Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Wrong Clark (204/???)

Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

A/N: As I didn't like how today's part sounded during my prep-review earlier this week, I rewrote / edited a large portion of it this morning. So, I apologize if there were more typos and grammatical mistakes than usual. They are all on my head.

Where we left Lois and Clark in Part 203…

Lois took Clark's hands in hers and said, “I love that you love me. Thank you.”

“Did I miss something?” His eyes searched hers.

Lois guffawed and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Chuck. Never change. You’re priceless just the way you are.”

“I’m not Superman’s best friend,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“I know you’re not, Chuck,” she replied, pulling him closer. “Just do me a favor and stop asking women out without informing me.”

He kissed her lips. “How was I supposed to know she’d get the wrong idea?”

Lois grinned. “That’s what I love about you. You just don’t know, do you? It’s simple, Clark. Wishful thinking.”

“Oh.” Clark thought about that. “What?” He shook his head. “Lois, I never…”

She took hold of his hand. “I know.”

He eyed her warily. “You’re not mad?”

“About that?” she scoffed. “No.” She poked his chest. “I’m mad that you purposely didn’t tell me.”

“Never again,” he promised, and this time she believed him.


Part 204

***************
Egos Bruise Easily
***************

As they sat in the cab returning them to the Daily Planet, Clark came to the conclusion that ‘someday’ had finally arrived. He needed to tell Lois the truth… or as close to the truth as he dared to get. Enough to make her understand the risks of going forward with a relationship with him, but not enough that she would leave him forever. She deserved that much.

Actually, Lois deserved more. She deserved much better than him, his provisional truths, and his apparent naiveté when it came to women, but Clark was afraid that if he handled this wrongly – phrased the truth badly – he would lose her completely. Historically, given his lack of luck in this department, that outcome was likely anyway, but he wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. He knew there were far worse men out in the world than him and with Lois’s track record for being a scum magnet… well, Clark feared she would end up with someone who would hurt her more than he could and he would be unable to intercede. At least, Clark’s intensions were honorable and his love sound, even if his execution was not. Internally, he winced at that word choice.

Baby steps.

He understood Lois’s anger at his not mentioning having a lunch appointment with another woman despite it being, in his opinion, a business luncheon. Although, he still didn’t understand how Mayson had thought he had asked her out on a date.

Clark reviewed the words he had used the week before when he had bumped into Mayson at the courthouse. Knowing that the Southside neighborhood where Mike’s Café Americana was located had declined in recent months, Clark had suggested that they have lunch together. He thought that if Mayson could see the neighborhood’s deterioration with her own eyes and talk with Lois’s uncle about the lack of police presence, perhaps she could nudge the D.A.’s office into action. Clark had said that he would meet her at the courthouse so that they could travel to the restaurant together. He would have used the same words had Mayson been a man. Although, he probably wouldn’t have recommended that they travel together. Had that been why Mayson was confused?

In his old dimension, Clark hadn’t been an active dater, having been in a relationship with Lana for so long and then not interested in anyone other than Lois after Lana left him. He didn’t know all the ins and outs and, shamefully, all the lingo and code words one used in dating. In this dimension, he had only been interested in Lois and hadn’t tried to date anyone else. Early on, he would have been over-the-moon had Lois ever confused any of his invitations to eat together as a romantic date, yet she never had. Actually, Lois had gone out of her way to clarify that every meal be counted as a working lunch or dinner, and not a date.

Frankly, he was a little surprised Mayson had been interested. The only women who seemed attracted to Clark Kent, after Lana had left him, had been Superman groupies. True, when he had arrived in this dimension, Cat Grant had flirted with him, but she flirted with… well, used to flirt with… most men with a pulse. Linda King had hinted that she wanted to be more than just colleagues too, but he had always chalked that up to her rivalry with Lois.

Was it wrong to feel flattered by Mayson’s misunderstanding? He wasn’t interested in being more than friends with the Assistant D.A., but knowing that someone else had wanted him – Clark Kent him – was quite the ego boost.

Since Lois hadn’t jumped to the wrong conclusion that he had invited Mayson out on a date, Clark took it to mean that Lois had trusted enough in his love to know that he didn’t want to date anyone else. He felt doubly guilty for not being more honest with her. That, and after Lois had ambushed him over the weekend with her proposal that they move in together, he felt that he owed it to her to know why they couldn’t move their relationship physically forward. Not yet, at least.

