From part 2
As soon as Lois was out of view, Clark went to a nearby Superman store he had spotted earlier. He quickly got three sets of pajamas sporting the famous S-symbol: One for each of his parents and one for Lois. After that, he entered the shop Lois had been in last and bought the set she had reluctantly left behind. He was just glad he had been watching her in a mirror at the cafe he spent the time. Then another thought crossed his mind. Lois would be furious with him! But maybe she could be softened up with this particular treat! Heedless of the consequences, he left the shop and put his latest acqisition on the bottom of his Superman shopping bag. That way, Lois wouldn't find out too soon. He went in front of the cafe and waited for Lois. He didn't have to wait for long.
Part 3
"Hey, there you are!"
"Yeah, there and back again. So, what did you get?" Lois' eyes grew wide as she saw Clark's bag sporting the Superman emblem. She teased, "You really happen to be his greatest fan in the world, huh?"
"Actually, none of this is for me. These Superman articles are some sort of running gag between my parents and me. We usually try to find the most ridiculous piece available and share a good laugh after unwrapping it."
"You really want to tell me that *that's* how you got your collection? I don't believe it!"
"I guess you wouldn't believe half the tales I could tell you about me..." Clark responded almost regrtfully.
Lois decided to change the subject quickly. She knew that Clark was able to tell the stupidest stories at a moment's notice. She well remembered his latest. It was about the "Cheese of the Month Club". Very funny, indeed. She snorted in disgust.
"So, where else did you want to go with me?"
Clark smiled mockingly, knowing perfectly well about Lois' curious nature. "Well, since you certainly wouldn't believe me if I told you, I'll just have to show you. This way, Lois!"
Lois glared at him. But that changed as they were passing a book store, where Lois came to a sudden halt. Now, she glared at the series of books displayed in the window. They were written by a guy named "Jerry Clark". The first three of them were bestsellers, and the fourth one promised to become one, too.There was something about them that really made her furious.
"Penny for your thoughs." Of course, Clark had to realize that she was wandering off in her mind again.
"I was thinking about these books. That guy really annoys me."
"Don't you like his writing?" Clark inquired.
"It's not that. Not at all. I've never even read one of them. I just don't like that guy."
"Does that mean you know him?"
"No, not really. It's just... Do you remember last year when I challenged you?"
"Lois, you challenge me all the time. Could you be more specific?"
"It was that book-writing challenge. You had just been making fun of my novels, which - I quote - "wouldn't be finished in a lifetime". Just then we saw that sign announcing that there was a competition for would-be authors, and I challenged you on the spot to give it your best shot because I wanted to show you not only that I would finish my novel, but I also wanted to win."
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Clark remembered that day vividly, for it had made his life much more complicated. It was about half a year after he had started at the planet.
He and Lois were hitting the street, arguing about the best way to present their latest story. While Clark intended to wrap it up with emotion, Lois insisted that the mere facts should do the trick. Their argument grew ever more heated. Lois told him that she was perfectly well able to write something emotional, some fluffy waffy mood pieces. As Clark retorted that he very much doubted that, she shot back that she was actually working on a romance novel - which would never be finished, or so Clark had told her. They were short of shouting at each other about who was the better writer of the two of them when they passed a bookstore. Lois noticed that there was a sign outside, telling of a national novel-writing competition. The winning novel was to be rewarded with 10,000 dollars and promised to be published. Triumphantly, she pointed that sign out to her partner.
Clark didn't get her meaning, though. "What?"
"Oh, that's quite easy." Lois started to explain, "We'll both hand in a novel and see who will be ranked better."
"You aren't serious, are you?" Clark asked.
"You bet I am. Deal? Or are you chicken, Kent?" she shot back. 'After all, I don't have to use my real name, just in case...' she thought. 'There are certain things Clark doesn't have to know. Perhaps, I'll tell him sooner or later. Rather later.'
