Chapter 45:
Her eyelids were heavy and her mouth was dry.
Those were the first sensations Lucy could put a name to as she slowly emerged back into consciousness. The splitting headache followed closely after, and she raised her hand to cradle the throbbing sensation in her forehead, but her arm was stopped short by a sharp tug. She groaned. She didn't want to have to open her eyes yet, but it was becoming clear she'd need to fight her way out of wherever she was if she wanted to escape.
One, two... Lucy's brown eyes fluttered open slowly on a blink. It was bright, but somehow still darker than she'd expected. There was a blonde woman in the corner, typing away at some computer, and suddenly the memory clicked. The woman had come to Lois' apartment, and stupidly she'd answered the door without hesitation. Lucy could have kicked herself. She'd grown up in the city, she should have known better than that. Now she'd probably pay the price.
A figure stormed in from her peripheral and Lucy craned her neck to try and get a look at the man's face without moving too quickly. All she could see were the patent leather, polished tips of his shoes. Very expensive shoes. His sharp, loud tone startled her in the small, quiet space. "What the bloody hell did you do, Miranda?"
The blonde's shoulders ratcheted up with tension before she whirled around to reply. She grinned and puffed out her chest proudly in contrast to her initial reaction. "I did exactly what you needed to have done."
The new intruder clicked his tongue at her and Lucy racked her brain to place his voice, the accent so familiar. "The situation was under control. I did not say to go and kidnap Miss— who is this?"
Lucy froze, stilling her breath and any minor motion she might exhibit in hopes that they wouldn't notice she was awake. The British man's fancy loafers strode over confidently and she firmly closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear the blood flow in her ears.
He stopped short by her face.
"What are you talking about? That's Lois Lane."
Her fingers were tingling and her throat closed up. They wanted Lois? Oh God, she was going to die because she couldn't afford her own apartment. She had to get her life on track. She could defer on her student loans for a while. She had to re-enroll anyway and then—
A yelp of pain was pulled from her throat as he yanked her head up by her hair. Tears brimmed in Lucy's eyes as she scrambled against her captor, but he held her firmly in place by the nape of her hair. Suddenly his face loomed large in her view, and Lucy swallowed thickly.
"Hello, Miss Lane. Fancy seeing you here."
She floundered for a response, only managing to half croak, "Nigel." Her mind raced as he chuckled ominously. Nigel St. John. Lex Luthor's butler-slash-driver-slash-right-hand-man. What the hell did he want with Lois? Who was this chick he was working with?
He grinned at her and turned her face up to look at her other captor. "Do you see this girl, Miranda? How frightened she is, how unsure of what's going on?" He let her head drop sharply and turned away as she cried out again. "That is not Lois Lane."
Miranda froze and braced herself against the table behind her. "Wh-what are you talking about? She answered to Miss Lane when I grabbed her—"
"Lois Lane would have put up a fight. This is her little sister— isn't that right, Lucy?"
Lucy whimpered. Oh god, what had Lois gotten her into? She tried to stay calm, but her breath came heavier as she struggled to repress her fear. "Please, j-just let me go. You said you didn't want me."
"I'm afraid it's much too late for that, Lucy. Do you have any idea just how badly you screwed up, Miranda?"
Miranda shook her head fiercely. "How was I supposed to know—"
Nigel swept his arm across the desk and knocked everything off it. Lucy flinched at the sound. "You weren't supposed to know! You don't know anything!"
Outrage swept over Miranda’s features and she shoved Nigel away from her violently. "Don't yell at me! You're the one that insisted we do this!"
"I did no such thing! Now she's seen my face. What do you think she's going to do the second we let her go?"
"What's the big deal? She won't blab. I'll make sure of it."
Nigel ran a hand across his mouth and Lucy swallowed hard as he tried to gain some composure. "She better not. There's more at stake here than you're aware of. Which is why you don't get to run off and make snap decisions."
