Forty-five minutes passed. As planned, they'd picked up dinner on the way back to Clark’s apartment. He'd tried a bite of Lois' penne vodka and had enjoyed his baked ravioli as much as he could. The conversation to come had him a little too nervous to really enjoy his meal. His stomach was too busy turning somersaults for him to be able to eat much.
"Lois? Did you want to get changed into something more comfortable?" he asked, knowing she'd brought her stakeout bag inside with her.
"Yeah," she nodded. She reached for her plate as she stood. “If you don’t mind.”
"Not at all. I’m going to change too. Just leave the dishes. I've got it," he offered. "I'll clean up everything."
"Thanks."
He watched as she grabbed her bag from the couch and then headed off to his bathroom. He picked up the remnants of their meal, packed away the leftovers, and washed the dishes, using a fraction of his super speed to get through the tasks a little quicker. Then he headed into his bedroom to change. Using the technique he'd perfected during his years as Nightwing, he spun out of his work attire and into a soft pair of maroon sweatpants and a maroon and white sweatshirt. He hung his work suit up carefully on a hanger and put it away in his closet.
Lois emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. She was now in a pair of jeans and a fuzzy coral colored sweater. Her hair, once loose, was now bound in a loose ponytail. She sat on the couch after putting her stakeout bag by the door. Clark joined her a moment later, pretending to still be occupied with his suit.
"Hey," he said as he sat. It was a weak opener, he knew, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Hey," she replied.
"So...I guess I owe you a story," he said, fidgeting in his seat.
"Yeah. If you want to, I mean."
"I promised I would."
She nodded. "You did."
He sighed. "Okay. Just...this isn't easy for me, okay? Thinking about what happened in the past...it's not pleasant. So...if it seems like I'm struggling? It's not because I don't want to tell you. It's because finding the right words...thinking about the time between when my folks died and Bruce took me in...some of it still haunts me. Most of it does, to be honest."
"Oh, Clark," Lois said, looking horrified. "I don't want you to do it if it means so much pain for you."
"No. It's okay. It's bound to come up sooner or later," he reasoned. "Okay, so...where to begin?" He thought for a moment. "Lois, remember when we first started working together, on our first story as partners?"
"The Majestic Theater demolition. When the owner tried to have his stepdaughter killed."
"Right. We were at the diner together, and talking. You said something about Bruce adopting me, and I corrected you. I said that he'd taken me in, getting me out of a bad situation. I'd thought for sure you'd ask what that bad situation had been, but you never did. At the time, I was thankful for that. But that's exactly what I need to tell you about now."
Lois nodded. "Are you sure, Clark?"
"Yes," he said, without hesitation. "Lois...look. You're my best friend. I want you to know this. Because...because that's what best friends do. They let people get close to them. They tell them things no one else knows. Up until now, I’ve never had the chance to build a friendship like you and I have. I’ve never let anyone get this close to me. But with you…it’s different. I want to share everything with you."
Almost everything. One day, maybe I’ll be ready to tell you about my super abilities. But not now. I’m still too afraid.
"Wait. You...think of me as your best friend?" Lois sounded taken off guard.
Clark nodded solemnly. "I do."
She smiled tenderly, looking deeply touched. "I...I guess...You're my best friend too, Clark. I mean, I know you are. I guess...some part of me didn't want to admit that...mostly because I am a lousy best friend. And, before you argue and say I'm not," she quickly added, killing the retort that was already on his tongue, "I really am. I can't even tell you the last time I really, truly had a friend. One way or another...and it hasn't always been my fault...my friendships always seem to crash and burn. Not unlike my love life, come to think of it," she added with what sounded like a self-loathing laugh.
"To be honest...I'm not much different in that respect. Pretty much all of my friendships, with the exception of Bruce, have fallen apart over the years. And when I tell you my story, you'll see why."
"Well...if you're ready...then I'm ready to hear it."
"Okay," he said, nodding once more. "And Lois?"
"Hmm?"