"Deal." he agreed. 'I'll be damned if I don't take up a pseudonym. Who knows what it'll be good for. How about Jerome Clark? No, too obvious. But Jerry Clark, that's just fine,' he thought. 'After all, Lois doesn't have to know everything. Not yet, anyway.'
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"And in the end, you would have won, if it weren't for that guy, right?"
"Exactly, how did you know?"
"Your pseudonym wasn't exactly hard to figure out, Miss Wanda Detroit."
"And your novel didn't even make it into the top ten!" Lois responded heatedly.
"Is it possible that you hate that guy just because he bested you in a stupid competition?"
"This competition was *not* stupid! And I did get a good second place - unlike another reporter I happen to know! It's even worse than that. Since I took second place to that guy, I tried to get at least an exclusive interview. I've broken into his editor's office and found out when he was going to meet him again. And I made sure to be there. And what happened? First, this guy was at least half an hour early, so I didn't even get to look at him when he entered, he even left *through the window* and down the fire escape as if he knew that I had been waiting there. Of course, I never got another chance to meet him. And *this* is what makes me really mad!"
Clark thought about that for a moment. His recollection of that day was equally vivid. Back then, he had already figured that Lois didn't like that she had lost, but if she found out that *he* was the one who won, she'd be positively mad. That's why he had decided that day to avoid her by getting out through the window. Wisely, he decided to keep that tidbit of information to himself. He knew from experience that it was better to let her run out of steam before trying to talk sense into her. Thus, he guided her to the place he wanted her to go, opting for a quick change of subject.
"Here we are."
"Clark, what am I supposed to get at a tailor's?"
"I thought of a dress for the ball on New Years Eve. You have agreed to go with me, remember?"
Lois wanted to argue, but if this day had taught her something, it was *not* to argue with Clark - at least when he wanted to spend money. Lately, she had lost every single argument on that matter. It hadn't even helped to remind Clark that she made more money than he did.
In the meantime, the tailor greeted them, and Clark gave a short statement on her need for "something special". The middle aged woman took Lois behind a curtain and took her measurements.
Since this took some time, Clark made a hasty exit and went back to the bookstore, where he bought all four of *his* books. Overhearing two of his fans talking about him, he was glad to have used a pseudonym. Merely listening to what they intended to do to him should they ever get hold of him made him blush five shades of red.
Clark quickly put his books at the very bottom of his Superman-bag and rushed back to meet Lois, who was just stepping in front of the curtain. Clark used his X-ray vision to have a look at the tailor's notes and memorized them. A plan was taking shape in his mind.
"I hope you don't expect me to choose something in burgundy?"
"You know I wouldn't pressure you, no matter how badly I want to see you in that particular colour."
"That's good. Because I won't let anybody dictate me what I'm to dress in."
"I just want you to get something that you feel comfortable in."
"No matter what it looks like?"
"Lois, I wouldn't even stop you if you decided to wear bright orange or barbie doll pink, although I don't believe that these are exactly your colours."
"So what would you do if I chose to wear barbie doll pink?" Lois inquired with a giggle.
"I'd wear a shirt of the same colour under my tux," Clark replied. Thinking of Clark in a tux with a barbie doll pink shirt resulted in both of them bending over with laughter.
After that, Lois went into yet another room to choose the cut and material for her dress. Since Clark had stayed back, she impulsively chose something in burgundy. Perhaps Clark deserved to get his wish, after all. When she returned to Clark, she cheerfully grabbed his arm and dragged him out.
** Saturday, early evening **
Lois and Clark unburdened themselves in his living-room when Clark asked, "How do you feel about dinner?"
"I'd appreciate that," Lois answered.
"How about this: I'll cook and you unpack your things," Clark suggested.
"I really like the idea of you cooking," Lois replied, "but where am I supposed to put my things?"
