Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Stardust 10

From Part 9:

He watched as Luthor led Lois to the dance floor and pulled her into a waltz. They were dancing much too closely, he thought, and Lois was smiling up at him as they talked.

It’s business, he told himself. She’s trying to get an interview.

But with that smile lighting up her face, she reminded him painfully of the night they’d met, the night her smiles had been for him and her body had been his to hold. He’d been dreading the sight of her with her plastic Ken-doll lawyer, but this was much, much worse. It was worse because he didn’t like Lex Luthor, and it was more than just jealousy over the fact that the man was dancing with Lois Lane. Clark had experienced an almost visceral distrust of the billionaire at first sight, and now he recognized the predatory gleam in Luthor’s eye as he looked down at the woman in his arms.

Clark had not intended to take his mother’s advice. He had not intended to approach Lois at all, in fact. But somehow, he found himself next to her on the dance floor, looking into the eyes of one of the richest men in the world and asking a question no other man in the room would have dared to ask.

“May I cut in?”

_________________________________

Part 10:

If Lex Luthor looked with some surprise upon the man who had dared to interrupt his dance, it was nothing compared to Lois’s utter shock that Clark had approached her in such a way and among so many people.

Conquering Luthor had been child’s play; she’d simply thought in advance of the approach that was most likely to garner his attention and respect, and then she’d played her part to the hilt. Men like Lex Luthor saw so much bowing and scraping that they must surely become tired of it, she was certain. The way to gain his respect was by behaving as if she were his equal in consequence. So she had done so, making her own entrance and speaking the lines she’d prepared for herself with a confidence she hadn’t really felt. Had he snubbed her, it could have all gone very badly, of course, but once he’d asked her to dance, Lois knew she had him exactly where she wanted him.

And then Clark came along, and all of the confidence she’d manufactured for herself evaporated into thin air. What was it about this man? How was it possible that she could have the third richest man in the world eating out of her hand within five minutes, yet a hack reporter from Kansas made her feel fifteen-years-old again?

She stared up at Clark, and then glanced back at Lex Luthor, who was clearly waiting to see how she felt about Clark cutting in.

“Lex, this is Clark Kent,” she managed. “He works at the Daily Planet.”

Luthor took the introduction as a sign that she was willing to change partners. “A pleasure,” he said, stepping away from her and giving Clark a brief nod.

“Likewise.” Clark responded with a cool nod of his own, and before she quite knew what was happening, she was in his arms, in the exact place she’d been longing to be ever since the last time she’d been there. She barely heard Lex Luthor’s parting words to her, so awash was she in the sweet feeling of homecoming.

And then common sense asserted itself and she tried to pull away, fluttering against the strong circle of his arms like a trapped bird. “What are you…? I was trying to….”

“Lois,” he whispered fiercely. “Lois.”

Just the one word – her name – but the way he said it…the desperation she heard in his voice….

The fight went out of her, and she subsided into his arms. He felt the change and pulled her closer, not so close as to be unseemly, but close enough that she could feel the heat of his body and the whisper of his breath against her hair.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have come over here…I know you were trying to get an interview with Luthor, and I shouldn’t have interrupted. But I’m not sorry I did.”

“Clark….”

“I know what you’re going to say, so I’ll say it first. You were right – this isn’t going to work. Us working together, pretending like nothing happened…it’s just never going to work. I thought I could do it, but I realized today that I can’t. So I’m going to go…leave the Planet…leave you in peace. But just once I’d like to dance with the real Lois Lane.” His eyes searched hers. “Please?”

She stared up at him, saw all her own sadness and regret mirrored on his face, and nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes, left to the uncomfortable realization that she had fought very hard for something she didn’t actually want at all. Now that it had been handed to her, she perversely wished it undone. But she couldn’t find the words to tell him that – couldn’t find the nerve, really. Because Clark Kent had the power to turn her life upside down. She’d known that from practically the moment they’d met. And admitting she was wrong, asking him to stay…it would mean changing everything. She might be brave when chasing a story, she might be able to stare down Lex Luthor without blinking, but when it came to risking her own heart, she was and always had been a coward. So she stayed silent in his arms, trying to store up the feeling for the lonely days and nights to come.