"Thanks. You know. For caring enough to want to listen."
"Well, as you said...what are friends for?" Lois replied, smiling encouragingly.
Despite himself, Clark smiled too. Then he took a deep breath before he began, trying to steady his nerves and mentally preparing himself to relive his memories.
"Okay, so...where to start? I guess...at the beginning. The very beginning," Clark began nervously, feeling his palms go sweaty. He rubbed them on his pant legs to dry them. "I was adopted by my parents after they found me on their doorstep one night." It was so easy to repeat the lie of a story the Kents had concocted to keep his origins secret. "When I was thirteen, my mom and I were in a car crash. I got lucky and walked away unscathed, but my mom was killed on impact. The driver of the other car slammed right into her door. My dad died of a heart attack that night. There was no one else to take me in...at least, there were no blood relations. Plenty of friends and neighbors offered to let me stay with them. But, instead of letting me stay in Smallville with any of the people who wanted me to live with them, I was sent to live in a halfway house while my fate was decided. Every day I wondered: Would the court decide to let me stay with a neighbor after all? Would I be sent to a foster home? Was there some other couple out there willing to adopt a teenager?" He shrugged and sighed.
"I lived at Grandma Tildy's until I was fifteen," he continued. "Grandma...she’s an incredible woman. She's the one that got me started on the whole idea of becoming a journalist. Her house…it was never home, but all things considered, it was a great place. I made friends. I worked on my high school diploma. I even helped Grandma find ways to save money around the house. But when I was fifteen, I ran away."
"Why? I mean, if it was a great place and all...?"
"It just...I needed to get out of there," Clark stuttered. "There was an incident that wound up being a bigger deal in my own head than it was in reality. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how badly I’d overreacted. But by then, it was far too late. Doesn't matter what the incident was," he said, ending Lois' question before she could voice it. "I left and I knew I couldn't go back. I was afraid to go back. But the problem was...I had nowhere to go. I wandered aimlessly for long time, living out in the woods and whatnot, because I didn't want to be found and brought back to Grandma's. Eventually, I wound up in Gotham City. I spent months moving from homeless shelter to homeless shelter."
"Oh, God, Clark! I had no idea!" Lois gasped.
He nodded absently. "It was bad, Lois. I couldn't believe the theft and violence I saw. That's why I didn't stay for too long at any one of them. I kept moving around, trying to find one where I felt even remotely safe. My meals? They mostly came from the local soup kitchens. But I was seventeen at that point, and was able to snag a few part time jobs, so I at least had a little money coming in. Not a lot, of course, but enough to buy the occasional piece of new clothing or a sandwich."
"That's why you were so unhappy with Bobby Bigmouth during our first investigation," Lois said, snapping her fingers in remembrance. "When we met him at the soup kitchen, with that big bag of deli food."
"Yeah," he admitted, hanging his head for just a moment. "I was shocked at how insensitive I thought he was being. There he was, feasting away, while the people on the other side of the door were eating what was probably their only meal of the day." He waved his hand in the air, as if dismissing the thought. "Anyway, one day, Bruce happened to come into one of the stores where I was working, because he was considering doing business with the place. We wound up running into each other later on at one of the local parks. I had no idea who he was but we struck up a conversation."
"You didn't know him?" By the tone of her voice, she found it hard to believe.
He shrugged. "I was seventeen and homeless. I wasn't exactly up to date on my Who's Who of the rich and famous. Over the course of the summer, we kept bumping into each other at the park. I'd spend some time there between shifts at work and he liked to get out on his lunch breaks. We became friends. I let it slip one day that I was looking for a roommate...the shelters only let you stay for so long before they kick you out. He offered to take me in."
"And, obviously, you said yes," Lois supplied.
"Not at first," he gently corrected her. "I was wary at first. Friends or not, we were still mostly strangers to each other. I couldn't believe his offer was genuine at first. But there was an incident at the shelter a few nights later."
