Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HereWhere we left Lois and Clark at the end of Part 215… at the CostMart Ball.Perry had circled Lois around and Clark finally saw the back to Lois’s dress. Correction. He saw that it didn’t have a back. No, that wasn’t right either. There was a thin swath of sheer fabric joining the shoulder pieces, but from the bottom of her shoulder blades down... down…
Clark swallowed.
Down to that spot where Clark liked to rest his hand was completely uncovered. Actually,
past that spot on her back. Her dress didn’t join until just under her hipbones.
“What?” Mayson asked, turning her head.
Clark realized that he had stopped altogether, not just stopped speaking. He had frozen on the dance floor when he had seen Lois’s naked back. He swirled Mayson around quickly, ending them back to their previous positions, in time to see Perry dip his partner backwards.
Lois laughed.
“I warned you,” Clark heard Perry say, pulling her back up. “I dip often and I dip low.”
Clark cleared his throat and tried to concentrate on Mayson.
It was impossible.
He couldn’t even recall their topic of conversation.
Lois’s back was there, right there, for everyone… for
him to see and to examine at his leisure.
Clark pulled Mayson slightly closer so she wouldn’t notice his attention wasn’t focused on her.
He knew that the woman in the video hadn’t been Lois. He had known it in his heart, but still his mind had wanted proof. Visual proof that he had never found, no matter how many hours he had searched every inch of her living room and every inch of her bare skin in that video. His mind had still wanted to compare the two women side by side.
Sure, he hadn’t seen the scar from Lois’s bullet wound in the video. Still a nagging doubt made him wonder if the video could have been made earlier… the year before when she had been dating Luthor for real and before he had shot her. Clark had pushed that evil thought back into the dark recesses of his mind as rubbish, but it flared again now.
He had almost asked Lois last week when they had ended up sleeping together, if he could massage her back. It was the only way he could think of to see her back uncovered and remove that pesky doubt. Thankfully, he had been able to stop himself from asking such an odd and awkward question.
There. Just off the right side of her back, slightly above Clark’s favorite spot, was a scar. Paler than her normal skin tone. An old one. A miniscule scar, not more than a centimeter in length, but long enough for Clark to see without enhanced vision.
The woman in the video hadn’t had that scar. Her back had been perfect.
The music ended.
Time to switch dance partners.
Part 216Clark took a step back from Mayson and applauded the band. “Excuse me,” he said, or he hoped he had said it, but his mind had already moved onto Lois just a few short steps away. “Excuse me,” he was sure he said this time to Perry. “May I cut in?”
His boss let go of his dance partner. “Why certainly, Clark,” Perry said. Turning, he nodded to Lois. “You were right. He came back.”
Lois beamed at Clark, making him feel the most peculiar sensation. His heart swelled as his stomach dropped at the same time. “I just had a feeling he would,” she purred as she turned her back towards their boss to face her new dance partner.
Clark took both Lois’s hands in his and drew her to his chest. He was about to say how much he admired her dress, when he heard the Chief exhale a murmured, “Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lord.”
Lois must have heard Perry as well, because her smile broadened. “Shall we dance, Clark?”
“Yes, of course,” he murmured, not taking his eyes away from hers as he started to sway.
After a while, though not longer than a minute, Lois’s smile dimmed. It was as if she had clapped her hands together, smashing his heart to dust between them. What was wrong and how could he make it right?
She tugged one of her hands free and set it on his shoulder.
“Oh, sorry,” Clark said, not sure where his mind had gone. He moved his free hand to that thin fabric between her shoulder blades and extended the hand still clasping hers into the proper dance formation.
“Clark, is something wrong?” she asked after another minute.
“No. Why?” he responded. He had been a tad quiet, but he had been busy becoming lost in Lois’s beautiful chestnut eyes.
“Because you’re so stiff and formal. Did Mayson say something to upset you?”
“Who? What? No,” he said, lowering his hand on her back slightly. It touched her bare skin and slid down to his favorite spot.
