Again, thanks for all the wonderful feedback! By request, here's part two for your viewing pleasure (lol):
From Part One:
"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.
***
Lois felt numb, and she prepared for bed as if in autopilot. "Put hair up in a ponytail, wash off the mascara, wipe the lipstick away, brush teeth, floss . . . " she muttered; the monotony of doing normal things helped her to sort out the whirlwind that had suddenly become her mind. She was reminded of what he had said once during their stay at the Luxor while they had competed for space in the bathroom. 'You don't need makeup, Lois. You're pretty without it.' His words, innocent enough, haunted her while she scoured her face with a washcloth, hoping the sting would take her mind off of Clark.
Dammit! She didn't want to think about Clark! She *couldn't* think about what she had just seen in his eyes. What she had seen had left her panicked. She knew.
He had lied. He loved her.
Oh, dear God, what had she done? What was she supposed to do now?
She sat down on the side of the bathtub and rested her chin in her hands, strands of hair falling into her face. Under her breath she repeated "oh my God" as if it would save her from her internal chaos.
All those times. All those times she insulted him and belittled him and ignored him. Even when she was about to marry Lex . . . And yet he still loved her.
But the worst part was that his admission had made her see just what had lain in her heart, buried under false pretences and insecurities: she loved him, too. And she had come too close to admitting it tonight. His caring and compassion had lulled her into some sort of trance, a trance she just barely escaped. Away from him she found the strength to bury her feelings yet again.
Did she want to, though?
Hadn't that been the question that had kept her up at night for so many months? She'd wanted to tell him that she loved him that day at the Planet, that bittersweet day when everything went so right and yet so very wrong. After leaving the Planet, she had gone home, changed into pajamas, and sat at her window, looking aimlessly into the night sky, thinking. She had ruthlessly tried to convince herself that his interruption had been a saving grace. But now, tonight while he had held her in his embrace, she knew that she loved him, that she had loved him for a long time but had been too scared to admit it. Tonight she realized that his proposal in the park had been the real truth: through everything he had always loved her. Tears threatened to pour from her eyes, but with a deep intake of breath she tried to ignore the emotions that went along with her introspection. Logic precariously took hold, and her mind kept reeling out inane questions. What would work be like? What would Perry think? Would Clark make her change the byline to 'Kent and Lane?' What if they got married or, God forbid, divorced? Would their relationship change her relationship with Superman? Did Clark want children? Would his parents approve of her as their future daughter-in-law?
But one serious and pressing question, however, was at the forefront of her mind. What was she going to say to Clark?
***
He had had to physically hold himself back from entering the bathroom while Lois had appealed to a higher power for strength. He knew that if he barged in he would pay the consequences, so he tried to content himself by anxiously wringing his hands. The sound of her pleas shattered his heart as if it were a pane of cracked glass. Still fighting the urge to break down the flimsy wooden door, he slid his hand down the brick wall in a show of regretful powerlessness and then turned away from the door, leaning against it.
He was supposed to be the strongest man in the world, but Lois' whimpers turned him into a puddle of quivering jell-o. All his life he'd fought against someone, something that was physical and could stand in front of him. How was he supposed to do battle with memories?
The door creaked open and Lois plodded out, her eyes downcast and focused internally. With puffy, red eyes she finally, slowly, painfully looked up at Clark, focusing on him with visible effort. She didn't say a word.
He fought the urge to reach out to her and give her comfort, and instead he reached over to the bedside table. "Here, take my Kleenex." She took the tissue from his outstretched hand with a small but tight smile.
"Thanks, Clark." He watched her warily as she blew her nose, sniffled, and tossed the tissue into the trash can. "I'm sorry I ran out like that." She shifted her weight, unsure of herself and, he realized, of his reaction to her sudden flight.
He sighed. Suddenly it all seemed so clear. "I'm sorry I scared you, Lois. I didn't want you to be afraid of me, and I screwed it all up. I'm supposed to be protecting you from Griffin, not becoming like him."
She cocked her head slightly. "I'm not afraid of you, Clark." She bit her lip.
He moved slowly over to the couch and she followed, sitting next to him. "Then . . . what . . . ?"
She interjected, "I've been afraid of myself. Afraid to let anyone get close to me again after my previous federal disasters. I started out thinking that I'd meet a man, a really nice guy, and then I’d follow him blindly. He'd snap his fingers and I would say, 'sure,' just to please him, thinking that he actually cared about my well-being. It was stupid, I guess, because they all hurt me in the end. Especially Claude. But I had hurt myself more in the process. I had lost my internal sense of what was right and wrong. I really lost myself."