"Seems like there were a lot of 'incidents' back then," Lois said, though not unkindly. She sounded curious.
Clark laughed ruefully. "Unfortunately, yes. I was getting ready to go to sleep a few nights after Bruce offered up his home and we got to know each other a lot better over a dinner. I was at the shelter, like usual. There was this guy. Drunk like you wouldn't believe. He, uh...tried to force...himself...on me. That sealed the deal. I was out of there as soon as the police were done arresting him and taking my statement. I went to live at Wayne Manor and never looked back. From there, I worked hard, finished my schooling, and went to work for the Gazette, until I felt it was time to move on. I quit the paper and came to Metropolis, hoping Perry would hire me."
For a long minute, Lois sat in stunned silence. Clark began to worry after the first thirty seconds had passed. In his, albeit limited experience, a quiet Lois was usually to be feared. It meant she was on the verge of erupting with anger. When she did eventually speak again, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Clark...I'm so, so sorry. That story...I get why it's hard for you to talk about. And I'm sorry I ever thought of you as a spoiled, rich kid. I never realized...I assumed that you were a rich man getting used to living a life of...mediocre middle class. I never once imagined that you, of all people, could have ever had it so rough. I mean...you're the kindest, nicest person I've ever met. I guess...I guess I've always pictured people who've had it hard in their lives as having a...a rougher edge to them. Stupid, I know, but..." She shrugged and let her voice trail off for a moment. "Please, tell me you pressed charges against the man who did that to you."
Clark nodded. "I did. He served jail time and had to register as a sex offender. I'm not sure if he's out of jail now or what...it was over ten years ago. But Lois?"
"Hmm?"
"You don't have to apologize. I understand exactly why you would have...thought the things that you did. I might have thought the same way, in your shoes."
"But...it's just not fair," Lois said. "You're the best person I've ever known. For life to hand you cards like that..."
He smiled slightly and shrugged. "Life's never been concerned with what's fair. Besides, most of my troubles were of my own making. I'm not ashamed of my past. I wish I'd maybe made a few different decisions, but, ultimately, meeting Bruce was exactly what I needed. I learned a lot, living in Wayne Manor, and it really helped to shape who I am now. Even my years of homelessness taught me valuable lessons. I wouldn't be who I am without those experiences. Do you know what I think of as the worst part of my past? The fact that I didn't know you."
Lois smiled, but it was one of disbelief. "Please," she said, brushing off the comment.
"No, really. The worst part of not having a home was the loneliness. Everything else I could tolerate. The not knowing where I'd sleep or where my next meal would come from was nothing compared to not having a friend to turn to."
"Well...you never have to go through that ever again," she assured him.
His grin was more confident this time. "I hope not."
"Trust me. And...to prove it...I never got the chance to answer your question earlier."
Clark was momentarily puzzled. "What question?"
"About the White Orchid Ball. I was going to answer before but we got a little sidetracked. I'd love to go with you."
Clark felt his heart take flight. "Really?"
"Really. The truth is, as much as it's a working night for me, trying to make connections and whatnot, it's always been a little bit of a lonely night too. Despite the fact that Perry and Jimmy always attend."
"Jimmy goes?" Clark was surprised, though he couldn't pinpoint why, exactly.
"Well, someone has to take photos of the event," Lois said with a casual shrug.
"Makes sense," Clark admitted with shrug to match hers. "Jimmy's the best photographer we've got. So...it's a date then."
"It's a professional, working night," Lois countered.
Clark chuckled. "It's an expression, Lois," he teased.
"I know. But, like I've already told you...I'm not someone you want to get too involved with. You're too nice a guy to be destroyed by my awful dating record. And I couldn't bear to lose you as a friend."
"You'll never lose me, Lois," Clark vowed. "But, okay, sure, it's a working date. Not a date date."
There's time for that yet, his mind told him. Get to know each other as best friends first. This is too new for the both of you still.
True, he reasoned back at his inner voice. I can be patient. It'll be worth it. Lois is worth it.
