Summary: After a full summer of rebuilding their friendship while Franklin Stern is rebuilding the Daily Planet, Lois and Clark make a plan to attend the re-opening carnival together. Lois is struggling with her feelings for two men, both of whom have said quite plainly that they don’t want a relationship with her. What is she supposed to do when her heart just won’t let go?
Author’s Note: Well, well...‘tis the 2nd Annual Christmas Ficathon (over on the L&C Fanfic MBs)! Last year, I was assigned to write Queen of the Capes’ story. And I barely squeaked it in under the deadline of January 6th. For this second ficathon, I was assigned to write Queenie’s story once again! And I was amused and thrilled, and had high hopes that magic would happen once again, though not necessarily the 30,000+ words of magic that
Yours to Discover ended up being.
Well, it’s January 10th, and I’m not done yet! Eep! But...I do have enough, technically, to post chapter 1...so here it is! For old times’ sake (and to give the muse a kick in the pants and fill her with adrenaline
), I’m going to start posting this even though it’s unfinished! Eek! I expect 3-4 chapters total, and it’s currently either 2/3 or 2.5/4 done (L&C and my muse are in charge—I am not).
As we all know from the substitute bonus fic that SuperBek wrote for Queenie (
Hot Cake Contest), her request was for: a very warm locale, a contest, cake.
A HUGE thanks to both SuperBek and lovetvfan, without whom, this story might not have made it at all!
Don’t Let Goby KSaraSara
Chapter 1
Clark wasn’t here yet. Instead, Lois was watching the opening ceremony for the Daily Planet’s Grand Re-Opening Carnival alone. Perry and Jimmy were off closer to the stage—which had been set up in the street right in front of the newly renovated building—and she was hanging at the back of the crowd, eyeing the sidewalk Clark should be sauntering down any minute now.
It was altogether too hot for the second week of September, and she found herself wishing she’d chosen the linen shorts after all. As it was, she could feel the damp heat of sweat marks soaking into her simple v-neck tee where the straps of her backpack rested. But she’d fussed in front of the mirror as though it mattered what she wore, as though choosing the jeans that made her butt look great would suddenly make Clark ask her out on a date or something.
She focused back on the stage for a moment, her heart clenching in her chest as she listened to Superman speaking at the podium, giving his thanks that the proceeds from the carnival would go to the Superman Foundation. He’d barely talked to her all summer. Was he avoiding her or was it just because her life wasn’t in as much jeopardy when she wasn’t actually working?
Did it even matter?
He’d made it pretty clear that he wanted no part in a romantic relationship with her. No, that wasn’t accurate. She knew he
wanted that—a romantic relationship with her—but he didn’t trust her.
But that was fine. Fine. Completely fine. She didn’t need Superman.
Superman was the unattainable dream anyway, the fantasy. She’d been fooling herself thinking that she was anything close to what Superman needed—regardless of how much he seemed to want something more than friendship.
But it didn’t matter. He didn’t trust her. And that was fine. Just fine.
Clark trusted her. He was still her friend even though she’d treated him horribly. They’d spent day after day together this summer—reconnecting, tentatively at first, and then deciding that friends and partners could still survive hard things. And as they’d watched movies and played games, she hoped desperately that it was enough—though sometimes she felt as though it would never be enough—to repair the damage she’d caused. The last few weeks, they had also hit the pavement, making sure they had the beat on the latest goings on, touching base with sources so that they could hit the ground running the second Franklin Stern opened those doors.
Metaphorically, anyway. Currently, Mr. Stern was cutting a ridiculously large ceremonial ribbon on the makeshift stage as Superman stood somewhat awkwardly next to him. A miniscule, petty part of her hoped he felt as uncomfortable as he looked. And she half wondered if anyone else could tell how uncomfortable the stage made him—the way his jaw ticked and how held himself so stiffly, glancing anywhere but the crowd as though he was just waiting for the moment when he could escape. He’d never been uncomfortable like that with her...except for that night.
But it didn’t matter. What did matter is that Clark wasn’t here yet. He’d promised they’d go together. Partners, he’d said. Friends. It probably didn’t mean anything that he hadn’t said best friends. She was probably reading too much into it. Heck, she’d been reading too much into everything all summer long, trying to figure out what Clark really felt about her.
