Chapter 50:
The yellow tape stared back at her fearlessly. As though they were locked in some staring contest to the death, and Lois was losing. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She could do this. Her place had been broken into on multiple occasions before. Hence her intricate system of locks. She didn't know why this one felt so different.
She shifted on her feet. She did know the difference. This one was about Lucy. And was perpetrated by Lex. The level of betrayal and violation was instrumentally worse.
Eyes forward and head held high, she strode forward firmly through the tape and into her apartment. Signs of Henderson were all over the apartment, from the little yellow number tags to the way some things had been stacked and catalogued. She fought the twist in her stomach as she absorbed it all again. It was still a mess, possibly even more so now than it had been when she'd left it. She set her purse down on the corner of her couch, about the only surface left uncovered and felt the finality creep in around her.
Poor Lucy.
She shook herself and carefully trod to her kitchen. She couldn't think about it right now. She couldn't think about how her sister had been ripped from her home, held against her will, and possibly changed forever. She couldn't think about how Lex was responsible, that it was all some ploy to win her back. She couldn't think about Clark being--
"Dammit!"
The puddle of water at the base of her fridge had her cursing a blue streak under her breath and she scrambled to where her freezer door was slightly ajar. She opened it wide and stared at the melted disaster, particularly dismayed at the chocolate ice cream dripping down the side of the door. Lois tossed her hands up with a mirthless laugh. "Perfect. Just perfect."
She shut the door firmly on that disaster, saving it for another day.
Her poor sister. God, how awful a person was she? She was gone for days, chasing after Kent, when she already had a boyfriend. Not a second thought about her kid sister. Or Lex. Even though she knew Lex was a bad guy and she should have been keeping an eye out for him.
"You were affected by the drugs. You weren't in your right mind. You can't possibly blame yourself for that."
Clark's voice soothed her in her mind, but she pushed it staunchly away. She didn't deserve soothing or pity or excuses. Besides, it was really his fault anyway. If he wasn't off playing hero, she never would have been exposed to the love potion to begin with.
"Kent," she spat the name out irritably, simultaneously forcing down the fluttering in her stomach at the name, and paced back across her kitchen. This whole time, he had been lying to her. Were there no honest men left in the world, or did she just seem to attract all the crappy ones? At least Clark's excuse was a noble one. Lois swore and wiped her shaky, clammy hands on her slacks. She needed another cigarette to process this. She had to get her nerves under control.
She searched through her purse frantically, cursing when she couldn't find anything. Her hands flew across the contents of her purse, shoving a cylinder of lipstick aside, shaking past her keys, receipts and a pack of gum. Her heart in her throat, she emptied her purse onto the floor, adding to the mess. No cigarettes. She clutched at her hair and tried to breathe deeply.
She flung open the door to the kitchen cabinet with gusto and poked around. She inspected the shelf with a critical eye. No cigarettes. Damn, where had she left them? Her heart started pounding as the events of the past day— was it two days?— finally crashed over her in a rush. She chewed her fingernail and desperately tried to think where else she might have any hidden.
She would have found it by now, if Nigel hadn't already.
"Oh God," she cupped her face in her hands and sank into the only upright chair in her kitchen. She smoothed her hands across her brows to press at her temples. Her fingers were shaking. She pushed harder trying to still her digits from pressure alone.
It was all wrong, so very wrong. Anger welled up inside her, and in the span of a few breaths, she got up and crossed the kitchen to grab her phone and dial a number she knew by heart. She seethed as the dial tone went through, teeth grinding and fingers drilling into the counter.
The beep of the answering machine filled her with more rage, and she spat his name into the receiver like a curse. "Lex. You— I can't believe— I..." she swept her hair back heavily and braced a hand against her brow. "I don't have the words for how angry I am right now. I don't understand what's going on anymore... All I know is I'm through. The lies, the deception, the kidnapping my sister and trying to poison me with a love drug— I refuse to subject myself to this any longer. And you can make all the excuses you want, but we were over long before Kent came into our lives. You're a monster, and someday you'll get what's—"
The beep of the machine cut her off, and she frowned at the handset. Dumb timer. She hung up the phone and tossed it onto her counter. Fine. Better that the threats weren't recorded anyway. If she'd learned anything from her father, it was how to shake an investigation. Nothing in writing, nothing recorded. No visible bruising. No papertrail to be seen, just in case.
Lois shook her head and closed her eyes again, trying to summon some amount of peace. She was spiraling and she was spiraling fast. She just wished someone was there to catch her when she inevitably fell.
Clark's warm brown eyes flashed across her brain and her heart fluttered a moment before she batted the imagery away. She couldn't possibly be thinking about that right now. It didn't matter that he was the only shred of calm in her life, that his lips sealed against hers washed away the rest of the world. It didn't matter that his eyes connected with hers on a spiritual level, or that his knowing smirks were highlighted by the little mole resting over his lip, or the fact that his tights left absolutely nothing to the imagination and he was drop dead gorgeous....
