Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
Here Part 25 Part 26*************
Daddy Dearest*************
“Boxing?” Lois snapped, jumping to her feet.
“It’s not just ‘boxing’. It’s
the ultimate street fight. It’s the fight card of the century, Lois, and it’s right here in Metropolis,” coaxed her boss.
“Perry, it’s still boxing.”
“It’s a civic event,” Perry said.
“This is punishment for taking all your money at poker last night,” Lois retorted, pointing at him.
He grinned. “Don’t you know, Lois, when I want to punish you, I partner you with Kent?”
She pressed her lips together, not appreciating his joke. Partner up with Chuck or cover a sporting event,
this sporting event, it seemed like a draw torture-wise. Different types of torture, but still painful.
“I could always partner you two up on this,” the Chief suggested.
Lois held up her hand. “No thanks.”
He chuckled. “You guys make quite a team. I’ve always thought so. Prometheus…”
“Messenger,” Lois mumbled.
“Superman, Bureau 39, the Invisible Man,” continued Perry as if she hadn’t spoken. “Some of the best-read stories we had all summer.”
“Actually, Perry, Kent does better on his own,” she said, deciding to stop this train before it left the station. “We never would have done that nursing home series of his, if I had been onboard. I don’t have the patience for those mood pieces.”
“It wasn’t a mood piece, Lois. It was a good bit of investigative work on the treatment of the elderly,” Perry responded, leaning back in his office chair. “It could have been nominated for a Kerth if it hadn’t missed the July 1st cut off. Well, there’s always next year.”
Lois looked at the ceiling.
Like the Kerth committee will remember the nursing home series a year from now when many of my stories are going to bury it.“How about that series he did on the different cultural neighborhoods within Metropolis? How their culture and history has influenced the Metropolis of today,” Lois countered. “Are you going to tell me
that wasn’t a mood piece?”
Perry shrugged. Point to her.
Lois conceded that her basic grasp of Spanish, her only foreign language, would’ve been worthless on a story like that, just as her lack of French in the Congo had made her dependent on others to translate. Who knew Clark spoke so many languages? Even Chinese? Was there anything that man couldn’t do?
“Yes, but I doubt Kent would have allowed himself to get caught by Barnes’ gang…”
“That wasn’t intentional,” Lois defended.
Perry raised a brow as if to say ‘was it ever?’
“He never would have been able to infiltrate the Roller Derby Girls theft ring that had stymied the feds for months,” she argued with a smile, trying and failing to picture Clark in roller derby drag. He was just too much of a man.
Don’t let your mind go there, Lane. Her arm still acted up whenever she felt like giving someone a good elbow in the gut.
“Having Kent as your partner, you probably wouldn’t have needed to get rescued by Superman when you snuck into the chemical plant,” Perry went on.
Lois wished he hadn’t brought up
that event. She had found some confidential files in Lex’s office about a company he had been considering buying, on how they were importing substandard chemicals. She discovered that the company was diluting their solutions causing lower grade plastics which melted microscopic amounts of plastic into food when microwaved. She couldn’t use her microwave for a week after that, but then necessity and hunger broke through this minor fear.
The only reason that she had
required Superman’s help that time was because he had decided that her hiding spot outside the plant manager’s office wasn’t good enough, and he had to burst in to save the day. She pressed her lips together. That argument was still keeping the two of them apart.
With Superman, she had all the gooey fruit-flavored center of an overprotective boyfriend without all the chocolaty goodness that was an actual boyfriend. Heaven forbid they made it official that they loved each other, even in private. How many times had they almost kissed recently only to have him ‘called’ away? It was a convenient excuse, she believed, and highly unfair being that she didn’t have super hearing to verify the claims. He was so trustworthy; she just couldn’t see him breaking his ‘no lying’ rule only with her.
More and more recently, Superman kept telling her that she needed to move on with her life, try to forget about him as more than a friend, and then he would swoop in and save her bacon once again. Superman would look at her with those sad eyes that told her that he was having as much difficulty with their ambiguous relationship as she was and they would be back at square one again.
