Like I said before, this is a simply awesome chapter, Caroline.
I can't tell you how much I love this little snippet:
He’d spent a sleepless night mired in his own guilt and dishonesty, pacing the floor...and walls...and ceiling...of his hotel room.
It reminds me of an amazing old dance interlude with Fred Astaire, where the king of elegant 1940-ish romance was dancing on the floor, walls and ceiling of a room. Somehow I can see Clark moving on his walls and ceiling with exactly the same fluid grace as Fred Astaire, but he would not do it to show that he could, but to work his frustrations off. What a lovely, poignant image of the young Superman unhappily in love!
Those walls had seen what he had done; they knew his guilt...and his pleasure in it.
Wonderful.
Her sweater had graced that chair. In his imagination, he could still see the echo of its bright pink splash against the chair’s scarred wooden slats.
Irresistible - and so vivid, that bright splash of pink against what I would like to think of as the drab colors of the room. You just can't
not look at that pink highlight. It's irresistible. It's like Lois herself: it stands out, it captures your attention, and it doesn't let you go. To me, that pink sweater is like a symbol and a summary of their giddy, irresponsible, but wonderful night of love.
The bed still held her scent, and even though the sheets had been changed, if he pressed his face to her pillow, his sensitive nose could find her perfume. It was rich and musky, with nothing cloying or floral about it. He knew little of women’s perfumes, but he knew he’d liked hers.
And this too is absolutely lovely - Lois's scent is still in that room, so some kind of aspect or echo of her is still there. But her
actual presence in that room is a thing of the past - it is, in fact, firmly locked and bolted away in the past. Lois herself, her softness, her palpable physical presence, is hopelessly gone from the room, but the memories of everything that she was and did there during one night keeps oozing and bleeding into that cheap hotel room.
And then there was the floor. The dingy, threadbare carpet was swept clean now, but he could still picture those condom wrappers tossed so carelessly beside the bed, looking utterly sordid in the light of day. Haunting him.
And then there is the floor, with the condom wrappers still lying around where he tossed them. Sordid, that's the word for it. If Lois's pink sweater hung over his chair to symbolize everything that their night of love stood for, filling and suffusing the entire room with its presence, then the condom wrappers are the dregs, the questionable, guilty aspects of the whole thing. The symbol, ultimately, of how their one night of ecstasy was somehow transformed into shameful pieces of tainted leftovers on the floor.
His room was haunting him.
His guilt was haunting him.
I love this.
He’d gone in to work early, tired of wallowing, tired of torturing himself with the what-ifs that always seemed more dire in the middle of the night. He hadn’t hurt her with his strength – that was the most important thing – and even though he would always feel guilty that he hadn’t even given the possibility a thought, he knew there was no point in dwelling on it now.
I love that he is asking himself, although belatedly, how his lovemaking could have hurt her. What a relief that it didn't, and like Clark pointed out to himself, there was no point in dwelling on that now.
The condom issue was more difficult. He didn’t know if they worked on him, and obviously he needed to find out. If they didn’t work, if there was a possibility, however slight, that he’d gotten Lois pregnant, then obviously he’d need to talk to her. To tell her...something.
Like somebody else pointed out already, it isn't likely that the condoms wouldn't work on him, if they weren't ripped. But I so much appreciate it that he is asking herself if could possibly have made her pregnant anyway, and that he is willing to talk to her, to perhaps reveal his secret identity to her, if there is a chance, however slight, that he has made her pregnant.
His guilt had had the effect of softening him a little toward Lois Lane, but it hadn’t made him completely stupid. She was at best unpredictable, and she was clearly hostile towards him. Trusting her with his secret would be a last resort,
I have to agree with him: This is sensible.
so he would need to conduct some private...experiments to find out if he needed to approach her at all. The thought was utterly unappealing just then – and not a little embarrassing – but obviously he had to know, and that was the only way he could think of to find out.
I really like this. This subject is practically never touched upon, but clearly Clark ought to have himself tested, before he became intimate with a woman from the Earth.
