Okay, so this is my first story. Finally, I've posted what's been in my head for about a year now, and just in time for my 21st birthday! Yay! Anyway, feedback is very much welcome and appreciated! Thanks are in order to a few people: my roommate, Lizzie, who BRed for me, and to the fine writers on this board who inspired me to write in the first place. Thanks, y'all! Any typos or grammatical mistakes are purely my own, however, and I take full responsibility. :p This story takes place during The Prankster.
Oh, and for fun, this story is based on a song I've recently heard for the first time (although it's not new). See if you can pick the lyrics out! I've included every line, minus the identifying details.
Usual disclaimers apply, of course. After all, no one wants to sue a poor college student.
~With Sweet Understanding (1/2)
"Maybe, but I'd feel better if you stayed here tonight." He could see the thinly-veiled relief register in her eyes, despite her attempt to cover her pleasure.
"Oh, I think you're overreacting, but if you insist . . . " She turned and curled up next to him, a sarcastic and dismissive look on her face.
"Gee I'm sorry I had to twist your arm." He was glad she had come. She was more keyed up than he had realized. "Speaking of which, turn around so that your back's to me." She gave him a wary glance but obeyed his request.
"What are you doing, Clark?" His hands started to knead the tense muscles in her shoulders and back, releasing the familiar warmth that came with relaxation. "Oh, Clark, thank you," she said deeply, entranced by the movement of his hands.
He smiled. "Here, lift up your head a little; let me get your neck. You needed it, after the stress of the past few days." He applied some heat vision to her muscles to help them loosen. Quietly he stated, "He really got to you."
She turned, a bit of annoyance in her expression. "Clark-"
He stopped the massage and frowned grimly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lois; I didn't mean it like that. But I think that had anyone else been through the emotional trauma you've had in the past few days, they'd be in a small, padded room by now. You're tougher than anyone I know, but even so . . . " he trailed off, letting her digest his words. His hands resumed their motions, and her hair fell into her face as she slowly bowed her head, either giving in to the relief she found in his care or her embarrassment in their current situation. She didn't speak for some time, and he let it rest, hoping that at least his ministrations were helping to calm her down. Leave it to him to completely bungle the moment and offend her yet again with his ineptitudes. He sighed and rolled his eyes.
***
Lois felt as though someone had punched her in the stomach. Tough? Clark thought she was tough? That was great, she mused sarcastically; here she was, in his apartment, scared, and he still thought she was *tough*? Every fiber in her being was screaming that she was a wimp for running to Clark with her problems. Sure, Perry had offered her a room, but she wasn't comfortable letting Perry know that she was scared, especially since he had served as her surrogate father since she'd joined the Planet.
Why Clark, then? Why tonight, of all nights, did she allow herself to escape to his place, knowing that he'd take her in under his wing? Because, she realized abruptly, she enjoyed his protectiveness. Not that Clark would ever know, of course. She couldn't have him knowing that he held any kind of power over her. Except, of course, the magic he was currently working on her tired muscles.
"Clark, stop that. I can feel that you're tired." She swatted his hands away from her; she couldn't keep her distance from him when he was so close, permeating her senses. Trying to avoid the thoughts that invaded her mind like Huns destined for China, Lois stood up, suddenly overcome by his presence, and fled to the window, trying to avoid looking at him.
"Lois - " She could feel his confusion even in his one strangled word. She heard him stand and follow her. "Lois, what's wrong?" Stopping to stand beside her, she felt him tentatively caress her shoulder, and she turned to him, her eyes downcast.
"I'm so used to being able to take care of everything myself, Clark. I'm not used to depending on others. This is . . . I'm not . . . not used to this." She turned back to face the windows of his balcony, refusing to face him, embarrassed.
"I know," he stated quietly. "It's difficult, Lois. But I want-" He cut himself off deliberately, sparking Lois' curiosity. She whirled around and looked directly at Clark, who was now avoiding her inspection.
"Want what?" she asked.
He avoided her question. "Never mind, Lois. Do you want some coffee?" He turned from her to the kitchen, trying to change the subject.
"Clark!" she commanded sharply as she grabbed his shirt. He snapped back as if he were attached to a bungee cord and turned around. After she let go of him, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Clark, don't hide from me! Show me your face!" He met her eyes uncomfortably. "What is it that you're trying to say? That you want me to leave? That you want me to go because you're involved with Mayson? Oh, I get it. I'm infringing on time with Mayson. She was supposed to drop by tonight. Sorry that my impending murder is getting in the way of your love life, Clark."
He sighed. "I want you to stay here," she heard him mutter under his breath as his cheeks burned. "Not that you need me to keep you safe, of course," he amended, dropping his gaze.
Initially, she had felt defensive, but a higher level of thinking had overridden her basic impulses. Was Clark that afraid of her reactions? Suddenly she realized that he was unsure how she'd take his boy scout attitude, but, after looking at him, her anger subsided, replaced with a feeling she hadn't ever experienced before and that, to her knowledge, didn't even have a name. Was it something to be feared?
Deflated, she responded. "No, I don't, but I like that you care about my safety." She smiled, almost sadly, as she subconsciously petted his upper arm, feeling the soft skin under her palm. When had she become someone to fear?
He cocked his head, unsure of her intentions. "You do? I thought you found me overbearing."
Her smile disappeared. "Clark, this whole thing is . . . overwhelming. I don't know what to do. And I feel embarrassed, asking for your help. But I need it now. I need you."
***
Had she really just said that? That she needed him? Or was is a figment of his overactive imagination? No, it couldn't be, he rationalized, because he could feel the prickle of movement that her fingers traced on his arm.
Dumbfounded, he repeated, "You - you need me?" He watched as she squirmed away from his intense scrutiny and again faced the windows of the balcony. The patch of skin that had just been released from her touch felt cold. He crossed his arms across his chest, suddenly self-conscious and unsure. Could it be that she needed him for more than just protection? Could he dare to hope?
"T-to make sure Griffin doesn’t come after me tonight. I'm scared, Clark, more scared than I've ever been," she added shyly. Her words shimmered with fear, and tears started to well up in her eyes.
Faced with the emotional side of Lois, he caved in and abandoned his promise to himself to keep some distance between the two of them. He opened his arms and drew her into his embrace. She came willingly. "Lois, you're okay. I know things were bad, but now they're okay," he said, wiping one stray tear from her cheek. "I'm here, standing beside you, and I'll never let anything happen to you, I swear." She burrowed into his chest as he sighed, feeling the sense of peace that he always found in her arms. He added softly, his voice cracking with emotion, "I'd never let anyone hurt you."
She shifted in his embrace to look up at him, tears still twinkling like diamonds in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"
The answer had always been in his eyes, and he hoped that she wouldn't see it now. He prayed that she wouldn't retreat from him, acting skittish as always. "Of course, Lois," he affirmed gently.
She seemed stunned by his admission, and slowly she fell out of their embrace. "Clark, I - I need a few minutes. I'll be in the bathroom." She turned around abruptly and almost ran to the bathroom.
Damn. Damn! He had scared her, maybe more than Griffin had, with his emotions. He cursed himself. When would he learn that he needed to give her time, that she wasn't ready? Frustrated, he paced back and forth, both awaiting and dreading her return.
***
~ Until next time!
Lyrics Copyright 1982 Trunksong Music, Ltd.