True, it took the Derby Girls discovering that she was a journalist and holding her hostage in the back of their abandoned roller-rink hideout for eighteen hours, before Lois had agreed to leave word on Clark’s home answering machine whenever she was going to do some investigating on her own. Superman had requested for his peace of mind that someone always knew where she was. She tried to renegotiate the terms to the two Jimmys or even Perry. She had suggested that Superman could just tell her how to contact him directly like Chuck did, but nooooooooo. It
had to be Clark, someone who knew how to direct dial Superman, someone who she was attracted to, and yet, someone who – after almost three months of knowing him – still gave off this weird vibe. Lois wondered about that telepathic chip she had theorized about a couple of weeks ago, but she felt too embarrassed about bringing up such an insane sci-fi idea to Superman in case she was way off base.
She and Clark hadn’t really spoken since that night. They had
spoken, of course; they did work in the same office after all, but she had made sure they were never alone after she discovered that Clark might have the ability to cause her to cheat on Superman.
Her father had been a cheater, and she refused to ever go down that path. With her luck, such a trait was hereditary. That was why, even though she missed their little chit-chats and all-encompassing sympathy hugs, Lois refused to go to Clark anymore on the rare occasions she and Superman argued about their lack of a relationship. Actually, since that night, she had been seeing less of Superman as well. She had been doing well at staying away from the jaws of death, and Superman was doing a better job of not swooping in rescuing her from every bee that flew in her direction.
For some annoying reason, Lois couldn’t get off her mind Clark’s strange reaction to her request that he try her ice cream. He had taken it personally and then literally kissed her goodbye. The man had more willpower than Superman. There was just something suspicious about a person who didn’t like chocolate, but Lois figured there was more to this story than Clark was telling her. He had made himself more mysterious, which naturally made him even more attractive.
Lois wanted to trust Clark, really she did, but how could she trust someone she knew was lying to her? She just wished she knew how she knew. It seemed ridiculous that she couldn’t trust the one man Superman trusted more than her. Now that she acknowledged that she was attracted to Clark, trusting him seemed more important to their relationship. Not that she and Clark had any sort of relationship; she had made sure of that, but how could she not trust a man she was half in love with? It didn’t make any sense.
Clark had been relegated to the position of irritating best friend of your boyfriend, who you couldn’t stand to be around, but was part and parcel to the package. Again, she was stuck with Chuck, but wasn’t getting any of the positive aspects of being in a relationship with Superman. Lois still got the occasional private hug, the lift home, and the bi-weekly rescue from Superman, but no kisses, no dates, and no personal time that lasted longer than a couple of minutes.
After the fiasco at the chemical plant – well, it had been a fiasco in
her opinion, even though she had gotten the front page story and the plant shut down – Lois had drawn the line with Superman. He was no longer allowed to ‘rescue’ her unless her life was in mortal peril, or she called to him specifically for help, or if she used the code word ‘octopus’. His response? He cared for her too much to place any restrictions on saving her. How was she supposed to argue against that?
Every time she and Superman had an argument about her safety versus their happiness, Lois would get angry at him, and when she got angry at Superman, she would accept another date with Lex to punish him. Okay, it wasn’t that often. In the past two months, she and Lex had eaten lunch or dinner together a couple of times, attended some musical choral thing at the Luthor Opera house, and gone to some charity art exhibit opening at a museum. Lex was charming and interested, and best of all they
never argued. It was refreshing. Of course, he did have that billionaire vibe to him. The ‘snap his fingers and make someone jump’ trait as Chuck called it once when Lex had shown up at the newsroom to meet her for lunch.
Clark really hated Lex and made no bones about it. So, dating Lex also gave her the extra bonus prize of annoying Clark. She didn’t want to annoy him per se, but as long as she dated Lex, Clark was less likely to talk to her. She really loved talking to Clark, because unlike every other man on planet Earth, he actually listened and responded to what she had to say. Her ex-partner had asked her once, before their blow-up about the ice cream, what she saw in the billionaire, or more accurately: “How in the world can you date
that guy?”