He wiped the momentary silly grin that came to his face at the thought of moving past just kissing Lois. Just having those thoughts while she sat next to him, while they were out in public, was somewhat embarrassing. Not that Lois could read his mind — Thank God! – but she was very good at reading his face. He glanced over to see if she had noticed, but she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts.

Clark knew that they couldn’t have an intimate relationship while the curse was still active, but that didn’t stop him from visualizing what could happen once they were cured. If she knew what his active imagination had had them doing in his dreams, he would never be able to look Lois in the eye again. Well, not in public.

To himself at least, Clark wouldn't describe their private kisses as chaste. He still feared to do anything else that would progress their physical relationship and not only because of the curse. Unfortunately, not all of his dreams were fantasies. Some turned into nightmares, but he tried not to dwell on those. Sure, sometimes, Lois died in his arms at the end of their lovemaking and Clark would jolt awake in a cold sweat, trying to find enough air to fill his lungs. Sometimes, she moaned out Luthor’s name instead of Clark’s. Sometimes, Lois rejected him completely or said something along the lines of how she wished he were more like Luthor in some way. Clark knew that Lois loved him and only him, but occasionally those old doubts would raise their ugly heads. Usually it happened after a particularly trying Superman rescue or an argument with his partner. Fortunately, those nightmares were happening less and less, especially since Lois had returned from space and they spent more time together.

When Clark had returned from Las Vegas, merely touching the skin under Lois’s shirt had brought up unpleasant memories from his time in Luthor’s Kryptonite cage. Though months had passed since both those events, Clark hadn’t wanted to chance re-enacting the scenario. When they kissed, Clark allowed himself to hold Lois, but didn’t allow his hands to wander.

Lois must have noticed, despite the fact that she hadn’t said anything. That she hadn’t brought the subject up directly, Clark believed meant that she was giving him the time he requested to heal from his ordeal. Thankfully, she hadn’t put any pressure on him until she had invited him to share her bed by rubbing her bedspread the other night. Clearly, he couldn’t put off this discussion any longer without her starting to think he was even more of a naïve idiot than she must already think he was.

“I need to tell you something,” they both said at the same time, and then laughed.

“You go first,” he offered politely. His conversation was best held in private, anyway. He eyed the cab driver through the glass warily.

Lois smiled. The joy didn’t reach her eyes, and Clark felt his stomach lurch in dread.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been nominated for a Kerth Award.”

Clark stared at her dumbfounded. Maybe she had been more offended by that whole Mayson mess than she had let on. “Very funny, Lois.”

“I’m serious,” she replied. “Perry announced it after you ran out this morning.”

The lack of her pleasure still didn’t make sense to him. She should be hovering out of her seat with excitement. “Really?” he said, unable to keep the delight from his voice. “Which of our stories was nominated?”

“Your retirement home story. The one you wrote last summer before we became partners,” she clarified.

“Oh, wow! That's... wow!” He had never been nominated for a Kerth Award before. He had worked hard on that story and it thrilled him to know that he was being recognized for a story that had nothing whatsoever to do with Superman.

Lois had her hands folded together in her lap and she was staring at her fingers as she rubbed her thumb. Her knuckles were turning white.

He could have slapped his forehead in his stupidity. “Which of your stories is it up against?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together before whispering, “None of them.”

Clark couldn’t have heard her correctly. “You weren’t nominated?” That couldn’t be right. “But… but… you’re twice the writer I am.”

Lois leapt onto his praise with enthusiasm. “Aren’t I? What’s the matter with the Kerth Committee this year? All my stories, even the ones we worked on together, are better than some lame, boring…”

He crossed his arms, leaning back. Oh, lame, was it? Boring, eh? So much for her undying support and love.

She glanced over at him and must have noticed his annoyance. “I mean, congratulations,” she said weakly, clearly not meaning it.

“Gee, thanks, Lois,” he said dryly. “Your support means so much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said flatly, taking his words as if she were deaf to sarcasm. “So, do you think Jimmy will fly in for the ceremony?”

Clark stared at her.

“You did say last year,” she went on, “— that should you ever be nominated for a Kerth Award that he would be your number one choice for a companion at the ceremony. Although, we both agreed that I would look better in a dress. I had been eyeing a new gown for when I was nominated, but now it doesn’t matter what I wear. I’ll probably be sitting on my sofa, eating chocolate chunk ice cream, and relaxing in my sweats that night. I haven’t caught up on ‘Ivory Tower’ in so long that would be a good time for me to watch it marathon style, anyway. If Jimmy can’t come, I’m sure Jimbo would love the honor of being your guest.”