Only that curve of her back was just as equally bare, reminding him just how much her dress revealed. That spot was so bare, in fact, that he had to spread his fingers to find the lower edge of her dress. He cleared his throat and shifted his fingers so that they were back on the outside of the fabric. Unfortunately, now they were too low on her body to actually be considered still on her back. He tried to move his hand higher, but it kept slipping back down to his favorite spot. Finally, he pulled Lois closer so that he could shift his hand off her skin and onto the fabric at her waist. He could have just set his hand on her left hip, but she could’ve misconstrued that as him pushing her away.
Lois smiled. He had made the correct choice.
Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, which he slowly exhaled in order to slow down his racing heart. For some strange reason, touching Lois’s bare skin reminded him of when she had kissed his bare chest earlier that week.
Okay. That thought didn’t help relax him.
“Beautiful dress,” he mumbled into her hair.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
Clark tried once more to clear the fog out of his mind. Talking would help. He needed to keep their conversation going to distract himself from those several feet of naked skin.
“I notice that you have a scar on your back.”
Lois stiffened and raised her chin to look him in the eye. “I do?”
“Just a small one.”
“Of course,
you’d notice it,” she grumbled. “Where?”
He loosened his embrace as his hand returned to his favorite spot on her back. Without looking, just by slowly caressing her skin, he found that small glorious imperfection. He rubbed his index finger back and forth against that glorious scar.
“Oh.”
“Do you recall when you got it?” he asked.
“You want to talk scars?”
“I can be Riggs and you can be Lorna from
Lethal Weapon 3,” he suggested.
Lois’s expression told him that she knew he was as nuts as he felt. “Do
you have any scars, Chuck?”
He really needed to learn to run words through his head before speaking them.
“Um… No, not really.”
“Explain ‘not really’,” she countered, her eyes narrowing.
Clark glanced down and wondered how close to China this hole he had dug was.
“Smile, guys!” Jimbo said, causing Clark to look up. A flash of light blinded him.
Thank God for Jimmy Olsen!“Come on, Lois, you can give the Daily Planet a better smile than that,” Jimbo went on. “And no obscene gestures this time, either. It’s for the society pages.”
“Nobody cares about two reporters, Jimmy,” Lois retorted. “The Daily Planet isn’t the Metropolis Star and knows better.”
“Then, for us,” Clark whispered, nuzzling her ear.
“Oh, all right,” she replied, putting her back against Clark’s chest and smiling.
“Where’s your date, Jimbo?” Clark asked.
Jimbo lowered his camera. “I asked Mr. White for some advice…”
Lois and Clark smiled at each other knowingly. She raised her hand first. “Say no more.”
“I’m sorry,” Clark said and searched his mind for a way to change the topic. He spun Lois around so that Jimbo could get a shot of Lois’s back. “How about a tango pose?”
Their friend whistled. “Woo, wee. Lois, you didn’t tell me that Cat Grant left her wardrobe with you,” he teased.
“She didn’t! For your information,” Lois snapped, pointing a finger at Jimbo. “I bought this dress specifically for tonight.”
Jimbo gave Clark a look that didn’t need translating. And, yes, for the record, Clark knew he was one lucky guy.
“Don’t mind him, Lois. You look stunning,” Clark said, returning her to his embrace. “How about another photo for our desks, then?”
The resulting sigh told him that Lois was one more comment away from a serious explosion.
Jimbo must have recognized it as well and quickly snapped the picture. “Thanks, guys,” he called before moving on down the dance floor.
Clark continued their dance. “You bought this dress special for tonight?”
“What? I’m not allowed to dress up for a date with my man?” she returned, entirely too innocently.
“Your man,” he echoed. His teasing grin grew exponentially across his face. “I do like the sound of that,
minha.”
“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled. “A fat lot of good it did me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Hadn’t she heard him say how incredible she looked?
“Never mind. Just dance. Okay?”
“With pleasure,” he replied, spinning them around.
He wanted nothing more than to float her off the ground and dance with her in midair. Lois had a way about her that made him lose his footing and yet kept him grounded all at the same time.
“Wally’s approaching,” Lois mumbled under her breath. “He’s staring at me as if he’s going to ask for a dance. I’m going to tell him ‘no’.”
“That isn’t very polite,” Clark replied.
“Howdy, Kent. May I have an opportunity to dance with the belle of the ball?” Wally asked.