He had arrived at work to find Perry White already there, and for whatever reason, the editor seemed to have completely acquitted Clark of whatever sins he’d been accusing him of the day before. It was a little bewildering, this sudden about-face, but Clark thought tiredly that perhaps the Daily Planet employees all changed their personalities every day.
This is a nice set-up...
Maybe Cat Grant, who had been uncomfortably obvious in her attentions to him the day before, would come to work dressed as a nun and sit primly at her desk all day.
...for this!
He had just dragged his wandering attention back to his boss when Lois Lane stepped off the elevator. She went to her desk without appearing even to look in his direction, but Clark had watched her out of the corner of his eye – had admired her, however unwillingly.
I completely love this. When Lois isn't in the same room as Clark, his attention wanders, but when she enters that room, all he can see is her, even if it is only out of the corner of his eye.
Because, God, she was beautiful. She wasn’t Wanda Detroit, but she was beautiful in a perfect, cut glass, razor-sharp way that he found even more intriguing than Wanda’s more obvious charms. He didn’t like her; he didn’t want to think she was beautiful, but he couldn’t deny the evidence of his own eyes.
I love how Clark doesn't seem to be in control of his own body. His mind tells him that Lois is trouble, that he shouldn't try to have anything to do with her. But his body, his eyes....
his eyes were telling him that they would be content to gaze on Lois Lane for the rest of the day and maybe for the rest of his life. That they’d be perfectly happy to just watch her boot up her computer, sift through her briefcase, reach for her coffee cup - boring activities that normally wouldn’t interest his eyes for a second. Because his eyes had seen things. Lots of things. Incredible things. His eyes had seen the whole world.
Yet they wanted to stop right there and watch Lois Lane get coffee.
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. So amazingly beautiful.
He had made some answer to Perry White that must have satisfied the man because he went away and left Clark to seat himself at his desk and look his fill at Lois Lane.
How I love it: Clark is letting himself look his fill at Lois Lane.
It was easy enough to do since she was looking everywhere in the newsroom but at him, a fact that penetrated his consciousness belatedly.
She couldn't look at him?
he realized how uncomfortable she was, just trying to get a cup of coffee, and his guilt returned in a rush. What had they done to one another?
He understands that
he has made her feel so uncomfortable. And because I love Clark when he's feeling guilty, I totally adore him here.
Suddenly, her eyes had locked with his, and he’d been unable to move, unable to breathe, even. Watching her had been a pleasure, but looking into those wide, scared eyes was a torment, an accusation. I’m sorry Lois, he wanted to say. I’m so sorry for both of us.
This is so harrowingly powerful, and it gets even more amazing when it's juxtaposed with Lois's interpretation of the same situation from the previous chapter:
She raised her head, determined to just do it, and she was immediately arrested by a pair of soulful brown eyes. He was staring at her, with something in his face that made her breath hitch and her heart start to pound. He was hurting.
He is hurting for
her, for both of them, but she believes he is hurting mostly for himself.
And at this very moment, when they are reading each other's hurt in each other's eyes, they would be willing to do anything for the other one:
If she had asked him at that moment to leave – to walk out of the Daily Planet and leave her in peace, he would have done it. He would have packed his things and given up on everything he’d fought for the day before.
she had an almost uncontrollable impulse to go to him, to offer what comfort she could.
If they had only gone to each other at this moment, Caroline! If they had only reached out then and there!
Clark knows he shouldn't blame himself....
She couldn’t come near him. She couldn’t even walk past him to get a cup of coffee. He knew that this was not all his fault. He knew that whatever guilt there was had to be shared between them, and he had not forgotten for a minute her underhanded attempt to cost him his job.
...but he does.
He knew all this, but it didn’t change the fact that he hated seeing what he was doing to her. He hated seeing this bright, confident woman reduced to a shambles merely because of his presence. He had to find some way for them to coexist. He had to find some way to get her to relax, at least a little, while he was in the newsroom.
