Staring silently into the darkness of the empty streets, Lois felt her anger begin to ebb, replaced by an inevitable sense of defeat. She'd failed Lucy , and it was only the latest of a long list of personal failures. Claude, her relationships with men, her relationship with her father- she'd been a success at none of them.
Somehow her mother was able to bring all her old feelings of defeat with a single glance. When Lois was around her mother, she was no longer the award winning career woman, the top journalist in a city of eleven million people. She was a little girl again, begging for every scrap of love and attention she could find. Lois knew what her mother would say when they next spoke.
Ellen Lane would claim that Lois should have taken better care of her sister, that Lucy wasn't old enough to make her own decisions. Lois could agree with that in part; she suspected that none of the Lane women were mature enough to make good decisions. Ellen's track record wasn't any better than Lois's or Lucy's. They were all intrinsically flawed somehow, damaged by forces they weren't even aware of.
The interior of the cab was dark, and Clark was carefully allowing Lois her own space. She appreciated that; most men she knew would have felt compelled to fill the silence with talk, no matter how banal the subject matter. She'd been guilty of that herself at times.
He'd been the perfect companion this evening- handsome, intelligent, non-judgmental. Lois suspected that Lucy would be in jail if it hadn't been for Clark's help. While Lois might have used her press pass to keep out of trouble, that wasn't an option available to Lucy.
That all assumed that her boyfriend hadn't had something more sinister in mind when he doped Lucy's drink. Lois shuddered at the thought of what might have happened. Lucy was the only family she had left, or at least she was the only one Lois really cared deeply about.
Lois still loved her mother and father, but she couldn't stand to be around them. With Lucy, however, Lois had been developing a deeper relationship, one that was better than the one they'd had as children. Then Lois had been the bossy older sister, trying to be the mother because her own mother wasn't able to do so.
They'd never gotten along as children. Lucy had hated being told what to do almost as much as Lois did, and she'd rebelled. Lois, in turn, had resented the special treatment Lucy received. Lucy had always been her father's favorite, and her mother's as well. She'd never had to face the pressures Lois had, and Lois had never had the feeling that Sam Lane wished Lucy was a son either. She'd been accepted by her parents for who she was, and that was something Lois had always envied.
Lucy hadn't been unaffected by life in the Lane household; if she had, she'd have made better choices and wouldn't be in the situation she was in today. Still, she'd never really born the full brunt of parental disapproval, and she'd never really had to take responsibility for her own actions.
Envying her sister's free spirit, Lois had consistently chosen the path of work and responsibility. Whereas Lucy lived life on her own terms, Lois had done everything she could to please an uncaring, impossible to please father. She'd done what was expected of her, rebelling only in her choice of professions. She'd struggled her way to the top faster than her peers, being one of the youngest reporters ever to win a Merriweather award, and later, two Kerths.
Success required dedication. If her father had left her with any message, it was that. In her father's eyes, work transcended friends, family and every other part of life. Lois had accepted wholeheartedly the message that Lucy had rejected. She'd dedicated everything to finding success and gaining her father's respect.
Until tonight, Lois hadn't really envied Lucy. Lucy's footloose ways, and her continuous string of fun but hopelessly flawed boyfriends had worried Lois, as did her lack of ambition. Lucy hadn't had any more success with her romantic choices than Lois had, though there had been far more of them. Lucy seemed to center her life around the search for love, which was something Lois rarely had time for.
Glancing at Clark for a moment, Lois had to admit that she might not have been tempted because she hadn't met the right person. Claude had been handsome, but Lois had known the moment that she met him that he was a misogynist. Mitch was hopelessly weak, and Paul had never had any real interest in her other than as a reporter.
Clark Kent wasn't like any of the others, and on a fundamental level, that worried her. He was too good to be true, too attractive in any number of ways. He made her want to throw her inhibitions to the wind and do something wild and uncharacteristic.
Lois was startled when she felt the cab pulling to a stop. She'd been so lost in thought that she couldn't remember most of the trip. She glanced over at Clark and opened her mouth to thank him for a lovely date and to wish him a nice life. That was what the level headed, sensible Lois that her mother and father knew would have done.
