Metropolis was full of mysteries, but Clark Kent? He was the biggest one.

“Hey, you alright?” Clark's voice was gentle, concerned, as he adjusted his glasses and peered at you. Too concerned.

It wasn’t the first time he’d shown up way too fast, right when you needed him. Earlier today, you’d nearly walked into traffic—your fault for being distracted—and before you could blink, Clark had been there, pulling you back just in time. And that wasn’t even counting the other times. The conveniently-timed rescues. The weirdly specific excuses. The way he always seemed to know when trouble was coming.

“Clark,” you said, squinting at him. “You’re hiding something.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Hiding something?” his laugh was so unconvincing. “Me? I—I don’t hide things.”

You crossed your arms. “Then explain why you disappear every time the Man of Steel shows up.”

Clark's fingers twitched at his tie. “I—I don’t disappear,” he stammered. “I just—have... things to do.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Things.”

“Yes! Things! Work things. Reporter things.” he pushed up his glasses, which only made him look more guilty. “You know, Lois disappears all the time. Are you accusing her of something too?”

You tapped your chin, pretending to think. “Maybe I should. But unlike you, she doesn’t stammer every time I bring it up.”

Clark coughed, suddenly very interested in his shoes.

You weren’t sure what he was hiding. But you would find out.