when the light changed, but she risked a quick
glance at her husband. "What d'you think?"

He shrugged. "Nice evidence that Clark Kent *isn't*
Superman."

"Except ... with all the composite pictures in the National
Whisper, people wouldn't necessarily believe it."

Clark looked at the picture again, this time noticing how clearly
it showed his and Superman's profiles -- and how identical they
were. "I see," he said.

She nodded. "Jimmy won't be a problem because he saw both of
you at The Planet, but no one else better see this picture."

"Yeah. If they haven't noticed how much alike Superman and
Clark Kent look, this'd do it. Should I tear it up?"

A little smile curved the corners of her mouth, and she shook her
head. "I want to keep it."

***

Perry was studying his computer monitor where the layout of the
special edition was displayed while he spoke on the phone with
Arlene's assistant in Layout. Arlene, who would have understood
what he wanted before he even told her, was, unfortunately, part
of the group vacationing in Bali, courtesy of Mxyzptlk. When
Jimmy poked his head in the door, the harassed editor waved him
away, but he put his fist to the side of his face with thumb and
little finger extended like a phone receiver. He held up two
fingers on the other hand and mouthed, "Alice."

<Oh, no,> Perry groaned. "Dimitri, I'll get back to you," he
said and took a deep breath before he pressed the button for line
two. "Alice, honey, let me explain," he began, but she cut him
off furiously, and he was only able to insert the odd word here
or there. "No, I didn't realize what time -- ... Aw, honey,
don't -- ... We've got a crisis down h -- ... Now, that's not
true ... Not *every* day ..."

He listened for a while, feeling guilty about spoiling her
evening plans yet again, but struggling with anger because doing
his job was even an issue. "No, I can't leave yet," he managed
to say, "so how 'bout you call the box office and make sure the
concert's still on -- ... What? ... Oh, it's that crisis I told
you about,,, Never mind. If it's still on, go without me, and
I'll join you when I'm done,,, I'm sorry, honey. I'll see you
later." But he was already talking on a dead line. For a moment,
staring at the phone, he looked old and tired, and his eyes
drooped more than ever. "Oh, Alice," he whispered.

Then he took a deep breath and, straightening his shoulders,
called Dimitri in Layout.

***

"I don't think something like the card will work again," Clark
said. He sat in the corner of the couch, his arm resting along
the back of it. The lightweight knit sweater he wore followed the
contours of his hard-muscled shoulders and chest.

Lois paced back and forth in front of the couch. She had changed
into a snug-fitting long-sleeved top and corduroy jeans. "He'll
be expecting us to try something like that again."

"He'll be expecting something if he sees us at all."

She stopped in front of him. "Are you saying that we can't send
him back?"

"No." He reached for her hand and drew her to stand between his
knees. "I'm saying that we can't spring whatever trap we set
without scaring him off."

A whooshing sound interrupted them, heralding Superman's
arrival, and Clark turned to greet his double. "Hi," he said.
"Come on in. We're trying to decide how to trap Mxyzptlk."

Smiling, Lois held out her free hand to him, inviting him to join
them. Superman stepped forward and took her hand, his long
fingers closing around hers. He bent to kiss her cheek, then sat
in the other corner of the couch, draping his cape over the back
of the sofa. "Have you thought of anything?" he asked.

Her smile faded, and she sat down between the two men. "Just
that we can't spring the trap -- whatever it's going to be --
without scaring him off."

Superman frowned, thinking hard. "What about me? He -- he won't
think I could trick him -- and he knows my superpowers don't
work against him." He clearly remembered grabbing Mxyzptlk at
super speed and finding himself gripping a bouquet of flowers
instead.

Clark raised his eyebrows in surprise at the suggestion and sent
Lois a questioning glance. She thought for a minute, then shook
her head. "That may be true, but if you're there, he'll
suspect something's up. And if he's on guard, nothing will
work."

Exasperated, she flopped against the back of the couch. Both men
instinctively reached out to put a comforting arm around her
shoulders, and when their hands bumped, they froze, gazes locked.
Without a word, they drew back, and Superman rested a hand on her
shoulder while Clark clasped her hand, interlacing his fingers
with hers.

Clark cleared his throat. "Since he's come out in the open,
maybe we can use that to get to him."

Superman nodded. "Chasing him doesn't work."

