Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Stardust (13/?)

From Part 12:

“I was wondering,” he said lightly, “if this was one of those situations where touching in public would be obnoxious.”

He wants to kiss me, she thought dizzily, and maybe it was obnoxious, but there was no way she was going to stop him. “Uh, no,” she said softly. “I don’t think that would be obnoxious at all.”

“Good.” And with that, he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and pausing for a moment to admire the look of their hands joined together. “Thank you for having lunch with me,” he said, giving her hand a little squeeze.

And then they walked together, hand-in-hand, down the quiet path that would take them back to the hustle of the city streets and, from there, to the rest of their day.

_______________________________

Part 13:


After his lunch with Lois, Clark spent the next several hours making a concerted effort to keep his feet on the ground. His euphoria was premature, he knew, but that didn’t make it any less real. He felt exactly the same certainty about Lois that he had that night at the Stardust; it was a feeling of recognition, as if they’d met before and somehow gotten separated, and now they were saying, “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

And he had. He’d been looking all over for her. It hadn’t been a conscious looking, not most of the time, but rather a sense that he would find her one day and he would know it when it happened. Now he had and he did, and all that was left was to find out if she felt the same way. She was attracted to him, he knew that, and she seemed to enjoy his company, but anything more was unclear. He didn’t know if she was even looking for something serious; she certainly hadn’t been the night they’d met, but she seemed more willing to entertain the notion now.

Until he had a better understanding of her heart, however, he knew he would have to tread carefully. He wanted her to be his, wanted to put a ring on her finger or a down-payment on a house or whatever it took to make sure that she couldn’t get away from him again. He couldn’t afford the ring or the house, however, and he recognized that this fierce feeling of possessiveness was completely inappropriate at this early stage in the relationship - as inappropriate as falling into bed with her had been. He hadn’t expected love to be like this. He’d thought it would come on slowly, with friendship giving way to tenderness, tenderness blossoming into love. Instead, this was like an explosion of feeling, desperate and a little painful. He was going to scare her off if he pushed too hard, so he spent the afternoon working diligently. He peeked at Lois occasionally but kept his distance, particularly as he could see that she was deep into reading Platt’s report.

It was the middle of the afternoon when he heard a rumbling explosion followed by shouts from outside, somewhere just up the street from the Daily Planet building. His head came up and he focused his hearing on the trouble, whatever it was.

“...explosion...fire department...one of my men is down there! Damn it, where’s the fire department?”

As the shouts became more panicked, and with the sound of sirens still far in the distance, Clark was paralyzed with indecision. A man was trapped... somewhere, and Clark was sitting comfortably on that part of his anatomy that he and Lois had been joking about that morning. Sitting and doing nothing while a man died, maybe, right outside the newsroom. He didn’t have his costume yet, though. He didn’t have any way to disguise himself. If he went to help, it would have to be as Clark Kent, and Clark Kent had a great deal to lose. He glanced at Lois, bent over her report, and he felt almost sick at the thought that in rescuing this man, he might expose himself - might have to leave Metropolis, leave her, chased by the shadow of his own good deeds, as he had been so many times before.

In the end, though, he couldn’t stay and do nothing, even if it meant risking everything. He grabbed a notebook and jogged to the stairwell, thinking it would be quicker than the elevator, and then he went down the stairs in a blur before racing out onto the street. Only a block or so down, he saw a plume of smoke rising up out of an open sewer in the middle of the street, an agitated crowd standing by watching helplessly. He located another sewer opening and quickly lowered himself into it, and then he sped through the smoke and the oppressive darkness in the direction of the explosion. He found the city worker slumped over, his legs caught by some fallen debris. Clark freed him quickly and then lifted the man, unconscious, out of the hole and into the waiting hands of his co-workers. When the man was out, Clark paused only long enough to extinguish the last of the fire with his breath, and then he went back the way he came, popping back out onto the city street like a bespectacled gopher and then trying very hard to make such a thing look normal and natural, as if reporters crawled around in sewers every day. Fortunately, everyone’s attention was focused on the scene of the explosion and the apparent miracle of the man’s rescue, and Clark allowed himself a small moment of triumph.

