Story TOCChapter 4Lois had been worried that after their fight, their almost-date was doomed. But in true Clark fashion—though a bit more quickly than he usually relented—he was back to his calm and charming self. She half wondered if he could tell just how scared she was, but she was reluctant to admit it to him, especially since he was fearful enough on his own without knowing.
She let herself try and relax again in his presence, enjoying the way things were starting to feel a little more easy, more natural. It felt like that night in the honeymoon suite again, bantering and teasing, but also talking in that way they always did, the way she really couldn’t talk to anyone else.
But it was more tonight. Maybe it was the intensity of the danger hanging over their heads. Maybe it was the way he’d managed to temper his fear and bring his protectiveness down from controlling to caring.
Or maybe it was that invisible line they had crossed, making their way from best friends territory to something more. That underlying current, that whisper of a thrill threatening to become so much more than a whisper. Throughout the night, his little touches seemed to linger, as did hers, and the way he looked at her...well, she was pretty sure it wasn’t the single glass of champagne making her feel warm and flushed.
She glanced over at him for the hundredth time that evening, taking in the addicting sight of the way his biceps looked in his short sleeve t-shirt. God, he was gorgeous.
“Oh! Here’s an easy one,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Let's see if you can guess it.” He winked at her before he read the clue. “Staple crop of the Midwest. Five letters.”
“Oh, that’s easy. Wait. Five letters?”
“Five letters.”
“Wheat!”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your partner, your
best friend, hails from the Midwest. This should be easy!”
“To be fair, ‘wheat’ seems like an entirely logical guess, Mr. Greenjeans. Corn is the obvious answer, but it’s not five letters.” She frowned. Maybe she was still far too distracted. “Do they
not grow wheat in Kansas?”
“Well, they do. It just isn’t the answer,” he said, his mouth pursed, clearly restraining his amusement.
Her eyes narrowed as she thought, scanning her brain. Surely this was easier than she was making it.
“Gourd?”
“Good guess. Nope.”
“Grass? Thyme? Cacti?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Cacti, Lois? It’s Kansas, not Bonanza.”
“Oh, well, sure. You basically wrote this crossword didn't you? Are you working with Joe on the side?”
“On the off-chance I might be playing the crossword with you competitively on a boat four months later?”
“Maybe. I never know with you, Kent,” she said, her mouth twitching into a wry smile. “Give me a hint,” she said.
“Okay...this word
was somewhere at the festival we went to in Smallville.”
“Smallville? That was well over a year ago, Clark! And we already established it can’t be corn.”
“Well, it’s not
exactly corn...”
She looked at him, searching his face for the answer, but finding only her patient partner, his eyes warm and twinkling. She softened, feeling somehow more secure in her defeat. “I’m stumped. I have no idea. And I don’t want to bicker about this anymore, Clark. It sets a bad precedent, fighting on our almost-first date.”
“We aren’t bickering, Lois, we’re sparring,” he said, mischievously.
“Editing my copy again, Kent?” she looked at him with mock irritation. “Whatever you call it, let’s call a truce.”
Of all the reactions he could have given her, he smiled, almost chuckling, and her heart felt a bit giddy for it. She was grateful for the levity. “Truce,” he said, that soft and sure tone in his voice, as he patted her knee gently. “But for the record, I love sparring with you.”
Her heart flipped—she secretly did too, love sparring with him. And he wasn’t mad, he was gleefully messing with her. The roller coaster of emotions they’d both been through today was throwing her for a bit of a loop. She took another deep breath, this one from relief, her thigh bumping against his as she relaxed into the seat. There was another flush of heat throughout her body as his thumb wandered in small strokes on the outside of her knee, and she turned her head to find him waiting, a soft expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, Lois. I guess I thought you remembered the Corn Festival a bit more than you do. Remember the Amazing Maize Maze we went through?”
“Oh god, of course! Maize is corn. Duh, Lois!” She felt a bit dumb, or at least off balance, and not just because his hand was still on her knee, his thumb still rubbing gently. She searched his eyes for any sign of him feeling slighted, hating the idea that she might have hurt his feelings in any way.
“Hey,” he said, a good-natured smirk playing at his mouth. “You’re a city girl; that was over a year ago. I shouldn’t have expected one work trip to Kansas to be burned into your memory.”
His words were graciously dismissive, light and teasing as always. But his lopsided smile and something in the way he’d said it told her something she had long wondered, ever since he spotted her in that dress, and won her that bear, and nearly been shot before her eyes. He had seen that trip differently, too. She suddenly felt the urge to correct the record.
“It wasn’t
just a work trip, Clark. And, it
was, you know...” she trailed off, her mind suddenly derailed by the intensity of his gaze.
“Was what?” he asked.
“Memorable. My time in Smallville.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the apprehension clenched at her—afraid of being too honest, too vulnerable, and she wondered how they’d gone so quickly from teasing and sparring to blurting out their true feelings. There were reasons she had never let him know, reasons she’d even tried to deny to herself, the feelings she’d had on that trip.
