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Christmas Greedings: Clark Kent
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She knew. She knew he’d lied to her. For good intentions, sure, but a lie just the same. Here was where she would get mad, for no reason she’d admit, though she’d say plenty. Or shrug him and his gesture off, tell him archly not to feel sorry for her, go home and see his family, she’d see him when he got back, don’t worry about her. Here was where he got shown the door, one way or another, and he’d known it was a risk coming her, but Lois had looked so forcedly casual when she asked Clark to come, so poignantly desperate when she invited Perry and Jimmy, and so forlorn when she’d been left alone outside the orphanage.

And he wanted to spend the evening with her, his honest side insisted on adding. Yeah. There was that. A lot of that.

She’d asked him--him, Clark!--to spend the holiday with her, after all. The first time she’d invited Clark to celebrate any holiday with her, and she’d asked him before anyone outside her family. He couldn’t help but feel as if this was a huge step forward for them--maybe, he dared to hope, to something more than friendship.

So yeah, it’d been a risk, but he hadn’t not been able to take it. But he’d lied, and he was here just for her, and now Lois’s pride would never let her accept his presence. His gift to her. Or really, his honest side piped up again, her gift to him--hours alone with Lois, dinner over candlelight, the opportunity to open up about more than just work for more than just a minute or two and no interruptions. More, that was what it would be.

If only she’d let him stay.

He watched intently as Lois stared him. Waited, hoping, fearing, wondering if it’d be anger or casualness that ended the night with him staring the dark wood of her door.

And then Lois smiled at him. A wide, delighted, beautiful smile. “You,” she said slowly, purposefully, “are just the best.” And to top it all off, she leaned into him, her hands inching up his shoulders.

He was grinning, and he couldn’t help it. She was letting him stay! And--he was once more forced to be honest--she was pressed into him, warm and inviting and smiling, as if there was no one else she’d rather be there for her.

The best. She’d never called him that before. Not once. Not ever. Superman was perfect, even Lex had been nearly perfect at times, but Clark? Clark had never been anything more than ‘best friend’ or ‘brother’ or ‘partner.’ All good things--except ‘brother,’ he could admit without any prompting whatsoever--but ‘best’?

Best was…well, just about best thing he’d ever heard.

Clark let his hands fall on Lois’s hips, and for just this one evening, on this holiday he loved more than any other, let himself imagine that this whole night, and all the nights that came after, would be just as perfect as that word.

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