Table of Contents ~~~Part 32~~~
Clark moaned lightly and shifted on the bed. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Lois, and his heart did a little jump. She'd stayed.
Or... come with him, rather. Because, apparently, he wasn't in the hospital anymore. She was sitting on the window seat in his apartment. The last of the late afternoon sun was streaming in, bathing her in a golden light as she stared out of the large window. The one that, oddly, wasn't broken anymore. When had that gotten fixed? And how had he gotten back here?
He let his eyes wander, taking in the room slowly. Something was different. It felt different. And it wasn't just the woman sitting quietly across the room and staring out the window.
The same window.
He could almost pick out the very spot he'd landed days ago... Or... he wasn't even sure how long it'd been. How much time had passed since he'd been rooted to his bedroom floor, staring at the one person he never thought he'd meet?
That was something he should know. He ought to remember the day his life changed forever, right? He could remember her. How she'd looked, her face, her hair, her...
Her eyes round with horror because she'd been holding Lois's picture in her hands.
He glanced at the nightstand where she had to have found the frame. It... it was there. Still. Now.
But... she'd...
She must have put it back there. Face down. Just as she'd found it. But why?
Lois turned, then, as if she'd sensed he was awake. She smiled at him and spoke softly. "Hey, you."
He unfurrowed his brow and smiled back. His questions could wait for later. "Hey."
Her face softened as she leaned forward a bit. "How are you feeling? The sun's mostly gone down now, but... Well, you've been sleeping most of the day and all of yesterday and... Perry helped me get you back here. The reporters are still outside, but Perry gave them a warning to stay back. He said he'd be back tomorrow morning. I, uh... it was kind of dirty in here. Dusty. I hope you don't mind... I kinda cleaned a bit and..." She trailed off, seemingly flustered. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm... good, actually." He did feel better. Not super... but better, and the pain in his shoulder had mostly subsided. He chanced moving it an inch. Just a little soreness, but no shooting pains. That was a good sign. He sighed in relief and smiled again at Lois. "Or better, anyway."
"Good." She nodded. "I'm glad. I was... I was a worried there for a bit."
"Me too," he confessed.
Silence crept in around them. It was comfortable, though. Mostly. She was still feeling uneasy. He could feel it.
Because she was worried about him recovering? Or was there more? Like the picture...
The pain wasn't clouding his thinking anymore. And... maybe this was too much for her to handle. The picture might have made her doubt him. Why hadn't he put it away the moment she'd left that night? Why had he stayed up to stare longingly at it and leave it so carelessly behind on the coffee table?
He bit at his bottom lip. Had he ruined everything? Maybe in her silence she was trying to find a way to leave without hurting his feelings. Or she was just waiting until she knew he could fend for himself.
It was done. All over with. No more bad guy. No more danger. No longer a reason for them to work together, be together. She'd said she cared about him... loved him, even. But people said things under stress. Things they didn't mean. The threat of dying hanging overhead... what if that had been the only reason? What if all the heightened emotions and danger and excitement...
Or maybe she'd just been plain scared, needed someone - something - to hold on to. Love was safe. Love meant hope. Love meant you'd survive another day.
And now they'd survived.
She wouldn't need him anymore. Not like he'd come to need her.
She would leave, and all he'd be left with was a picture of the wrong woman.
She was smiling at him when he looked back over. Nervously, though, as if she didn't know what to say. As if she was reading his mind.
"What's the matter, Clark?"
His eyes darted to hers. It was stupid. He shouldn't even be thinking this way. She would have left already if she had wanted to. He should be talking, telling her... something. Everything. "I... n-nothing's wrong."
She saw right through him. "Something's bothering you. I can feel it."
Right. The connection. The small surge of warmth that had taken up residence in his chest. He didn't want to lose that. He didn't want to lose *her*. "I don't want you to go," he whispered.
He heard a whisper of a gasp, and then she was there, next to him. Sitting by his side and holding his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. What makes you think..."
Her eyes were watching him, searching his. He looked down to their joined hands. The truth. She deserved the truth. No more hedging. Hedging wasted time, and that was something he couldn't afford. Not after everything that'd happened.
