Table of Contents
From Part 4:Back in his apartment and in the bathroom, he dug out a hand-mirror from the cabinet and arranged himself in front of the wall-mirror. This wasn’t an easy operation, which was the main reason why he did it so infrequently. But Lois was right: working in an environment like the Daily Planet, at the level he did, he was expected to look professional. It wasn’t enough just to be good at his job. And his hair, untouched since his second or third week at the Planet, was now considerably longer than it should be.
Engaging his heat vision, Clark began to manoeuvre its direction, and the direction of the hand mirror, and soon the smell of charred hair tissue began to fill the bathroom as chunks of hair fell to the floor.
*******
Now read on...She had to get a grip on herself, Lois insisted as she wandered around La Senza, having failed to find anything she wanted in Victoria’s Secret. Clark Kent was just her partner. And her friend, of course.
But that was all. He wasn’t a man she was interested in. Okay, sure, he was attractive, and naturally she was paying far more attention to his body today - she had to, since she’d taken on the role of giving him plain-speaking advice on his attire. And so of course that was why she was noticing how well-defined he was, how certain types of clothing had a tendency to fit him like a second skin.
Like those CK jeans... She had to stifle a growl as the image of him standing in front of her wearing that close-fitting black denim engraved itself on her brain. He’d looked stunningly attractive. And when he’d peeled off the T-shirt he’d been wearing in order to try on the polo shirt...
Wow.
Her brain had almost shut down its functions when the shirt had come off; she’d been unable to resist staring at him. Not that it was the first time she’d seen his naked chest, but this... well, somehow it had seemed different. Then, he’d been a new and unwanted partner and she’d been doing her best to try to frighten him off. Now, he was her friend, the man who’d sneaked under her defences and made her, despite all her caution,
like him.
And he was gorgeous.
And he’s in love with someone else, Lois! she told herself sharply.
And
she was in love with Superman, she reminded herself equally quickly. Superman - the hero who had
literally swept her off her feet. Clark simply faded into the distance compared with Superman, didn’t he?
But yet... well, what chance did she have with Superman, really? She’d been giving him signals for months now, and he never seemed to respond to them. She was very sure that he’d understood her signals; he was highly intelligent and seemed well attuned to Earth customs. He’d even kissed her once, in a way which had made her senses reel and taken her breath away. But he hadn’t meant it. He’d been under the influence of the pheromone. Of course, if Clark’s speculation was true, the pheromone simply highlighted an attraction which was already there, which meant that Superman had to be attracted to her. But he had never followed up on that kiss. Which meant that either it had been a fleeting attraction which meant nothing, or that he wasn’t interested in that kind of relationship with anyone.
So, she’d been telling herself for a few weeks now, she really needed to give up on her longing for Superman. It wasn’t going to go anywhere. Find herself a decent, attainable Earth guy, she’d told herself several times. The problem was that decent Earth guys were very hard to come by. And
attainable, unattached ones were non-existent.
Even Clark...
Which was why she should have rejected his suggestion that they go out to dinner that evening. It would feel like a date. It already felt like a date, with his suggestion that they both dress up for the occasion and that she buy something new to match his new outfit. It
wouldn’t be a date. He’d only invited her to thank her for her help today. So there was no point in fantasising...
Fantasising? Lois caught herself up short, dropping her hand from the black lace bra and panty set she’d been fingering, as if it had burned her. Fantasising about
Clark? She had to be crazy. She
was crazy.
Lingerie was one of Lois’s few luxuries; she loved the feel of silk and lace next to her skin, and she kept her favourites carefully wrapped in tissue paper in her bottom drawer. She had bra and panty sets, and camisoles and even teddies, in ivory, cream, cerise, navy-blue and deep bronze silk and satin - but not black. She’d never seen the attraction in black lace. And yet, while she’d been thinking and remembering Clark’s invitation to dinner, she’d been gazing at a black lace set and imagining...