But there were also reasons why she slept every night with that teddy bear on her bed. Reasons why she’d tried so desperately to find ways to keep him in her life when everything seemed to be falling apart around her. Reasons why she’d taken a leap of faith—faith in Clark, faith in whatever this feeling was—when he’d asked her out.
She thought about all his own moments of apprehension, the seemingly casual brush offs of her hesitation in answering him about the date, as well as his fierce panic this morning and just ten minutes ago that something might happen to her. She remembered there were also reasons why she’d insisted this be their almost-first date.
And there were a whole lot of reasons why she needed to take another leap of faith and tell him how she’d felt. He deserved that much, didn’t he?
“Lois?” he said, giving her knee a gentle squeeze.
“I still have the bear, you know.” Her voice was quiet and a little hesitant. She wasn't exactly sure
how to tell him.
They were close enough that she could both hear and feel his movement when he inhaled sharply, though it was barely audible, and the way his eyes were now shining as he looked at her made her heart swell.
“The dress, too.” She ducked her head, his gaze a little intense when her words registered. “I just...never know when to wear it.”
“On our next date,” he said all in one breath.
When she looked back at him, his eyes darted away and then back again, as if he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. She was finding herself a bit short of breath, and her gaze kept wandering between those lips of his and those deep chocolate eyes she felt certain she could get lost in. Happily. Forever.
Oh god. She shifted, sitting back slightly from him, startled by her own thoughts and feeling more than a little off balance. Even so, she couldn’t stop her hand from moving to cover his hand, still on her knee, and she thrilled at the tingling sensation and warmth that spread through her body from that point of contact. What, exactly, were they doing here? What was the protocol for “almost dating?” They’d just been doing a crossword puzzle, for heaven’s sake, and now they were...about to kiss?
Her eyes cast about the room, suddenly needing to be anywhere but staring into those eyes so filled with wonderful, terrifying ideas reflecting back at her. She needed a breather.
“I’m...just going to use the...” she stood up slowly, excusing herself to the bathroom. She wanted to splash some water on her face and freshen up a bit. He nodded, and seemed grateful for the chance to take a break from...whatever that was. As she left the room, she swore she heard him exhale. Thank god she wasn’t the only one.
When she returned, he was relaxed against the sofa, one arm outstretched along the back where she had been sitting. A small styrofoam box caught her eye. This was new.
“What’s that?” she asked, her ever-present curiosity suddenly in overdrive. She tucked herself back into the corner of the sofa, but shifted her body sideways slightly so she could face him.
Clark shook his head and smiled, though she could see he, too, was still affected by the intensity of the moment. “Uh-uh. We have two more clues.” He tapped the puzzle sitting on his other leg.
She cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “When did you even order it? I was next to you when you placed the order!”
He shrugged and smiled as if he had no idea how it’d gotten there. “Maybe it was magic.”
“Is that so?” she challenged him, leveling a dubious glare at him. “Wasn’t it just yesterday when you said ‘Magic always has an explanation’?”
He opened his mouth then closed it again, and she couldn’t deny the small thrill that went through her at being able to tease him with his own words. And then a slightly clouded expression crossed his face. She touched his hand, settling it over his and wondered what he was thinking.
He turned his hand over so that they were palm to palm, and closed his fingers around hers loosely.
He gave a little sigh, but then smiled at her again. “We are on a houseboat, on a half-soaked sofa, with nothing but newspapers for entertainment. Not to mention the fact that there’s a dangerous man who is obsessed with you on the loose...on what was supposed to be our first date.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Instead of needing to know how...allow me this small moment to dazzle you, Lois.”
The look in his eyes was playful, but also pleading, almost desperate, as if he needed her to drop it. As if the box contained the secret to forgetting about formerly dead murderous ex-fiancés and botched first dates. And maybe the secret to something more.
As desperate as she had been to temper his fear, even more so, she wanted to show him she wanted this, this dating thing. The chance of a real, potentially functional, honest-to-goodness romantic relationship with her best friend? How could she say no?
“How about we skip the rest of the crossword and you show me what's in the box?” she offered as she ran her thumb gently across the back of his hand.
He rewarded her with a grin that could easily light up the whole room if the other bulb ended up being defective too, and she felt her stomach swoop at the sight of it.
Clark looked directly into her eyes. “Deal,” he murmured. She swallowed. At this point, it was almost as if they were playing a flirty game of chess without the board. And, if pressed, she would fully admit that she was losing, handily. But—this was part of it, right? Part of being in a real relationship, where you can be vulnerable and show the other person how you really feel, and trust they won’t run screaming for the hills. She straightened her shoulders, trying to regain her composure.
"Okay, farmboy. Dazzle me," she said, feeling herself getting warm all over again. Warm and...something else.
Gently, he disengaged his hand from hers and leaned forward to the coffee table to put the paper and pencil down and reach for the box in question.
And then it happened. A strong wave of nausea rolled through her, and she bolted for the bathroom.
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