Lois wrinkled her nose as she walked into Clark’s apartment. Something which was way overdue for the trashcan was making its presence felt. Very strongly.
Almost immediately, she spotted the source sitting on the edge of Clark’s coffee table – half-empty Chinese take-away cartons. Not only that, but the TV was chattering to itself in one corner and a pair of shoes were strewn across the floor together with unmatched socks and a crumpled t-shirt.
Of course. He’d been high when he’d left here the day before yesterday. This was a glimpse of how the other Clark lived - the Clark she’d met in George’s office.
“Sorry,” he muttered, hurrying past her. “I’ll clean up.”
And suddenly, he became a blur and things began to magically disappear off the floor and the table. The windows were flung open and a gentle breeze wafted the smell of rotting food away. The chattering TV died.
“Here’s the packaging.”
She blinked. He was standing in front of her again, casually offering her a brown padded envelope as if whirlwinds like the one she’d just witnessed took place routinely in people’s living rooms.
She was about to express her amazement when she caught his expression – the same look she’d seen in the clinic cafeteria. Don’t tell me I just did something weird and amazing, was the unspoken message. Don’t mention the mess you saw when you came in. And don’t, whatever you do, offer any sympathy.
He’d been the same during their flight here – not cold or unfriendly, just...brooding. After George’s words of warning, she’d wanted to ask Clark about his session, but each time she’d glanced at his face and seen the faint frown lines across his forehead and the glazed look in his eyes, she’d thought the better of it.
Well, maybe a diversion from his churning thoughts was what he needed, so that was what she’d provide.
She took the envelope from him. “Okay, what have we got?” Turning it over in her hands, she found the postmark. “Barton, New Troy,” she read. “Posted...” She strained to see the time and date. “Nope. Can you read it?” she asked, handing it back to him.
He slid his glasses down his nose and peered over the top of them at the envelope. “Day before yesterday at 5pm,” he announced, sliding his glasses back into place. “So what’s in Barton?”
She shrugged. Barton was a smallish town a couple of hours’ drive from Metropolis, with, so far as she knew, absolutely nothing to mark it out as special. “No idea. Do you have a map?”
“Yeah.”
He fetched a road atlas from his bookshelves, found the correct page and spread it out on the coffee table. Together, they sank down onto his sofa to pore over the map.
“There!” she exclaimed after a moment’s search. “Barton.” She pointed with her finger.
Silence fell as they both scanned the surrounding area for anything significant.
“Okay,” said Clark after a few minutes. “I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking for, but what I can tell you is this – Barton is probably the least interesting town I’ve ever investigated.”
Lois chuckled. “Me too. Maybe that’s exactly why they chose it.”
“Could be. Looks to me as though the most exciting thing Bartonians get to do is go watch the traffic on I-95.”
She laughed. “Yes, I guess the Interstate is pretty close. That’s probably a whole weekend’s entertainment – watching the trucks go by on their way to Philadelphia.”
“So what now? Visit this place? See if we can scare up something more interesting than road traffic analysis?”
“Why don’t you contact your friend at the DA’s office first?” she suggested. “We should get her started on that list as soon as possible.”
He grimaced. “Sure,” he said, eyeing the phone on the table as if it were some kind of poisonous snake.
She grabbed the receiver and handed it to him. “Here.”
He accepted it reluctantly with a deep sigh. “Look, would you mind if I did this alone? She’s kind of...shy.”
“Doesn’t want to be found out,” Lois said, nodding. “I understand. No problem.” She stood up. “I’ll be on the balcony, okay?”
He smiled tightly up at her. “Thanks.”
*************
Lois paced up and down the small balcony, sneaking glances through the window to Clark whenever she dared. This was more than just a source who didn’t want to be exposed. He was huddled over the phone, pressing it tightly to his ear. His face was in profile, but even so, she could see a muscle jumping along his jaw whenever he stopped talking and listened to his contact. This was someone with whom he had a personal involvement.
An ex-girlfriend, perhaps? One of his conquests when he’d been jumping from woman to woman?
That would explain the smashed banana at breakfast and his reluctance just now to phone her.
She snatched another glance. He’d replaced the receiver and was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, staring off into the middle distance. Definitely more than just a shy source.