Clark lead her into his bedroom, opened his wardrobe and shoved his regular suits aside to make room for her new clothes. Then he did the same with his other compartments and even emptied two of his drawers. All the time Lois stood there, rendered speechless. She'd never have expected that, much less how right it felt to simply put her things in Clark's place. Still, she felt a little uneasy. That was not the way it was supposed to be. Admittedly, she liked Clark, she even liked him a lot, but what he was implying here looked more like a relationship. She was abysmal at having relationships. She had always managed to screw them up and lose all contact with the guy in question. And she sure as hell didn't want to lose Clark. He was her best friend. Her only real friend, to be honest. The prospect of loosing him was terrifying.
"I hope this will be enough. Should you need more, just holler," Clark instructed her, stopping Lois' line of thought.
Just when he was turning to leave for the kitchen, Lois spoke up,
"This feels so strange. Like moving in with you for real."
Clark pondered that for a moment before answering, "That's what it is you're doing. But it's only for the time being. Unless you insist on different arrangements." His tone turned the last statement into a question.
"No, of course not," Lois hastend to assure him. "It just feels strange, that's all."
Clark watched Lois for a while. He thought he could see conflicting emotions on her face, but he couldn't make head or tail of it. Not yet, anyway. And it didn't look as if Lois was ready to talk about it. Deciding that he'd have time enough to find out what this was all about - after all, Lois wasn't likely to turn and run away - he once again turned to leave, telling her, "You'll find me in the kitchen."
"Clark?" she called him back. When he looked at her, she continued in an incredibly soft and sweet voice, "I just wanted to thank you."
Clark came over to her, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. Equally gently, his eyes burning with suppressed passion and longing, he said, "I've already told you: You are welcome." Lois smiled at him. When she saw him smile back, she tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. It only lasted for a few seconds, but for Clark, this was enough. Because he knew that, whatever it was that was bothering her, it had nothing to do with Lois not wanting to stay.
Later, they were eating in companionable silence. After they had finished their main dishes, Lois commented, "Hmm, this Chinese you cooked is delicious. I mean, I already knew you were good in the kitchen, but I'd never have expected a meal like that. Where did you learn to cook like that?"
Clark graced her with an amused grin. "I just followed the recipe in my Chinese cookbook."
"Oh, may I have a look at it?" she asked, but Clark didn't look as if he'd let her. "Please. Pretty please."
Clark shifted uncomfortably when answering, "Lois, I honestly don't think that it will do you any good."
Lois couldn't believe her ears. "Did I misinterpret, or have you just criticised my cooking skills?" she inquired sharply.
"No, it's just.."
"So you *are* criticising me, all right!" Clark looked at her, figuring that the best thing to do was to let her have her wish. With a sigh, he got up and went into the kitchen. When he returned, he offered Lois the book this whole argument was all about.
"Now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?" she cooed. Very soon she realized that Clark was right. "It's all... Chinese, I suppose?" She looked up at Clark in wonder.
"Yes, it is. You already knew that I can read it," he stated flatly.
"Do you also speak it?" Lois asked.
"Sure. Mandarin as well as Wu and Cantonese. Why wouldn't I speak their languages if I took the trouble of learning their script?" Clark reasoned.
It took Lois some time before she asked her next question, "How many languages do you actually speak?"
"More than you can even name - without a dictionary, that is."
"If this is a bet, you're gonna loose it," Lois replied, "I had to write an essay on languages and language drifts, so I know a fair number of languages by name." At Clark's silent nod to continue, she challenged him with the first languages that sprang to her mind.
"How is your French?"
"~Perfectly fluent and accentless. How's yours?~"
"Worse than that. Spanish?"
"~Exactly the same.~"
"Portuguese?"
"~Lois, this language is pretty similar to Spanish, which I learned previously. Learning Portuguese was no big feat. And before you ask, I'm also fluent in Italian.~"
"I didn't get a word, but how's your Italian?"
"~I just told you about that one.~"
"I guess that's an affirmative. Greek?"
"~Modern as well as some ancient Greek~"
"German? Dutch?"
"Both of them. Wanna hear?"
"I'll take your word for it. Just nod or shake your head, okay?" At Clark's nod, she continued,
"Swedish? Norwegian? Danish?"