Of course, her mother and father had rarely been right when it came to her.
"Would you like to come up for coffee?" Lois found herself asking.
Clark hesitated, and for a horrible moment, Lois thought he was going to reject her offer. She'd thought that he liked her as well as she did him, to learn otherwise would be a colossal blow to her ego.
After a moment, he nodded. "I'd like that."
Before Lois could offer to pay, he handed several bills to the cabbie. Lois slipped out of the cab, and Clark slid across the seat to join her on the sidewalk.
"You live in a nice part of town," Clark said.
"It's close to where I work," Lois said, "And it's safer for Lucy."
She was better off avoiding the poorer parts of the city; she'd made enemies already. At least security was good in her apartment.
Lois fumbled for her keys, uncomfortably aware of Clark's presence behind her. She wondered for a moment what she was doing. Many men interpreted coffee as an invitation for much more, and Lois wasn't sure she was ready for that.
Lois's hands shook, and the keys fell from them. Clark kneeled and picked them up.
"I'll go if you want me to,": he said quietly. "And if I do come up, you don't have to worry. Sometimes coffee just means coffee."
Lois stared at him for a moment, wondering how he'd known about her worries. She accepted the keys from him and felt a thrill of excitement as her hand touched his. She felt a long forgotten sensation in the pit of her stomach, one that she only vaguely recognized as anticipation. Sometimes coffee only meant coffee...but it didn't have to be.
Stepping through the Lobby, Lois headed straight for the elevators. At this time of the night, there was no one around, which was a slight relief. Lois didn't want to have to face anyone after the night she'd had; that she actually wanted to be with Clark instead of alone was something of a revelation.
Lois allowed herself to look at Clark's reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator door. He was tall and strong, dark, mysterious, and handsome. He was everything the romantic heroes of her imagination had always been.
Giving up the books, the television shows, the soap operas had been a mistake. While Lois had avoided thinking about romance at all for almost a year, it was all flooding back to her now, the loneliness, the desire, the endless aching need.
She'd been numb for a long time, and the return of feeling was almost painful.
The elevator opened, and Lois quickly made her way down the hall. With her keys ready in unsteady hands, she made her way inside the door.
*****************************
Clark wasn't certain that following Lois into her apartment was a good idea. He could tell that she was upset, unsteady on her feet, and that she'd been deeply affected by what had almost happened to her sister. He'd seen the look in her eye, and he knew what it meant. He'd been exposed to enough women to know the signs of arousal.
Under ordinary circumstances, it wouldn't have been a problem. He'd never had trouble controlling himself around women. When they'd pursued him, he'd always made a conscious decision about whether to be caught, or not. He'd experienced passion, but never as the overwhelming, uncontrollable thing that other people seemed to sometimes experience. He'd always been in control.
With Lois, it was different. He found himself fighting the desire to touch her, to comfort her, to take away her pain. He wanted to kiss her, and he had to fight to keep his eyes from drifting to her lips. Her scent alone was almost enough to overwhelm him...not the perfume she'd chosen, but the deeper, intoxicating aroma that was uniquely her.
She'd have been mortified to know that he could smell her, that he could have picked her heartbeat, and her delicate scent out in the middle of a crowded smoke filled room. If he never saw her again, he'd always remember everything about her; how she walked, how she smiled, her look, her smell, her taste.
Losing control was dangerous. That was a lesson he'd learned over and over again since his parents had died. Yet Lois spoke to a part of him deep inside that wanted to surrender control, to allow him to throw caution to the wind and simply feel.
She frightened him, and yet he was drawn to her, inexorably.
Lois switched the light on, and he glanced around the apartment. Her touch was in almost everything he saw, from the uncomfortable looking couch to the almost perfectly hidden shelf full of awards. The place spoke of feminine impulses at odds with masculine strength, professionalism with romantic influences, utility and frivolity. The same contradictory impulses he saw in Lois Lane, he saw in the apartment, and it only intrigued him more.
"How do you like your coffee?" Lois asked. She glanced back at him nervously, as though she was afraid of what he would do...or of what she would.