She had told him that Lex introduced her to people who never would have returned her phone calls otherwise, he was charming, and had many interesting stories, but it was mostly that when he wanted to go out with her, he asked her out. It was that simple. Lois omitted the fact that Superman hated it when she went out with Lex, which really was the only reason she went out with the man.
Clark had looked at her with what she was starting to call his haunted expression. That was when she remembered the last time Clark had asked her out, to join him for lunch as colleagues, she had turned him down. He had wanted to be more than friends, friendly co-workers, acquaintances, any relationship she would give him, except liaison between her and Superman. He had accepted the role reluctantly as it was the only one she would allow him, but she could see that his heart wasn’t in it. He had been the only person she could talk to about her non-relationship with Superman, because he was the only person who knew about it. Now, even that was off the table.
Lois knew Clark hated this new role she had assigned him as non-friend, but she couldn’t give him more. She would
not cheat on Superman, and Clark was too much of a temptation for her. There was something about Clark that drew her in, but at the same time repelled her. He was an enigma, and that in itself made him irresistible.
So, there had been no private discussions about Superman, no partnering up, and no comfort from her non-boyfriend’s best friend for the past two weeks. If Lucy thought she had been miserable before, HA! That was nothing compared to how she felt now.
Lois realized that Perry was still going on about what a great team she and Clark would make if they could just stand to be in the same room together. He had even started in on the required Elvis story analogy. She held up her hand and decided to move the conversation back to the topic at hand, her new assignment.
“It’s sports, and I don’t cover sports and you know it,” she announced.
Perry countered by holding up both of his hands. “Lois, just do the story.”
She harrumphed and turned to leave when another thought struck her. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with my
connections, would it?”
“Oh?” Perry put on the worst innocent expression she had ever seen. “You have a connection to boxing?”
“You know I do,” she snapped.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said with a gloating smile and a snap of his fingers. “How
is your father, Lois?”
Lois pursed her lips together and nodded at him. She
knew it! He had assigned her this story because of her father. Turning around, she marched out of Perry’s office. Oh, why was every man in her life bent on exasperating her? She passed James and Jimbo standing nearby her desk as she grabbed her briefcase. “Jimmy, you’re with me.”
They both looked at her, dumbfounded. Oh, geez, she really couldn’t stand this duality any longer.
“James! And bring your camera.” Ever since she heard Jimbo praise his cousin for standing up and refusing to gossip about her and Clark, she had a new found respect for the fledgling photographer.
***
Lois gazed at Jimmy up in that ring with Tommy “The Torturer” Garrison and regretted coaxing him to go. She was the reporter. She
should have gone, but Tommy refused to fight a woman.
“Okay, Jimmy, why don’t you get down from there,” she suggested as her photographer barely stepped away from Tommy’s last punch.
“You just sent me up here,” he reminded her, not taking his eyes off Tommy.
That was before Lois realized that the boxer was nuts and really was going to hit him.
Great, Lane, save him from dying in the Messenger hanger only to get him killed in a boxing ring.“Allie, he’s just playing with him, isn’t he?” she asked the old friend of her father’s and the trainer at Menken’s Gym. Allie shrugged, which made her feel even worse about Jimmy’s chances.
“Go ahead! Listen to the little woman,” taunted Tommy.
“Let me up there!” Lois said, climbing on the ropes.
Allie grabbed her waist to stop her.
“Lo-is!” groaned Jimmy with embarrassment.
“Better do what she says, little girly man. Wouldn’t want to make Mommy mad,” said Tommy.
Lois reached into the ring to grab Jimmy’s shirt and pull him out, but Jimmy turned at the last second and threw the worst punch she had ever seen a grown man throw. Two seconds and three lightning fast jabs of Tommy’s gloves to Jimmy’s midsection later, Jimmy was face down on the mat, groaning in pain.
“What’s the matter with you?” she snapped at the Neanderthal as she stepped through the ropes to her friend. “He wasn’t dressed to fight or wearing protective gear.”