Clark nodded three times.
"Romanian? Japanese? Vietnamese? Korean? Thai?" Five more nods.
"Arabic? Hebrew? Latin?" Three nods.
"Persian? Hindi? Punjabi?" Three more nods.
"Russian? Polish? Hungarian?" Again, three nods.
Lois sighed in exasperation. "Swiss? Austrian? Brazilian?"
"You're making these up!"
"I'm not doing any such thing!"
"Lois, there are several languages spoken in Switzerland, namely French, Italian, German and Rumantsch. In Austria, people speak German, and in Brazil, people speak Portuguese," Clark explained.
Lois was near to admitting defeat. "That's disgusting. Isn't there any language you don't speak?"
"Martian?" Clark suggested with a shrug.
"That's very funny. There are no little green men on Mars, Clark."
"What about Martian Manhunter?" Clark asked.
"He's neither small nor on Mars." At her droll comment, he bent over with laughter.
Lois merely grinned. When Clark finally regained his composure, Lois ambushed him. "I think I know a language you don't speak: Kryptonian."
He looked at her in shock. "That has never occurred to me, but you're right, I don't know a single word in Kryptonian." This was something he regretted, but was unable to change.
"I still don't get how you do it. I mean, that's an awful lot of languages you speak. Or did you make it up?" she teased.
"I really speak all those languages. I picked them up during my travels," Clark admitted.
"It's still more than *I* would've been able to pick up in several decades. How is it possible?"
"I guess I've got a knack for learning languages," Clark said.
"Is there anything you cannot do?" Lois inquired, "Apart from the obvious, that is?"
"Obvious?" Clark pressed.
"Well, like flying."
"Oh, that." He smiled ruefully. "I can't sing in tune."
"Come on, Clark, there must be more than that!" Lois exclaimed.
"Why don't you tell me what I can't do?" he dared his partner.
After thinking for a moment, she started to tick the points off her fingers. "Well, you are practically unable to endure serious conversations. You can't see evil if it's female, blond and what *some* men would call attractive. You can't write good novels." Then, rising in volume as well as in pitch, she concluded "And you can't be serious about me telling you about all your faults!"
Clark wasn't offended in the least and started to defend himself immediately. "Well, I won't say that there isn't a problem with having serious conversations. But believe me, there is an at least equally serious reason for that. Second," he held up his thumb and his index finger while saying that, "just because I've been taught to be polite doesn't mean that I fall for every woman with good looks. And I'm not in for blonds in general or one blonde in particular. Third, yes, I can. Believe me, I can. And I'll prove it to you soon enough."
Lois tried to interrupt him but was stopped short by his patented "make-grown-up-girls-like-Lois-go-weak-in-the-knees" smile. "And, yes, I was serious about wanting to know of which faults you find me guilty."
Since they were besieged by an uncomfortable silence, Clark decided to lighten the mood by announcing dessert. At Lois' unspoken question, he hastened to assure her that it contained chocolate as a main ingredient. That was enough to make her forget everything but dessert. But even dessert is eaten sooner or later, and Lois and Clark still had an evening left to spend.
"So, what are we going to do now? Any more videos you might want to watch?" Clark inquired after they had taken care of the dishes.
"No, not really. Originally, I had planned to go to Saturday Evening Poker at the Planet, but since I haven't been to work..."
"We can still go there. We might be a little late, but..."
He didn't stand a chance of continuing any further because Lois interrupted him brusquely, "Oh, and what, exactly, do you think will Perry say? Don't forget that we skipped work today!"
Clark took a deep breath at Lois accusatory tone. "I told Perry everything about your apartment. He'll understand. As for our other colleagues, we can simply claim that we have been up to something. Since they'll believe we were up to something concerning a story, they won't pursue the matter."
Seeing that his reasoning was sound, Lois went to grab her new coat. "You coming, partner?" Shaking his head, Clark made sure to catch up with her before she entered their rental car.
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tbc next week