Lucy remained quiet as a mouse, absorbing as much information as possible while she still could. She had to tell Lois about this. Lex's lackey was a serious baddie. Did Lex know about this? Did Lois have any idea who the man she was almost engaged to was? Her stomach lurched, and Lucy fought the fear off as best as she could when she heard Miranda's next words.
"What do we do with her in the meantime, then?"
*****LnC*****
His palm smacked against the wall to brace for impact before his back followed. She surged her body up against his, grabbed two fistfuls of his nicely pressed shirt and claimed him with a kiss. It was amazing. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her deeper into him, tongue swirling in her mouth.
"Mmm, Lois."
She gasped for breath and dove back in. A shiver rolled down Clark's spine. He could feel every inch of her body flush against his. She hiked her leg up and Clark caught it and wrapped it around his waist like it was the most natural place for it in the world. "Oh, Lois,” he sighed into her hair, “Are you sure about this?"
She hummed non responsively, peppering his neck with kisses.
"What about Lex?"
She nuzzled him with a growl in the back of her throat. "Who?"
He didn't want to be frowning. He wanted to keep going, be happy, sleep with his dream girl and spend the rest of his life waking up next to her. But he shook his head and leaned away as much as he could to get a good look at her face. "Lex Luthor? Your boyfriend? The one you went scrambling out of this apartment over just last night?"
"I don't wanna talk about him. I just want you."
That answer would have been good enough if he hadn't seen her eyes.
He heaved for breath and allowed his mind to race as her hands and lips roamed his chest, every button she popped bringing him dangerously closer to losing control. But the glassy look and slight redness at the corners of her eyes tipped him off that she wasn't in her right mind. It was the same look he'd gotten from the woman whose apartment he'd helped extinguish. Was it something he was doing to attract their attention? This had to be more than attraction, and this wasn't Drunk Lois— he remembered Drunk Lois clearly. It was like she was drugged... Damn, why had he even asked? She was looping veil number four around his hips and if he only hadn't thought to ask, he'd have been free and clear. His brain was halfway to system overload as it was. Lois Lane pressed against him in nothing more than a skimpy bikini was proving to be one of the hardest trials he'd ever faced—
White hot lightning flashed in his brain as she sank to her knees, and he bolted.
Probably too fast. She blinked into the space where he was a moment ago and turned with a frown on her face. Clark swallowed, bracing himself once more. "Lois, we can't do this. Not like this. Remember?"
She spotted him on the other side of the couch and her confusion dissipated, immediately replaced with a goofy smile and a sultry spark. "Hey, come back here."
He shook his head petulantly and took a step back from her. "No."
Lois sauntered towards him, skating a finger across the leather of his couch with an overly pronounced pout. "No? Why no? Isn't this what you wanted?"
He groaned and tripped over his coffee table, stumbling slightly as he regained his footing. "Lois... Oh, Lois, I never imagined I'd say these words to you. I love you. But I can't in good conscience allow you to do this. As much as I want to— god, do I want to— you'll hate yourself in the morning, and I'll hate myself for making you hate yourself, and it'll be a whole thing."
"But I want you, Clark."
Clark slapped his hands over his face and moaned into them. "I hope to death that's true, but I still can't take advantage."
"I'm giving you the advantage," she whispered, a spark in her eyes, and Clark almost jumped. She'd gotten too close again.
He rolled his head back on an exaggerated eye roll before clutching her face and kissing her again. He didn't let her take control this time, firmly guiding her back towards his bedroom. She stumbled a little in her gold stilettos and Clark swept her into his arms. Lois wrapped both legs around his waist as he carried her off, and he moaned again, wished he hadn't picked her up in the first place. Despair furrowed his brow and tugged at his heart. She was going to kill him with this, and he'd still never get this close to her again. The dream come true was fast becoming a nightmare.