“Garrison!” a new voice shouted. “Hit the showers! That’s right, everybody, let’s go!” Max Menken, gym owner, fight promoter, and all-around jerk, climbed into the ring, looking down at Jimmy still sprawled on the mat with little concern. “There’s a reason this gym is closed to the press before a fight. You guys mess with their heads.”
“There was something wrong with his head before we came in here,” Lois retorted as she knelt down beside her friend. “Jimmy?”
Jimmy only groaned in response.
“Are you okay, kid?” asked Allie, leaning into the ring.
“Fine,” Jimmy replied, but Lois figured he was lying since he still hadn’t moved off the mat.
“I guess you can get away with a lot when you’re one of the strongest men in the world,” Lois scoffed at Menken.
“Saturday night you can see them all,” said Menken, who then went into promotion mode. “The
ultimate street fight. The most spectacular night of boxing there ever was, and the winner is going to fight Superman. The eyes of the world, right here, on Metropolis. Write about that!”
Lois looked at Menken skeptically. Superman? Really? “Superman has agreed to this?”
Menken shrugged noncommittally.
She pressed her lips together. She knew Clark introducing Superman to Murray Brown had been a mistake.
“Now, excuse us. The gym is off-limits to the press.” Menken glanced down at Jimmy, still lying prone on the mat. “Someone might get hurt.” He pointed at Allie. “You should have known better.” Menken then left.
Allie gulped and decidedly looked entirely too guilty. “Everybody’s a little nervous. There’s a lot riding on Saturday.”
Lois couldn’t believe Menken. It wasn’t Allie’s fault. He had told Jimmy not to enter the ring. It was
her fault for coaxing him on. She looked back down at Jimmy. “Jimmy?”
“Are they gone, Lois?” Jimmy whispered.
“Just us,” she said.
“
Help.”
“Oh, Jimmy!” Lois said, taking his arm and trying to pull him to a sitting position and failed.
His groans turned sharper at her efforts. “It hurts, Lois. I can’t breathe.”
Allie climbed into the ring. “Show me where, kid.” He felt around Jimmy’s ribs as the photographer changed his grunts to yelps the more it hurt. Allie looked up at Lois. “It looks like he bruised his ribs, Pumpkin, but he’s going to need to see a doctor to make sure.”
“From three punches?” Lois asked, glancing back towards where Garrison and the other boxers had disappeared. Jimmy might be a featherweight but even she knew that Tommy’s punches shouldn’t have caused that much damage. “Grab his other arm, Allie, and help me get him out of the ring.”
“Lois?” her father’s voice said in the silence of the now empty gym. “What brings you here?”
“Hi, Dad,” she said, glancing up to look her father in the face. She couldn’t remember the last time they had talked face-to-face. “The ultimate street fight, interviewing the boxers.”
“Right. Right. Why else?” He nodded, walking up to the edge of the ring and gazed down at Jimmy. “It looks like it has claimed its first victim.”
“Dad, my photographer, Jimmy Olsen. Jimmy, my father, Dr. Sam Lane,” Lois said.
“Doctor?” Jimmy groaned.
Her father climbed into the ring and looked at Allie. “Garrison?”
Allie, with a pained expression, nodded his confirmation.
Sam shook his head. “Let’s take a look.”
“That’s okay, Dad. I’ll just take him to the hospital,” Lois offered instead.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Princess, this is what I do.” He lifted up Jimmy’s oxford shirt to examine his chest, and Lois glanced away. “Well, uh, are you going to have time, Lois, for… uh… for dinner?”
“Uh… Maybe… soon,” she said, putting her father off as she always did. She didn’t really need another lecture on how she had picked the wrong career, about how she hadn’t accomplished anything with her life, about how she was still a disappointment. “I’m really busy, and…”
“Sure,” her father replied.
Lois didn’t think she had convinced him, but even this much contact with him was more than she wanted.