“It’s just the same,” he said wistfully, almost as if he were talking to himself.

She knew what he meant. It was just the same. The setting precluded them dancing as closely as they had that night at the Stardust, but the incredible feeling of fitting perfectly with another human being was still there. She could hardly look him in the eye, but her body remembered his, remembered the clasp of his hand and the strength of his broad shoulder.

“I’m not her, Clark.”

“You’re wrong about that, you know.” He looked at her earnestly, as if willing her to believe him. “She’s not you, but she’s part of you. You’re just a lot…more. You’re complicated.”

She actually smiled a little at that. "Complicated. That’s a tactful way of putting it.”

“I like complicated.”

She didn’t really believe him, but she appreciated the effort he was making. So she stared very hard at his shoulder. Took a deep breath. “I just…I wanted to have some fun,” she said in a small voice. “That night. I wanted to be someone else. To not have to be…Lois Lane. I never meant for it to go as far as it did.”

“Lois,” he said softly, “you don’t have to explain.”

“I do…I know you must think I’m crazy, and I don’t blame you. I just don’t want you to leave without knowing…without me telling you…I don’t do that. I don’t go home with men I’ve just met. And when we…I didn’t know how to face you afterwards. And then you showed up at the Planet, and I was afraid of what you’d think of me. I…panicked. I do that sometimes. I panicked and I told Perry that you were bad news and that I’d quit if he hired you. And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She hated saying those words. She avoided saying them as much as possible. But she owed them to Clark Kent like she’d never owed them to anyone else in her life. And not just because she’d tried to cost him his job – and ultimately succeeded, she supposed, since it was her fault he was leaving. She owed them to Clark Kent because she was a coward, and because as much as she hated saying ‘I’m sorry’, those words were still easier than the words that she was keeping back – words he had a right to hear.

“It’s forgiven.” His thumb began to stroke gently over the skin of her hand where he held it clasped in his, a delicate touch that made her arms break out in gooseflesh.

Forgiven. Was that really possible? Was it really that easy? Would she be as quick to forgive someone who had done to her what she had done to Clark Kent?

Not likely.

“It’s not that simple.” It couldn’t be.

“It is,” he said. “I’m leaving – I told you that – and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being angry with you. I don’t even want to spend this dance being angry with you. It’s probably the last one I’ll ever get, you know, and I don’t want to waste it.”

And that was maybe the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.

“If you want to spend this dance being angry,” she offered, “I’ll give you another one for free.”

She was rewarded by the beautiful smile that spread across his face. “Wait a minute! If I spend the rest of this dance being angry, I get another one? Well, I take it back then,” he teased. “You’re not forgiven, Lois Lane. In fact, I’m furious! I’m so mad that it might take two more dances to even things up.”

Her heart fluttered in response to his smile and the delighted sparkle in his eyes. This was supposed to be harder, wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to be smiling at her and teasing her, and she wasn’t supposed to be letting him.

But in spite of herself, she smiled back. “Are you even capable of getting two-whole-dances worth of angry?”

“Hey, don’t let this geeky, mild-mannered exterior fool you,” he told her.

She actually laughed. “You’re not geeky,” she told him. “But I don’t think you’re all that angry either – though God knows why.”

“Do I still get the second dance?” he asked, the request sounding somewhat urgent as the last strains of the music faded away and the couples around them began to separate.

“Yes....” She swallowed hard, suddenly wondering if it was such a good idea. “But then we should...I should...this is really a work function for me, and I shouldn’t be....”

“Enjoying yourself?” he supplied.

“Yes...no. I mean, it’s fine to enjoy yourself, as long as you don’t lose sight of your objectives.”

“And what are your objectives?” The music started up again, and he pulled her back into his arms.

“My objectives....” It was hard to think like this...hard to make sense when her body was so close to his and the music was swirling around them, seemingly cocooning them in their own little world. “My objectives are to get that interview with Lex Luthor, of course, and maybe with Councilman Wall, if I can corner him about that proposed commercial sewer line on the South Side.”

Clark laughed, and she immediately bristled, thinking he was making fun of her. “It’s called being a reporter, Clark. You should try it sometime,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding particularly contrite. “It’s just kind of a blow to my ego to find out that the beautiful woman in my arms is thinking about sewer lines.”