“You look amazing in sweats,” Clark said softly. “But I’d love to see you in that new dress. If you buy it, I’ll be sure to swing by after the banquet to see it on you.”

Lois slapped his arm with the back of her hand. “Ha-ha.”

“I’d much rather share the evening with you, but since you clearly don’t want to go, maybe Mayson would be inter…”

“Mayson!” she growled. “You wouldn’t dare… Oh, I guess she’d be okay. If you want someone to hang off your arm, laugh at all your jokes, fade into the background at the right moment, and worship the ground that you walk upon.”

“After today’s lunch, I doubt that she would,” he replied. Clearly, Lois hadn’t realized he was teasing her.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you. I always do for some reason,” Lois retorted. “And after the Kerth Committee snubbed me, I’m considering a boycott.”

His heart sank. She seriously didn’t want to go. “Oh.” Suddenly, the joy and excitement of finally being nominated for a Kerth Award deflated from his heart. He could always go stag.

Lois slapped his arm again. “We’re here. Pay the driver, will ya?” she said, stepping out of the cab.

Clark dragged his feet into the Daily Planet building. In all honestly, he’d rather be flying.

She waited for him at the elevator. “Shake a leg,” she called, holding the door.

He didn’t say anything on the ride up. What could he say? Evidently, she had already made up her mind.

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?” she asked, rocking on her heels as if annoyed that pacing the elevator wouldn’t get her to their floor any faster. He understood completely, which was why he usually took the stairs.

“It can wait,” he murmured.

Lois exploded out of the car as soon as the doors opened. She lived for the news. Breathed it. Usually, so did he. Normally, her excitement was contagious and awe-inspiring. Not today.

Perry exited out of his office just as they came down the stairs. “Lois and Clark, good. You’re back. There’s been a robbery at Metropolis Bank. Get down there and check it out,” he said.

“Come on, Clark. News waits for no man!” Lois said, spinning back towards the elevators.

Clark sighed.

“Did Lois tell you the good news?” Perry asked.

“Yes,” Clark replied flatly. “I’m thrilled.”

“CLARK!” Lois screamed by the elevators.

Perry patted his arm. “There’s a tuxedo shop next door to the bank,” he said, before motioning Lois to return with his finger. “A word, Lane. You can meet Kent down there.” He waved Clark off.

“What?” Lois growled. “I’m already at the elevator. Talk to me later, Chief. Come on, Clark. Put a little oomph in your step.”

“I’ll take the stairs, Lois,” Clark said, not in the mood to share another confined space with her.

“Lane!” Perry roared.

“I can’t hear you,” Lois called as the elevator doors closed.

***

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Lois marched into the bullpen. Clark had stayed behind at the bank because he wanted to stop by the tux store. Did he have to rub it in that he was nominated and she wasn’t? She told him she’d see him back at the office. She had no idea what was up with him. He was acting as if she was the one who had made lunch plans with another man for lunch and didn’t tell him.

“Lane!” Perry called.

“I’ve got to type…”

“Office! NOW,” he bellowed.

Lois dropped her briefcase off at her desk and entered Perry’s office.

“Shut the door.”

She closed the door behind her. “What’s up, Chief? I’ve got to start working on the robbery piece.”

“Where’s Kent?” Perry asked, sitting back down at his desk.

She rolled her eyes. “Trying to convince the bank manager to give him a copy of the security tape. Why?” Her eyes stopped rolling and focused intently on her boss. Was Clark the Chief’s ‘Star reporter’ now?

Perry motioned to the chair opposite his desk. She sat down. “What did you tell Kent about his nomination?” he asked.

Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. “That he had been nominated for the retirement home series.”

Perry stared at her. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it,” she replied.

“Then why did he act as if his folks had just died when I asked him about it?” he probed.

“How in the hell should I know? He seemed all excited about it in the cab back from lunch,” Lois snapped, and then she pointed at him. “By the way, his folks died long ago. He’s an orphan and he’s touchy about it. So, I wouldn’t say stuff like that around him.”

“What about that couple in Kansas?” he said.

Lois gave him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ expression. Her boss knew as well as she did that Clark didn’t hail originally from Kansas.