Or else he had to go. They couldn’t endure this indefinitely.
And he is still willing to sacrifice almost everything for her.
So he had taken her a cup of coffee. A peace offering, of sorts, but also a salve to his own guilty conscience. He had lied too, he reminded himself. He had let her think she was going to bed with a nice, normal guy from Smallville, Kansas. The fact that the guy came to Kansas by way of the planet Krypton wasn’t exactly a small omission. He hadn’t meant to do it, but he had lied.
And I so love it when he's acknowledging his own lies, his own guilt. Because I do believe that it's only the good guys who feel guilty.
As he’d handed her the coffee, he had cursed the enhanced senses that had allowed him to hear so clearly the pounding of her heart and the shallowness of her breathing as he’d stood beside her. He saw the blush on her cheeks, which in other circumstances he might have found attractive – even endearing. But it wasn’t either of those things. It was just that much more evidence that she was on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack, merely because he’d approached her.
This is what the same scene appeared like to Lois - she wasn't exactly on the verge of a panic attack, I think:
She was squinting at her notes, trying to make out her own handwriting, when she felt his presence beside her.
It startled her so much that she gasped, loud enough for him to hear. She stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, stunned that he had approached her. She was so focused on his face that she hardly noticed when he set down a steaming Styrofoam cup and then reached into his pocket to pull out an assortment of little packets – sweeteners and creamers – and a plastic stirrer.
No, there was nothing in that to feel elated about. But she had said thank you...and that was all she’d done. She hadn’t hissed and spit and reminded him of his promise to keep his distance. She hadn’t tossed the coffee into his face. She hadn’t threatened him or his job or done anything to cause a scene.
Like Chris, Incognito, said, I love how you compare Lois with a cat here - that hissing and spitting! But, ah, she didn't do any hissing or spitting, not this time.
And I totally love this bit of conversation between Clark and Jimmy:
I’m used to Lois – I know how she is and don’t take it personally like a lot of people do. She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”
“All bark and no bite?” Clark suggested.
“Well...no, I wouldn’t say that either,” Jimmy said with a grin. “More like I’ve been bitten so often I’ve kind of stopped noticing it. Anyway, for a chance to work on a story like this one, I can put up with a lot. It’s really cool - we went to EPRAD yesterday and met that Dr. Baines who’s been on TV so much since the explosion. She’s even hotter in person than she is on television.”
Lois is
not all bark and no bite, but Jimmy has been bitten so often that he dosn't notice it any more! Priceless! You've got to love Jimmy.
Of course, he is a little too impressed by each and every beautiful female.... Sorry to repeat the last line from my previous quote:
She’s even hotter in person than she is on television.”
“An important quality in a scientist,” Clark deadpanned.
Jimmy snickered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a sexist pig. But you didn’t meet her. Trust me, you can’t help but notice.”
Privately, Clark couldn’t imagine how anyone standing next to Lois Lane could possibly notice another woman, but he would rip out his tongue before he would admit that to Jimmy or anyone else. He wasn’t all that happy about acknowledging it to himself.
This is absolutely, absolutely wonderful - how Clark is so smitten by Lois that each and every woman seems uninteresting to him in comparison. And he feels bad because he doesn't want to be so irresistibly drawn to her.
“Anyway, he’s having this ball tonight as a fundraiser, and the Chief gave me a couple of tickets. I was going to go with this girl in my building, but she cancelled at the last minute. So I was wondering if you might want to use my extra ticket...in a non-date kind of way, I mean. Not that you’re not...I mean if I were...or you were...though I guess I don’t know that you’re not, but I’m not...”
Priceless! Adorable!
Trust me, CK, we may be going to this ball alone, but if we play our cards right, we won’t be leaving that way, you know what I mean?” He gave Clark’s shoulder a playful shove.
Clark smiled, as Jimmy obviously expected him to, but he wasn’t amused. The last thing on earth he intended to do was to pick up another woman. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see the end of the trouble the last one had caused.
Oh, poor Clark.