“Looks like you got a couple of cracked ribs there, son. Why don’t you two come back with me to my office and I’ll x-ray them to make sure? In the mean time, let me tape them up for you,” Sam suggested, opening his doctor’s bag.
“Maybe I should just take him to the hospital,” Lois repeated again.
“Lois, don’t worry about it. I’ll put it on Garrison’s tab,” her father said with smile.
“Works for me,” Jimmy groaned in agreement.
When her doctor dad had finished, he stood up. “All right now, Jimmy, let’s get you down to my office.”
“Can’t move,” Jimmy said.
“Sure you can, son. Just remember, the longer you stay here, the more of a chance you’ll have at running into another boxer. They might not like you occupying a corner of their ring,” Sam said. Just like her father, encouraging Jimmy to work through the pain. Hadn’t she heard that argument many times before?
“In that case, move me,” Jimmy said.
Lois took hold of one arm, Allie the other, and they slid him to the edge of the ring. She looked up at her father, a little surprised that he was interrupting his busy schedule to help them. “Thanks, Dad.”
He attempted a smile for her, but it faded away shortly before fully reaching his lips.
***
Clark typed away on his story about the Metropolis’ gangs’ new initiation ritual: throw the newbie into one of the canals leading to the Hob’s River. If they survived then they were in. Superman had been plucking more dead bodies out of canals and the bay lately, most with gang tattoos, and Clark Kent was encouraging City Hall to enact better patrols and fencing around the canals. He was sure once the cooler temperatures set in, this new ritual would be passed over for another one, just as sick. MPD had thought that there was a rash of suicides among gang members for some reason. It had taken weeks, and Superman actually spotting the ritual in action, before MPD acknowledged what was really going on.
The elevator dinged and Clark glanced up. He knew that Lois and James had gone out to Menken’s Gym to do a story on the Ultimate Street Fight. He never really cared for boxing as a sport personally. It was just two guys pummeling one another. Lois and Jimmy had been gone for quite a while, so either they got in trouble or they were able to interview a boxer. He was hoping for the latter, but knowing Lois, the former was more likely. Even so, he wasn’t going to allow himself to go check. She hadn’t screamed, she hadn’t yelled for him, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t said the word ‘octopus’ since the night she told him in no uncertain terms that they could never be together.
The muscles in Clark’s chest clenched as he once again was reminded of her words.
I could never have a relationship with a man who couldn’t eat sweets. Now, he could have taken those words and assumed that Lois was shallow, but he knew she wasn’t, especially after she explained,
I’d feel like a total pig if I was the only one eating sweets in a relationship. It made sense, her being a chocoholic and all.
Clark knew he was being irrational. He knew that his parents hadn’t died because they had run into town to stock up on his favorite junk food. He knew they must have bought other things at the market. He knew that since his father had gone with his mom, they had probably stopped by Smallville Hardware and Feed as well to pick up supplies. He knew he was being irrational. How could he
not know? Lana had told him for years he was being absurd. She hadn’t really cared that he didn’t eat sweets. Lana had been strict about her own diet, so it made her feel better that he wasn’t always pigging out on junk food in front of her like other men.
Towards the end of their preparations for the wedding Lana started to care, very much so. That was when she realized that Clark being unable to eat sweets would totally ruin the whole cake cutting ceremony. Lana had orchestrated their wedding down to the minutest detail. That final week, before he met that Lois who made him Superman, Lana had been on a mission to find a cake that he could eat.
“It’s not poison, Clark, just eat it! If you truly loved me, you would eat it!” she had finally screamed at him.
If she truly loved me, she wouldn’t demand that I eat it, Clark had told himself and then had instantly felt guilty. If she hadn’t loved him, she would never have agreed, insisted, that they get married, and she would never have allowed their relationship to become more intimate.
With a resigned sigh, he had opened his mouth to allow her to shove in a wedge of white cake. Instead of tasting good, the cake smelled like charred flesh and tasted like ash upon his tongue. He ran to the bathroom to spit it out and rinse out his mouth.