His knees hit the edge of his mattress and he sunk down gently, hovering slightly so as to not crush her against his bed. She fisted his hair and he tousled his fingers through hers as he swept his tongue between her lips once more. And once more. And then once more again.
He wrenched himself away from her lips before he got too carried away. He pulled off of her body and resettled his glasses on his face.
"Don't stop," she murmured hazily. "Come back here."
He pushed her hands off his shirttails and gave her a smirk. "I just have to grab something real quick. I'll be back."
Lois' eyes brightened with enthusiasm and her teeth sunk into her lower lip. "Is it a fun something?"
He grinned mischievously even as his heart tugged at him again. "Maybe."
She practically pushed him away to go get it, and Clark closed the door to his bedroom behind him. He made it all of three steps before he slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't this have happened yesterday? She was going to kill him, with her sexy, tousled dark locks spread over his black bedspread and her smudged, smokey eyes and her sinfully long legs latched around his waist...
Clark ran his fingers through his hair, shaking it loose. He had to get out of here. He was bound to make a mistake if he was stuck in this apartment with Lois Lane for a moment longer. His eyes darted over to his bedroom door and wondered how long she'd wait for him before she stirred up trouble again.
He didn't think about it for long, instead bolting out the window in his Suit. He had to get to the bottom of this. The cool air dragging across his body as he flew helped slough off some of the heated effects he'd been feeling. Rational thought began to resurface in his mind again, and he remembered the blonde woman's similar reaction to him earlier. He arched through the air and changed course for the apartment fire he'd put out.
His red boots touched down on the balcony gently and he tapped on the glass door. He tilted his head to listen to the shuffling noises. The curtain opened a smidge and a smallish, portly man peered out. Clark frowned. The man seemed just as surprised to see the man of steel on his balcony as Clark was to see him instead of the woman he'd rescued earlier. The curtain slid closed again, and it took a few seconds too long for it to open. Clark leaned forward and knocked on the door more firmly this time. He peered through the curtains to see the man pacing nervously, sweat beading on his forehead, and Clark put his guard up. There was definitely something up here.
"Open up. I have some questions for you."
The man blotted his forehead with a handkerchief and pocketed the cloth again before coming to the sliding glass door. “Oh, wow! Come in, please. Mr- uh, can I call you-- sir, or uh… Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Clark crossed the threshold with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He pressed his lips together and darted his eyes around the room for any other signs of life or a possible threat, but he came up empty handed. He shot his host a taut smile. "Sorry for the intrusion. I just figured I'd stop by one more time and make sure everything was okay."
The gleam of fear disappeared from the older man's eyes and was replaced by glassy eyed confusion. "One more time?"
"There was a small fire here earlier. Your... wife called for help—"
"I don't have a wife."
Clark shook his head with a smirk. "Sorry. Girlfriend maybe—"
"No, you're misunderstanding. I'm single. I live alone."
Those three words keyed him up again, and Clark took a step back. "What?"
"And besides which, I was out of the house all day. I just got home. I work at the Beckworth Orphanage, y-you can check with my employers."
His eyes snapped up to meet the bumbling man's gaze. "Beckworth?"
"Yeah. Did you say there was a fire here?"
Clark walked around without answering, combing every inch of the apartment with his x-ray vision. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. There was something he was missing here, some connection... He spotted a diploma hanging on the wall in the next room and got his name. "Dr. Carlton, is it?"
"That's right."
His heart pounded in his chest and he tried to project an aura of calm. He continued searching the apartment. "And what do you do for the Beckworth School?"
"Oh, I'm basically a glorified school nurse. Although I do also offer psychological counseling to the students who need it."
He nodded and turned back to face the man. "Ever speak with Ines Valdez?" Dr. Carlton went pale as a sheet. "Or maybe you're more familiar with her sister, Aymee."
The doctor's voice was a rasp when he spoke. "How do you know those names?"
He grinned viciously and took a step towards the smaller man. "I think we need to have a little chat."