Lois was staring ahead of her, frowning, so the men continued
their discussion across her head. "We'll have to lure him to us
-- or to our trap, anyway," Clark continued.

"With what?"

"Something that appeals to his ego. I mean, he wants to be
*God,* which isn't exactly an ambition for the shy and
retiring."

Superman smiled at that. It had been hard for him to accept the
adulation that came with putting on the tights and cape, and that
was part of what he found so exhausting now. Except for brief
moments like this, he had no escape from the constant attention,
from people's certainty that he could solve whatever problem
faced him. The needs that he could never turn his back on, the
cries for help he couldn't ignore ... without some time away, he
was burning out, exhausting his emotional resources. Superman
didn't think of it in those terms now, but he felt the weight of
that responsibility on his shoulders and a bone-deep weariness
that persisted despite the breaks he took to sleep or to soar in
the re-energizing sunlight. "So he wants attention, right?"

"Yeah," Clark agreed. "He wants to walk down the street and
see Mxyzptlk souvenirs. His face on everyone's T-shirt -- "

" -- people buying and selling him on street corners," Superman
quoted, and the two men shared a look of distaste.

"That's it!" Lois exclaimed, flinging herself to her feet. She
paced back and forth in front of the couch. "We'll need a
street vendor with T-shirts and -- and hats, maybe. And a big
mirror. And some other customers, and a couple of little kids."
She turned back to the men, who were staring at her in
bemusement, and she laughed and sat down between them again. "I
have an idea how to get him to say his name backwards."

***

Jimmy poked his head into Perry's office again. "Alice on line
one, chief."

Perry nodded and asked Levi, the head of Distribution, to hold
the line for just a moment. He pressed the button for line one
and said, "Alice? What'd you find out?"

"You were right, Perry. The concert was canceled."

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can trade in our tickets and go
tomorrow night."

She sounded tired. "I don't know. Maybe,,, Could you come by
this evening -- when you get the paper out? I need to talk to
you."

"Why, sure, honey. It may be another couple a hours, but I'll
drop by if that's what you want."

"It is," she said. "Bye, Perry."

As he hung up, Perry couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't
going to enjoy this talk, but he shrugged it off and punched the
line where Levi was still waiting. "Now, what's this about not
having any drivers?" the editor demanded.

***

Superman stayed just long enough to find out what his part of the
plan entailed, then he took off in response to yet another
emergency call. Lois curled up in the curve of Clark's arm and
rested her head on his shoulder. "Well?" she asked. "What do
you think?"

His arm tightened around her shoulders as he brushed a kiss
across her forehead. "I sure hope it works. I just want to get
back to normal."

"Normal never sounded so good." She brushed a stray lock of
hair back from his face, and her hand slid tenderly down his
cheek. "Normal for us, anyway." And she leaned toward him and
kissed his mouth.

"Mmmm," Clark sighed. He pulled her onto his lap, one hand
sliding into her hair to hold her head against his kiss while the
other one slipped down her back. His tongue touched her lips each
time his mouth closed over hers, and her soft sounds of welcome
drove him to take their kiss deeper.

A big truck rumbled past the townhouse, siren wailing, horn
blaring at each intersection. Clark drew back, cocking his head
and frowning. "What is it?" Lois asked breathlessly.

Belatedly, he realized that he couldn't do anything about the
emergency ... and Superman was already on duty. He looked down at
Lois, her eyes sultry and dark, her lips soft and kiss-reddened,
and he smiled slowly. His hand slid back into her hair, and he
bent down to trace his mouth along the curve of her throat.
"Nothin'," he said against her soft skin. "Nothin' at
all."

***

The next morning, Mxyzptlk sat atop the Lex Corp building,
imitating the pose of "The Thinker." However, his appearance
lacked the seriousness of the original: he wore a purple tunic
over his skinny frame with a purple bowler perched on his head
above curly tufts of hair, red gold in the early morning
sunlight. His right ear ballooned out from his head like a
trumpet as he listened for any sounds of praise or gratitude for
the many wishes he had granted during the past day. Only silence
-- or complaints -- answered him.