***
"Lex, good to see you again," Clark forced himself to say politely a week later, at the White Orchid Ball.
"Ah, yes, Clark Kent! It's been a long time," the billionaire said, shaking Clark's hand. "I'd heard you’d given up the life of luxury to pursue a life here in Metropolis."
"I did," Clark nodded. "I'm with The Daily Planet now."
"That's a great publication," Lex said with a nod to match Clark's. "How are you liking it?"
Clark's hackles rose. There was something cold, almost reptilian about the way Lex spoke. There always was.
"It’s a dream come true and the paper certainly is the best," Clark agreed amiably. "Uh, Lex? This is Lois Lane. Also of The Daily Planet."
"Ah, yes," Lex said, taking her hand and kissing it. "I recognize the name. Enchanté."
"So much so that you refuse to return my phone calls?" Lois answered, one eyebrow arched. She gracefully withdrew her hand.
"A grievous mistake on my part," Lex replied. "I should like to get to know you better."
"Yes, well," Lois said, giving Clark a side glance. "I was actually hoping to interview you."
Lex's painfully fake smile faded. "I don't give interviews," he said, almost frowning. "I find reporters to be...typically biased against people like me. But I would be more than glad to speak to you on other matters."
"Sounds like you haven't met the right reporters," Lois said, sidestepping his offer to...
To what? Clark's mind asked. A date? To be his next conquest?
The thought burned him with revulsion. He wasn't a hateful man by any stretch of the imagination. He could count on one hand the amount of people he'd ever met whom he really, truly hated. But Lex Luthor had always, always topped that list, ever since he'd first been introduced to the man. The idea that Lex might attempt to make a move on Lois inflamed his hatred to a level he hadn't known was possible. He slung a protective arm around Lois.
"She's right you know," he said, jumping in. "Lois is a complete professional. You couldn’t ask for a better reporter to represent you in print."
Lex eyed the placement of Clark's arm coolly. "Yes...well...I will consider it. But I make no promises."
"Of course not," Clark replied, holding Lois imperceptibly tighter.
"Sir?" an older gentleman interrupted. Clark knew Nigel only in passing, from two separate occasions when Lex had visited Wayne Manor on business. "The Mayor and her husband have arrived."
"Ah, yes. Thank you, Nigel." Lex turned back to Lois and Clark. "Please, excuse me. You know how it is," he said, focusing his gaze on Clark.
Clark nodded once, politely. "Of course."
"Please, enjoy the evening," Lex said. In the next moment, he was gone, exchanging pleasantries with others while he moved.
Lois turned to Clark. "What the hell was that all about?" she demanded in a low hiss.
"What was what all about?" he asked, confused.
"Horning in on my conversation like that?"
Clark lowered his voice. "I told you. I don't trust him. I was trying to help. First, by trying to help you score the first ever interview with him. And secondly, by trying make sure he was only focused on the interview."
"You mean make him think we're together, in case he wanted to...to date me?" Her eyes flashed her anger.
Clark felt his entire face, neck, and even his ears heat up in a blush. "Not exactly."
"Then what, exactly, were you trying to protect me from?" she demanded again, grabbing his elbow and leading him away from the crowded center of the room to a more deserted corner.
"I just...I don't want to see you get hurt, Lois. You said yourself that you've have problems with men using you to get what they want from you. Luthor is no different from those other men, Lois. His bank account is the only thing that sets him apart from people like Claude, believe me. I've heard plenty of stories about Luthor. He's got at least two illegitimate sons that I've heard about. Maybe more for all we know. Both women were paid off extremely handsomely so that they would just…go away and never breathe a word of their children’s father. Some of his business dealings are...vague and shadowy at best. Again, I've heard the payoffs to keep things under the rug were massive. Before you ask, no, I can't prove it. Maybe one day, but not right now. I just...I don't put it past him to try something....unwanted?...with you."
She scowled. "I don't need a bodyguard, Clark."