“It’s my job to think about sewer lines.” She wasn’t going to think about the ‘beautiful woman in my arms’ part. It would just confuse her.

“Even at a ball?”

“Even at a ball.”

He seemed to mull that over for a bit, all the while looking down at her in a way that was wholly disconcerting. She refused to look back at him, instead staring intently over his shoulder. Try as she might to find someone else to focus on, however, the others in the ballroom seemed like nothing more than a shifting mass of colors. The only real, solid person in the world was Clark Kent.

“I think I’m starting to understand Wanda Detroit a little better,” he said finally. “She didn’t have to think about sewer lines, did she?”

“No,” she admitted softly.

“Or reclusive billionaires.”

“No.”

“So what did she think about?” he prodded gently. “Smart girl like that, she must have been thinking something.”

She only thought about you, Lois thought. But she could never say those words out loud. She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk at all,” she said, finally looking at him, hoping she could make him understand. “I just want to dance.”

“Lois, why did you give me this second dance?” His eyes held hers, his gaze gentle but insistent.

“I just...you said something about being angry...”

“I said I wasn’t angry, wasn’t going to waste my time on it. You knew I wasn’t angry. So why are you dancing with me?”

“Would you rather I hadn’t?” she returned, feeling that he was trying to corner her somehow and not liking it one bit.

His mouth quirked slightly. “You’re evading my question. I’m a journalist, too, you know. I notice when someone does that. Why are you dancing with me?”

“What does it matter?” she cried, truly irritated now. He was ruining everything with his stupid persistence.

“It matters to me. I want to know why you let me cut in. I want to know why you’re still dancing with me.”

“I’m not!” she snapped, pulling away from him and snatching her hand from his. The separation was almost physically painful, but he’d left her no choice. “There. Are you satisfied?”

She fled the dance floor, feeling the tears gather in her eyes but determined not to let him see them. Why had he ruined their dance? Why hadn’t he let her just enjoy being with him for a few more minutes?

She made straight for the first door she saw, yanking it open and slipping inside without ever once looking back. She closed the door behind her and sighed with relief as the sounds of the party faded into the background. Only then did she notice that she was in what appeared to be Lex Luthor’s private study.

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“Whoa there,” Perry said, stepping in front of Clark and intercepting him. “What’s going on here, Kent?”

“I’m sorry, I just really need to....” Clark had momentarily lost Lois in the crowd, but he managed to spot her just as she disappeared into a door at the rear of the room. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, as he made to follow her.

Perry, however, had other ideas. “Not so fast. You know, I can’t quite decide what to make of you, son. You seem like a nice enough young fellow – a little green maybe, a little wet behind the ears, but not a bad sort. But it takes a lot to put Lois Lane in tears, and you’ve managed to do it twice in as many days.”

“I know, sir, and I’m sure that looks bad, but I’m truly not...it’s just that...well, it’s...a long story.” Clark shifted nervously, still glancing in the direction Lois had gone. What if she’d left the penthouse?

“A long story.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not hearing anything that’s reassuring me, Kent.”

Clark sighed. “I haven’t either, sir.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.” Perry sized up the man in front of him, giving him a penetrating look. “You know, in a lot of ways, Lois is like a daughter to me.”

In spite of his eagerness to be gone, Clark couldn’t help cracking a smile. “Are you asking me if my intentions are honorable?”

“Well...yeah. I guess I am.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight, Perry?”

Perry raised his eyebrows. “No, can’t say that I do.”

“I never did either. I’m still not sure I do. But if there’s even a chance that this is what I think it is, I have to try. Can you understand that?”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t look to me like Lois feels the same way.”

“Well, she doesn’t want to – that’s for sure. But you know her better than I do, sir. Is she normally in tears over men she doesn’t care anything about?”

Perry snorted at that. “I guess not. Point taken.” He nodded in the direction Lois had gone. “All right, Kent – go find her and say your piece. But I’m going to check in on the two of you in a few minutes, and if Lois isn’t happy about you being there, you need to just back off. I’m forcing her to work with you, and I can’t do that in clear conscience if I know you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Clark assured him. “And I won’t ask her to. If Lois still wants me to leave the Planet, I’ll go. I’ve already told her as much.”