Perry wiped the words out of the air, saying, “Never mind” before pointing at her. “Even though it wasn’t you who was singled out, Lois, it’s still an honor for the Daily Planet. We’re a team. When one of us is nominated, we all are.”

“I know,” she said, trying to keep the snide annoyance out of her tone, but betting she failed. “Come on, Perry. You and I both know that they should have nominated me. I wrote circles around Clark this year. Stories far more interesting and impactful than some lame retirement home scandal.”

He leaned back in his chair and tented his fingertips. “And you still don’t know why Kent was upset.”

“No idea,” she scoffed. “Even he said that I’m twice the writer that he is and should have been nominated. Although, in all fairness, that isn’t quite accurate, being that it’s more like five times better than him, but that’s beside the point,” Lois went on.

“Uh-huh.”

“If that’s all,” she said, pointing over her shoulder towards her desk. “I have that story…”

He waved her off. “Oh, and Lois,” he called as she reached the door. She turned to look at him. “Partners support each other.”

“I’m supportive!” she said, wrenching open the door and marching to her desk. “What a waste of time,” she grumbled, opening her briefcase and pulling out her notepad.

“I’ve got it,” Clark said, exiting from the stairwell some ten minutes later, waving a videotape.

“You’ve got what?” Lois asked, meeting him at the conference room door.

“Security footage of the robbery,” he said.

“That’s great, Clark,” she said, and she meant it. Maybe there was something on the video that would replace their bupkis with something else.

***

Clark took a deep breath as they sat in her Jeep Cherokee across from Lenny Stoke’s club, waiting to see if their lead suspect in the Sleepytime Robberies, Derek Camden, made an appearance. Rumor had it that Camden was staying in a room at Stoke’s club. Clark needed to get this argument over as soon as possible. If he never tried, he knew he would end up regretting it. “LoisIwantyoutocometotheKerthAwardsbanquetwithme.”

Lois turned her head and stared at him. “Huh? What?”

He shifted in the passenger seat, so that he was looking directly at her. “I know that you’re hurt that you weren’t nominated for a Kerth Award this year…”

“I’m not hurt,” she snapped. “I was robbed. I covered many of the major stories this year. I was the first one to interview Superman.”

“Last year,” Clark mumbled, under his hand.

“Right, I won for the Messenger fiasco last year,” Lois said, returning her gaze to the front of Stoke’s club. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I keep my awards, all three of them, in the back of my closet. You’re only as good as your next story.”

“That’s not true,” he replied.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows it is. One story does not make a reporter’s career, Clark. At least, not a good journalist,” Lois retorted.

“No, I mean, your awards are hidden behind some false book fronts on your bookcase. I saw them when I was scanning for bugs,” he clarified.

“Well… it’s kind of a closet.”

He let that definition slide. “You shouldn’t hide them. You worked hard for those awards and you should be proud of your accomplishments.”

“I am proud of my accomplishments. I’m just not a boaster or one to rub it in other people’s faces,” Lois replied. She lifted up the photo of Camden as a man walked by the club entrance. “Is that Camden?”

“No,” Clark said.

She set down the photo.

He knew he could easily refute Lois’s statement about not rubbing it in by reminding her of her actions the previous year when the Kerth Committee only nominated her for the story they both had worked on. Additionally, if she didn’t like to boast, then why had she mentioned how many Kerth Awards were gathering dust on her bookshelf? However, those things weren’t why Clark had brought up the topic. He knew Lois felt slighted and she always became defensive when her pride was bruised, but he refused to let her temper-tantrum ruin his big night.

Clark set his hand down on her elbow and slid it down to join her hand. “Why aren’t you happy for me?” he asked softly.

There was a pause of several heartbeats before Lois turned to face him, her eyes sparkling as she reached for his face. “Oh, Chuck. Of course I’m happy for you,” she said, resting her forehead against his. “I’m just…” Her voice faded.

He relaxed into her embrace. “Jealous?”

“No, I’m not jealous!” she retorted. “I’m… worried.”

“Worried?” he echoed. “About what?”

“If I’m losing my edge. I won three Kerth Awards in a row, and now… now… It wasn’t as if I lost this time around. I wasn’t even nominated,” she said.

“You had a hard year.”

She scoffed under her breath, “You can say that again.”

“You were shot. You had a major story stolen by a colleague,” Clark reminded her.