And she was...stumped. And more than a little heartbroken, because any traces of that love she’d seen so plainly before—had worked too hard to ignore before—were just...gone. Vanished. Hidden behind this mask that was just ‘friend’ and not ‘best friend’. Or at least she hoped it was still there, something he was hiding rather than just nothing there at all—because she’d suffocated it into nonexistence.
There was no doubt that it’d been there before. Looking back...
<You had to have known...>She had known. She’d known. And she’d...what? Ignored him and stomped on his heart, agreed to marry a man she didn’t love—a monster—thinking that was the best chance she’d had at keeping her best friend in her life?
She almost cried out at the agony and frustration of the memory. If only he hadn’t sprung it on her, his confession. If only she’d had more time to think, more time to process. Maybe...maybe she would have...
No, she wouldn’t have been able to admit her feelings for him then. She was certain that it would have been too terrifying even if she’d had time to think and process.
But she was also certain that she wouldn’t have been so...Well, she’d been downright cruel to him in asking him to send Superman her way after she’d just turned him down so thoroughly. It was the part of last May that she liked to avoid thinking about the most. And it was why she was feeling a little bit resentful that Superman was here and Clark wasn’t.
Finally, Superman was shaking Mr. Stern’s hand, nodding in that way he did, and then he was lifting up and away, flying off into the clouds to wherever the heck he went. His personal life hadn’t been anything he’d ever been willing to share, and she wondered if she’d ever know.
Not that it mattered.
“Hey, Lois!” She heard Clark's voice from behind her and she turned around to find him trotting towards her in a pair of navy blue cargo shorts and a light gray t-shirt. “You beat me here,” he said cheerfully, holding up his travel-worn backpack by the top strap. “I forgot my change of clothes for the dunk tank and had to run back and get them.”
Irritation flickered through her and rose to the surface at the sight of the sheepish grin on his face that he so often paired with his trademark lame excuses. She managed to bite back the urge to gripe at him.
“You just missed Superman,” she told him instead, hoping that her voice didn't sound any certain way.
“Ah, oh well,” he said with a shrug as he slung his backpack over onto his shoulders.
Clark seemed lately to have this attitude of casual indifference toward Superman. Truth be told, it was nice to have a bit of a break from his usual subtle criticism of the hero. Though that petty part of her reared its head again and wondered where all that not-so-understated jealousy of Superman had gone to—it would at least indicate that he was thinking of her romantically again.
No, no. Jealousy was an ugly trait, one she fell victim to herself, try as she may to stop it, and she disliked it even more in a romantic partner.
So, no...she shouldn’t wish for jealousy. Simply wishing for his attention again, wishing for some sign that his feelings for her were true after all...that was what she should wish for.
“Lois, are you okay?”
“What? Huh?” He was looking at her, concerned. Oh. Right...words, conversation, speaking.... “I, uh, it’s just this heat getting to me.” She waved her hand in the air. “I think I might actually be looking forward to the dunk tank.”
He grinned at her. “I still can’t believe you signed up to be dunked.”
“What? You don’t think I’m a team player?” she huffed, mostly for show.
“Not historically, no.” His grin widened.
The irritation from his tardiness still lingered, but now it was edged with this uncomfortable feeling...not knowing anymore if their banter was actually flirty, as it had always somewhat seemed before, or if it was just a reflexive tendency of theirs. Natural. Casual. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew what flirty looked like between best friends...or friends. Or if it was normal. That was normal, right?
So was the touching, right? He was touching her shoulder now, probably to capture her wandering attention. Had she always gotten a warm, tingling sensation when he’d touched her? Her eyes wandered down to his bare forearm as she watched him check the time.
“Well, partner,” he started, his hand still on her shoulder, “we’re not set to get dunked until 1:00 and 1:30. What did you want to do to pass the time? Carnival games? Rides? Is it too early in the morning for caramel apples? I know you love caramel apples.”
Her heart flipped lightly that he’d remembered. But of course he had. He was Clark. Her kind, friendly, caring, and thoughtful...partner. She swallowed. “Well, we should...definitely do rides before any type of food.”
“Good call,” he said with a wry smile, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before dropping his hand back to his side. “So, what do you think—Gravitron or Ferris wheel?”
