~~~Part 9~~~
She blinked, and ducked her head. "Yeah, no... You're right... but it's okay, really. We're both pretty emotional. It's not a big deal. Forget it happened. Won't happen again." She brushed it off with a wave of her hand, but inside she was crushed. He'd thought she was *her*. The other Lois.
She swallowed her emotions, everything. She would have to think about all this when he wasn't here. She couldn't allow him to see that it had affected her. Not with the kiss and not with his quick retreat. And if she was smart, she wouldn't *let* any of it affect her. She *hadn't* felt that surge of... something. Electricity? It didn't matter. She hadn't felt it. And it certainly hadn't stung when he'd so hastily apologized for... probably the best kiss she'd ever experienced. Nope. Lois Lane was tough as nails. Nothing bothered her.
"So..." She cleared her throat. *Damn* her voice for sounding wobbly.
She caught his gaze. No, his stare. His *blank* stare. He'd felt nothing after... It didn't matter. "So, I guess we ought to make a plan... or something."
Good, Lane. Or something. *That's* real confident.
He frowned a bit. "A plan? For what?"
Lois blinked. Good question. "A... plan to bring me back from the dead. Though... I suppose you don't need to be concerned with that. It's my problem, really. What we do need is a place to stay since I'm out of money and the vultures are swarming around your place."
The frown increased in intensity. It was the reporters. Not her. Had to be. He hadn't changed his mind. He *couldn't* have changed his mind.
"Oh... right. We need money..."
She felt a little jolt at his "we". But that was stupid. It didn't mean anything. Just a pronoun, necessary to complete the sentence. In fact, he'd probably said it to spare her feelings so she wouldn't feel needy. Pitied.
"... Didn't grab my wallet before I left. I suppose..."
She looked up to find him playing with a loose thread on the knee of his jeans.
"I could shoot over and get it. In and out. They wouldn't even have a chance to snap any pictures before I was gone again."
She nodded, wondering suddenly if she had any stray threads on her jeans, too. Anything to avoid eye contact. No need to be sad, Lane. It's good if he pities you. You need it. You need him... His help, you need his help.
"It's okay, Lois. I really don't mind. Besides, I ought to pay if I'm staying here anyway."
He grinned a little at her. He had a point. Maybe it wasn't so much pity after all. She smiled, a bit uncomfortably, but she smiled.
"Just give me a few minutes... It won't take me long to get my wallet, but I want to stop off in New York to use the ATM."
She gave him curious look. Why...
"So the reporters don't have a chance to catch up to me. I maybe be able to move fast, but the machine can't."
She nodded. "Right. Of course."
"Okay. So..."
He stood, and held out his hand to help her up. She accepted it and rose to stand in front of him, proud of herself for not feeling anything at his touch. His hand was just warm from body heat. No, warm from friendship. She could at least hope for that.
"I'll be back in a few. Did you... need anything? Food? Supplies?"
"Um... yeah, food would be good." She smiled wryly, thinking back to the blasted noodles. "I had an... interesting encounter with my last attempt at feeding myself. Instant noodles my a..." Her stomach growled and she grinned, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm a bit hungry."
He chuckled lightly and gave her an endearing grin. She followed his eyes as they surveyed the small kitchenette. "Okay, I'll go ahead and stop at the store then, too, get some groceries, and I'll make us some lunch."
She kept her jaw from dropping. Superman cooked? A sudden image sprang to mind of the red and blue, spandex-clad hero in front of a pot of sauce and thinking, hmmm, needs more basil. She bit back a grin. "You cook?"
He blushed. "Yeah. A bit... When I was younger, my mom taught me how..."
He trailed off, frowning. Lost in the memory? Thinking he should stay with his parents instead. Because he apparently had a mom, surely a dad would be there to complete the package. Loving parents, she was sure. And the politeness she'd witnessed a few times, the manners, seemed to indicate he'd grown up somewhere other than the big city. Where were they from? Were they superpowered, too? Did they...
"Anyway, I'll be back in a few."
Lois nodded mutely, still a bit lost in her thoughts, and watched the door close after him when he left.
Superpowered... Maybe that was why the kiss had been so intense.
She sighed, noting that her heart rate had almost made it back to normal.
Wow.