He had done it! He had rescued the man and preserved Clark Kent’s secret at the same time. He wouldn’t have to pack up his suitcase yet, and once he got his disguise from his mother, maybe he never would have to again. The suit was still silly, but he would wear it, underwear and all, if it meant that he could make this work.

He looked down at his filthy sports coat and trousers and dusted at them vigorously until he felt they were presentable, and then he pulled his notebook from his breast pocket and approached the accident scene.

“Excuse me,” he called to one of the workers. “Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Can you tell me what happened here?”

________________________________

“Kent!” Perry barked, coming out of his office with a sheet of paper in his hands. “Great job on this sewer accident!”

“Thanks, Chief,” Clark said. For the first time, the editor’s nickname rose naturally to his lips.

“I’m running it on the front page of the Metro section.” He waved the paper around a little, snapping it at the other reporters nearby. “See this, people? This right here is what happens when you show a little initiative. You don’t wait for stories to find you, you don’t wait for assignments - you go out and get the news! This happened practically on our doorstep, and Kent here was the only one to get the story.”

Clark looked down at his keyboard, his pleasure in the compliment diminished by embarrassment - and guilt, too, since he knew perfectly well that without his extraordinary hearing, he wouldn’t have gotten the story either. He could feel the other reporters looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance and was grateful when Perry wound down and stomped back into his office.

Five minutes later, Lois walked by on the way to the coffee pot. “Teacher’s pet,” she whispered.

When she came back by, holding her steaming mug, Clark grinned at her. “Feeling threatened, Miss Lane?”

“By Mr. Greenjeans? I don’t think so.”

Clark laughed. “Ouch.”

“So how did you get that story?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

He shrugged and felt himself start to sweat a little. “I just... was in the right place at the right time, I guess.”

“Just happened to be walking by.”

“Yep.”

“Interesting.” She sipped her coffee, and the look she gave him over the rim of her mug made him shift nervously in his seat. “So, when you bolted out of here a little while ago like your pants were on fire, that didn’t have anything to do with the story?”

“No,” he said, too quickly and too vehemently. “I had a...” What? What did he have? His mind scrolled rapidly through a list of possibilities, as the feeling of nervousness began to edge towards panic. “...sudden craving. For ice cream.”

“Ice cream?”

“Mint chocolate chip.” Why had he said that? Why was he compounding his lie with more detail? He wouldn’t put it past Lois to sniff his breath for traces of mint. “But I didn’t get any,” he added quickly, hoping this small bit of honesty would help balance things out a little. “I happened on the sewer accident and...like I said, I just was in the right place at the right time.”

“Well. Good for you.” Her expression lightened and he felt himself begin to relax.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said modestly.

“Maybe.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “You know... you’re a strange one, Clark Kent. I think there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Though not entirely comfortable with this observation, he felt compelled to point out that that was true of everyone.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “The difference is that with most people I don’t care. Not unless there’s a story in it.”

He might have been flattered by that sentiment had she not looked vaguely troubled as she said it. But he knew that she needed to be able to trust him, and instead of being worthy of that trust, he was spinning lies about ice cream. There was no way, though, to tell her the truth in the middle of the newsroom - even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.

Not yet.

He needed to be able to trust her, too, and it was just too soon to be certain that he could. Theirs had hardly been what one could call a stable relationship so far. On Monday, they had made incredible love on two hours’ acquaintance, and on Tuesday, he had awakened to find her gone. On Wednesday, he found out that she had lied to him about who she was and had tried to cost him his job, and on Thursday, they had exchanged passionate kisses and confessions on a millionaire’s balcony. Now it was Friday, and they’d had a nice lunch together and held hands for a few minutes in the park. His heart was shouting that he was in love, but his head was insisting that it was too soon to be spilling his deepest secret to this woman, no matter how much he thought he might love her.

Once they were surer of each other, once he was certain she was really The One - that’s when he would tell her. He couldn’t quite picture it - the exact moment when he would tell the woman he loved that he was from another planet - but he was sure he would know the right time when it came.

