Mystic was perfect, Lois reflected as she looked around her. She sat at a table of an outdoor cafe inside a shopping center called Center City. She'd been in the town for two days and had managed to produce more than fifty pages of her new novel. At this rate, she'd be done in no time. Smiling brightly, she gathered up the remains of her breakfast and rose to leave.
"Thanks, Mrs Nolan," Charlie called out as he left the little gift shop that sold his carvings. Another profitable week provided him with enough money to buy a new pair of jeans. He'd asked Melissa to go to a movie on Saturday and wanted to look nice. She'd turned out to be a really good friend and he enjoyed their time together.
Busy scoping out a place to look for jeans, he failed to see the woman walking directly toward him. She had her head lowered, reading a piece of paper in her hand, completely oblivious to her surroundings. They collided, knocking everything she held to the cement.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," a contrite male voice said at once, as he bent to help gather her papers before they flew off in the breeze.
Lois huffed her indignation as she reached out for some of her strewn papers. "It's okay. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Yeah. Me either." The last of the mess was picked up, and he raised his head to see her. He offered her a smile as he held out the papers he'd recovered.
"Thanks," she told him as she took the offered items, sparing him only a polite glance.
"Are you okay?"
That got her attention. Lois lifted her gaze to see the man before her. Compassionate eyes stared back at her in concern. Gentle hands rested between his legs as he leaned on his bent knees. Smooth, black hair glistened in the sunlight. His smile was partially covered with a full, neatly trimmed beard. There were faint lines reaching out to touch the corners of his eyes, but it didn't take away from his overall beauty. And he was beautiful. Built large, she was certain he was incredibly strong, yet he looked just as graceful. His thin, loud shirt hung open down the front allowing her to see a very sculpted torso underneath the tight tank top he wore. White cotton pants were rolled half way up his calves and he wore brown loafers without socks. For a brief moment Lois was reminded of her partner.
"Miss?" he asked again when she failed to answer his first question. "Are you all right?" His smile faded to concern as she continued to stare at him, a blank expression on her face.
His voice... It sounded a lot like her partner's. Another glance revealed compassionate, brown eyes.
<Clark had brown eyes.>
Again, her eyes skimmed the man's features. A strong jaw, silky black hair, and those eyes... It all reminded her so much of her partner. Was it possible this man was...?
<No way! He couldn't be... Could he?>
Lois looked closer, but struggled to make a connection with the man before her and her best friend. For the life of her, she suddenly couldn't recall what Clark had looked liked-- the details. He was never far from her heart, but she'd long ago stopped dwelling on her memories of him because it was just too painful. And now she discovered that his features had blurred in her mind. How had she managed to retain the beauty and not the precision?
Surely she was just missing Clark today. That had to be why this man reminded her so much of him. She never seen her partner as relaxed as the man before her. The clothes, the hair, his very presence was so un-Clark like. Yet, her best friend was all she could think of as she stared at the stranger.
"Miss?" He sounded worried. "Did I hurt you?"
Seeing the concern on his face, Lois shook away her thoughts to answer him. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I just... you look like someone I once knew." She opted to tell him the truth, realizing there was something about this man that automatically seemed to relax her.
He smiled again. "I'm glad you're okay. Let me help you up." He stood, his hand grasping her elbow, tugging her up with him.
"Thank you," Lois said, her eyes still glued to him and her arm was humming where he made contact. The warmth from his hand seemed to radiate throughout her body.
<Even his touch reminds me of Clark.> Lois might be having trouble recalling his features, but there was no way she could forget Clark's touch. He had been soft, gentle. The first time his hand had made contact with her skin it had shocked her beyond belief. Never before had anyone's touch affected her in such a way. As they'd gotten to know one another, she often found it hard to resist laying her hand on his chest or touching his arm. His nearness had always been comforting, even if she hadn't realized all that until it was way too late.
She had to stop doing that, she reprimanded herself silently. <Everyone you meet is not Clark.> She had to be missing him a lot, that's all.
"You're welcome."
Lois could tell that the man was as reluctant to walk away as she was. Her conscience screamed at her not to let that happen. She didn't even know his name. "You should let me buy you a drink to repay you for your kindness. Not many people would have bothered to ask if I was okay after bumping into me," she said hurriedly.
He held her gaze for a long moment, almost as if he was focusing on her for the first time. His dark eyes held hers captive; she had the oddest feeling that he was branding her to memory.