She tried to keep herself from thinking that the kiss had been passionate, but it wasn't any use. Like it or not, she'd felt something with that kiss. Maybe it'd just been the suddenness of his lips against hers. Or the way he'd cradled her cheek in his hand, run his fingers through her hair. Or the tingling sensation as his tongue had touched hers. Or...
She sighed again, a bit breathless.
She'd never before felt like that when she'd been kissed. Never had her whole body just come alive, every nerve ending on alert.
But she was making too much of this. It'd only been a kiss. Kisses didn't determine fate or destiny. They weren't indicators of something meant to be. A kiss was just a kiss. Especially when it hadn't been meant for her.
That was why he'd backed off so quickly. He'd realized that he hadn't been kissing the right Lois.
Well, not to worry. She wouldn't let it happen again. From now on, it was just Clark and Lois, two people helping each other out and fighting the bad guys.
***
"Has there been a development?"
"Yes and no, sir."
"Don't waste my time being nebulous, Johnson, get to the point."
"Sorry, sir. Lane attempted to acquire Clark Kent's help today, but I think the reporters scared her off. Funny coincidence that they're both back in town within a few days of each other, eh?"
"Not really. Kent thinks she's dead, and I'm sure he's lost interest, especially after that imposter last year." There was a short pause, then, "You say she didn't actually make contact with Kent?"
"That's right, sir, she turned tail when she caught sight of the swarm of reporters. I don't think we'll need to worry about him. Seems she's a little on guard, trying to stay out of sight. So... not a big development, sir, but I thought you should be advised."
"Keep me posted."
The line went dead. Johnson frowned. Would it kill him to at least sign off?
He yawned, wondering how bad it was that he'd fallen asleep on his watch. He shrugged. It wasn't like she'd have gone anywhere in the middle of the night. And she hadn't gotten very far with her little outing this morning. She'd probably be holed up until Mayor White got back to town.
***
It hadn't taken Clark more than ten minutes to grab his wallet - ignoring the flutter of noise from the reporters as he sped in and out - and stop at the ATM, and then the grocery store. There shouldn't be any reason for him not to be back in the motel room and getting lunch started. No reason other than the nervous ball of energy that tore at his stomach.
The little voice inside his head that warned him of danger. Lois Lane was dangerous. She was an unknown entity. Completely unpredictable.
There was no telling what could happen if he dared to dream that anything could happen between them. It was foolish to even entertain the idea. Just because the other Lois and Clark were living happily ever after. Just because he felt... lighter somehow. Just because he'd felt a little tingle from this Lois's touch. Just because he'd felt a surge of something indescribable when he'd kissed her... didn't mean that he and Lois belonged together.
He was imagining things. Filling his head with fanciful ideas. Rearranging the fantasies he'd had of the other Lois to fit *this* Lois in. He was trying to make her fit like the last piece of the puzzle... only one place it could go... but what if it wasn't the right puzzle?
What if he was just convincing himself that he might be in love with Lois Lane because she was... Lois Lane?
What if everything he was feeling was just a lingering remnant of what he'd felt for the other Lois? The love he'd felt for her... he'd convinced himself that it was for someone else... the person just below him in a shoddy motel room.
They weren't real. His feelings. They couldn't be. It was just his subconscious making things up. Love was what he'd been longing for... dying for... ever since he'd realized what it really was. He was projecting every fantasy and reality he knew to be true on to Lois. This Lois.
All the pieces were falling into neatly into place, but... It was *too* neat. Too simple. It couldn't be true after all these years that everything would just right itself.
Lois Lane meets Clark Kent, they fall in love and live happily ever after.
He'd fallen all right, directly off the edge of a cliff. And now he was tumbling down, grasping at strongholds and failing to catch a single one.
And in all this crazy mess... who was to say that she'd even love him in return?
She'd waved the kiss off. Said it didn't matter and that it wouldn't happen again. No big deal.
He wondered if it had even fazed her. He had tried to listen to her heartbeat and been unable to hear it over the thunderous clamoring of his own.
None of it mattered. Really. He was making love out of nothing at all, and instead he should just be grateful that she was willing to be a friend to him.
Friend.
Now there was a word he hadn't used in a while. Not since... the other Lois.
Before his mind could start drawing futile parallels, he dove down - groceries tucked under his left arm - behind the motel and reemerged from the alley a second later.
He braced himself with a deep breath and knocked softly on the door to... their room. He guessed it was "their" room now. She answered it shyly, giving him a quiet "Welcome back, Clark" as she let him in.