“Sorry, Wally. Clark’s already signed up for the rest of my dances tonight,” Lois responded, cutting off Clark’s answer before he could formulate it. Did she think he wouldn’t stick up for her?
“Geeze, Lois. If you don’t want to make Kent jealous by dancing with other men, why wear a dress like that?” Wally retorted.
Clark stepped towards his colleague and looked him in the eye. “Why do you assume that Lois has ulterior motives for the way she’s dressed?”
Wally seemed surprised by his question. “You’ve met your partner, haven’t you, Kent? There’s always a reason.”
“I happen to think she looks wonderful. Is that reason enough for you?”
Wally raised his hands in self-defense. “Just asking.”
“The answer is
no,” Clark said, stepping between Wally and Lois.
Wally backed away.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Lois mumbled.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of him,” Clark replied, pulling her back into his arms.
“No, you. Acting the big tough guy to Wally, as if my telling him ‘no’ was meaningless and I needed to use you as my shield.”
“But…” he sputtered. She had
asked him to tell Wally ‘no’. Hadn’t she?
“What’s done is done,” Lois went on. “Now, you’re going to have the reputation around the newsroom as the jealous type.”
“Jealous? Of Wally?” Clark scoffed. “Just because I didn’t want him to manhandle you?”
“Do you think I can’t handle myself against a sexist pig like Wally?”
“Hey, my mistake,” Clark said, raising his hands briefly in defeat. “I’ll call Wally back over here and tell him that he has my blessing for the next dance.”
Lois wrapped her arms around his neck. “That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Clark murmured, enclosing her in his arms once more. “Then, I’d have to turn around and have to save him from you. This is supposed to be my night off.”
She shrugged. “You can’t save everyone.”
He sighed dramatically. “You know between the number of people who threaten you and whom you threaten, you’re my number one client, especially since Lex Luthor was put behind bars. Perhaps I should start charging you. I wonder what my rate could be.”
She placed her lips to his, softly kissing him.
Well, that answered that question.
***
It took much longer than Lois thought it would before Clark became comfortable dancing with his hand resting on her bare back. She should have known better than to think he’d give up trying to move his hand off her back during the first dance or by the fourth.
After they had eaten some of Uncle Mike’s delicious catering, Clark relaxed enough to stop his hands from jumping off her back every time he touched her bare skin.
Thank you, Uncle Mike.As Clark spun her around during one song, Lois noticed Mayson glaring at them.
Mayson probably thought that Lois’s choice of dress had to do with tempting Clark away from her, even though Clark was Lois’s date. Mayson couldn’t be further from the truth. Then, again, Mayson didn’t know Clark as well as Lois did.
If Lois had been unsure about his loyalty, she wouldn’t have so eagerly allowed him to dance with the blonde lawyer. Although, if Lois had thought that Clark would dump her for anyone else, she wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of buying a dress that forced him to confront his inability to touch her bare skin. She wouldn’t have troubled herself with Clark at all. Had the A.D.A. really thought that Clark was going to leave Lois for her? Why would any woman want a man who was so wishy-washy?
On the other hand, even Perry had been nervous when he saw that Clark was holding Mayson closer than necessary during their dance, dipping Lois low so that she could see them without being obvious about it. Lois had reassured her boss that Clark wasn’t going anywhere and she had been right.
Why did men doubt her?
Had Mayson misunderstood Clark’s actions? Probably. That seemed to be her modus operandi.
Mayson opened her purse and looked down at something inside, before bee-lining out of the room.
“What was that?” Clark asked, stepping back to look Lois in the eye.
“What was what?”
“I heard a beeping noise,” he replied, glancing around. “It sounded close.”
Ah. “Mayson practically ran out of here. Maybe her beeper went off,” Lois said.
Clark shut his eyes, slowing down the tempo of their dance so that it no longer matched the tune. “There’s been a bombing at the local U.S. Attorney’s Office,” he whispered, stopping completely. “Martin Snell and the attorneys interviewing him were all killed.” He shook his head. “Even I couldn’t have saved them unless I knew about it beforehand.”
Lois pulled him into a tight embrace. Clark hated death of any sort. As she reassured him, she looked around the ballroom. Bill Church was nowhere to be seen. Convenient.