And he cared. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, because he actually cared. And right now, she needed somebody else to care. Because she couldn't spend another moment caring for herself without losing it.
That kiss had been wonderful. She breathed in deeply and grounded herself in the memory of his lips against hers on that rooftop, trying to calm herself. She knew what she had to do.
*****LnC*****
The space of his apartment seemed grossly oversized tonight. Clark entered the space with a sigh trapped in his chest, unable to completely release it. Something felt off, like maybe he'd missed something, some small aspect that was going to screw everything up. He racked his brain for any detail of the past few days that might have thrown him off track. They'd found Lucy, and she didn't appear to have any inside information on him from Nigel. Which was good. That meant Nigel hadn't said anything in front of her, which meant Miranda also didn't know.
Luthor's thoughts would remain to be seen.
Nigel escaping hadn't been the plan. He would have to be dealt with, and quickly. Nigel was a pendulum swinging over his head. He didn't know how much longer he could escape unscathed.
And he'd gotten so close with Lois, too. Shame.
His footsteps fell heavily and echoed loudly, the only sound in the silent loft, but he was in no mood to fly. He should have been. He should have been quite literally over the moon, ecstatic. Because Lois had kissed him; of her own free will, and with purpose. Sure, he'd cherish the hot and heavy makeout session with under-the-influence-Lois for as long as he lived— logged in a very sexy, twisted mental file he could call upon when needed— but ecstatic he was not. The only thing he could think about was time and how little he had left of it.
He turned the corner to his bedroom and even that seemed cavernous. For as much of a mess Lois had made in it, it still felt empty, the items strewn about farther and farther apart from each other. Clark sped around the room and righted everything to its proper homes. A small smile pulled at his mouth. She'd just been so mad, she told him. She'd felt so maligned by him shipping her off like some "damsel in distress" that she'd lost it. She went to his room, went in search of something she could blackmail him with, write a scathing story about, and found more than enough.
Her words.
He thanked his lucky stars that the room she'd chosen to ransack was his bedroom and not his office. As bad as it was with her finding out he was a literal hero, the other thing would have been way worse. Then he'd really be on his own.
He looked about himself and realized he was alone anyway.
Clark scrubbed his hands over his face and flopped onto his bed. The carousel was spinning now, and he wasn't the one turning it anymore. Time to jump off or ride it out.
Lead settled in his belly at the prospect of having to make a decision.
He couldn't turn back now. He was in over his head anyway. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop. Luthor was so close to being done for that he could taste it. It tasted like blood in his mouth. It tasted like victory. He wanted so badly for Lex Luthor to pay for what he did. For his father. For his mother. For Lana. For himself.
He was so. Damn. Close.
But for the first time, Clark realized that he might just end up over the cliff with him.
He slammed his fists against his forehead forcefully, eyes squeezed shut. He had to get out of here. He was losing it, locked up with his own thoughts. Clark liked to make sure he wasn't alone with his thoughts often.
The ding of his elevator chimed softly, and in a flash he was at the doors, fully alert. What if it was Nigel, or the police, or Lex— no, he rationalized. It couldn't be any of them. Maurice would have phoned to alert him. He didn't have long to panic though because the doors slid open and there was Lois Lane.
His heart skipped a beat before landing back into a steady rhythm, and he rocked back on his heels, hands fisted in his back pockets. "Lois! What... what are you doing here?"
She seemed as taken aback by his sudden presence as he was hers, and took a moment to gather herself before stepping off the elevator.
"I thought you were heading home?"
"I was. I did." She took a deep breath and locked her eyes on his. Clark swallowed, and a thousand reasons for her visit raced through his mind. "Look, let me— just— let me. Okay?"
He nodded wordlessly, begging silently for her to get on with it.
"I... I'm not a damsel in distress. Okay? You should know me well enough by now to know that. And I'll be damned if you think I'm anything less than a strong, capable, independent woman. You might be the one with the superpowers, but I could be a superhero in my own right just by sheer force of will. So don't get on my bad side, got it?"
“Got it.” Clark nodded fiercely, fighting the small smirk that was threatening his lips and the tightening in his stomach. “You’re already a superhero.”
A flicker of a smile crossed her lips before disappearing and she huffed, “Damn straight,”
The imagery in his brain teased him with thoughts of Lois in spandex and thigh-high boots. He knew he was already on uneven ground but the temptation was too much to bear, “What would you go by, Ultragirl?” A smile curved on his lips as he continued, “Huntress? Dream Girl?”
“Woman,” she corrected.