Puzzled and unhappy, the imp tried to think of what he had done
wrong. These humans were quick to make wishes and usually
demanded more than one at a time. But when he gave them what they
wished for, instead of being pleased and thanking him, they
grumbled and complained. <Children,> he thought. <They're just a
pack of children.>

But ... that wasn't true. Children were the only ones who seemed
happy to have their wishes granted. Even if they didn't actually
say, "Thank you, Mr. Mxyzptlk," their squeals of delight were
the reaction he had expected. He straightened up. That was it: he
would find some more children and grant their wishes. And maybe
this time someone would actually thank him.

He turned around slowly, peering over the city in search of a
group of children. A schoolyard, perhaps, if it wasn't too
early. Downtown, bright colors, balloons, and music caught his
attention, and he turned his semaphore ear toward the commotion.

"We love you, Mi-ix-y, oh yes, we do-oo,,, Mix-yez-pi-it-lick,
we love you," drifted up to him, and his heart (or what passed
for one in the three-dimensional shape he had donned) swelled in
his chest. <At last!> And he vanished in a puff of golden
sparkles.

***

From the hotel window, looking through the binoculars, Lois could
see the small crowd going through the street vendor's selection.
T-shirts and sweat-shirts had Mxyzptlk's piratical face
imprinted on them, while the vendor's assistant was working
furiously to turn out additional shirts with clever palindromes
and Mxyzptlk's name. The customers all seemed happy and excited,
like fans discovering an unexpected cache of souvenirs for their
favorite star.

She lowered the binoculars and turned back to her companions.
"Remind me to do something special for Jimmy. He did a terrific
job turning that screen capture into an iron-on transfer."

Superman nodded, his expression lightening at her comment as his
telescopic vision focused on the carnival-like activity down the
street. Clark was too tense to smile, and, frustrated by his
inability to see what was happening, he held out his hand for the
binoculars. "I hope this works."

"Me, too," Superman echoed.

Clark glanced back at Lois. "Mark knows what to say, right?"

Lois squeezed his shoulder. "Relax, Clark. It's a simple
question, and his mom rehearsed it with him."

***

Mxyzptlk appeared in the center of a noisy crowd. Somewhere
nearby, a cassette player was blaring the song that had caught
his attention: "We love you Mi-ix-y, oh yes, we do-oo ..."
Above his stand, the street vendor displayed a large sign with
the imp's likeness and the words, "Thank you, Mxyzptlk!" and
all his stock seemed to be Mxyzptlk souvenirs.

Entranced, the fifth dimensional visitor went from one rack to
another, pulling out sweatshirts and grinning at his face ironed
across the front, picking up baseball caps with his name stamped
above the bill, and pawing through stacks of T-shirts with
sayings like, "Mxyzptlk. It doesn't get any better," and "If
you made more than three wishes since last night, you might be a
Mxyzptlk groupie," and "Mxyzptlk is life. The rest is just
details."

This was more like it. He moved around to another table, and his
beaming face changed to a frown. Picking up a neon-orange
T-shirt, he marched over to the counter, where the vendor's
assistant was putting transfers on more T-shirts with the
commercial iron. Mxyzptlk banged on the counter to get her
attention. She looked up from the iron, counting seconds. When
she raised it up and pulled out another finished shirt, she
asked, "Whatcha need?"

"You made a mistake," he announced. "You put some of the
letters on backwards." And he held up the shirt.

She shook her head, a thick brown braid swinging across her back,
and shoved her wad of gum into her cheek. "Nope. S'pposed ta be
that way." She folded the shirt and reached for another blank
T-shirt.

Mxyzptlk considered that; then he froze the iron in place when
she tried to press it down on another transfer. "Hey, what's
goin' on?" she asked.

"I want to know *why* the letters are put on backwards."

The assistant tried again to press the iron down, and when it
didn't work, she turned to him and, exasperated, said, "You're
s'pposed ta read it in the mirror. Reads the same either way.
You know. 'Madam, I'm Adam'?" At his puzzled expression, she
shook her head and told him, "Put one on and look in the
mirror." The girl gestured vaguely toward the mirror at the end
of the counter and turned back to her stubborn iron.

With a wave of his hand, Mxyzptlk magically donned the T-shirt
and enlarged the small mirror into a huge, free-standing mirror
with an ornately carved wooden frame. Behind him, a little boy
watched, wide- eyed, as the imp studied his reflection. "Go
ahead, Mark," the woman standing beside the boy whispered,
giving him a gentle push. The child glanced up at her and, at her
nod, wandered up to the magical being and asked, "Mister, what
does that say?"