Jimmy grinned, knowing he hadn’t fooled Lois for a minute. “As a matter of fact, I was just telling Clark over there how professional Dr. Baines was.”
Lois scowled, not liking the idea of Jimmy and Clark sitting around talking about the beautiful scientist. “And what did Clark have to say about her?” Lois’s tone was sarcastic, belying her genuine interest in the answer.
“Uh...nothing, now that I think about it.” Jimmy sounded surprised as he considered that none of his ‘guy talk’ had seemed to interest Clark at all. He returned to the idea that had occurred to him when he’d offered Clark the ticket to the ball. “Say, do you think Clark might be gay?”
So, Jimmy, do you think there can only be one reason for Clark not joining you in your 'guy talk'?
Lois blinked at him. “What would make you think that?” she asked, trying hard to sound disinterested.
“Well, Cat was all over him yesterday. Trust me, he had a sure thing there, but he didn’t seem interested.”
Lois looked over at Cat Grant’s empty desk. If fate had granted her the powers she thought she deserved, the desk would have been reduced to a pile of smoldering cinders from just the one glance. “Maybe he just has standards.”
Well, Lois wants to know about Clark's sexual orientation... not that she needs to doubt it all that much after their night together. But I'm sure she was glad to hear about Clark's lack of interest in Cat Grant.
Perry could cross the newsroom when she was working, and unless he was literally bellowing her name (which, granted, was a pretty common occurrence) she didn’t bother to look up. Cat could walk by half-naked (which, ditto) and if Lois was working, she wouldn’t even notice.
Others have pointed it out already, but it is absolutely priceless!
But let Clark Kent so much as lean back and stretch, and her attention was diverted from whatever she was doing to whatever he was doing. And of course, all the while, she was trying to make it look like she was still busy working.
Earlier in this chapter, you pointed out how Clark could do little but watch Lois when they were in the newsroom together. Now you tell us that Lois can do nothing but watch Clark.
And others have heaped tons of praise on this already, but it is just so marvellous:
Watching Clark while pretending she wasn’t watching Clark took twice as much effort as just watching him would, which would mean four times as much effort as not watching him at all.
Wouldn’t it? Maybe not. Math had never been her best subject. Anyway, the exact formula didn’t matter, since not watching him at all just wasn’t happening, despite her best efforts.
What an adorable way to say that she just couldn't stop watching him.
It was maddening, but it wasn’t like she could complain. Aside from bringing her coffee that morning, something he’d done when the newsroom was almost empty, he hadn’t approached her, hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t even glanced her way again, as best she could tell.
So she should be happy then?
He was keeping his promise to keep his distance, and that should have pleased her, but instead it was nearly driving her crazy. How dare he be so totally immune to her when his very presence was shredding her nerves?
I-r-r-e-s-i-s-t-i-b-l-e!!!!
An insidious little voice whispered to her that if she’d looked and acted like Wanda Detroit, he wouldn’t be able to help looking. It whispered that this just proved what she already knew – that Wanda Detroit was what he’d wanted all along, and Lois Lane wasn’t worth a glance. He’d probably brought the coffee out of pity, after watching her make a spectacle of her inability to approach him.
Because Lois's self confidence is crackled, so that she can't believe that Clark wants
her. That he wants Lois. She is jealous of herself, of Wanda Detroit, just like Clark has so often been jealous of Superman.
Because that was the other thing she’d learned during this day of involuntary Clark-watching: Clark Kent was an incredibly nice guy. It was in everything he did, all day long.
Yes, that's the sort of thing you are bound to notice, when you are watching somebody as carefully and as incessantly as Lois is watching Clark.
There was a cynical part of her that was revolted by Clark’s relentless niceness. There was a part of her that wanted to believe it was all a ploy – that he was sucking up to anyone and everyone so that his ‘provisional’ job would become a permanent one.
She
wants to disbelieve him....
But she couldn’t quite make herself believe it. Everything she’d seen that day in the newsroom was exactly what she would have predicted based on the one night she’d spent with Clark Kent. He was that nice.