After a short minute, she patted Clark’s back. “Come on. It sounds like a job for Lane and Kent,” she said, tugging him towards their table.
He nodded. “Kent and Lane.”
“L before K, Chuck.”
“In which alphabet?”
“Mine.”
Clark assisted Lois reattaching her cloak to cover her backless dress. He leaned over her shoulder when he was done and kissed her cheek, whispering, “In case you didn’t notice, I love your dress.”
Lois shrugged. “This new thing? You should…” She sucked her words back into her mouth.
“I should what?” he asked, resting his hand at the base of her now covered back.
… see it wadded up on your floor.She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“No, what?” he asked, pushing open the door that led down a staff-only corridor.
Thankfully, it was empty. Lois nodded down the long passageway. “Give us a little boost?” Before she finished speaking, they arrived at the other end. “What isn’t there to love about you?”
He grinned and pushed open the door. It opened on the lobby.
They passed Bill Church heading back inside as they left.
“
Convenient,” she murmured to her partner.
“Coincidence isn’t proof,” he replied.
Lois rolled her eyes. “Then let’s find the proof.”
***
Lois stretched her arms above her head, shifting her head from side to side as she and Clark walked out of the Daily Planet building several hours later.
“There’s a taxi!” Clark said, waving towards the cab.
“Why can’t you just…?” she asked, making the fly hand gesture.
He opened the cab door. “This way is just as good.”
Lois rubbed her neck. “But the other way, we’d be home already,” she snapped.
“1058 Carter Avenue, please,” Clark told the driver.
Lois leaned forward and tapped on the partition. “Cancel that. 344 Clinton Street, instead.”
“But your home is on Carter Avenue,” he reminded her as if she had forgotten.
She set her hand on his arm.
My home is wherever you are, she wanted to say. Unfortunately, her muscle twinged at that second, causing her to wince and tighten her grip on his arm. Thus, ruining the moment. She rolled and stretched her shoulder a few times to convince it to behave. It didn’t work.
Clark stared at her as if trying to read her mind and failing. Finally, he sighed. “Let me,” he murmured, setting his hands on her shoulders. His gentle hands massaged the back of her neck and the exposed section of her shoulders.
It was as if he had opened a bag of chocolate chips and only offered her one.
“You’re tense.”
“It wasn’t the evening I imagined.”
“Nor I,” he murmured as his thumb moved up the back of her neck.
“How had you imagined tonight?”
“Romance and dancing, not intrigue and bloodshed.”
She had pictured two sweaty bodies entangled in sheets.
“The dancing was nice,” she said.
“Very,” he agreed, his warm breath tickling her neck as he leaned to whisper in her ear. “Although, that wasn’t really dancing.”
Lois swallowed. “Oh?”
“I’ll show you later,” he murmured, kissing her neck.
Perhaps tonight wasn’t a total loss after all, she thought.
***
“Tea?” Clark asked after opening the door to his apartment and casually dropping his jacket over the back of his couch.
“How about more of your magic fingers on my back?” Lois suggested.
My naked back.“I have chamomile. It will help you relax,” he countered.
Was Clark proposing this because acting as host would relax him?
“Okay.” Lois took off her cloak and, picking up his jacket, draped both over the back of one of his dining table chairs. No point in risking wrinkles. She was too tightly wound to sit down and wait, anyway.
Frankly, she couldn’t wait to take off this dress. The lace at the back of the neck was rubbing her raw. However, knowing Clark’s ability to fly off at the drop of… well, anything, she decided to suffer in silence a little while longer.
She reached for the Greek figurine on his bookshelf. The statue was of a man and woman blending into one being. Then, she recalled it had been cracked when someone had broken into his apartment after Nightfall. She didn’t want to remind Clark of the incident by having it fall to pieces in her hand.
“Here,” Clark said, suddenly from behind her, causing her to startle. He had taken off his glasses and held out a mug of tea.
“That was quick,” she said, taking the mug and moving away from his bookshelf.
“I cheated.”
She set her hand on his arm. “It isn’t cheating,” she corrected, circling around to sit down on the couch. “I just need to get used to this new normal.”
Clark’s lips broadened into a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“What? Me changing for you?”
“That I’m normal.”