<Mister.> Of course. These young humans were the ones who were
quickest to appreciate him. Eager to show off before his admiring
audience, Mxyzptlk quickly read the palindrome, which now
appeared with every letter facing forward, "MA IS AS SELFLESS AS
I AM. KLTPZYXM."

As the words echoed in his ears, he realized what had happened,
but fifth dimensional magic began dragging him into the
interdimensional vortex. "No!" he howled. "Not this time!"
Golden sparkles swirled around him, growing brighter as his image
became fainter. "Superman! I'll get you!" he cried, and with a
loud "pop!" he vanished, his T- shirt shooting into the air and
falling unnoticed on the street.

***

All over the city, the effects of Mxyzptlk's magic reversed
themselves.

On the freeways of Metropolis, morning rush-hour was thrown into
utter chaos as sports cars, luxury cars, and four-wheel-drive
vehicles shuddered to a stop and popped back into the old or
rundown or practical cars they had been the day before.

On the beach, half a dozen houses squatting on the sand vanished
and reappeared on their original foundations.

At S.T.A.R. Labs, a dinosaur tied up in the parking lot
disappeared in a puff of sparkles, leaving behind a pile of
knotted cable and two extremely disappointed paleontologists.

***

At The Daily Planet, Jimmy Olsen slipped into the lobby from the
revolving door, and bumped against a tall blonde. "Sorry," he
said automatically, his arms coming out to catch her -- but she
didn't fall.

She turned around, and he took in the wide blue eyes, the short
nose, the full-lipped mouth,,, "Penny!"

"Hi, Jimmy."

"Wh-what are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I don't have to be at work for another hour. Can I buy you a
cup of coffee?"

***

Upstairs in the news room, The Planet employees who had gathered
around the coffee pot were startled by the sudden reappearance of
a dozen co-workers. Sun-burned and chattering, the newcomers
froze as they realized where they were.

Perry raised an eyebrow, and Ralph looked down at his bare chest,
his pants rolled up to the knee, sand still clinging to his bare
toes. "Ummm, maybe I should go home and change," the reporter
said and shuffled toward the elevator.

***

The sparkles and Mxyzptlk's howl of protest reached the tense
on- lookers in the hotel room down the street. "He's gone!"
Lois cried. "We did it!" She swung back from the window to hug
her companions -- and stopped at the blazing light surrounding
them.

"Oh, God," she whispered, pressing her balled fists to her
mouth, blinking against the brilliant ball of light. The
miniature sun flared up, covering the two men completely. Then it
seemed to grow smaller, dimmer, and when it disappeared, only one
figure remained. "Clark?" she asked hesitantly.

He looked down his body, feeling the easy power in the muscles
under his t-shirt and jeans. He tuned into -- then blocked out --
a conversation from the next room, and when he "looked" through
the wall, he saw a maid pushing her cart down the hallway. He
turned back to Lois, smiling. "Both of us."

She cast herself into his arms. "Sweetheart," she gasped before
she began pressing kisses onto his face.

Clark grinned and tightened his arms around her, turning round
and round, spiraling upward until his head nearly bumped the
ceiling. "Oh, honey, it feels so good to be *me* again!" And he
bent down and kissed her.

***

Lois and Clark lingered in the elevator, kissing even after the
door opened and only reluctantly stepping into the news room.
Still holding hands, they strolled toward their desks, where
Jimmy intercepted them.

"Hey, Lois, CK, I'm cured!" He patted Lois on the shoulder.
"See? No more women falling for me."

Lois rolled her eyes and looked through her in-basket, while
Clark noticed Jimmy's cheerful whistling and the happy way he
circled them before heading toward his desk. "Except one,
right?" Clark guessed.

A broad grin split Jimmy's face, and he pointed the papers in
his hand at Clark. "CK, did anyone ever tell you you should be
an investigative reporter?" He started whistling again and spun
back toward his own desk.

Clark grinned and turned back to his wife. With her head bent
down a bit as she studied a barely legible message, the bare nape
of her neck was exposed, and he gave in to the urge to plant a
kiss there.