“I’m glad you care, Lois,” he said softly, so that no one else could hear. “And I’m glad you want to know more about me. I want to know more about you, too. But...it takes time.”

Please give me time, Lois, he thought anxiously. Sharing my body with you was easy compared to sharing this secret. I need time.

She nodded. “There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Her seriousness gave way to an impish look. “The next time you go for ice cream, you might ask me if I want some, too.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Chocolate, right?”

“Is there any other kind?”

She grinned at him and walked away, and he watched her with undisguised admiration, even as he heaved a secret sigh of relief that she’d apparently bought his story. He would have to be careful around her. There was just so very much at stake.

He went back to work, finishing up his stories for the day without any further excitement. Before he left for the evening, he looked for Lois so that he could say goodbye, but Jimmy told him that she was closeted with Perry, giving the editor an update on the Messenger investigation.

“She’s planning on being here late tonight,” Jimmy added. “I offered to stay and work too, but she told me to go on home.”

“Does she do that a lot?” Clark asked. “Work late?”

“And early, and on weekends, holidays – you name it,” Jimmy said. “Lois is the original workaholic. When she’s on a story, there’s no such thing as office hours.”

“Guess that’s why she’s the best.”

“Guess so,” Jimmy agreed. “Me, I like to have a personal life, too. You got anything going on tonight?”

“Not really,” Clark said. “I have an errand to run, and then I’ll head back to my hotel. What about you?”

“Got a date with that new girl in accounting,” Jimmy said, beaming. “Wish me luck.”

Clark laughed and obliged, and then he left, giving Jimmy a quick wave as he headed for the elevator. His errand consisted of a trip to Kansas, not that he could have told Jimmy that, and then he had nothing to look forward to but a night in his hotel. Before the elevator doors shut, he cast a regretful look in the direction of Perry’s closed door.

_______________________________

When he arrived at the farm, the sun was just setting over the fields, and he took a moment to enjoy the vast explosion of red and gold over the open Kansas plain. He’d seen sunsets all over the world, some so beautiful that they took his breath away, but somehow the one he could see each night from his parents’ front porch remained his favorite. He loved the funny silhouette of the sprawling barn, dark against the brilliant colors of the sky; when he was a child, he’d thought it looked like a fat man in a stovepipe hat. He still thought that.

“Perfect timing.” Jonathan emerged from the barn with a smile on his face.

“Hi, Dad.” Clark called, starting toward his father. “You mean the sunset?”

“Nope.” Jonathan slung his arm around his son affectionately. “I mean I just finished evening chores.”

Clark laughed. “You know I’m glad to help out anytime, Dad. Just say the word and I’ll be here.”

“No. I was just teasing you, son. If you’re going to make a life for yourself in Metropolis, you can’t come running back here every time something needs doing on the farm. Your mother and I can manage.”

“How’s the back?” Clark asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Still plays up a little if I put in too long of a day, but with fall harvest over, I should be able to give it a good rest this winter. Don’t you worry about it.”

“You know I’m gonna worry. And come spring planting time, either I’ll come home for a few weeks, or we’ll hire someone to help out.”

“Look who thinks he’s in charge of the farm all of a sudden.” Clark didn’t miss the fact that his father sounded slightly irritated.

“I’m really thinking of Mom,” Clark joked. “I don’t think she could take another summer with you in the house all day long.”

Jonathan chuckled, as Clark had intended. “Well, you might have a point there. We’ll talk about it in the spring, okay?”

“Okay,” Clark agreed, as the two men climbed the front steps.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” Jonathan stomped his work boots a few times and then scraped them vigorously across the doormat.

“Nope. Just landed.”

“Staying for dinner?”

Clark shook his head. “No. I’m just here to pick up the costume Mom made for me.”

Jonathan opened the door. “Martha! Clark’s here,” he called. To his son he said, “You really gonna be able to wear that thing?”

“I think I’m going to have to try. I actually needed it today, and....”

“Hi, honey!” Martha called from the top of the stairs. “I was just getting your suit together. I’ll be down in just a minute. Jonathan, did you scrape those boots before you came in?”