Lois took a sip of her tea before raising it slightly. “This
is normal for you. Just because it’s different from other people’s norms doesn’t make it abnormal.”
“I like that you’ve never seen me as that,” he said, setting down his mug and flexing his fingers. “Turn around and let’s see what we can do about that stiff shoulder.”
They were alone and he was going to touch her. On purpose. She wondered if his rushing blood was causing his heart to quicken as hers was.
Lois kicked off her heels and placed her mug down next to his. Unhurriedly, she shifted around, giving him the full view of her bare back.
She lifted up her hand and tapped as far back as she could reach over her right shoulder. “There are some hooks and eyes holding the lace in place.”
His fingers brushed her neck, loosening her dress, and Lois let out a pent up moan. His hands stilled and disappeared. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. Don’t stop.”
But Clark’s fingers didn’t return.
“Perhaps we should move to… um… you should lie down,” he suggested, standing and holding up his hand. “Wait. I’ll just… uh… hold on.”
Lois raised a curious brow as she crossed her arms so that her dress wouldn’t slip off completely.
Clark picked up their two mugs of tea and vanished into his bedroom.
She relaxed her crossed arms and smiled. The bodice of her gown slid down her shoulders an inch or two.
He returned and leaned against the doorway arch. He was now sadly dressed in familiar sweatpants and a clingy t-shirt. Clark looked so handsome in the tux. Then, again, he never looked bad.
“I… uh…” His gaze drifted to her now lower neckline. Clearing his throat, he continued, “I put some clothes on the bed for you to… uh… wear.”
Clothes?“Um… while I rub your back,” he went on. “Unless you want me to pick up something from your apartment.”
“Don’t I have some clothes here?” she asked.
He indicated his bedroom, stepping aside to allow her entrance. “I’ll just…” he murmured, moving into the kitchen.
Lois stood in his doorway, holding her dress so that it wouldn’t slip to the floor and accidentally cause Clark to break all of his dishes. She watched as he puttered around in his kitchen, not really doing much of anything other than staying busy.
She didn’t see how him being in his kitchen would give her any privacy, being that he could look directly into his bedroom from there. Then again, Clark could see into her bedroom on Carter Avenue from his kitchen here if he wanted to. She had nothing to hide from him and she tried to think of it as a positive step, if he peeked. She shrugged and turned into his bedroom.
Lying on the bed was a pair of summer Capri pajama pants. When had she moved these here? She couldn’t recall bringing anything other than lingerie to wear as nightclothes when she had been drunk on Revenge. Actually, she hadn’t planned on much sleeping or wearing anything when she collapsed in exhaustion into Clark’s arms. Had Clark brought them now or had he taken them when they did laundry together while she was undercover?
With the pants were one of her t-shirts.
Shaking her head, she let her dress slip to the floor. She stepped out of it and tossed it to the window seat. She didn’t hear any breaking china, so Clark must not have been watching. She wished she could look through walls to see what Clark was doing. Halting her motions, she listened, but couldn’t hear more than a slight humming noise from the other room. It wasn’t loud enough for her to catch the tune.
Lois turned her back towards his bathroom mirror, trying to see the scar he had mentioned earlier but to no avail. There were no unsightly moles. No big patterns of freckles. Lucy had a constellation under her right shoulder in freckles. Lois’s back was beautifully blemish free.
Yet, Clark had seen some impossible-to-see-or-remember scar.
She rolled her eyes.
After getting dressed, Lois lay face down on his bed with a pillow under her chest so that she could breathe. She crossed her forearms under her jaw and waited. When he didn’t come right away, she called out to him, “Okay, Clark. I’m ready.”
Soft music filled the apartment. “I still have some vitamin E cream…” Clark said, entering the room and heading for his dresser. He drew in a sharp breath. “You’re naked.”
She wasn’t naked. She had put on those pajama pants he had set out for her. “How do you expect to rub my back properly if I’m wearing a t-shirt?” she retorted.
“Right. Of course. I should have…
But… No. Of course. This makes more sense,” he rambled, but Lois didn’t hear him move any closer.
She refused to give him an inch. The massage had been his idea. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he whispered, and she felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat down next to her.