"Hey, hey," a gruff voice interrupted. "This is a news room,
not a Valentine's Day celebration at the Trojan Honeymoon
Hideaway."

Lois tipped her head back and smiled at Clark, who shrugged and
grinned back. "Sounds like a fun place to visit," he
whispered.

She took a deep breath and turned around, her dark eyes flashing.
"Set up the reservations," she challenged him, one finger
running down the length of his tie and ending at his waistband.

His gaze lifted to hers in time to see her slowly moisten her
parted lips with the tip of her tongue. "I'll call 'em
today," he promised.

She smiled again, then called over her shoulder, "What did you
have for us, Perry?"

"In here." He gestured toward his office with his head. When
they were standing at his desk, he continued, "Am I right in
guessin' that you two were workin' with Superman to get rid of
that Mix-yet guy ... and that he's gone now?"

Lois nodded. "Superman assures us that all Mix-yeh-spit-lick's
magic disappeared with him, too, so everything should be getting
back to normal."

"All right. Then get me the story on what happened. Mr. Stern
wants an editorial about how nothin' good comes of people
wantin' somethin' for nothin', and I'll need a news piece to
hang it on." He walked around his desk and saw them still
standing there. "What're you doin'? Get after it."

Lois headed for her desk, but Clark lingered at the door.
"Chief," he began hesitantly, "is everything okay?"

For a minute, Perry looked like he was going to chew Clark out;
then he reconsidered and said, "Alice and I had a talk last
night. She ... uh ... wants me to decide what my priorities are
... because she doesn't want to be in second or third place."

Clark tried to picture Lois accepting second or third place in
his life, but it was impossible for him even to imagine
relegating her to that position. In a blinding flash, he realized
that that was why she was willing to accept the other demands on
his time: she knew beyond any doubt that she was first in his
heart and mind.

But Perry,,, He loved the paper as passionately as most men loved
their wives or children. No wonder Alice felt like she was taking
second place to a demanding mistress.

"If you love someone," Clark began slowly, looking at the floor
as he tried to find the right words, "I think you have to love
them with your whole heart ... and not try to split that love
with someone or something else ... or neither one'll be happy."
He glanced up and smiled faintly. "I think this is one case
where half a loaf is worse than none at all."

Perry stared at his folded hands, and after a moment, Clark
excused himself and went back to his desk. Behind him, a man
whose lifeblood was the newspaper business looked at his two
fondest dreams and began to realize that he might not be able to
have both.

***

On the patio that evening, Clark raised his arm to the back of
their new loveseat to let Lois snuggle in beside him. She
shivered, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders.
"Cold?" He ran his hand up and down her arm.

"A little," she admitted.

Clark directed a gentle burst of heat vision at her, and she
arched against the welcome warmth, a sigh of pleasure rumbling in
her throat. "Better?" he asked.

"Mmmm, yes." Lois sighed and relaxed against him. He had taken
off his suitcoat and tie, and with his glasses on the table
beside him, he looked like a combination of Superman and Clark
Kent -- that face he showed only to her and his parents. "It's
been a crazy three days -- almost like going back in time."

"What?"

She laughed. "Oh, not for you, but for me ... back when I used
to think Clark Kent, the farm boy from Kansas, and Superman, the
oh-so- romantic superhero, were two different people. Of course,
Mixulplick mixed that up -- " she grinned at her own pun -- "by
splitting up the brains, too, but still ..." She tipped her head
back and studied his expression. "Are you okay with this?"

He was slow to answer, and Lois straightened up. "Clark?"

"I'm okay." He stared into her dark eyes. "It's just ...
something I hadn't realized before."

As Lois waited, Clark took a deep breath and continued. "After I
was ... split ... into Clark and Superman, I -- Clark -- " He
shook his head. "This is really hard to explain ... I have both
sets of memories because both of them were *me.*" He let out his
breath in a gusty sigh. "*Clark* was jealous of Superman ..."

"Over me?" At his nod, she continued, "Why? I mean, I was
treating Clark like he was my husband and Superman was just a
friend."

"I know. But ... Lois, Superman was a lot more like who I'd
been before the split than Clark was."

"What?"

"*Clark* was me without the powers, and ... as far as he knew,
Superman was me with them. He -- Clark, I mean -- felt ...
disabled."

She frowned. "But you've been without your powers before, and
you didn't feel that way,,, Did you?"