"I like lots of cream and sugar, but I can drink it black if that's what you have."
Lois frowned. "I'll see what I've got." She moved quickly into the kitchen, and Clark found himself alone in the entryway.
He stepped into the living room, and found himself drawn toward the shelf with the hidden awards. He was tempted to peek using his special vision, intrigued at the thought of awards that were hidden rather than being fully displayed. However, that would be an invasion of privacy, and it would be a poor way of beginning what Clark hoped would be a beautiful relationship.
Getting her to tell him about the awards would be more fulfilling in any case. Lois was a guarded person; Clark sensed that she was very particular about who she trusted with her personal secrets. He very much wanted to be part of that inner circle.
He'd never even been tempted to reveal his own secrets until tonight. The thought of having someone to share his own vulnerability with was almost more than he could imagine. He'd been alone for as long as he could remember, even when he was in the midst of a crowded room. Lois seemed like the sort of person who would understand, who wouldn't look at him like the freak of nature that he was.
Clark turned slightly as Lois reentered the room.
"I hope decaf is ok," Lois began. She began clearing off the small coffee table in front of her sofa. "It's getting pretty late, and I'm going to need to get some sleep before work in the morning."
"If this makes you uncomfortable, I can leave," Clark began, his heart sinking. Lois hadn't looked at him since she'd reentered the room.
Lois glanced up at him, seemingly startled. "No, I...I want you to stay. You've been great tonight."
"You don't owe me anything," Clark said soberly. "I told you from the beginning...no expectations."
"That was a bit idealistic, don't you think?" Lois smiled weakly. "No matter how much we try to deny it, we all have expectations. You aren't at all what I expected from a blind date."
"Let me guess," Clark said. "You expected me to be short, overweight and bald, with an ego the size of Manhatten."
"I was thinking Texas, quite frankly," Lois said, smiling weakly.
"I'm not like other men, Lois." This was truer than he was willing to admit at present, but she had no need to know that. She'd had enough shocks for one evening; discovering that her blind date was actually an alien freak was hardly what she'd want to hear.
Lois slowly lowered herself to the couch, as though the mere act of sitting hurt. She grimaced, and Clark found himself quickly reaching for her.
"Are you hurt?"
Lois shook her head, grimacing again. "It's just stress. I get tension headaches whenever I have to deal with my mother."
Hesitating, Clark said, "I learned something about pressure points and therapeutic massage when I was in Asia. It's said to be helpful in treating migraines."
"I'd say that was the oldest line in the book," Lois said, staring at him cynically. "You aren't as different from other men as you'd like to think."
Until tonight, Clark would have disagreed with her. Lois had aroused something within him that he hadn't known existed. His entire life, he'd known that something was missing. Tonight, he had the feeling that he'd found it.
"I really do believe that I can help your headache," Clark said. "You have no reason to trust me, but I'd like to help."
Lois watched him closely for a moment before sighing. "All right. But if this involves scented oils, strange religious rituals, or me getting naked, you're out of here."
Clark grinned. "You seem to be the one with expectations here. Don't worry...it won't hurt much."
"Much?" Lois asked quickly, staring at him dubiously.
"I won't lie to you, Lois. It might hurt a little at first...but you'll feel much better afterward."
Hesitating, Lois glanced at him again, then sighed. "What do I need to do?"
"Just turn around so your back is to me," Clark said. "If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, let me know."
Lois nodded, wincing at the pain in her head. She slowly swiveled in her seat, glancing back at him one final time before facing away.
Clark used his special vision to make sure she didn't have any spinal problems before beginning. He rubbed his fingers together rapidly, warming them, then he placed them on the places where her muscles were most knotted.
The moment he touched her shoulders, he knew it was a mistake. He'd thought he could maintain his composure and simply give her the relief she'd asked for, but he was finding himself reacting far more strongly than he ever would have dreamed. There was something remarkably intimate about touching a woman's shoulder, about touching the gentle arch of her long, graceful neck.