Well, much as she’d like to know who this mystery woman was, there was no way she’d be able to ask him in his current mood. Instead, she crossed to the far side of the balcony and gazed idly across the city, waiting for him to call her in.
**************
“Lois, can we talk?”
She blinked, surprised by Clark’s sudden interjection into the silence which had fallen between them. Amused, she wondered how he expected her to refuse, given that they were currently a few thousand feet above the ground, flying towards Barton. Clark was the only thing between her and a long plummet to earth.
“Sure,” she replied. “In-flight entertainment, huh?”
He smiled wanly. “Last night, you said something,” he began hesitantly. “I...I need to know if you meant it.”
She frowned up at him. “What did I say?”
“You said you wanted to be with me,” he said. “I could understand if it was just something you said in the heat of the moment to make me feel better about myself, so it’s really no big deal if you didn’t mean it, but I...I’d just like to know.”
Oh, God, how did she answer that? Yes, she wanted him in her life, but hadn’t she also concluded it would be unfair to let him believe she could give him a romantic relationship?
“Of course,” he continued when she didn’t answer him immediately, “maybe you’re not sure whether you do or not – that would be understandable, given everything that’s happened... but if you are sure, either way...I’d just like to know where I stand, Lois.“
And how was she supposed to think clearly when he was cradling her in his arms and those inviting lips of his were so close to hers? She’d been reliving last night’s kiss all morning, remembering his tenderness, his gentle hint of passion, and the melting sensation in her heart when he’d kissed her knuckles afterwards. She’d kiss him again in the blink of an eye.
But she had to be strong. For both their sakes, she had to resist her instincts and keep this relationship strictly platonic.
Glancing up at him, she found him waiting anxiously for her answer. If she said ‘no’, she’d very likely break his heart.
“Yes,” she said finally. “I meant it. I’m not exactly sure what being with you means in practical terms, but I do know that I want you in my life. Somehow or other.”
He squeezed her closer to his body and closed his eyes briefly. “You’ve no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered. And suddenly, to her alarm, he was trembling with emotion.
“Hey,” she murmured, gripping his shoulder a little tighter. “You’re not going to drop me, are you?” She tried to make a joke of it by laughing a little.
“God, no, Lois,” he breathed.
Already she felt like a complete heel. He was interpreting her words as if she’d just told him she was prepared to become his girlfriend, and that wasn’t what she’d meant at all. What now?
“So, how did your session with George go?” she asked. Stuff leaving him alone with his thoughts – she needed a change of subject and this was the obvious choice.
Clark grimaced and related George’s experiment with the red kryptonite. “But he doesn’t understand that it’s different when I’m with him,” he said. “Of course I won’t take a hit when he’s there. It’s when I’m on my own that the problems start.”
“But you didn’t take any last night when you were on your own,” she pointed out.
“That’s what George said,” he replied, his voice rising in frustration. “But that was pre-meditated – I decided to go to the dispensary and take a hit, and then when I got there, I decided not to take a hit after all. I was in control. Don’t you or George get that? I need to be in control, and when I’m not in control, or there’s no-one around to control me, anything can happen.”
His voice had risen so much that a passing seagull swerved away from them. “Hey,” she murmured, daring to let go with one hand so she could cup the side of his face.
In response, he tightened his hold on her. Allowed several small settlements to pass below them. Didn’t comment on a distant plane skimming through the clouds.
“Sorry,” he muttered finally. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“This really bothers you, doesn’t it?” she asked.
He sighed. “Yeah.”
“Well, see, this is why we’re on this investigation,” she said, trying to cheer him up. “So you don’t have to worry any more about unexpected encounters with red kryptonite.” She peered down to the ground. “Hey, look,” she said, indicating a tightly-knit group of buildings below. “Do you think that might be Barton?”
**************
Barton yielded nothing of interest, as expected. It was nothing more than a commuter town for Metropolis, its high speed rail link depositing residents into the centre of the city in less than an hour.
Back at Clark’s apartment, they threw a few hypotheses around, but there really wasn’t much to play with. They needed that list of art thieves.
“Where’s she sending it?” asked Lois. “And when?”
“To my email address at the Planet,” he replied. “She said it could take a couple of hours.“ He smiled. “So, what would you like to do for the next two hours?” He caught her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “I have a few ideas,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
She froze. This was her payback for not correcting him on the girlfriend thing. Two hours alone with him, and his opening move was a kiss. Where would that lead to? She tried to calm her rising panic by breathing through her nose. Concentrated hard on preventing the hand he was holding from tightening up into a tense claw.