He shook his head. "But I didn't have Superman flying around,
being the me I'd always been,,, It was the comparison, I
think."

"But Superman wasn't himself, either."

He smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know." His gaze became unfocused.
"That was ... hard."

His expression reflected the pain of those memories, and Lois
rested her hand on his shoulder, offering the comfort of her
presence. "Is that what you realized? That you needed to be
smart *and* strong to be Superman?"

Clark shook off the memory of helpless frustration. "That isn't
..." He braced his forearms on his knees while he stared at his
flexing hands. "I don't know if you can understand this, but
... ever since I created Superman, I've thought of him as a ...
disguise. Just a suit and some super powers to hide the real
person, Clark. Me." He glanced over his shoulder at her and
smiled faintly. "But that isn't true. The Clark I show to the
world, the one I tried to get you to fall in love with, the
normal guy who can get hurt and is never around when there's
trouble ... is a disguise, too. Something I pretend to be.
What's made me the man I am, the things I've done -- or not
done -- " she smiled to herself at that reminder that he had
been a virgin when they married -- "are because I *am* an alien
with super powers. Who grew up on a farm in Kansas. Neither of
'em is more real than the other."

"Of course. So what're you trying to say?" she asked.

"Maybe you already knew that. But I didn't. I thought of myself
as a normal guy. Clark. And when we first met ... I used to get
mad at you for being in love with -- with a fancy costume and
some super powers ... and ignoring the *real* me. Except you
weren't,,, So that kinda answers a question I'd had about the
soul-mates thing."

Her perplexed expression cleared, and she nodded. "How we could
be soul mates if it took me *years* to fall in love with you?
Yeah, I've asked myself that one once or twice."

Clark sat back and put his arm around her again. "But it isn't
true. Superman is as much the real me as the -- the public Clark
is, and you fell for him as fast as I fell for you." He pulled
her onto his lap, nuzzling the side of her face and ear as he
murmured, "So we *were* destined to be together."

Lois smiled and tilted her head to one side, arching the side of
her neck toward his mouth. She wasn't sure that she bought his
whole argument. Clark, after all, *did* tend to think in
black-and-white, either-or terms. But he was right about one
thing: he kept his real self hidden from everyone except her --
and his parents. "So you don't -- um -- want to -- oh, Clark,
that is *so* ... um, want to be a regular guy any more?"

He grinned against her neck, enjoying the fact he could break her
concentration, but delighting in her ability to stay on track
anyway. "I never was one before, so why should I start now?"

That brought her head around in surprise. Clark had denied his
extraordinary nature for so long that she had despaired of his
ever admitting it to himself, even though he had seemed more
comfortable with the idea since their marriage.

He misread her surprise and added, "Well, it was nice not having
to dash off all the time. But when people were in trouble, it
really ... hurt ... to have to sit by because I couldn't help
them."

Lois nodded. "Not being able to do what you were born to do."

His flickering smile let her know he remembered Ultra Woman
telling him that. "Yeah, but Superman couldn't help 24 hours a
day, either. He was burning out. He couldn't escape from his
public face. And he didn't have someone to go to who was strong
enough to support *him.*" Clark lifted her hands to his mouth
and kissed them. "I love you, Lois Lane," he said, looking into
her eyes and speaking as solemnly as if they were exchanging
their wedding vows again. "And I need you every minute of every
day."

"Oh, Clark," she whispered. "I love you, too." Love and
gratitude threatened to overwhelm her, bringing tears to her
eyes, and her smile twisted a little. "So, no more obsessing
about not being able to help everyone."

"Mmmm-hmmm," he agreed, planting small kisses down her jaw.

"And -- and no more obsessing about not spending enough time
with me."

"Mmmm." This time, his murmur sounded undecided ... a definite
'maybe I'll think about it.'

Well, she could live with his obsessing over that. "And no
patrolling tonight until after I celebrate having my husband back
in one piece."

Clark nearly choked on a spurt of laughter and rose to his feet,
cradling her easily in his arms. "Absolutely!"

Lois flung her arms around his neck and closed her eyes as their
furnishings flashed dizzyingly past her. All was right in the
world. Mxyzptlk was in his own dimension, and her Superman was
back where he belonged, at peace with himself, in her arms.

THE END