*
Clark’s hand hovered over her skin, her beautiful skin. Exhaling one last breath, he allowed himself to set his hand down in the middle of her back. There was a minor irritation where the dress had scratched her. His fingers paused at that spot. He blew a cooling breeze and she shivered.
He scooted up the bed to better reach her shoulders. Hesitantly, he moved his hand up to her bare shoulders and then back down her spine to where her pants rested loosely on her hips.
Unscrewing the tub of vitamin E cream, he dipped two fingers inside. Slowly, he rubbed the cream over the palms of his hands, warming it before returning his hands to her back. He applied a thin layer over her back from where her clavicles met her shoulders straight down.
She moaned in approval as he encircled every one of her vertebrae from the base of her skull downwards. Well, as far as her clothing allowed, in any case.
As his fingers traced the edges of her shoulder blades, Clark’s eyes drifted off course to the pillow on which she lay.
His pillow. The pillow that he usually laid his head on at night.
Thankfully, Lois lay in such a way that her chest wasn’t exposed.
He closed his eyes and imagined snuggling against that pillow later. What wonderful dreams he would have, knowing what had rested there before his head.
Clark flashed his eyes open. He shifted his position again, so that he was now facing away from her chest, and looked towards her… feet.
Yes, her feet, legs, and other body parts.
He concentrated his attention on her waist. His gaze caught sight of that little scar again.
“You know, this scar isn’t a straight line after all. It’s more like an L that has fallen over,” he said, breaking the silence. “It almost looks like an arrow with one of its short lines missing.”
“Oh!” Lois said, smacking herself in the forehead. “
That scar.” She laughed. “When I was eight or ten, I went bicycling in my bikini. I was late coming back from the pool and it was hot and I hadn’t wanted to cover up. It was totally against the rules. Both my father and mother had warned me to be properly dressed when riding my bicycle. ‘Otherwise it’s too dangerous. You’re sure to fall off and injure yourself,’” she said, impersonating the arrogant tone of one of her parents, but he wasn’t sure which one. “Of course, I fell off and landed on some broken pavement or rocks, glass or whatnot, and got that gash.” She laughed. “So, I couldn’t tell them or I’d never would’ve heard the end of it.” Her voice lost all traces of humor after she sighed. “Not that either of them were home before me anyway. I was late, and they were later. Well, Mom was later, and drunk. Daddy didn’t come home at all that night.” She set her head back down on her arms, facing away from him. “I didn’t know then that it would become a trend with them. I just thanked my lucky stars, put away my bike, and had Lucy help bandage me up.” She shook her head. “They never knew,” she said it as if she thought that they hadn’t cared enough to find out.
“It looks a bit like cupid’s arrow,” Clark murmured, rubbing his index finger back and forth against that small patch of skin. It was pointed at her… uh… lower,
very low back. He leaned over to place his lips to the little scar. “I like it. It makes you unique.” He kissed it again.
She gave a soft whimper he could feel in the pit of his stomach.
He sat up. “I’m sorry. I’ve been neglecting my duties. Which shoulder hurts, again?”
“Left,” Lois said hoarsely.
“Left. Got it!” he said. He looked down at his position on the bed. He was on the wrong side of Lois. He was about to float over her back to the other side of the bed when he saw the scar on her right arm. He ran his thumb over it. “
This scar, on the other hand, I hate,” he said, kissing it anyway. “And that’s not a word I often use.”
Lois turned her face towards him. “Really? I love it.”
He scoffed. “You hate it as much as I do.”
“If I did, I would’ve let Lex get rid of it when he suggested it to the plastic surgeon,” she said, reaching up to caress Clark’s cheek. “It reminds me of the night I chose you over Superman.”
He closed his eyes. “Because he failed you.”
“No, you lunkhead,” she said, giving his cheek a soft slap. He opened his eyes. “I had chosen you before that psycho shot me. Anyway,
you didn’t fail me.
You were there for me that night and every day and night for months afterwards.” She reached over and set her hand on top of his hand still covering her bullet wound. “It reminds me to never let anyone or anything get between me and what I want.”
Her right hand slid from his cheek around to the back of his neck and drew his head down to hers, kissing his lips. She turned her body towards him a bit more and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
***End of Part 216*** Part 217 Comments