Lois smiled back at him, finally finding just a smidge of her equilibrium again. “Ferris wheel, for sure.”
***
Lois hadn’t consciously thought about the seating arrangements when she’d chosen the Ferris wheel. But now that she and Clark were settling into a bright blue passenger cabin, she was absolutely noting the close quarters of their seating for the ride. They each shoved their backpacks on the floor of the cabin between their own legs, and then when they straightened again, the ride attendant pulled the lap bar down over them. Lois noticed Clark flinch ever so slightly as the metal bar clanged and locked into place, and she wondered if he was afraid of heights or something.
Glancing down, she noticed how close their legs were, the material of his cargo shorts brushing gently against her jeans. Half a thought flashed through her mind that it was too bad this wasn’t a roller coaster with twists and turns that would cause them to bump closely to one another.
Their cabin rocked and jerked as it moved backward and upward to allow the next cabin to be loaded with passengers. Though they weren’t actually touching, Lois could sense that Clark had tensed up and he was grasping the lap bar tightly with both hands.
“A little afraid of heights?” she asked him gently.
“I, uh...” He looked at her with a strained smile. “I just get a little claustrophobic sometimes, is all.”
“Oh, did you want me to give you a little more room?” she asked as she shifted slightly, ready to scoot over if he needed her too, but reluctant to do so for purely selfish reasons.
“No! I mean—no, it’s okay!” he blurted out. “It’s...actually helpful to...have you closer.”
She couldn’t help but notice the slight roughness to his voice and just how quickly he’d protested her moving away from him, though she warned herself not to get her hopes up about it. Should she...would it be too obvious if she moved closer to him?
Before she could decide, the cabin rocked and shifted again as the ride attendant readied for the next passengers, and...well, she couldn’t be sure if the movement of the cabin had shifted Clark closer or if she’d done it subconsciously herself. But right now, they were hip to hip, and she was desperately wishing that she was wearing the linen shorts so she could feel what it was like to have his bare knee brushing against hers. Stupid jeans.
She looked back over at him and he gave her a hesitant smile, just a hint less tense than his last. “Is this your first time on a Ferris wheel?” she asked.
He nodded.
Her heart twisted a little with guilt. “Sorry, I didn’t realize...”
“No, it’s fine, Lois. Promise.” His smile widened and looked more like his usual one. “I’m sure once everyone’s loaded and it’s a smooth ride, I’ll enjoy myself.”
She eyed him, a little unsure, but took him at his word—and mostly at his smile, that one that made her stomach swoop. Her gaze flitted to his hand, still tightly gripping the lap bar, and impulsively, she put her hand over his, squeezing it gently.
“The view will make everything worth it, Clark. Just you wait and see. It’s really too bad it’s not nighttime because the Metropolis skyline is even more impressive then, with the lights of the city buildings all twinkling. Not that...well, you probably can’t get a phenomenal view of the skyline from here—it’s definitely an interesting location for a carnival Ferris wheel—and it’s not night, but it still should be pretty, and...”
Lois looked up to find him staring...and grinning. And her heart did an extra flip at the sight and intensity of it.
“I’m babbling, aren’t I? Sorry,” she said, ducking her head and feeling the blush start to rise through her cheeks.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice quiet as he shook his head and turned his hand palm up to hold hers.
Oh god. Her breath caught. The signs were back. They were back, right?
The cabin lurched again, backwards and upwards, and Clark squeezed her hand more tightly. Lois found herself speechless. She felt like she should be comforting or reassuring him somehow, but all she could focus on was the fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach and the way his hand felt so warm and so right with him holding it.
They’d not really held hands before. Sure, she usually found herself looping her hands around the crook of his elbow when they walked or linking her arm with his. But...holding hands seemed like...more. It sure felt like more.
“Are you okay, Lois?”
“Me? Am I okay? I should be asking you if you’re okay...are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” he said, reassuring her with a warm smile even though the cabin had just moved and rocked again.
A flush of warmth flooded through her that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. Things felt awkward and comfortable all at once, and she was completely unsure how that was even possible. All she knew was that she didn’t seem to want to ever let go of his hand.
Except the problem was that holding his hand was rendering her incapable of speech somehow. And they’d gotten past that—well, past the awkward silences and stilted conversations. They didn’t have trouble talking, not any more. But right now she was having to wrack her brain for even a scrap of something to say.