Imagining his eyes darkening as he saw her dressed only in that and nothing else. Visualising the heat in his gaze as he took a step forward. Feeling in her mind the warm touch of his hand on the satin and lace bra, fingers sliding around to find the fastening...
No! She caught herself, breathing heavily as she made herself step back from the rack. This was idiotic! She didn’t think about Clark that way! If there was anyone she wanted to see her in her underwear, it was Superman. Wasn’t it?
Lois forced herself to walk across to the other side of the shop, where warm winter pyjamas were still on display. That was what she needed right now: warm sleepwear, not flimsy, insubstantial underwear.
And yet, when she left La Senza ten minutes later, the attractively-tied bag she carried contained black lace lingerie.
******
His hair looked okay. Well, at least, he thought it did. It was fortunate that he’d stopped before actually finishing his improvised haircut and gone to have a look at some male hair
styles. Not that that had been a simple task; he didn’t exactly have any men’s magazines lying around the apartment. GQ was
not one of his regular reads.
Inspiration had led him to search out the previous weekend’s edition of the Planet, which was still in his recycling bin in the kitchen. Along with the main news section was the glossy magazine - which, he’d remembered, contained several pages of fashion photographs. Men’s fashions, as well as women’s.
And the men in those photographs, he’d reasoned, would have stylish haircuts. Very expensive stylish haircuts.
They did. And at least one of the men had been photographed from a couple of different angles. And so, armed with the magazine, he’d returned to the bathroom; propping it open at the photograph he’d chosen as his model, he’d then resumed melting away his hair. In the end, even if he had to say so himself, he thought he’d done quite a creditable job.
If he ever lost his job as a reporter, he could earn a reasonable living as a men’s hairstylist, he thought with a grin as he tidied away the evidence of his activity.
Right on the hour, having delayed at his apartment to make a reservation for that evening at a little Italian bistro he knew, Clark hurried into Starbucks, searching around for Lois. She was by the coffee display, apparently idly looking at the various flavours available for purchase. She was carrying, he noticed, a La Senza bag, and he felt warm inside again as he wondered what was inside. A hand went involuntarily to his glasses, pulling them slightly down his nose, and he almost engaged his X-ray vision...
Abruptly, he halted, as he realised what he’d been about to do. Lois’s purchases were her own business, especially if they were... uh... intimate apparel. After all, he reminded himself, he’d refused to allow her to choose
his underwear. He owed her the same level of privacy. Ogling her undergarments was
way out of order.
Shoving his glasses back up, he crossed to her side.
“Hey, Lois! Can I get you something? Double mocha?” he offered.
She shook her head. “I don’t like Starbucks coffee, Clark. You know that!”
“Uh...” He frowned, puzzled. “Then why did you suggest meeting in here?”
She shrugged. “It was convenient. And if I’d been late, you could’ve had a coffee, I guess.” She paused, giving him a considering look; then she disconcerted him by walking slowly around him. “Hmmm. Not bad, I suppose,” she told him, and he realised that she’d been assessing his hair. He held his breath; this was the acid test. Had he managed to copy the style he’d chosen convincingly enough? It had looked okay to him, but then, he wasn’t Lois Lane.
“It’s a little ragged at the back, which surprises me,” she said. “That place is supposed to be one of the best in Metropolis. You know, I think we should go back and complain and make them sort it out.”
Before Clark could say a word, Lois had marched out of Starbucks and was halfway across the concourse on the way to Hair Artistry. He managed to grab her arm and slow her down. “Lois, no! Look... uh... let’s just leave it,” he said weakly, as ever short of decent excuses when Lois was around. “I... it’s fine. I’m happy with it. And didn’t you say we have more shopping to do?”
“Clark, they can’t get away with shoddy service!” she insisted. “They charge enough for what they do, after all. It’s customers like you, Clark, who make the service industries believe that they can get away with anything they like. You owe it to their future clients to go back there and make them fix it!”
“Lois, I don’t want to go back there,” he said, as forcefully as he dared. “It’s fine. Please, don’t make a fuss.”