...but she can't. She
knows that he is that nice. And I love that she knows it partly because she could feel how completely, utterly, honestly nice and caring he was during their night together.
Clark was going to the ball.
She couldn’t help it. Her head came up and she stared at Jimmy, uncaring, for once, what her face might be giving away. Because Clark was going to be at the ball. He was going to be wearing a tuxedo. He was going to be smiling and laughing and maybe flirting with other women. Dancing with them, like he’d danced with her at the Stardust. She was going to have to see Clark Kent with another woman in his arms. She felt like throwing up just thinking about it.
This piece of news shatters Lois's world. Because even though Clark is driving her mad and crazy, and even though she can't stand being in the same room with him, it is far, far worse to her to imagine having to watch Clark flirt and dance with other women.
“His name is Mitchell,” Lois said through gritted teeth. Her irritation with Jimmy had almost made her forget her embarrassment. Almost. “And if you call me Barbie even one time, they’ll never find your body.”
“Who me?” Jimmy pasted on his most innocent expression. “Compare you to a tall, sexy blonde? Why would I do that?”
Jimmy's 'Barbie and Ken' dig is quite funny, even if he is a little too fresh with her. Normally she wouldn't have been angry with him....
But Clark Kent was standing right there, and Jimmy’s comment had gone straight to the heart of Lois’s insecurities. Her eyes went wide, and she sucked in a furious breath, prepared to deliver a scathing response that was totally out of proportion to Jimmy’s comment.
I feel her embarrassment and her insecurity so acutely here.
“Lois is more beautiful than any blonde,” Clark said firmly, squaring his shoulders and giving Jimmy a look of stern disapproval.
I completely, totally love this, Caroline. (But then, I think everybody does!
)
If he’d suddenly dropped to one knee and declared his undying love, neither Lois nor Jimmy could possibly have been more shocked. Both stared at Clark, who quickly went from looking almost menacing to looking completely flustered. He reached up and fiddled with his glasses, averting his gaze from Lois and shooting an apologetic look in Jimmy’s direction.
And this is wonderful - the way you capture how his emotions show in his body language and on his face....
She was still staring at Clark and grasping blindly for her own response. She should be angry, shouldn’t she? Clark was clearly violating their agreement – an agreement they’d only made yesterday – and she’d be well within her rights to put him squarely in his place.
Yes, maybe she should be angry....
But as she watched the dull red flush make its way across his cheeks, down his neck, and even to his ears, she couldn’t seem to find the anger she thought she should be feeling.
But how could she possibly, possibly be angry at him when he has just declared how amazingly beautiful she is and then blushed profusely at his own words?
He’d said she was beautiful. He’d said Lois was beautiful, with no reference to Wanda Detroit. More than that, he’d all but said straight out that she was the most beautiful woman he knew.
Oh, oh, oh... surely that should make you blush, too, Lois.
Except....
She reminded herself that someone as relentlessly nice as Clark Kent probably just wasn’t capable of standing by and seeing a woman insulted, no matter who the woman was. Because after the way she’d behaved, it just wasn’t possible that he could still care about her.
Was that it? Had he defended her just because he was so nice? Of course he couldn't still care about her, not after the way she had treated him.
But like somebody - Incognito? - pointed out, Clark may not
want to care about Lois, but he most certainly still does.
And Lois loves that he cares, even if she can't bring herself to use the word "love":
She thought of the look on his face, though, when he’d stood up for her, and she realized that she’d liked it – liked having someone on her side, no matter what his reasons. She’d hardly needed rescuing from Jimmy, but the fact that Clark had bothered was still...
Well, she’d liked it, that was all.
This is a wonderful chapter. The way you show us the same things from Lois's POV and from Clark's POV, and how everything is consistent and self-evident within each POV and still totally
different from each other, when these two people try to make sense of what is happening to them... but how they have this in common, that they are totally fixated on one another... It's absolutely brilliant and wonderful, Caroline.
Ann