“Well, good luck to you, then,” Perry said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Perry. I think I’m going to need it.”

_____________________

He found her on Lex Luthor’s balcony, staring out over the lights of Metropolis. He knew she was aware of his presence, but he didn’t speak. He just stood there, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

“You know why,” she said finally in a low voice. “You know why I danced with you.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Why can’t you say it though? Why can’t you admit it?”

“I can’t do this, Clark. I can’t have this conversation with you. I don’t know if you’re fishing for compliments...”

“I’m not...”

“...or flirting...”

“No...”

“...or just trying to figure out if I’m as crazy as I seem...”

“I don’t think you’re...”

“...but I can’t do this. It’s too hard and I’m not good at it and you’re...you’re...”

“I’m what?” he asked.

“You’re dangerous,” she said. “You’re gorgeous and sweet and funny and smart and...when you’re near me, I just...I...”

Without warning, she launched herself at him, one hand going behind his neck as she stood on tiptoe to crush her lips to his. For a moment, he was frozen in shock, but then instinct kicked in and his arms went around her, pulling her close, pressing her body to his.

He’d known in the ballroom that their physical attraction to one another was as powerful as ever, but nothing could have prepared him for the feelings ignited by this kiss. He wanted to claim her, to worship her and – yes – to punish her a little, and all at the same time. He wanted to pour every single one of his conflicting emotions about this confusing, complicated woman into each searing touch of their lips.

How could she deny this? How could she ignore the fact that the very air around them seemed to change the minute they got close to one another? How could anyone experience this avalanche of feeling and not need to move heaven and earth to find out where it all could lead?

She broke away from him, gasping for breath, and only then did he realize that tears were coursing down her cheeks, as if the passion of their kiss had burst some sort of inner dam. “Oh, God,” she whispered, backing away from him. “I hate this.”

“You hate what?” he demanded urgently, following her, unwilling to let her back away again when they had come so close. “What do you hate?”

“I hate feeling like this...so...out of control. I’m supposed to be working, and instead I’m out here...and we’re...and I’m crying, and I never cry. How can I work if I’m crying, Clark?”

“Shh.” He reached for her, gathering her into his arms. To his surprise, she let him comfort her, let him wipe gently at the tears streaking her face. Between the kiss and the crying, her makeup was a mess, and though he didn’t care – he thought she was beautiful no matter what – he was struck by the contrast between his first sight of her that night and the woman he now held in his arms. The confident woman who had challenged Lex Luthor had disappeared completely, leaving behind this fragile, desperate creature. It had been an act, he realized suddenly. In a way, Lois Lane was as much of an act as Wanda Detroit.

He had a feeling, however, that he was beginning to break through and catch glimpses of the real woman. That her tears, as much as they pained him, were a good sign. He had promised to leave her in peace, and then he had pushed and prodded at her defenses until they had finally given way. He hated to see her cry, but he couldn’t regret the fact that she was allowing him to see her tears, allowing him to be the one to wipe them away.

“Lois...sweetheart...please don’t cry.”

He continued to hold her, murmuring foolish endearments until she took a shuddering breath and stepped away, looking up into his eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” she told him, sounding so utterly lost that he thought his heart might break.

“I don’t either,” he admitted softly. “But I know I don’t want to walk away from this, whatever it is. I will, if it’s what you want, but I’ll always be sorry.”

“I don’t know,” she said again. “I think it could be a disaster.”

“I think it could be wonderful,” he countered.

“I’m difficult.”

His mouth curved a little. “I’ve noticed. For some reason, I like you anyway.”

She shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“Probably.”

She turned away from him, resting her hands lightly on the wall of the balcony and once again looking out into the night. The storm had passed, but clouds still hung heavy overhead, blocking out the moon and the stars. She kept her face in the shadows as she began to speak.

“Do you remember my three rules?”

“Uh...yeah.”

“Well, I’ve broken every one of them. I always get involved with my stories, and I, uh...”

“Slept with someone you worked with?”

She nodded, still looking down at the blanket of city lights spread out below them.

“It wasn’t Jimmy was it?”