She gave him an impatient look. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know, Kent!”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he acknowledged, giving her a crooked smile. She was letting it drop, and he could relax again. But he resolved to go and find himself a book on hairdressing at the earliest opportunity, to avoid this kind of situation recurring.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, let’s get on with this. I think we need to hit Nordstrom’s again - they didn’t have any shoes in your size at the outlet mall, remember.”
“Wait a minute,” Clark interjected, very grateful for the change of subject. “I see the La Senza bag - but did you find anything to wear tonight? ‘Cause if not, I’d like to help you look for something nice.”
He thought he saw her flush, but then she spoke, and he knew that he had to have imagined it. “
You’d like to help me? No offence, Clark, but I’ve seen your taste in clothes. I really don’t think sludge-coloured plaid would suit me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, brown’s one of your favourite colours, isn’t it, Lois?” he commented, teasing gently in response to what he was sure was her defensiveness. Was she actually embarrassed, he wondered, at the thought of letting him watch her try on clothes just as she’d watched him that morning?
“I don’t really need anything new anyway,” she added firmly. “I have plenty of things suitable for going out to dinner. Come on. Nordstroms is down this aisle.”
Rolling his eyes, Clark fell into step beside her. Shoes it was.
********
Half an hour later, they were on their way out of Nordstrom’s, Clark having parted with yet another three-figure sum and received two pairs of shoes in exchange. He’d muttered grudgingly about the cost, but she’d pointed out to him that good-quality shoes would last considerably longer than cheap ones, and they looked and fit better. He’d pulled a face, mumbling something which sounded like “You don’t know how hard I am on shoes.”
Lost in contemplation of where they needed to go next - she’d decided that Clark needed a decent casual outdoor coat, but Nordstrom’s was really too expensive for that kind of thing - Lois didn’t notice that her companion had halted. His voice calling her name stopped her.
“Clark? What now? We need to get -”
“Lois, take a look at this.” His admiring voice drew her back to him, and she realised that they were just by one of the women’s fashion franchises. One of the lesser-known Italian designer labels, she saw, a company whose clothes she usually liked.
Clark was indicating a dress. It was in a deep, rich blue, in a waistless style, with the hemline cut at an angle. It had plaited spaghetti straps, holding a bodice of loose fabric which, she knew, would sit very attractively - and modestly - around the wearer’s bosom. It was a beautiful dress.
And Clark had picked it out... that alone surprised her. She’d imagined that his taste, like that of most men, would have run to something very short and clinging, in scarlet or black, and with a plunging neckline. This dress fell to mid-calf, and while the cut was semi-sheathlike, it wouldn’t reveal every curve. It would merely hint at them.
He had excellent taste, she acknowledged thoughtfully.
“Try it on?” he suggested, a wistful note in his voice.
About to refuse - she really didn’t need another dress and, however gorgeous this one was, it was bound to be expensive - she hesitated.
She’d got to watch him try on clothes all day and, however much she tried now to convince herself that she was only doing it as a favour and that she had no interest in Clark at all beyond that, it was true that she’d enjoyed the experience. It had been fun watching him appear dressed in clothes she’d chosen for him, even discounting the totally incomprehensible attraction she’d felt for him. Maybe he’d enjoy the satisfaction of getting to see her try on something he’d chosen, she acknowledged.
“Okay,” she agreed, smiling slightly. “I’m just going to try it, though. I won’t be buying it.”
Clark shrugged. “That’s up to you. Uh... what size do you need?”
She told him, he found the right size - fortunately, since there seemed to be only three of that style in the shop - and they went over to the fitting room.
It fitted. Like a glove.
In fact, it was just perfect.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Lois couldn’t manage to stifle a gasp. The dress was so flattering to her figure and the colour was very striking on her. She could just imagine herself in heels, hair up, a gold necklace around her neck and a tiny clutch-bag in her hand, ready for an evening out. She couldn’t remember the last time a mere piece of clothing had made her feel so good about herself.