Lana had followed him, leaning against the doorframe. “Really, Clark, this behavior is unacceptable. You can eat chili peppers without burning your tongue, so I know you’re just being stubborn. You don’t like the cake, fine, I don’t care, but you’re eating it. I’m going to pick out a cake I like, and you’re going to pretend it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your life. You will
not throw up in front of our guests. You won’t do that to me at our wedding. It’s
my day and I won’t have you ruin it!”
“Yes, dear,” he had murmured, wiping his mouth. He had always hoped that
his wedding day would be something that he could enjoy. The joining of two people, a declaration of love, and the creation of a new family. The wedding she had planned had certainly been for her benefit and her benefit alone.
The next afternoon, Lois Lane had entered the newsroom and kissed him. She had literally saved his life with that kiss, and he would be eternally grateful.
Now, this Lois had drawn the same line in the sand. Clark loved her, he truly did. If he could eat ice cream or cake or candy for her, he would. It was tearing him apart inside that she could accept his super side with no problem, but couldn’t accept this one human personality flaw.
It wasn’t Lois and Jimmy on the elevator, and Clark looked back at his computer, but he couldn’t concentrate on his story again. He needed a break. He walked over to the snack area to pour himself some fresh coffee.
“How you holding up?” Cat asked from the break table where she was eating her daily salad. “You look like someone killed your best friend.”
He had confessed to Cat at lunch last week that Lois had basically told him that it would never happen between them. He hadn’t mentioned the particulars. He was too ashamed. Cat had been sympathetic and hadn’t even tried to seduce him.
“So, what are you going to do? Live your life pining for the girl who got away, or are you going to move on?” Cat asked him as he sat down next to her.
“The former,” Clark admitted with a shrug. “Nothing personal, Cat, but since meeting her, I can’t think of another woman that way.”
“Ouch!” Cat faux gasped with exaggeration. She set her hand down on his. “I guess you’ll just have to be patient and hope she realizes what an idiot she has been and changes her mind.”
“Thanks, Cat,” he replied. He was doubtful of that outcome, but her heartfelt words had eased his current bout of heartache.
Once she had gotten through her pride that Clark would never be hers, Cat had actually become a pleasant companion and good friend.
“Maybe we should concentrate on your life instead of mine for a change,” Clark suggested.
Cat roared with laughter. “My social life is just fine, Clarkie boy. I’m making my way through all the eligible and desirable men in Metropolis. I am extremely satisfied with my life. Thank you very much.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you? Don’t you want to find the one person who fits you to a ‘T’?”
“Honey, I’ve had men who fit me to a ‘T’; it’s one of my favorite positions. I also loved with my capital ‘P’ to their their lowercase ‘d’. I’ve been two peas in a pod, a drawer full of spoons, and have even been ‘forked’, but I wouldn’t recommend that one without stretching first,” Cat said with a slight raise of her top lip. “The only thing I haven’t tried is a great big ‘S’, but a girl has to have goals, or life just becomes monotonous.”
“Keep dreaming, Cat,” Clark responded. “I’m highly doubtful of you ever reaching
that goal.”
“Oh, darling, I’ll never stop dreaming of
that goal,” Cat said with a wink. “Until it’s no longer attainable.”
“Then what will you do once you’ve done all the letters of the alphabet and every number combination known to mankind?” he asked, changing the subject off of Superman.
She shrugged. “Write the modern version of the Kama Sutra?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Somehow, he could picture just that happening. “I’m sorry, Cat.”
She looked confused. “Why?”
Clark patted her hand and stood up. “Because no man will ever get to know that there is more of you than a hot body and a razor sharp mind,” he replied, enjoying the shocked expression his words had upon Cat’s face before he returned to his desk.
He stared at his copy again, rereading what he had written and trying to figure out just how to wrap up the article.
The elevator dinged again and his eyes automatically glanced up. Cat was right; he couldn’t keep pining after Lois, but there she was.
Lois marched into the newsroom from the bank of elevators. Alone. Where was Jimmy? She noticed him watching her and pointed at him.