He hesitated for a moment, feeling the blood rushing to his face. He was glad that she was facing away from him, or she would have certainly noticed the way he was reacting to her. When he noticed her beginning to look back at him, he quickly began to use the techniques he'd been taught by an acupuncturist in Shanghai.
Lois moaned, and it was almost all he could do to continue.
***********************
Clark's fingers were exquisite agony, pain followed by pleasure as the knots in her muscles released and relaxed, soothed by the warmth of his fingers. For the first time in recent memory, Lois found herself living in the moment, feeling instead of thinking, basking in the enjoyment of physical pleasure.
To her surprise, her headache did seem to be fading away, leaving behind only a sense of languorous warmth. That warmth was replaced in turn by a growing awareness of the feeling of Clark's hands sliding slowly over the bare skin of her neck.
To her horror, Lois found herself moaning. She flushed, glad that he couldn't see her reaction to his touch. It had been a long time since she'd enjoyed the touch of another human being, and she was surprised to discover that she'd missed it. Submerging herself in work had allowed her to forget, but the memory of that basic human need was coming back to her in a torrent.
Lois stiffened, but Clark's ministrations quickly had her relaxing again. This was why many people saw massage as a prelude to seduction. She never should have consented for him to do this. He was attractive, intelligent, exciting...it would be easy to fall for a man like him. Considering his behavior this evening, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
However, Lois knew better than to become physical immediately. Hard experience had shown her that it wasn't healthy for a new relationship, no matter how tempting it might be. She'd resolved after Claude that she would move cautiously, that she would only become physical with someone she could be sure that she trusted. This time around, she was determined to hold out for love.
She'd lost her belief in love, and so she'd thought that the physical side of life was a chapter that would be forever closed.
Her blush was gone. Lois said, "Clark..."
His hands stilled instantly on her shoulders. A moment later, Clark removed them entirely, leaving Lois feeling bereft.
She turned to face him, only to catch him watching her with a curious, intense gaze. In his face, she could see desire that mirrored her own, and she felt a thrill of alarm.
In the heat of passion, it was easy to lose sight of what was right or wrong.
"Maybe I'd better go," he said, clearing his throat.
Lois hesitated, then nodded. It would be the safest thing for both of them; sex this early in the relationship could only damage the feelings they had for each other.
She slowly rose to her feet, surprised to realize that her headache was gone. In truth, the tension that she'd carried in her shoulders for years was gone as well, and Lois felt curiously lethargic. She could have simply leaned back and rested against Clark forever, and she thought that it would have felt cozy.
Lois forced herself to look up at Clark and smile. "Despite everything, I had a good time tonight."
He nodded slowly. "I'd like to see you again."
"I'm sure that can be arranged," Lois said. She looked up at him for a moment, and realized again just how dangerously handsome he was. "Maybe next time we can do without the visit to the hospital."
"Just a calm, quiet evening out," Clark agreed. "I think I'd like that."
Lois nodded, then grabbed his hand. She pulled him toward the door. "I don't know about you, but I have to get to work in the morning."
"It'll be my first day on the job," Clark agreed. "I can't be late."
As they reached the door, Lois said, "I don't usually kiss on the first date, but..."
Before she could complete the sentence, Clark leaned down and kissed her.
It took Lois less than a second to realize that she'd just made a huge mistake. One kiss was more than enough to fan the flames of passion, more than enough to make her lose control.
One kiss seemed to last forever, and before Lois knew it, her back was against the wall, and she felt faint.
Clark pulled away from her, and Lois could see a faint hint of satisfaction in his eyes. He leaned down again, and Lois closed her eyes, thinking he was going to kiss her. Instead, she felt his lips brush by her ear.
"You knock me off my feet," he murmured. "But if I don't leave now, I don't think I ever will. I'll call you tomorrow...maybe we can schedule some more time to spend together."
Lois nodded slowly, her lips feeling swollen. She knew what she had to look like...her lips, her eyes heavy lidded with passion. She had to look like a mess while Clark somehow managed to look perfect.
Before she could say another word, he was out the door. Lois was left staring after him, wondering what she'd gotten herself in to.
Clark Kent certainly wasn't like any man she'd known before.