“I was sucked into the black hole of investigations, where I destroyed my newspaper because I got too close to my subject,” she went on.

Clark shrugged at her description. He wouldn’t have put it exactly like that. “Good thing Superman still talks to you or Perry probably wouldn’t have let you in the door.”

Lois brushed his lips with hers. “I know his secret,” she whispered.

“Perry has a secret?” Clark gasped.

She chuckled. “He thinks so, but I meant Superman’s.”

“What’s that?” he murmured, kissing her again.

“Uh-uh. I’m not telling.”

“Oh, come on, Lois. I’m your partner,” Clark whined.

Lois pretended to hem and haw. “Well, okay, but don’t tell anyone.”

Clark gave her the universal ‘who me?’ gesture.

“Superman’s in love with me,” she announced, turning to look at another man walking past the front of the club. She set down Camden’s photo again.

“No!” Clark gaped with faux dismay. Although, he had been tempted to say ‘Who isn’t?’ instead.

“Uh-huh,” Lois said with a nod. “Said so himself. He can’t resist me.”

Clark slid his arms around her waist, pressing his chest to her back as he rested his chin on her shoulder as she continued to look at passers-by. “Me, neither, but tell Superman ‘tough’, because you’re mine.”

“I’m ‘yours’?” she repeated as if she weren’t sure about his word choice.

“Yep, you’re minha, and I’m not sharing,” he said, squeezing her waist. “I saw you first. I’ve got dibs.”

Lois laughed. She reached up and patted the top of Clark’s head. “I’ve got dibs on you, too, Chuck.” She glided her hand down his cheek. “You can tell that to Mayson Drake the next time you see her.”

Clark grabbed her hand to place a kiss on her palm. “Come with me to the Kerth Awards banquet, Lois. It won’t be any fun without you.”

“Well,” she paused. “That’s true. I’ll go, just so the whole event isn’t a total drag for you. I guess you’ve earned that much.”

“And so you can wear your new dress.”

“I haven’t bought it yet,” Lois replied. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll wear something from my closet. This new dress is pretty low-cut.”

“Oh?” Clark’s voice betrayed him by cracking.

“Do you like low-cut?” she asked. Her tone was that fake innocent again.

He didn’t dignify that question with an answer, but he did kiss her cheek.

“Is that him?” she asked, holding up the Camden photo again as a man entered the club.

“No,” Clark replied. “It’s Stoke. Since we can’t find our number one suspect, maybe we should find a way to talk to number two.”

He could feel Lois’s cheeks rise as she smiled. “I’ve got an idea, but you aren’t going to like it.”

“Do I ever?” he asked.

***

Clark looked down at his getup. Nobody in Stoke’s club was going to take him seriously. They were going to fall to the floor and laugh while holding their stomachs. He could not pull off this look.

“I’m not wearing this,” he called to Lois, who was changing in her bedroom. “It’s too tight.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Clark,” she called back and he could hear the laughter in her voice. “He who regularly wears tights thinks this outfit is too tight?”

He amended his argument. “I look ridiculous.”

Lois walked down the hall in her long black raincoat, even though it hadn’t rained in weeks.

“Have you heard something I haven’t?” he teased.

She paid no attention as she stared at him… or rather his chest. Clark shifted uncomfortably. She walked slowly and deliberately over to him, stopping in front of him. She straightened the collar of his leather jacket. Then her fingers skimmed the fabric of his too tight tank top and brushed his bare skin around the low neckline. At least, she didn’t comment on the chains. “Uh-uh.”

“Oh, good, you agree. Can I take this off now?” he asked.

“Hmmm?” she murmured, licking her lips.

“Minha?” Clark took a step backwards. “I’m going to be laughed out of the club.”

“Hmmm?” she repeated, her fingers moved down the front of his shirt to his leather pants. Her focus never strayed from her hand as it worked its way down from his hip.

“Lois.”

“Huh? What?” she said, removing her hand as her gaze jumped up to his. “Did people laugh at you for wearing your Suit?”

“My uniform?… uh… no,” he said, not knowing exactly where she was headed.

“Why didn’t they?” she asked innocently.

Clark straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms into his best Superman stance. “Because he asserts respect.”

“Exactly.” Her gaze moved upwards to his hair. “Do you have any styling gel on you?”

He gave her a ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ expression. Apparently, she wasn’t because she held out her hand. He zipped to the secret spot where he had hid his uniform while in this silly getup and returned milliseconds later.

