***
All Shook Up: Lois Lane
***
“How close?”
She’s shocked. Maybe it hadn’t really sunk in yet that Clark has lost his memory--that he’s not Clark anymore--the tragedy of such a possibility subsumed beneath the larger crisis facing the world. She’d realized he wasn’t quite right, of course, never more so than when he’d meekly accepted her claim of being senior partner instead of one-upping her with some kind of smart comment and smug smirk. But even then, he’d still been so…Clark-like…so nervously polite in Cat’s clutches, so respectful to Perry and friendly to Jimmy, and backing her up exactly like always at the press conference...so familiar and welcome in the way he followed her so closely.
But now, with his question ringing in her ears like he’d hit her with a two-by-four instead of words, there’s no way to ignore how…off…he is. Not Clark, not quite. Because Clark doesn’t ask these kinds of questions. He doesn’t force confrontations, not about their…partnership. Friendship. Relationship. Whatever.
And that’s the problem right there, isn’t it? Clark’s so good at taking whatever she’s willing to give and not forcing more; at adjusting his own approach to hers; at always being there for her even when he disagrees with her. All this time, he’s just…there, and so she’s been able to avoid labeling anything.
But now he’s looking at her, all earnestness and curiosity and…anticipation? As if he already knows the answer but is waiting to act on it until she confirms it. (And that proves he is still Clark, after all, even if his confusion makes him bold.)
But she doesn’t know what the answer is.
How can she define the warmth his hello smiles send through her? How can she quantify the way she loves talking to him--whether it’s facts about a story or bantering with each other or just saying good night? How can she put into words the easy, comforting, teasing, many little touches they constantly exchange?
She can’t, and that’s why she’s never tried. Never let Clark try. Or really, she’s never let herself think about it and has only rarely--very rarely, usually in moments of loneliness she likes to pretend away--let herself wonder what Clark considers them.
Partners. Friends. Best friends. Something…more. Something closer.
Yes. Close. She likes that. No unreasonable expectations, no undue chances for vulnerability, but still the truth.
Because Clark Kent has wrapped himself around and through every bit of her day to day life. Because she wants him in all those places. Because she can’t imagine her days without him. Because even without his memories, he still smiles at her and lets her take his hand and listens to her talk as if every word she says matters.
Because he’s Clark, and she needs him close. Needs him to stay close.
It’s a simple, honest answer. So she wonders why she still feels like she’s missing something.
***