Clark patted her knee softly, coaxingly to keep her talking. She had spoken so rarely about her past, and he wanted, needed to hear what made this incredible woman tick.
"You know my family life has been horrible. You grew up in Leave it to Beaver-ville, and I grew up in Jerry Springer City. Daddy left early after we were in school, working constantly on those robot body parts for accident victims. And Mama was poor, broken by his neglect. She started drinking soon after I was in high school. So I obviously didn't have the best role models, but I was determined to make my relationships work, just because I'd seen the horror that could be a relationship. But every time I ended up with a broken heart and he'd end up with either my dignity or my story."
Clark had to hide his smile. Weren't her dignity and her story the same thing?
She sighed, and he could see the courage rise in her face. "So I've been afraid, Clark, not of you, but of what you stand for. I couldn't imagine losing you like the others just because you mean so much to me. You're not like the others; you don't give me orders and you don't condescend. You're a decent guy, and that scared me because I thought that decent guys didn't exist anymore, save Superman. Actually, he purified me, in a way, because he taught me that nice guys *do* exist."
He flinched slightly at the mention of his alter-ego, but she was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice.
"But Superman's only my friend, and I somehow knew that he couldn't be mine because he wasn't what I really wanted. And when I realized that, I really, truly looked at you.” She paused, concentrating deeply on what she was saying, but she seemed determined to continue. “Over the past year and a half, I've learned how to be the girl inside me instead of the ‘mad dog’ I'm known for at the Planet. You've shown me that I can be good, I can be *me,* instead of being someone else’s opinion of what was ‘right.’ You see, Clark, I didn't want to admit that I had feelings for you because I was so scared you'd take advantage of me, the real me, like everyone else has in the past. Now that I’ve found what it is to be me, I didn’t want to lose myself to someone again. But ever since you walked out of the elevator and into my life, you’ve made me question my reasons for constructing the barriers I’ve put around to protect me. I finally realized that I don’t have to lose myself to be with you. No one’s ever become as close as you have to me.” She sighed and continued softly, “Nobody ever treated me kindly like you have, you know."
He started. Lois had feelings for him? Lois had *had* feelings for him? "Lois, are you saying--"
"Oh, Clark, please understand that it's still strange and frightening. I--I can't deny that I have feelings for you, but for losers like I've been in the past, it's so hard to say those words . . . to admit anything."
He melted. "Lois, you’ve never been a loser. And you don't need to hurry into anything just because you think you should or that I expect it. I'd prefer us not to rush." He smiled at her as he stroked her hand, and she reciprocated the smile. "I know you need time to adjust to all of this. We both do."
A smile borne of surprise and gratitude plastered her face. "Clark, why is it that you are always there to provide me with such sweet understanding, just when I need it most?" She leaned forward and briefly touched her lips to his, catching him off-guard. Initially she had meant to pull away, keeping it just a peck on the lips, but at the moment they touched she seemed to think better of it. His senses went into overdrive as he pulled her into his embrace, and instinctively he moaned. She reciprocated his need with her own, moving into his arms willingly.
Suddenly he broke away from the kiss, gulping for air while reaching to hold her face in his hands. He tried very hard to concentrate on his thoughts instead of his feelings. "Lois, I don’t want you to be afraid of me, of us. I don’t want to seem just like all the other men you’ve dated before. Before we start . . . this . . . tell me that you’re letting go of your past, that there won’t be anything between us; tell me the memories are clean washed away," he demanded breathlessly.
"Clean as the morning," she responded, her eyes still concentrating on his lips hungrily.
He panted shallowly, waiting for her retreat, but it never came. Gulping, he closed his eyes, refusing to consider whether she would reject him now that he was finally laying it on the line. He was in too deep to escape like he had before; he couldn’t lie to her again. Unable to hold back for much longer he pleaded, "Lois, I couldn’t handle it if you weren’t serious about us, about our relationship. Please, tell me this feeling, what we’re feeling right now, will last 'til forever."
She smiled and finally looked up into his eyes, the expression in his gaze telling her everything she needed to know. "Clark, we don't have to pretend anymore." She caressed his cheek with her left thumb. "We both know that it's love. We just have to give it time."
He beamed, suddenly the happiest man in the world. With both of them laughing and crying joyously, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace. Softly he revealed, "I love you, Lois." He kissed the crown of her head before she looked up at him in adoration, suddenly not frightened of anything.
Smiling, she slumped into his chest comfortingly, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love you too, Clark."
~End
Again, lyrics and lines from the script belong to the respective parties.