“I’ll bet Superman has a phenomenal view of the Metropolis skyline...” Clark said a bit absently, almost as though he was just thinking aloud.
Before the awkward silence could take root, she blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I didn’t—I don’t...I never went flying with him like that, Clark. I-I...promise. I’m sorry.” She ducked her head and felt a different kind of heat rising in her cheeks this time as she looked down at their clasped hands.
She wasn’t sure what answer, what reaction she expected, but she was surprised and relieved to find he hadn’t pulled his hand away. In fact, he was squeezing her hand once again, and when she looked up at him, she found a somewhat guilty expression on his face.
“No, I’m sorry, Lois. I didn’t mean...I’m not sure why I said that.” He paused and ran his free hand through his hair. She wondered if his frustration was at her or himself. “I didn’t mean to imply...of course, you—I mean...it sh-shouldn’t matter to me if you had or...not.”
“I...” She held his hand tightly and took a moment to gather herself before she found his gaze again. “I can tell, Clark. I can tell it matters to you. And I’m sorry I hurt you. We don’t...we don’t talk about it much. Seems like we talk about everything
but that day...that week...those weeks where I was anything but your best friend.” She dropped her eyes down to their hands and her voice fell to a whisper. “I wish I could take it all back.”
The ride lurched forward just then, rattling just a little until it hit a smoother glide in its rotation, and music had started too—some ill-suited instrumental diddy that seemed to warble through the old speakers. Her heart was in her throat. Clark probably hadn’t even heard her, at least not the most important part. He’d gotten to take it back...but he shouldn’t have. She was the one who had needed to, wanted to. Still wanted to.
She could feel the burn of tears threatening behind her eyes, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—cry here, not in front of Clark while she was...what? Trying to apologize? This was hardly the time or the place. And it wasn’t even an apology she was certain he wanted to hear. They’d avoided the topic all summer. He probably just wanted to move on and forget about it, especially if...if he’d been telling the truth the day he took it back.
But he still hadn’t let go of her hand. And she almost didn’t need to look to know that his eyes were still on her...that he was wearing a look of concern on his face...
And that’s exactly what she found when she looked up.
She swallowed hard to keep the tears at bay. The cabin swayed gently as it kept going around, but it rocked just a smidge harder as Clark shifted his body slightly to face her, his knee brushing along her jean-clad thigh.
“Lois, I wasn’t exactly being a good best friend, either...I...there are a lot of things I would do differently if I could.”
“Like?” She almost felt guilty asking, but she had to know.
Her guilt grew as she watched him search almost desperately for the right words, as though he was terrified the wrong ones would make him feel more claustrophobic than he was already feeling. “I’m sorry, Clark. I—you don’t have to answer that. It wasn’t fair of me to ask. Just...it’s okay.”
He looked only half relieved, giving her a weak smile.
She held her breath for a moment and looked forward, fumbling again for words, and she sighed with relief when she saw they were only a few seconds away from the top of the ride. “We haven’t even glanced at the skyline yet!” she said too cheerfully. And then her heart sank as they rounded the top and saw...buildings. The ferris wheel wasn’t even tall enough to get a good view down 7th Avenue. “Oh...okay...I...guess there isn’t a view. Now I feel dumb. We can get a much better view of the skyline from the roof of the Daily Planet. Maybe we should just go up there next, after we’re done here? I’ve been up there once or twice...”
“Lois...”
“...and I promise there actually
IS a great view of the skyline from there...”
“Lois...”
“As long as they haven’t changed things, all you have to do is bring a stapler up to prop open the door with so you don’t get locke—“
“Lois!”
“What?”
“It’s okay. We’re here to have fun. The carnival. It’s not about the skyline.”
“But...I want to see the skyline with you,” she whispered to herself, letting her wish and her bravery dissolve and fade right into the terrible carnival music. “You’re right, Clark. Absolutely right.” She swallowed thickly. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the ride and figure out what to do next.”
She sat up straighter and looked forward, not quite ready to meet his eyes again—so warm and forgiving when she hardly deserved it. And it wasn’t until he squeezed her hand that she realized he’d never let go of it.
to be continued…Comments