“You!” she said, and then moved her finger towards the conference room. “Conference room.
Now!”
Clark had no idea how she knew he could hear her, unless… The blood drained from his face. Did she know? Had Lois finally figured out that he was Superman? The thunder in her expression told him that it was a definite possibility.
He had no idea what had given him away. Neither he nor Superman had been anywhere near Lois over the last few days, that she knew about. He wasn’t entirely surprised though. Lois was the smartest person he knew, and he didn’t believe this opinion was biased in the least. She had made more correct intuitive leaps than he had ever seen accomplished by another reporter. True, he had never seen the great Perry White in action. Wouldn’t that have been a sight to see?
Clark decided it probably would be best not to keep Lois waiting.
She was already pacing when he entered the room. “Shut the door.”
He complied.
“How could you?!” she yelled.
“Excuse me?” It was Clark’s policy to always play dumb until he knew what it was Lois was mad at.
“Superman is the headlining feature on Saturday’s Ultimate Street Fight!” she roared.
He was? “I don’t know anything about that, Lois,” he explained, which was the God’s honest truth. He had no idea to what she was referring.
“Well, you’re the one who got him in with Murray Brown.
He must have set it up!”
“Would you like me to call the man and get him to either confirm or deny the rumors?” Clark asked.
“You need to contact Superman and tell him ‘no’. He can’t do it,” Lois demanded.
Clark crossed his arms. He didn’t want to fight or box anyone, except bad guys and those only because they insisted on fighting him, but he also didn’t want Lois to think she could go around telling Superman what he could and couldn’t do. Technically, they still weren’t in an official relationship, and even if they were he didn’t want that type of relationship again. “If Superman has agreed to this, I don’t see what either you or I could say to change his mind,” he countered.
“But he’s so
strong, Clark,” Lois pleaded. “He’s liable to hurt someone, and if he hurt someone – even someone who deserved it like that jerk, Tommy ‘The Torturer’ Garrison – he’d never forgive himself. You don’t know him like I do, Clark, he…” Her voice faded as she looked at him. Her fear for Superman melted into that expression of love which came to her eyes whenever she spoke of Superman, that expression which made it impossible for him ever to say goodbye, that expression which made him fall for her all over again each time he saw it.
Clark’s brow furrowed. “Lois, did something happen at Menken’s Gym?”
Lois waved the incident away as if unimportant, before responding, “Tommy fractured a couple of Jimmy’s ribs.”
“
What?!” Clark really couldn’t let those two go off on their own.
“Tommy invited Jimmy into the ring with him. I didn’t know he was crazy or would actually punch Jimmy, otherwise I never would have… allowed it,” Lois said, her voice breaking. Unexpectedly, she launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Clark. It’s all my fault. I told him to go into the ring. I’m the lead reporter. I should have protected him.”
“Against Tommy Garrison?” Clark said hoarsely, as painful pleasure coursed through him. Pleasure at having her embrace him. Pain in knowing that it was totally circumstantial and probably would never happen again. He hated that it took James getting hurt for him to receive even this little dose of happiness. He needed to stop this course, before he did something he really wanted to do, like kiss her. Maybe if he said something funny, perhaps Lois would reconsider and allow them to be just friends. “Tommy never would have known what hit him.”
Lois slugged him in the arm playfully, and stepped back, looking him in the eye. “He only hit Jimmy three times, Clark. It was unreal,” she said with a shake of her head. “I wish you could have…”
His eyes widened in anticipation of the end of that sentence. Been there? Seen it? Stopped it? What?
She didn’t say anything as she stared at him for a moment, her chest leaning against his, his arms gently resting at the curve of her back. They fit perfectly together.
Her hand moved up from his chest to caress his cheek, her heart rate increasing, but her hand never reached there as she took several steps back as she shook her head. “No. I should go write up my story. Not that there’s anything to write up,” Lois grumbled, practically bolting out the door.
Clark’s gaze followed her leave, wondering what had just happened and wanting very much for it to happen again.
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