He took a breath to steady himself. "It's... this is..." He found her eyes again. "I'm afraid... All of this seems too good to be true, and I'm afraid it will all just vanish if I reach for it. And the picture..." He glanced over at it, and her eyes followed his. He heard her breath catch. He faced her again, looked her in the eyes. "I don't want it anymore. I don't need it. I have you... or, at least I hope I have you."
She was quiet, but she didn't let go of his hand. Her heartbeat was thrumming loudly in his ears. Her eyes started glistening, fresh tears forming, threatening, but not falling. "I'm not going anywhere, Clark."
He didn't need to hear her confirmation; he could feel her sense of conviction - commitment - deep in his chest. The threat of tears welled up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. She was staying.
He shouldn't have worried. He hadn't worried. Much. Hadn't doubted. This was his dream come true, right? Literally. Minus the gunshot wound, but Lois... she was here. She was staying. And that's what mattered.
There were so many things he wanted to say, to tell her, to show her... but he couldn't find the words. He searched her eyes, felt his heart pounding in his chest. "Kiss me?"
The edges of her mouth quirked up. She didn't hesitate.
Her lips pressed urgently against his, tasting, exploring. Seconds. Minutes. Hours passed. All he could feel was his heart soaring and her insistent mouth against his own. Her heartbeat resumed its staccato rhythm in his head, flowing through his senses. Her... heartbeat.
He could...
He tore his lips away and gave her a breathless smile. "I'm back."
She trailed her fingertips along the side of his face. "But you haven't gone anywhere."
His smile only grew, and he pulled her to him once more. "Exactly," he murmured against her lips. "Exactly.
***
"Póg mo thón." Elle crossed her arms and mumbled under her breath. This man was nothing if not tedious.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" Henderson almost glared at her. She did her best not to slouch down in her chair and look abashed. He couldn't have known what she'd said...
"Nothing." She sighed. "It's just that we've been at this all bloody day. Didn't you get it written down the first time?" The fewer times she had to go over her connections to the bad guys, the better.
"Ms. Daly, I'm just trying to understand how it is you got involved with my agent in the first place."
"We're not involved!" Damn her cheeks for flushing.
He had the gall to roll his eyes at her. "I mean, what made him think it was okay to bring a civilian into a government operation, risking your life in the process?"
Oh. Right.
She'd known that. "Why don't you ask him? I had trouble getting that answer out of him
myself."
"He's still groggy and incoherent from the surgery and painkillers." He gave her a wry smile. "Now, why don't you tell me again how you two met? There seem to be a few details missing."
She shifted nervously in her seat. He was testing her, wasn't he? She just couldn't figure out for what.
"I curious to know how you, Elle Daly, seemingly innocent gal with no apparent connections to anyone, got mixed up with Lex Luthor. And I’m also curious how this all adds up to you playing sidekick for one of my agents. One, I might add, who has been AWOL for eight months ever since jeopardizing a case we've been working on for years."
That must have been when he'd helped Lois escape. "The one in the Congo?" she asked, sitting up straighter in her chair.
Wait... AWOL? Pete had been AWOL? *Was* AWOL? That couldn't be good...
Henderson straightened abruptly and gave her a slight nod. In fact, the nod was so slight she couldn't be sure if she'd imagined it or not. "Did he *tell* you all this?"
"Uh... no." She cleared her throat.
"Then how did you find out?" He took a step closer.
"I... um... I plead the fifth?" That was what people said in America, right? To get out of incriminating themselves.
He gave an airy chuckle. *Laughed* at her. "You're not on trial here, and you haven't even been placed under arrest. Superman's a good guy to have vouch for you." He gave her a subtle wink.
So... she wasn't in trouble. What was he getting at, then?
She watched him carefully as he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. "Look, Ms. Daly..." He paused and bridged his hands together. "You saved a lot of lives yesterday. And thanks to you we have to keys to start unraveling one of the largest criminal operation I've ever been witness to. There are, however, a lot of holes in this elaborate mess. I think you're the one that can fill them."
TBC... on Wednesday! 
