Notes: Hello, all. I'm new to the message board (though I've been reading L&C fanfic since after I got the first season DVD set for Christmas 2005).

Anyway, I wrote this fic last night, and thought I'd share it with you all. I probably could've taken it further than I did, but I didn't want to go into a full-on re-write of the episode it's based on. If anyone wants to tackle that part of it, go right ahead--this fic's staying where it ends.

More notes follow the story.

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Description: What if Perry hadn't interrupted Clark's response to Mayson's invitation in "The Eyes Have it?"

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THE EYES UNFETTERED
by DSDragon (DASWillow783@gmail.com)
Rated G
Submitted: February 2006

For disclaimer, see author's notes at the end of the fic.

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" . . . so how 'bout it? Pick you up tomorrow after work?" Mayson Drake finished her explanation as Clark tuned back into the sound of her voice. He had been super-eavesdropping on Lois' suspicious phone call and hadn't heard most of what Mayson had been saying.

Lois hung up the telephone and started on her way as Clark caught the tail end of Mayson's invitation. Shaking his head a bit, Clark began, "That sounds great, Mayson, but . . ."

Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Lois stop and tip-toe back to her desk as Mayson asked, ". . . but?"

Once again bringing his mind back to the matter at hand, Clark frowned slightly and said, "But we barely know each other.

There are things about me you don't know--that you may never know--"

Clark heard a small gasp coming from the direction of Lois' desk as Mayson interrupted.

"I know enough to know you're a great guy and I want to get to know you better, to see if there can be anything more between us."

At that point, Clark realized he had been fooling himself. As frustrating as his relationship with Lois was, at least she liked all of him--in one way or another. Clark couldn't say the same about Mayson, whose obvious disdain for his alter-ego would put a serious crimp in any relationship with her.

He felt Mayson's hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Clark?"

Clark blinked. "Mayson, I do care for you, but I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry." He looked into her eyes, mentally kicking himself for causing the hurt he found in them.

He continued, determined to see the conversation through to its end. "Under the circumstances, I don't think there can be anything more between us."

Somewhere in the background, Lois crossed her arms, and Clark watched Mayson swallow, nod, and heard her heartbeat triphammer as she spoke.

"I see," she said, her voice huskier than usual. She turned to go. "I'll just . . . go, then. Goodbye, Clark."

As Mayson's figure disappeared into the elevator, Clark had only a second to regret his words before Lois had latched onto his forearm, gritting a harsh "Conference room," into his ear.

"Lois, what--"

"NOW, Kent," was the only reply until the door to the conference room was firmly shut and the blinds closed behind them.

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Lois was spitting mad.

The nerve of him, keeping something like this from her! He was her best friend! She told him everything! Well, maybe not EVERYTHING . . . ok, not even most things, but that was beside the point.

The point was, Clark Kent was a dirty, rotten, no-good, Kryptonian FINK!

And he was going to pay.

After shutting the blinds to the outside world of the busy newsroom, Lois whirled, crossed arms and feet spread in unconscious mockery of Superman's most famous pose. "All right," she said. "Spill it."

Still a bit confused, Clark asked, "Spill WHAT, Lois? Does this have something to do with that phone call you got a few minutes ago?"

"Forget the phone call, Kent. I want answers, and I want them NOW."

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"Ok then," Clark acquiesced, still a bit flummoxed. "Uhm, what are the questions?"

"Oh, puh-lease." Lois rolled her eyes, arms finally falling from their tense position. She stalked forward, mocking Clark's earlier conversation with Mayson. "'There are things about me that you don't know--that you may never know--' Ring a bell, Partner? Or should I go on? Maybe, 'Under the circumstances, I don't think I can,' will strike a chord?"

At Lois' familiar alteration of his conversation with Mayson, Clark's eyes widened. Absentmindedly, Clark reached a hand up to straighten his glasses, then thought better of it, removing them instead.

"You're right, Lois," he interjected. "I do owe you an explanation."

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Lois blinked.

Surely it couldn't be that easy. He wouldn't just AGREE with her, that just wasn't . . . wasn't CLARK. Clark was supposed to hem and haw, maybe stutter a bit, and then give her that goofy grin he always got when he didn't want to explain

something. He wasn't supposed to GIVE IN!

"Well, okay then." Lois recovered from her shock and sat down in a nearby chair, gesturing for Clark to do the same as she folded her hands over her crossed knees. She fixed him with her best "Me reporter, you source" stare, and said, "Talk."

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Just as Clark was opening his mouth to explain, Lois growled to herself.

"No, no, no, I've got to go meet that source."

Flabbergasted by the most recent change of subject, Clark still managed to ask, "Do you want me to come with you?"

Lois shook her head. "No, he said to come alone." She paused. "But you could fly over the park just in case."

Clark smiled. "Absolutely."

Lois stood up as Clark came around the conference table to walk with her out of the conference room. Before he could open the door, however, Lois turned to him and said, "But don't think you're getting out of that explanation, Buster."

Clark followed her out onto the news floor and watched her get into the elevator before he made his way to the roof. Under his breath, he added to the closing automated doors, "Wouldn't dream of it, Partner."

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Author's Notes:

This is not my first fanfiction, but it IS my first L&C fanfic. I've been a fan of Lois & Clark since it first aired in 1993 (I was ten years old then), but did not discover the fanfic until I got the first season on DVD for Christmas in 2005, and my sister bought me season two a month later.

At first, I thought I'd just read everyone else's stories, but something about the second-season episode "The Eyes Have it" bugged me just enough to get my muse to work again--before then, I hadn't written anything truly creative in at least a year.

My muse must've been pretty happy though, because this story came out pretty much fully-formed within half an hour.

Oh, and as for disclaiming, I don't own the characters or the first situation mentioned in the story above, and parts of the dialogue come from the episode "The Eyes Have it," as well as the episode, "Barbarians at the Planet." I couldn't begin to tell you who actually DOES own them--I suppose I COULD look up the writers for those two episodes, but I'm not that industrious.

Any comments, suggestions, or questions, please e-mail me at DASWillow783@gmail.com.


"You take turns, advise and protect one another, even heal or be healed when the going gets too tough. I know! That's not a game--that's friendship!" ~Shelly Mezzanoble, Confessions of a Part-Time Sorceress: A Girl's Guide to the Dungeons & Dragons Game

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