Clark set the bag of groceries on the small table before he turned to her, taking his wallet out of his back pocket. "I hate to ask you to do this, but do you mind paying the front desk? I... don't really think I should be seen more than necessary. You know... if we don't want the reporters to migrate over this way..."
He handed her a few bills and she took them tentatively. Clark returned his wallet to its rightful place, and then shoved his hands in his front pockets, hunching his shoulders up. He wasn't used to needing anyone.
"Oh, don't worry. It's no problem at all. And..." She ducked her head and blushed a little. "Th.. thank you for this. For the motel, the food... everything. I'm not sure what I would have done without you."
She was thanking him. It was all backwards. *He* was supposed to be helping *her*. But she'd been the one to save him. He wasn't sure from what. The reporters, maybe? But something more, too. He was starting to feel it now. The depression was leeching away... slowly, but he was sure Lois *had* to have something to do with that. He only wished it'd been more pronounced... more... just more. He wished that all the implausible notions in his head of everything being okay when Lois was here were true. But his world hadn't righted on its axis as soon as she'd shown up.
He almost frowned, but realized she was still standing there, staring at her feet and waiting for a response.
"You're welcome, Lois. It's no problem at all. I'm happy to help. And... Thank *you* for letting me hide out here."
He still couldn't look her in the eye; having Lois see his weaknesses was downright embarrassing. But, all the same, he was grateful to her.
"Oh, I wouldn't call it hiding out. Just... an extended vacation." She looked around the room with a slight frown. "Though... maybe we should pretend we're in Paris or something. This might be considered almost a three star hotel there."
Her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. He couldn't help but smile with her, thankful for her humor. "Thanks."
"No problem," she said with a smile. "Now, I'll go pay the front desk, and then you'll have to show off your cooking skills for me, Flyboy."
***
Clark watched Lois push away her paper plate after she'd polished off a second round of spaghetti.
"Ouf. I'm full." She leaned back a bit and covered her stomach with her hands, exhaling audibly. "Thank you, Clark. That was the best meal I've had in years! Literally." She frowned a bit, her shoulders sagging, at her own words, but the smile returned quickly. "I really don't know how you do it. I mean, I tried to boil *instant* noodles and I failed. You made spaghetti the real way, and the sauce... homemade? Who does that? But it was good! Really, really good."
Clark chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it."
It was nice like this. He would even go as far as saying he felt lighthearted. That is... if you didn't count the pained looks she'd tried to mask during his seemingly innocent conversation. The weather had gotten old after two minutes, so he'd moved on to what he'd thought was safe territory - the recent changes in Metropolis since she'd been gone. But every so often, she'd flinched at the mention of something, like it hurt for her to think so much had gone on without her. That life had gone on when hers hadn't.
The silence between them now was comfortable... on the surface.
Clark was uneasy, though he wasn't sure why. He'd been able to keep himself from reliving the kiss in his mind; he couldn't afford not to. Something else was keeping him on edge.
He watched her scoot back a bit on the bed. They'd had to pull the table over to the bed to have another seat. "So... where do we go from here?"
She stared at him.
He heard her heart rate increase slightly. He'd broken the atmosphere. But they couldn't realistically sit there forever and stare in happy silence at each other. They had to *do* something.
The thought hit Clark like a locomotive.
Something *had* changed in him. It'd been so long since he'd felt the need to be anything but stagnant. A tiny bit of hope surged in him.
He was on his way back.
Clark watched her start to fidget. He hated that he was making her uncomfortable, but he *had* to know. Not just because she'd asked for his help and it'd be paramount in his ability to do so, but he *needed* to know where she'd been. Why he couldn't find her. Why he'd tracked her all the way to Kayes, miles from where she'd arrived in the Congo in Point Noire. Why the trail had gone dead. Literally.
"Lois, what happened in Kayes?"
He'd have sworn he heard her heart stop for the barest of seconds, and he knew in that instant, he'd screwed up. He'd been too abrupt. His mouth hadn't consulted the common sense part of his brain. He tried to say something else, to take it back, start the conversation again and not be a total jerk about it... but his vocal chords had suddenly gone on strike.
An inarticulate gasp made his head snap up again. Her jaw was slack and she was staring at him incredulously. "I never made it to Kayes."
TBC...
And if you get bored while waiting... Check this out. 