"I'd like that," he finally answered. Was it her imagination or did he sound as thrown off as she was? "But we should make it coffee at..." He looked down at his watch. "... 9 am."
She laughed softly, suddenly feeling very shy and off center. It was sheer craziness to be imaging a total stranger could possibly be her long gone friend. And even crazier to find yourself more attracted to that stranger than to anyone you'd ever been before. But that's exactly how Lois felt. She couldn't describe her feelings, but she knew with certainty that she did not want this man to just walk away. "Guess that would be a good idea."
"Yeah." They continued to stare at one another for a moment before he glanced up at a cafe. "This place has good coffee, but Corley's Corner, down on the boardwalk, serves coffee to die for."
She should have felt a little apprehension about being asked to follow a strange man around an unfamiliar city. But it never entered her mind to fear this man. His very presence seemed to radiate trust, something she might later question. Right now she wanted to find out more about this mysterious stranger. "Lead on."
++++
Charlie offered her a wide smile and set out toward the boardwalk. They walked in companionable silence the short distance to the restaurant near the beach, each needing the time to collect their wayward thoughts.
Who was this mystery woman at this side? When he'd held her gaze for the first time, he'd immediately been reminded of his dream lady. She was easily the most beautiful woman he could remember ever seeing. Her dark eyes held his captive, as if branding him to memory. Long lashes, longer than any woman's he'd ever seen, gave her deep pools more allure than he'd thought possible of any woman. Her professionally styled hair was cut short, and it was pushed behind her ears on either side, making her too adorable for words. Very little make-up had been used to hide her natural beauty, which made her all the more attractive. So delicate, fragile, yet the firm set of her jaw told Charlie this woman was a force to be reckoned with. The dark hair, the dark eyes, the petite frame all reminded him of the woman from his dreams. But it was her sheer presence that intrigued him.
Lately, Charlie's dreams had grown in frequency, waking him almost nightly. Every one featured a beautiful woman he was sure he'd known well. There were those that felt more like memories. He'd seen her in one looking quite flustered and dirty. She'd ranted about being bitten by mosquitoes. Apparently he'd sent her somewhere to find something that wasn't there. He'd set her up, and she'd told him she respected him for what he'd done. Whatever it was he'd done!
In another he'd argued with her over a decision she'd made. He'd wanted her to change her mind, but she'd refused. There were many dreams of them arguing. Almost as if that was something normal for them. Still another time revealed them sitting on the floor of her apartment, him hugging her close and telling her he wasn't going to leave her. So, whatever relationship he'd shared with this woman had to have been something very special.
Then there were those dreams that felt too surreal to have actually happened. In those, he kissed her with all the passion he could muster. He caressed her, made love to her slowly, repeatedly. She'd lie across his chest in their afterglow, her cheek pressed to his skin. His fingers stroked her hair and each would whisper endearments to one another in the dark.
Something that good, that unbelievable, couldn't possibly be true.
Beside him, she walked silently, obviously lost in thoughts of her own.
They stopped at the walk up window of the little cafe and placed their order.
"Here. Let me get this," Charlie said when the man inside told them how much money was needed.
"I'm buying and that's final," Lois told him as she handed over the bills.
Charlie surrendered with a shrug. A second later, they'd gotten their drinks.
"Should we sit?" Charlie asked his companion, automatically assuming they'd share their drink together.
"How about we walk on the beach?" Lois cast a glance at the crystal water and gleaming white sand. "I haven't actually made it onto the beach yet. I've been listening to the waves from my room, but it's just not the same."
"Sure. I think we have time for a peaceful walk before the place fills up for the day."
++++
Lois noticed his smile, but he turned away too soon for her to get the full affect. They paused when they stepped off the boardwalk to remove their shoes before starting toward the north end of the white blanket stretched out before them.
"So, I have to admit this is the first time I've bought a man coffee and didn't even know his name," Lois started after a few steps.
Charlie grinned over at her. "Charlie. My name's Charlie."
"Well, Charlie, I'm Lois."
He looked at her closely, as if trying to decide if her name fit.
"Lois," he repeated with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You're right, Charlie. This is great coffee," Lois commented as she gazed down at the cup she held, needing something-- anything-- to say. She shifted the folder she held, and her shoes, to the other arm and looked out across the ocean. "Coupled with such beautiful scenery and one wonders how they could ask for more."
"I'll drink to that." He lifted his cup to take a full swallow.
Lois had to blink quickly to hide her surprise when he turned up his cup. Their coffee was still very hot, but he didn't flinch.