She shook her head and gave him a quick, reproachful look. “No. Definitely not. It was a long time ago. His name was Claude. He was French and had this accent...well, I guess I was in love, or thought I was. I had just started at the Planet and was working on my first big story. One night, I told him about it, and when I woke up the next morning he was gone...and so was my story. He won an award for it.”

“Ah,” he said, pondering what he’d just learned. For a moment, they both were silent. “You know, I could tell you that I think what this Claude did to you was despicable and that nothing like that would ever happen with me, but that’s what you’d expect me to say, and there’s no way I can make you believe it. You just have to decide if you’re willing to take the risk.”

“I haven’t been...since then. I haven’t ever been willing to take the risk again.”

“And now?” he asked softly.

She turned to face him, giving him a long, serious look. “I don’t know. I want to think you’re different from other men.”

He smiled. “If there’s one thing I can absolutely promise you, Lois Lane, it’s that I am different from other men.”

She eyed him with a glimmer of curiosity that chased some of the desolation from her face. “You told me that before, too. What do you mean, exactly?”

He shook his head. “Not telling. You’ll have to get to know me to find out.”

“Clark...”

“Lois, you know Perry made my job provisional – he just gave me two weeks. Let me stay the two weeks...please? And not the way we talked about before - where we ignore each other and try to pretend we've never met. Let me talk to you at work a little. Let me get to know you better, be your friend. And at the end of the two weeks, if you still think it’s impossible, or just not worth the risk, then I’ll go. It might kill me, but I’ll go.”

“I don’t think we could ever just be friends, Clark. This...” she gestured between them, “...this isn’t friends.”

“No,” he said, glad, at least, that they were agreed on that. “But we need to be friends, too, in addition to whatever else we might be. What we did before...that night...it was wonderful, but it was a mistake, too. I don’t want just one night with you – or with any woman. That’s not who I am, and I don’t think it’s who you are either. I think that’s why practically everything since has been such a disaster.”

“You say things like that, and I can’t believe you’re for real.”

“I mean every word,” he assured her. “So what do you say? Will you give me a chance?”

She nodded slowly. “I still think you’re crazy.”

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “I still think you’re difficult,” he told her.

She smiled back at him, a shy smile that tugged at his heart. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He took a cautious step closer. A strand of hair had fallen into her face, and he brushed it away, tucking it carefully behind her ear before cupping her cheek in his hand and bending to brush his lips against hers. He drew back to gauge her reaction, and, when she didn’t seem to object, he kissed her again, this time allowing their lips to cling briefly before he pulled away. He was careful to keep his touch light and undemanding, terrified of losing even an inch of the ground he’d managed to gain.

“Ahem.”

They both jumped at the sound of a throat being cleared right behind them. Clark dropped his hand with a jerk and stepped away from Lois as if he were an eighth grader caught kissing his girl in the stairwell.

“Just making sure you two were all right,” Perry said, frankly assessing the scene before him. “Luthor’s about to make some sort of an announcement, and Lois, I think Stephens is looking for you.”

“Oh my gosh,” Lois exclaimed, wide-eyed. “Mitchell! I completely forgot about him.”

“Ah...well, maybe you shouldn’t mention that when you see him,” Perry said.

“We’d better go,” she said to Clark. “Like I said, I’m supposed to be working.”

“I understand.”

“It’s none of my business,” Perry said, “but Lois, you might think about freshening up a bit before you go back out there. And Kent....” He reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a white handkerchief, which he handed to Clark. “You don’t really seem like the type of guy to go around wearing lipstick.”

“Uh, no, sir,” Clark said, wiping quickly at his mouth. “Thanks.”

“I’ll, um, see you later.” Lois edged past both men and out the door.

Perry waited until they heard an inner door close behind her before turning to Clark with raised eyebrows. “You still working for me?”

“For now,” Clark answered.

“Glad to hear it.” Perry clapped him on the shoulder. “Now if you’re done sparking, why don’t you get your butt back out there and listen to whatever it is Luthor has to say? We’re in the news business, Kent!”

Clark laughed. “Yes, sir.”

Even at a ball.

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Thanks to all who continue to follow the story and have been so generous with your feedback. I love to hear from you.