He hung his head, feeling suddenly sheepish. "I know," he admitted. "But you're my best friend, Lois. I didn't think. I just...don't want to see you get hurt. I overstepped the line and I'm sorry."
Lois studied his face for a moment. "You really don't trust him, do you?"
"I'd trust a rattlesnake more than him."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. I'll be careful. If he agrees to ever let me interview him."
Clark nodded. "That's all I ask." Somehow, he felt a little bit relieved.
"Hey! Fancy running into you here," came a new voice.
Clark snapped his gaze away from Lois to find the speaker. His face lit up in a grin.
"Bruce! It's about time you showed your face here!" he teased. “What happened? Your private helicopter break down or something?”
“Funny.” Bruce rolled his eyes good naturedly. "I got caught up on a call with S.T.A.R. Labs. We think we might have figured out the kinks in that robotic leg we've been working on." He waved his hand in the air, dismissing the topic. "It doesn't matter. How are you?"
"Great. Bruce, this is Lois Lane, my best friend and partner. Lois, this is Bruce Wayne, my friend and mentor."
"Miss Lane! A pleasure to meet you. I've been a big fan of your work for a long time now. Excellent job you did on busting open that gun smuggling ring in the Congo. My money's on you taking home another award for that series."
He, like Lex, took Lois' hand and lightly kissed the top, although the way he did it didn't set off Clark's alarms. He knew Bruce was merely being his usual polite and charming, genuine self, whereas Lex always felt like he was calculating his next move and how to use a person to his own benefit.
"It's nice to meet you," Lois replied. "Clark's told me a bit about you. He really admires you."
Bruce grinned. "And Clark's told me practically everything about you. He's quite smitten with you."
"Hey now," Clark started to protest as Lois blushed and giggled a little.
"Yep, he's fallen pretty hard for you," Bruce said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Oh really?" Lois said, eyebrows arched. At least she appeared to be amused, Clark saw.
"And now I need to go find a hole to go crawl into and die of embarrassment," Clark joked. "Thanks for that, Bruce. I really owe you one."
Bruce's grinned grew unbelievably wider. "Hey, we're practically brothers. It's what we do." He snapped his fingers as a thought occurred to him. "Oh, hey, before I forget. I have some of your things with me. Can I stop by after this and drop them off?"
"Things?" Clark asked, confused. All of his things had already been moved to Metropolis, all flown in in the dark post-midnight hours while Batman had prowled the streets and Clark Kent would have been presumed to be sound asleep, like any sane person. All of the trinkets he'd collected on his word travels, his books, even his clothes... "Oh! Right! My things," he said as the realization hit. Bruce had to mean the super suits he'd asked Alfred to make for him. "Sorry, I guess I didn't expect you to be bringing stuff with you to the White Orchid Ball," he continued to cover for himself.
Bruce shrugged. "Now seemed as good a time as any. And I figured I could save you a trip out to Gotham. No matter. May I get you a drink?" he asked, turning to Lois.
"Oh, no, I'm fine for now," she replied. "Thank you though. So, you and Clark are pretty close, huh?"
"Mmm hmm," Bruce nodded.
"You must have some good stories about him," Lois said slyly. "As his best friend and, apparently, the woman he's fallen for, I think I should hear some of them."
"Oh no," Clark groaned in mock embarrassment.
"Maybe," Bruce replied in the same sly tone as Lois.
Lois laughed as Clark's face went scarlet in a blush. "What?" she asked innocently. "I think a story or two is the perfect penance for you trying to act as my bodyguard earlier."
Clark opened his mouth to protest, but found no retort on his tongue. He closed his mouth again and stuffed his hands into his pockets like a chastised schoolboy. He nodded. "You're probably right," he admitted.
Lois nodded in turn. "But not now. Later. Right now, I wouldn't mind a dance," she said, looking straight at him, as the lively music melted away and a slower song took its place.
Clark smiled. "Of course. May I have this dance?"
"Mmmm,” she hummed. “I thought you'd never ask."