"Is it safe to assume that you're a visitor to our fair city?" Charlie asked Lois, bringing her from her contemplation.
"Ah, yes. I came to Mystic for inspiration for a new book." Why had she told him that so easily?
"You're a writer?"
"Yes." Again, she was reminded of Clark when she glanced over at Charlie. The more she looked at him, the more he reminded her of her friend. There was no way her overactive mind could be right though. Was she really missing her best friend so much that she'd think a good looking stranger could be him? This man was not...
"I'm also a reporter." That should have some kind of affect, she decided quickly. And her mind was off to the races.
They never had found a body.
For all she knew Clark could have come back to Earth.
He could have been hurt and only just recovered.
He could have had amnesia, which would explain why he hadn't returned home. Of course, he could have simply chosen to stay away. His last note to her had told her that he wouldn't, couldn't be around her. He couldn't be near, loving her the way he did and not be allowed to touch. Not for the first time she'd thought about him simply staying away, refusing to come home. She'd dismissed those ideas on several occasions for one reason: his parents. Clark might have been devastated by her rejection of him, but he would have never willingly left his parents without a word for over two years. She had every argument imaginable with herself over Clark. It just wasn't logical that he was still alive. But her heart... sometimes her heart refused to give up.
Like now, walking along the beach with a stranger who looked like Clark's twin.
Charlie looked over at her. "A reporter?" Genuine surprise sounded in his voice.
"Yep."
He'd paused. He hadn't expected her to say that. Did that mean something?
"I work for the Daily Planet in Metropolis."
Charlie let out a low whistle. "Impressive. I'm told that's probably the largest paper in the world."
"And the best," Lois added smugly. He hadn't reacted as he had when she'd told him she was a reporter, yet he still looked surprised. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he just hadn't pictured her as a reporter and was truly impressed. Maybe, maybe, maybe... Why did she have to allow her mind to stir up those memories today? She was on the beach, drinking coffee with a gorgeous man. For once in her life, she should just *stop* thinking.
"Is that a note of vanity I hear?" He grinned to soften his statement.
Lois blinked when he spoke. His question was exactly something Clark would have asked.
<Could it be possible?> Taking another look, she decided the only way to find out for sure was to keep him talking. "I like to call it confidence." She beamed brightly as they continued to stroll along the sand.
"And something tells me that you don't lack much of that at all."
She only shrugged. Her confidence had taken a horrible blow because of her failed marriage and all the events surrounding that mistake. With support of good friends and a renewed relationship with her parents, she'd regained a little of her self-esteem. Admittedly, she might never be as confident as she once was, but going backwards did no one any good.
<And neither does all this thinking!>
"So, what does a local do to pass the time around here?"
"Well, most of us work."
She smiled at his expression. "That would make sense."
"Just a little." He laughed softly, apparently enjoying his company.
"And what kind of work do you do, Charlie?"
"I make hand-carved statues."
Lois blinked a little, not expecting that answer. "Really?"
"Yeah. Did you notice the large animal statues in the window of that gift shop back at Center City?"
"The tiger and the bear with her cubs?" He nodded. "You made those?" she asked in awe.
"Yep. I started carving as a hobby a while back, but Mrs. Nolan, the lady who owns the store, convinced me that I could make money selling them. She was right. I sold one two months ago for almost a thousand dollars."
"Wow!" This time, Lois was the one impressed. "Must have been some statue?"
"It was a large eagle with outstretched wings. I cut out each feather separately, then glued them together. It's very detailed."
"I'd like to see it."
"It's in the lobby of Paine's Investment House on the East end of Main Street."
"I'll be sure to go get a look at it then." They walked on in silence for a few moments, Lois once again questioning who the man next to her really was. It was foolish to think he could possibly be Clark. She'd led an investigation into his disappearance, searching almost nonstop for a year before being forced to face the cold reality. If Clark had survived Nightfall, he would have been found. Still...
"So, Lois, tell me what your novel is about."
She looked over at him, struck once again by his resemblance to her partner. "It's about a woman growing up in rural Southern America and befriending a boy when it was considered a sin to be seen with a boy after dark without a chaperone."
"I'd have thought you would go for mystery and intrigue."
Her brows lifted in surprise of his insightfulness, but figured he'd made that connection because of her revelation of being a reporter. "At one time, I would have definitely been driven by a story like that." Why had she told him that?
"And now? What happened to change that?"
"So many things changed my outlook on life," she told him as she stared down the beach. Lois had realized the hard way, after it was far too late, that there was nothing in the world more important than friendship and being true to yourself.