“Hair gel and a Superman stance aren’t going to help,” Clark said as his mind went to a horrible spot where an imaginary tabloid headline blared ‘Superman Has Fun in Leather.’

She squirted some gel into her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. As she continued to massage his scalp, his eyes drifted shut and his stance relaxed. His nerve endings tingled and sang from her merest touch, tug, or brush of her fingers. He recalled the first time she had touched his hair. It had been during her first visit to his apartment, after she had told him everything was wrong. She had changed his dual curl look to a single. The caress had felt so intimate that he had almost kissed her. Those emotions raced to the surface as she continued to play with his hair. If it wasn’t so important to find out who these men were using sound guns to rob people, he would’ve let her run her fingers through his hair all night.

Clark’s knees weakened and he hid it by kneeling down in front of her, so that she could reach his head easier. Now, his gaze was aimed straight at her chest. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that. Intuitively, his body just knew and tensed in anticipation. It was as if he could sense her body without sight. His mind knew that he shouldn’t touch Lois, but his nerve endings had a will of their own. He wanted to rest his head there, but Lois was still working on his hair. He chose to lay his hands on that spot he loved at the small of her back, instead.

“There!” Lois announced much too soon, letting go of his head. “Do you have any sunglasses?”

He opened his eyes. Sunglasses? At night?

“Aviator ones with reflective lenses would be best.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “I think I can find something like that.” Reluctantly, he rose to his feet.

Lois held up a finger. “Without messing up your hair.”

“Do I want to know?” he asked.

“Tough men with spiky hair who wear leather and sunglasses don’t get bothered,” she explained.

Wanna bet?

Lois’s determined expression said that she was willing to chance it. “Come on, Chuck. How often do you get to go undercover?” she cooed.

“Gee, that’s a toughie,” he answered wryly. “I’ll have to think about it.” Without pausing, he continued, “It isn’t undercover if I attract attention.”

“Says the man who wears a cape,” she retorted, smacking his butt. “Believe me, Chuck, you aren’t going to stand out. Anyway, if you draw attention then I’ll have a better chance to attract Stoke.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, returning to his Superman stance.

“I knew you wouldn’t,” she replied casually, heading into the kitchen to wash the gel off her hands.

He pursed his lips and let his gaze slide down her raincoat as he followed her. “And how exactly do you plan to tempt Mr. Stoke to admit he’s the terrorist?” Her lips were too red and her hair too big for there not to be a provocative outfit hidden underneath her coat.

She shrugged, turning to face him. “I’ve got my methods. If you don’t want to come…”

“I’m coming.” Clark placed a hand on her topmost button. “Do I get a sneak peek?”

Lois slapped his hand away. “No touching the merchan…” She hesitated. “— dise… no.” She appeared to be contemplating something, before saying adamantly, “No.”

“No?” His fingers continued to trace the edge of her topmost button. “I’d hate to be knocked out of character by seeing your outfit at the club.” He slipped the button through its hole.

“Fine,” Lois growled, taking two steps back from him and extending her arms. “Scan me, but be quick about it. No touching.”

Clark pouted. Where was the fun in that? He hated that he wanted to defy her rules, now that there were rules. Him, the ultimate rule follower, too. The one person on this world who had to follow the rules, especially his own guidelines, or someone could get hurt. He reached out a hand towards her but she took another step back.

“If you don’t want to look, we really need to get down to the club…”

“Fine.”

She was right, of course. Looking without touching would be better for both of them. With a determined nod, he jerked his glasses down for a split second. That was long enough to make his leather pants uncomfortable. He shifted his position and adjusted his pants, trying to make them more bearable. They really didn’t give as much as his uniform. He wanted to tell her how much he liked the peek-a-boo red bra, her leather shorty-shorts, and the temporary rose tattoo on her breast, partially hidden by her leather vest, but the words wouldn’t form on his lips. “I’ll go get those sunglasses,” he said briskly instead.

Lois’s smile told Clark that he had lost. “You do that.”

Drat, Clark scowled as he zipped out her window and returned five seconds later with the sunglasses. Couldn’t she let me win every once in a while?

“I really hate this idea,” he grumbled as the image of what Lois was wearing under her coat flashed across the forefront of his mind again.

“Buck up, Chuck. It’s only make believe,” she said, striding out into the hall.

***End of Part 204***

Part 205

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