Clark took her hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor, which was growing thick with dancing couples. He took her in his arms and began to sway.
"I love this song," Lois said after a minute.
Clark listened for a heartbeat. "Me too."
"This is nice," she commented after another small silence had lapsed between them.
"Yeah," Clark remarked. "You know something, Lois? I've been to a ton of these kinds of receptions before. And I've hated them. Every single one of them. Oh, I've liked the fact that most of them helped us raise money for a charity or cause or whatnot. But I've never enjoyed them. Tonight though? For the first time, it doesn't feel like a chore to be here. I'm enjoying myself, despite the fact that we're in Lex Luthor's home. And it has everything to do with the company."
"You know what? The feeling's mutual." She smiled up at him for a second, then laid her head against his chest.
For half a heartbeat, Clark's feet left the floor as he began to float in his bliss. But he became aware of the danger he was in quickly, and forced himself to stay earthbound.
I want this forever, he realized in that instant. Lois is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. He mentally sighed, then sent out a plea to God or the universe or fate or whatever it was that kept the world marching on. Please, I've been through a lot in my life. I've made a ton of mistakes. I've done things that I'm ashamed of. But please, let me find a way to be Lois' husband. I want a family again, more than anything else in this world.
***
"Clark?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you, for tonight. I really did have a great time."
"Me too," he said, smiling from ear to ear.
"Ready to leave?"
The White Orchid Ball was winding down to a close. Most of the guests had already taken their leave. Even Lex Luthor himself, seemed to be missing. Clark hadn't caught sight of the man in almost an hour. It was likely that the billionaire was locked in conversation with someone in a private room someplace. He didn't care. He was more than ready to leave Luthor's home. His only hesitation was saying goodnight to Lois.
The night had been a dream. They'd laughed together, talked together, and danced together the whole evening. It had felt almost like a date. Almost. Except it wasn't a date. They'd simply been two friends on a work assignment together. There would be no walking Lois to her apartment door. There would be no goodnight kiss.
"Oh, uh, yeah," he answered. "But, um, I need to talk to Bruce first."
"Oh, sure," Lois said with a nod. "He had some stuff to give you, right?"
"Yeah," Clark nodded in turn. "I'm not sure exactly how much he has with him."
As if he'd materialized at the mention of his name, Bruce approached them. "It's not much," he said, looking at Clark. "A couple of boxes. I can drop you home, if you'd like. Or I can give you the boxes and we can catch up in the morning."
"Option two sounds great. I have the day off tomorrow. Maybe we can talk over brunch?"
"You buying?" Bruce teased.
Clark shook his head, laughing. "No way! I'm a poor working stiff now. You're the man with money to burn."
Bruce chuckled. "Cheapskate." He grinned.
"Is this one of those weird, best male friends jokes that nobody gets?" Lois asked, amused and perhaps a bit bewildered.
"Yeah, we've been giving each other a hard time since...well...probably since right after I moved into Wayne Manor," Clark replied, unable to wipe the grin off his face and choking back a laugh.
"I see," Lois said, shaking her head. "Well, if it makes you happy, who am I to judge, right?"
"Okay, brunch then," Bruce said.
"I know of a great little spot," Clark confirmed.
"And you, Miss Lane?" Bruce asked.
"Lois," Lois reflexively corrected. "Please."
"Okay, Lois. Will you be joining us?" Bruce's tone sounded genuinely curious, but Clark knew the man was hoping to keep the meeting between just Clark and himself.
"I wish I could. I'd like to talk to you more," Lois replied. "But I promised one of the other reporters that I'd cover his shift so he can visit his ailing mother."
"A shame. Perhaps another time then? Will you be available for dinner?" Bruce offered.
"A late dinner, but yes, that would be lovely. Besides, you still owe me some stories about Clark here."
Bruce's smile turned impish. "Ah, yes. I do believe you're right about that."
"Oh boy," Clark gulped in dread that was only half feigned.
To Be Continued…