He remained silent, not commenting. Almost as if he was sensing her anguish. So like Clark…
Lois pushed her troubled memories to the back of her mind and stopped a few paces from an old man happily chatting with a couple of women as he painted on a large canvas.
"That's Joe," Charlie told her when he saw where she was looking. "He comes out most every day to paint for the tourists. He's a retired Vet and this is how he makes extra money."
"How long have you lived in Mystic?" she asked, suddenly curious to know more about this man.
"Over a year now, I guess. I was enchanted by the atmosphere the first time I saw this place."
"I can certainly agree with that," Lois told him. She, too, had been enchanted the moment she'd driven into this small town. The Lois of old might not have been so impressed, but the changed Lois took the time to appreciate the world... and people around her. "You know, I have a friend that would love a painting of the ocean."
Charlie shook his head with a smile as she set off toward Joe.
Lois waited patiently for the two women to collect their painting before addressing Joe. "Hi!"
"Hi, young lady," Joe greeted her. "Are you interested in a painting today?"
"I am. I have a friend that would love a painting of the ocean."
"I can do that." He smiled at her before he saw Charlie approaching. "Charlie! It's good to see you. Noticed you go by this morning. Been to see Mrs. Nolan?"
"Oh yeah. Had to see if I'd impressed any more gullible tourists."
Joe grinned over at Lois. Obviously his young friend had impressed someone else and not with his carvings. "So, would you like to be in this picture?"
Lois looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think so."
"Okay." Joe lifted his brush and set to work creating his next masterpiece.
Lois and Charlie chatted about the scenery and finished their coffee while Joe quickly brought a white canvas to brilliant life. Several moments later, his work was being admired.
"I would never have believed that would take only..." She glanced at her watch. "... ten minutes for you to paint."
"Ocean scenes are easy. I've been doing them for years. You know, Charlie, one of these days you're going to have to let me paint you something. I think everyone in town has an original but you."
"Then we'll have to change that. How about I trade you a carving of old Red over there for one of your ocean scenes?"
Joe looked back at the red dog that slept next to his bag. Red had been with him for many years now. "That sounds like a deal."
"I'll bring it by tomorrow," Charlie told him.
"And I'll have you something special."
"Great!" Charlie smiled at the older man as Lois pulled a bill from her pocket to pay for her art.
"That's too much, ma'am," Joe told her when she handed him the money. "I couldn't accept."
"How about you hang on to that and I'll come back and get you to paint me another one before I leave Mystic?"
Joe smiled at her before reluctantly accepting her payment. "Don't you disappoint me by not showing up."
"I won't." She exchanged a few more pleasantries, took her painting, then turned to go.
Charlie had tossed their coffee cups, freeing up one of Lois' hands, but he quickly offered to help her with her burden. He held the painting by his side and they continued down the beach.
"How long do you plan to be in Mystic?" Charlie asked Lois after another period of silence.
"Oh, I don't know. Until my novel's done." She shrugged, her eyes fixated on the waves lapping the white sand. At one time, spending an undetermined amount of time away from the Planet and the newsroom would have been the furthest thing from her mind. Now she looked forward to peaceful days filled with memories of another time. So much had changed for Lois.
The couple continued their idle chatter for several more minutes before Lois stopped at a connecting bridgeway back onto the surface street. "This is my stop." She would have loved to stay and talk with Charlie all day, but suddenly her thoughts were overwhelming her. She needed to be alone, to think.
Charlie glanced up to see where they were. "Are you staying at Donovan's?"
Donovan's was a locally owned hotel on the beach front. A majestic old house, renovated into a modern oasis, attracted many tourists each year. When Lois had spotted it, she'd known right away that was where she wanted to stay.
"Yes. I liked its charm."
"Not to mention the incredible view from the ocean side rooms."
"Yeah," Lois added with a grin. "I'm on the top floor. I couldn't resist being up high enough to see the entire bay."
Charlie nodded and lifted her painting. "I hope your friend enjoys this painting."
"She will," Lois said as she took the painting, admiring yet again the skill of the artist.
"Thank you... for the coffee," he said, appearing reluctant to actually leave.
For an incredibly electrifying second, Lois felt as if a burst of ice cold air had slapped against her face. Those eyes, Charlie's eyes... dark, compassionate, all-consuming. They were *his* eyes.
Lois saw Clark looking back at her from behind that beard and those amazing, familiar eyes.
"Clark?" she croaked, just barely above a whisper.