His smile faded. “I’m sorry,” he said, letting go of her hand. “Too much too soon, huh?”
She nodded jerkily. “Yeah.”
She found she’d taken an unconscious step backwards from him.
“Lois...” he murmured in a voice so tender it brought a lump to her throat. “I..I didn’t mean we should do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know.” Except his definition of what she wasn’t comfortable with as compared to hers might not exactly match.
His hand went up to worry agitatedly with the hair at the back of his neck. “Look, why don’t we head over to the Planet right now? I can do some work while we’re waiting and you can familiarise yourself with the new computer systems.”
“Okay.” Relief washed over her.
Besides, it was a good idea, especially as the clinic was starting to put subtle pressure on her to find work. The deal with the studio apartment, which she’d now lived in for a week, was that she could only continue to live there if she paid rent. It didn’t have to be a lot, but the money, however little, had to come from her own pocket. She respected the arrangement – she understood that it was a good way of de-institutionalising long-term patients and encouraging them to run their own affairs – but it meant that she needed a job pretty soon.
Her best hope was a part-time appointment at the Planet. The editor seemed to have some respect for her past reputation as a good reporter, so he might just be willing to give her a chance.
**************
Over two weeks had passed since her last visit to the Planet. Lois had to remind herself of that fact several times during her first half hour there: just because she’d freaked out then didn’t mean she was going to do so again. Still, she kept a watchful eye open for over-enthusiastic co-workers eager to demonstrate their delight at her return.
“So, Lois, it’s good to see you here again,” said Clark’s boss. “How are you?”
She tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear and made herself meet his gaze across his desk with a confident smile. “I’m good. In fact, I’ve recently moved into a small apartment.” He didn’t need to know that the apartment was attached to the clinic.
“Really? That’s great! Congratulations,” he exclaimed warmly. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before the famous Lois Lane bounced back into action.”
Famous, huh? “Well, funny you should mention ‘bouncing back’,” she replied, “because that’s exactly what I’d like to talk to you about.”
His smile slipped a bit. “I’m sorry?”
“Coming back to work,” she elaborated. “I’m sure you could use some extra help around here...I mean, not that I don’t think you’re running things very efficiently, because I’m sure you are, but what newsroom couldn’t use another reporter?”
“Well, we do have a full complement of staff right now,” he began. “It might be difficult-“
“I’ll do anything you like,” she added hastily. “Doesn’t have to be the big stuff. I mean, I know you’ll want to see for yourself if I’m any good before you trust me with anything really important.”
“The thing is, I just don’t have any spare budget to hire new staff,” he said. “These things have to be planned in advance, you know. I can’t just decide to add head count on a whim.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me much,” she said, trying not to sound too desperate. “Use me like you use the freelance staff. In fact, why don’t you just hire me as a freelance?”
He sighed. “But don’t you think it’s a little soon for you to be considering work again?”
“I told you, I’m fine,” she insisted. “In fact, it’s the clinic who are encouraging me to find work.”
“So you’re still in contact with them?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “Of course. But they wouldn’t be telling me to get a job if they didn’t think I could handle it.”
He shook his head. “This is the same clinic that Clark attends, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said. “What’s your point?”
He shrugged. “I already have one employee I can’t rely on, Lois. I can’t afford two.”
She felt blood rush to her face. “Why, you...you...” She jumped up from her chair. “That’s discrimination!”
“It’s business,” he replied. “We’re not a charity here, Lois. I can’t give you a job just because your doctor says you need one. I need people who can give one hundred and ten percent of themselves, all day, every day.”
“Well, that’s ten percent too much, if you ask me,” she retorted. “Those are people out there, not slaves!”
He threw his hands up. “Hey, if I could get even a hundred percent out of certain people, I’d be thrilled.”
“Certain people, as you put it, give more to this newspaper than you could ever possibly comprehend,” she said, marching to the door and yanking it open.
“He sells newspapers,” he said. “I’ll give you that.”
She slammed the door in his face.
Two door-slammings in one day, she thought as she stormed back to Clark’s desk. Was that her own personal best?
**************