Shy now, she emerged from the changing-room in search of Clark. He was a few feet away, casually glancing at a rack of women’s separates. But then he turned, as if he’d somehow sensed her presence.
She actually saw his jaw drop. “Wow,” was all he said, his voice soft, admiration in his gaze.
“You like it?” she asked, almost shyly.
“Lois, I love it! You look... you look gorgeous. You take my breath away,” he told her softly, shaking his head slightly.
Now she felt like saying “Wow”. She hadn’t inspired that kind of reaction in a guy since her senior prom night. The expression on Clark’s face told her exactly how good he thought she looked, and she felt herself almost basking in the glow of his admiration.
“I... well, I guess I should consider buying it, then,” she said, even though she’d had no such intention.
“Really? That’s great!” Clark grinned, but then he seemed to catch himself. “Uh... it looks expensive...”
Lois caught the price-tag which hung from the edge of the dress. It was expensive - almost $300. That was a lot of money... but on the other hand, this was a terrific dress. And if it could inspire that kind of reaction in a man, then it was worth every penny. Wasn’t it?
Except the man who’d admired her in it was interested in someone else...
He’s taking you out tonight, a daring, mischievous internal voice told her.
“I can afford it,” she told him confidently. “And I needed a new dress, really. Like you said, I can wear it tonight, right?”
A broad smile curved across her partner’s face. “Right.”
********
“Lois, I really don’t need a leather jacket,” Clark protested, aware that he was fighting a losing battle. She’d insisted on dragging him into Wilson’s after they’d left Nordstrom’s, despite his plaintive suggestion that maybe it was time to go home.
“Clark, you need something decent. I know you have a good woollen overcoat, but that’s not suitable for casual wear. What do you wear when you go out for the evening?”
He shrugged. “Whatever I need. A sweater... maybe a raincoat. And I have a coat, Lois!”
“A beat-up old one you wear around the farm, right?” she threw back at him.
He shrugged. “It’s not that old.”
“At least try one on. In fact...” She looked thoughtful, then said, “You really should get those CK jeans from the car. See what black leather would look like with those.”
Clark couldn’t quite stifle a smile at that. He’d been pretty sure at the time that Lois wasn’t exactly unaffected by the sight of him in those jeans. He still remembered how she’d looked when he’d asked her whether they weren’t too tight. It was almost worth going out to the car to get them...
Imagining himself prowling out of the changing room in the tight jeans, an equally tight black T-shirt and one of those expensive jackets, hair slicked back from his face and his spectacles replaced with a pair of shades. Imagining Lois staring at him, her lips parted, her heart-rate increased, her irises expanded as she took in the sight of him... imagining him reaching out to pull her to him, her coming willingly, pressing herself against his chest so that he could dip his head and kiss her...
Like
that would happen!
Well, okay, she was clearly enjoying the view today. Just as he had when she’d tried on that dress which had made her look even more beautiful. But she’d given no sign that she was interested in anything more. So he shouldn’t start assuming that it did.
“Clark? Are you going to try one on?”
He shook himself out of his thoughts, seeing Lois giving him a faintly impatient glare. “No,” he answered, softening the refusal with a smile. “Lois, I’ve already spent more than I can afford today. And I like the stuff here. Too much. I don’t want to try anything on in case I like it even more.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “Look, next month when I’ve paid off some of today’s purchases, I’ll come back here - you can even come with me if you’d like to give me the benefit of your advice - and I’ll think about buying one.”
“Black leather,” she said instantly. “Not padded or quilted - you don’t need it.”
“I don’t?” Flattered, even though he was well aware of his own musculature, he felt himself blush.
She patted his chest. “No, you don’t.”
Fighting the urge to cover her hand with his own, Clark gave a faint shrug and smiled at her. “If you say so. Anyway, is there anywhere else you have a burning desire to take me, or can we go home now?”
“We can go. Come on.” And, to his amazement, she slid her hand through his arm before leading him out of the shop and back through the mall to the car park.
********
...tbc