“Right, Ultrawoman,” he licked his lips at the mental image in his brain, “I’m sure I can find you some nice thigh-high boots and a scrap or two of spandex--”
"Kent."
“Hmm?” She broke him away from his increasingly lustful thoughts, and he smiled at her innocently.
“We’re not into roleplaying territory yet, pal.”
Scorching fire zipped through his veins and he bit down on his lip hard, because yet... “Understood.”
"And I'm not anybody's Ultrawoman anyways. I can take care of myself. I can protect myself. And it takes a little more than a measly break-in to rattle Lois Lane."
"Of course."
She eyed him carefully a few long seconds. "Good. Now, that being said, on a completely unrelated note... My apartment is a little depressing right now, and I don't want to be alone with my thoughts or I might track down Lex and murder him myself... So can I crash here?"
A small laugh bubbled up in his throat at the fact that their trains of thought were running on parallel tracks. She shot him a sharp glare and tightened her grip on the duffel bag he just realized she was carrying on her shoulder. He raised his hands defensively. "Sorry. I'm not laughing. Strong, independent woman."
She looked at him pointedly.
"Yes! Of course. Make yourself at home."
She glared at him suspiciously as she walked past him into the space, making sure to hip-check him with her duffle bag. He chuckled at her as he followed, the room already feeling more full from her presence alone.
Lois unceremoniously dropped her bag on his couch and he caught himself laughing again. "What are you doing?"
She looked at him like he'd grown an extra head. "I like you and all Kent, but I doubt I should be sleeping in your bed already. Your couch is sinfully comfortable anyway."
Bloodflow switched tracks once again and Clark cleared his throat nervously while stepping smoothly behind his recliner chair. "Uhh, no. I just meant— there's more than enough space for you in here. I can show you to a guest bedroom?"
It was her turn to look sheepish and confused, a blush crawling across her delicate features and sending his heart on a roller coaster again. He grabbed her bag for her— considerably overpacked— and gestured for her to follow him.
Clark set her bag gently on the neutral toned bedspread, turning to her with an equally neutral smile as she observed the room. "Well. Here we are. Like I said, make yourself at home. You're welcome here anytime, so I genuinely mean that." She hardly acknowledged him, instead walking around him distractedly and wringing her hands. He noted the action with a hint of confusion. "Is there anything else I can do for you? I can, uh, get you something to drink, or a sleeping pill, or something to eat?"
Lois shut her eyes and shook her head firmly. "No, I'll be fine, thanks."
He looked askance at her dubiously but shot her a shy smile. "Okay. Just let me know if there's anything you need." He landed his fist in his other palm, unsure of himself for the first time in a long time and he slowly turned around.
"Oh, there is one other thing..."
He turned back on his heel with a question in his eyes, and suddenly he found his arms full of Lois Lane as she launched herself at him. Surprise sliced through him as she slammed her lips against his. His arms came up around her slowly as he processed what was happening, and he pulled her tight against him. Her lips were soft and plump and her breath was hot against his as he pulled back from her gently. "Lois—"
"Shut up."
"You're—"
She cut off his question with another kiss and the wrap of her arms around his neck. Her lithe body draped against him gloriously, and Clark shivered. She was perfect. Her breasts pressed into him. Her tongue in his mouth. Her fingers threading through his hair.
His fingers grazed her skin where her shirt rode up, and a tingle of anticipation ran through him. He slid a possessive hand underneath the material up to her ribcage and held her firmly while his other hand skated down to the jut of her hipbone. The swell of her unfettered flesh rested against his knuckle and he groaned. Oh, God. She wasn't wearing a bra? He hesitated half a second before reaching up to take hold of the tender flesh and squeezed, wrenching a harsh gasp from her throat and she tore her lips away.
She couldn't do this to him again. There was only so much a man could take, super or not. He refrained from kissing her again to ask her what he wanted to know. "Lex?"
She shook her head fiercely, a fire burning in her eyes. "Nope."
And with one word, hope filled him again, and he slanted his mouth against hers passionately. He walked her back into the wall and pinned her with his body. She gave as good as she got. Legs twined around his hips, arms snuggly wrapped around his neck and fingers gripping his hair tightly, a little forcefully. He adjusted her position against him, hands on her hips, and his eyes fluttered shut. "Mmm. Lois..."
She gripped his locks and forced his head back, scraping her teeth sharply against his jaw, and he groaned. It was a delicious contrast to the slow, steady roll of her hips. He untangled her arms from his neck and pinned them against the wall above her head, taking back control. She shivered against him, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"I take it back," she panted, breath brushing hot and sticky against the side of his face. "Your bed might not be such a bad idea after all."
Clark huffed a laugh across her skin. In a flash, he raced them across the loft to his bedroom, and Lois' delighted squeal chased them all the way to his mattress.