“Yes, dear.” Jonathan and Clark exchanged quick smiles. Martha had asked that question every single night when they came in from the farm for as long as Clark could remember.

“What do you mean you needed it today?” Jonathan asked, a look of concern lining his face as he returned to their previous subject.

“There was a sewer explosion just outside the Daily Planet, Dad. A man was trapped.”

“Did you...?”

“I had to, Dad. He could have died.”

“Who could have died?” Martha asked. She was coming down the stairs with her arms full of blue spandex and red silk, and... good grief, were those red boots?

“There was a city worker trapped in a sewer outside the Daily Planet building,” Clark explained.

“Son, what if someone had seen you?” Jonathan asked. “Metropolis isn’t some little out of the way village, you know. All it’ll take is one person with a video camera, and they’ll...”

“Lock me in a lab and dissect me like a frog,” Clark finished miserably. “I know, Dad. I was careful.”

“I don’t like it, Clark. I’m not crazy about this whole costume idea either, but at least it’ll give you a chance at a normal life. Don’t go jeopardizing that.”

“What should he have done, Jonathan?” Martha demanded, tossing the suit to the sofa. “Just let the man die?”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan admitted. “I just can’t help worrying.”

“You said yourself the other night that he’s a grown man who has to make his own decisions,” Martha reminded him. “I, for one, trust him to do that.” She looked a challenge at her husband, who nodded.

“I do, too,” he said, giving Clark an apologetic look.

“It’s all right, Dad. Really. No one saw me. And after today I’ll have....” He glanced at the suit and got distracted. “Mom, we didn’t talk about the boots.”

“Did you think you’d wear your Nikes?”

“Hoped is more like it.”

“Clark Kent wears Nikes. This guy...what are we calling him again?”

“I have no idea.”

“Okay, well, whatever we’re calling him, he doesn’t wear Nikes.”

Clark laughed. “You seem to know a lot about him. Glad one of us does.”

“You’ll figure it out as you go along, honey.” Martha gave him a reassuring smile, and then her expression changed completely as she pinned him with an inquisitive look. “Now for the important question.”

Clark knew what was coming and put up a token resistance, knowing all along that it was futile. “Uh, I need to be getting back.” He reached for his suit. “You know, a reporter’s work is never done. You’re only as good as your next story, Perry White says.”

“Nice try.” Martha tugged the suit out of his hands, one red boot hitting the floor with a clunk. “I’m holding this for ransom,” she declared. “So did you or didn’t you?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Jonathan looked from his wife to his son, who was suddenly blushing.

“You did!” Martha crowed triumphantly.

“I did,” Clark admitted.

“Did what?” Jonathan asked plaintively. “Why is it that I never have any idea what you two are talking about?”

“And...?” Martha asked, ignoring her husband completely.

“And things are... better,” Clark said cautiously.

“Define better,” Martha demanded, a grin spreading across her face. “Did you kiss her?”

Clark looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. “Technically, she kissed me first.”

“I knew it! I knew she couldn’t resist my boy.” Martha was practically dancing a jig. “So did you do more than kiss her?”

“Mom!” Clark exclaimed.

“Martha!” Jonathan, who had finally caught up, gave his wife an admonishing look. “That’s none of our business.”

“And the answer is ‘no’,” Clark said firmly. “She’s agreed to give me the chance to get to know her. We had lunch together today. That’s it.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!” Martha gave him an impulsive hug, the suit crushed between them. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Clark admitted. “I really do. Only... I had to lie to her this afternoon. She saw me rush out of the newsroom when I heard the sewer explosion, and then Perry made a big deal in front of everyone about me coming back with the story. Lois suspected that the two were related - which, of course, they were - but I couldn’t very well tell her that I’d heard an accident that no normal person possibly could have heard.”

“So what did you tell her?” Jonathan asked.

“That I’d had a sudden craving for ice cream,” Clark admitted sheepishly. “I know it was stupid. It was just the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Craving for ice cream, huh?” Martha laughed. “Well, tell her that if you’re pregnant, we’re going to expect her to make an honest man of you.”

“Mom!” Clark protested. “It’s not funny!”

Jonathan chuckled. “Actually, son, that was a little funny.”

Clark threw up his hands. “I hate lying to her. In the first place, she’s too smart for me to get away with it for long, and in the second place, she has issues with trust already. If I want to have a real relationship with her, I’m going to have to be honest.”

“It seems a little soon for that.” Jonathan's smile faded. “I mean, I know you like this girl, but don’t forget she lied to you about who she was. Are you sure you can trust her?”

“I... no,” Clark admitted. “I think I can, but I don’t know if that’s just because I want so much for it to be true. Anyway, I agree that it’s too soon. I’m just going to have to hope that when and if I do tell her, she’ll be able to understand why I lied to her.”

“Well, honey, I wish we could give you some advice, but I think you’re going to have to figure this one out for yourself.” Martha handed him the suit and then reached down to pick up the fallen boot. “We don’t know Lois, and you do, so trust your instincts - they don’t usually lead you too far in the wrong direction.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Clark accepted the suit and the boots. “I’ll let you know how it goes. She’s working late tonight, so I’m going to go back to the newsroom and see if I can talk her into going to dinner with me.”

“When are you going to make your big debut?” his dad asked, indicating the suit.

“I have no idea,” Clark admitted. “I think I’ll just wait for something to happen like what happened today - when I know I have to do something to help. I’m hoping that when the moment comes, I’ll know it.”

“Well, we’ll look forward to hearing about it,” Martha said. “Call us.”

“I will, Mom.” Clark bent and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for all your hard work.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

“Take care, son,” Jonathan said, giving Clark a one-armed hug.

“You, too, Dad. Careful of the back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jonathan waved away his son’s concerns. “You’ve got plenty to worry about in Metropolis without worrying about that. Get out of here. Go see your girl.”

Clark grinned and gave his folks a wave. “You talked me into it. I’ll see you guys soon.”

__________________________________

Clark stopped at the Apollo long enough to stash his suit and then went back to the Daily Planet. The newsroom was nearly silent when he entered. Aside from Lois, only the copy editors were still there, working at their cluster of desks in the corner to put the finishing touches on the day’s stories. Lois was bent over her desk, so engrossed in Platt’s report that she didn’t even look up when the elevator doors opened and Clark stepped out.

“Hey there,” he called softly, warning her of his approach.

She still jumped slightly, clearly startled. “Hi,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. “What are you doing back here?”

“Just checking on you,” he admitted. “Thought I’d see if you’d had any dinner.”

“Oh. Um, no, I haven’t... but I don’t really think I can get away. I’m still trying to figure this thing out. It’s impossible - nothing matches, no dates. It’s just a mess.” She rubbed her forehead tiredly.

“Are you hungry? I could bring you something.”

“That’s... nice of you, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. What would you like?”

“I am starving,” she admitted. “Um, Chinese maybe?”

He smiled. “Leave it to me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As he left, he couldn’t resist reaching out and touching her shoulder briefly, just a light caress. Never in his life had he felt such a strong compulsion to touch someone. Normally, he agreed wholeheartedly with Lois’s sentiments about public displays of affection, but there was just something about her that made him forget where he was and drew his eyes and his hands like a magnet. He pulled his hand back and glanced quickly at the corner where the copy editors were working. No one seemed to have noticed, and he made his way quickly back to the elevator before he could give in to any further temptations.

He found a dark, secluded alley from which to take off and headed west at top speed, his destination Shanghai. He thought of his costume briefly - should he be wearing it for this? - but shrugged the thought away as quickly as it came. He wasn’t making his debut as a hero; he was just getting Chinese food, and he’d traveled the world plenty of times without being caught. He suspected that he’d been responsible for quite a few UFO sightings over the years, and as long as nothing linked the UFOs to Clark Kent, he didn’t much care.

About twenty minutes after he’d left, Clark was walking back into the newsroom, his arms laden with bamboo containers. This time, Lois heard him coming, and her eyes lit up at the sight of the food.

“That was fast!” she exclaimed.

“I took a short cut,” he told her, setting the food down on her desk and pulling up a chair. He began to open containers, giving her a glimpse of what was inside of each one. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got an assortment.”

She reached eagerly for a dumpling and bit right into it. “Mmmm,” she moaned. “This is out of this world. And it’s still hot.”

“Glad you like it,” he said, handing her some chopsticks. “We should go for Dim Sum sometime. I’m sure there are some great places here in Metropolis.”

“I tend to stick to Kung Po from Mr. Wong’s.” She flashed Clark a smile as she reached for another dumpling. “I’m not sure he’s even Chinese, actually, but he delivers to my apartment.”

“No Kung Po tonight,” Clark said, laughing. “But I’ve got braised pork and Shanghai noodles, and if you’re feeling adventurous, I brought some stir-fried eel.”

Lois wrinkled her nose. “Eel?”

“Just try a little. It’s delicious.” He’d wanted to bring back some hairy crab, which was his favorite of Shanghai’s delicacies, but in the end, he’d stuck with foods he thought he might plausibly get in Metropolis. “There are some more dumplings as well,” he said, offering her the container. “In China, you can buy these from street vendors - and all sorts of other foods, too. I’ve spent whole days just wandering around eating.”

“Mmmm. Sounds like my kind of day,” she said as she began to fix a plate. “How much time did you spend in China?”

He shrugged. “I never really kept track. I spent about a year in Asia, but I moved around a lot during that time.” He reached for his chopsticks and sneaked a serving of eel onto her plate.

“I saw that,” she said, pointing at the eel.

He grinned at her. “One bite. That’s all I ask.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, looking at the eel suspiciously. “Aren’t you going to fix a plate?”

“Yep. I’m starving.” As she began to eat, he served himself a healthy helping of everything he’d brought. When he was finished, Lois stabbed her chopsticks accusingly in the direction of his plate.

“You look like Mr. Hardbody and eat like a lumberjack,” she grumbled. “You must live at the gym.”

He shook his head. “Good metabolism.”

She glared at him. “If I didn’t kind of like you, I think I’d hate you for that.”

“You kind of like me?” he asked, laughing. “I feel like I’m back in eighth grade.”

“I never liked a boy well enough in the eighth grade to eat eels for him.”

“You haven’t eaten them for me, either,” Clark pointed out.

“All right, all right. I can see I’m not going to get out of this.” She snagged a tiny bite of eel with her chopsticks and quickly popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened with surprise and pleasure as she chewed and swallowed.

“See?” Clark said.

“It is good,” she admitted. “Different than I expected. But I think I like the pork better.”

“Want some more?” he asked, reaching for the container.

“No, thanks.” She shook her head. “I have more than enough already, and I need to get back to work soon.”

“Maybe I’ll offer some of the leftovers to the copy editors.”

“That would be nice,” she said slowly. She cocked her head at him, as if she were trying to figure him out. “You’re a nice guy, Clark Kent.”

He smiled. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I guess the only thing that surprises me is that you’d want anything to do with me,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure that out. Because I’m not all that nice, Clark, and if I weren’t so selfish, I’d warn you not to fall for me.”

“You’d be too late,” he told her softly, taking her hand and not giving a damn about the copy editors. “You’d be about five days too late.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth parted in surprise, and he was just utterly lost. It was as if the newsroom disappeared, and there was no one in the world but the two of them, sheltered by a fortress of bamboo containers. If Perry White himself had stormed in, he couldn’t have stopped Clark from leaning in and claiming Lois’s lips in a deep, tender kiss that made his heart pound and the blood sing through his veins. He only pulled away when the sound of giggling coming from the corner somehow managed to penetrate his consciousness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You said you didn’t want to do that.”

“I take it back,” she said breathlessly. “It was a stupid thing to say. In fact, I want to do that a whole lot more.”

The only possible response to that was to kiss her again, and they continued to sneak kisses in between bites of Chinese food, neither of them caring that they would probably be the talk of the newsroom the next day. Clark was amazed at how easy it was, how familiar, as if he’d been kissing her forever. Of course, he’d been intimate with this woman in a way he’d never been intimate with any other, but he thought the feeling was something more than just an echo of their night together.

“I wish I didn’t still have work,” Lois said, when they’d finished eating and were covering up the rest of the food.

“I do, too,” Clark admitted, even though he suspected it might be a blessing in disguise. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want this evening to end exactly as their evening at the Stardust had ended, but he knew it was much too soon for that. “You know, sometime I’d like to take you on a real date. One where we go out - eat in an actual restaurant instead of on a park bench or at your desk.”

“I might be able to find a place in my schedule for that. With enough advance warning.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly. “Here, hand me that and I’ll take it all over to the copy editors.”

“First we need to do the fortune cookies,” she said. She handed him the bamboo container he’d requested and then passed him a wrapped fortune cookie. “Hey,” she complained, as she cracked hers open. “This is written in Chinese.”

“Let me see,” he said, taking the slip of paper from her hand.

“Oh, don’t tell me you can read...”

“’A good horse is like a member of the family’,” he read.

She gave the paper a dirty look. “I hate that. That’s not a fortune. What does yours say?”

He cracked his open and a slow smile spread across his face. “’You will find romance in the workplace’.”

“It doesn’t say that!”

“Yes it does,” he insisted.

“You made that up.”

“Read it yourself,” he said, handing it to her.

She sniffed. “I don’t think you can even read Chinese.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

“Can too.”

“I think we’ve gone from eighth grade to second,” she said, tossing the fortune onto her desk.

Clark laughed. “Tell you what - you share your horse with me, and I’ll share my workplace romance with you.”

“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “That horse is like a member of the family.”

“Well, there’s always Cat Grant,” he teased, picking up his fortune.

“Give me that.” She snatched it out of his hand.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked.

“You drive a hard bargain, Farmboy.” She leaned forward and sealed the deal with a quick kiss. “But you’ve gotta get out of here now and let me work.”

“Are you sure you’re okay here so late at night?” he said, turning serious. “Because I could stay and see you home. I won’t bother you, I promise.”

“I’m fine, Clark. I’ve worked late about a million times before, and there’s security downstairs.”

“You’re not going anywhere else? Just straight home?”

“You’re even more of a fusspot than Perry, and that’s saying something. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said, relenting.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” He bent down and cupped her cheek in his hand before caressing her lips in a gentle kiss. “Be careful, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“’Night,” she murmured.

It took a great deal of fortitude for him to gather up the Chinese food and leave her desk, and even more for him to ignore the knowing looks he got from the group of copy editors who had been shamelessly watching his impromptu date with Lois. They accepted the Chinese food with enthusiasm, however, and he hoped they’d be satisfied enough with it that they wouldn’t tease Lois once he was gone. It was far, far too much to hope that they wouldn’t gossip the next day, but he figured if he and Lois were going to date, it wasn’t likely to remain a secret anyway. Might as well get it out in the open now, and hopefully, people would soon find something new to talk about.

When he left the newsroom, she was once again bent over her report, but he smiled a little to see that she was still fingering the tiny slip of paper that had contained his fortune.

True gold fears no fire, it had said.

He hoped Lois never learned to read Chinese.

____________________________

ETA Author's Note: Sorry - I was so tired by the time I posted this that I didn't think to put in a note. Judging by the first couple of comments, I probably should have. Because the whole story is a Pilot re-write, I've quit saying in every chapter that bits and pieces are being borrowed from the Pilot episode, but some certainly were in this chapter. Lois's fortune was taken straight from the Pilot, and I'm with her - I hate fortunes like that! Clark's real fortune is an actual Chinese proverb. I didn't make it up and don't take credit for it. I'd heard it before somewhere or another and looked it up to get the wording right.

Thanks as always to everyone who is following this story. I apologize for my erratic posting schedule but don't really look for it to change. All I can promise for sure is that I'll keep writing, and when I have a part ready, you'll get it as soon as I can post it. Thanks again! ~ Caroline