Title: Alchemical Attraction
Rated: PG
Summary: In this alternate beginning, Lois and Clark meet four years prior to the events of the Pilot episode while investigating villainous chemists at a journalism workshop in upstate New Troy.
Part 2
Lois had seen the lounge chairs when she had looked out over the patio during dinner. One wall of the cafeteria was an unlined expanse of window overlooking the patio, and, beyond that, a rolling hill of slightly haphazardly-manicured lawn. The far edge of the patio ended with a large grill. Sizable enough to roast a whole hog, Lois thought with a shudder. A sidewalk extended past the other side, apparently allowing easy access to the other campus buildings.
It was the green lawn and the lure of the smell of fresh cut grass that tempted Lois to leave her room after dinner and settle down into one of the nearby loungers. Yes, she was indeed a city girl, but it was exactly for that reason that the chance to enjoy sitting outside was appealing. Green grass—not the dry, slightly brittle stuff that was contained in Centennial Park and was so covered with an ever-present layer of dust that it looked more brown than green—now green grass was a rarity worth viewing, like a fine painting.
Inhaling the scent of grass, nearby flowers, and fresh earth, Lois took a few moments to compose her thoughts from the first day of the Workshop. These idiots at the Center seemed to think they should teach the “correct” way to hunt down sources, but Lois had a feeling that the real pros in the field took a few shortcuts to find out what they needed to know. She had just started to nod off when a voice penetrated her consciousness, startling her into a sitting position.
“They should put a bell around your neck, Kent. What are you doing out here?”
“I was out for a walk and thought I’d check out the view from the patio,” Clark replied.
“Well, not much worth looking at. Some grass, a few scraggly trees out there, and a lot…wow…a lot of stars!” Lois said as she settled back into a reclining position to get a better look at the night sky.
Sliding down into the lounge chair next to her, Clark said, “I used to sit outside as a kid and look up at the stars, trying to find all the constellations. There were always too many to see.”
“All I know is the Big Dipper,” said Lois. “You can’t see many stars from Metropolis.”
“Look, do you see that line of three stars across, and then several stars in a line stretching down from the last one? That’s the belt of Orion, the hunter. Then the ‘w’-shaped stars off to the other side, that’s Cassiopeia.”
“Really?” Lois asked, “I see the belt, but I can’t find the ‘w’.”
Clark leaned over so that his head was level with hers and guided her hand, held inside his, up towards the sky to point out the stars. “There. See it now?”
“Yes, now I see," she said, pulling her hand away. "How did you learn all the constellations?”
“My dad used to take me out to look at the stars. He said that he became an astronomy buff not long after I was born. He taught me to find the planets and identify the constellations. He was a great teacher.”
“Well,” Lois said, “You’re lucky. My father is a doctor and never had time for me or my sister. He was too busy working, or off enjoying quality time with one of his office assistants!”
“What about your mother,” Clark asked as he settled back into his own lounger.
“When she wasn’t sitting around drunk, she was too busy ranting and raving about how lousy my father was to pay much attention to us kids. As the oldest, I was left to fend for myself and take care of my younger sister, Lucy.”
“Ouch. I’m lucky. My parents are great. They both spent a lot of time with me when I was growing up, and I still live with them now.”
“Humph. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. That’s why I love my job. It keeps me busy so that I don’t have time to visit my family.”
“Hiding behind your job. Why does that not surprise me,” Clark laughed. “What other secrets are you hiding, Lois Lane?”
“You have *no* idea,” responded Lois, matching his laugh to her own.
They spent an enjoyable time chatting about nothing and everything. Clark was stretched out in the lounge chair next to her, and although neither one was looking directly at the other, their voices softly drifted back and forth. Lois didn’t understand it, but it just felt so right to be with Clark, sharing her feelings and her goals of winning a Kerth before age 25 and a Pulitzer by age 35. She wasn’t even afraid to talk about her family, and the crazy household she grew up in. Normally, she wouldn’t have mentioned that to anyone for fear they would feel sorry for her or think she was somehow ‘damaged’. Maybe because she thought she would never see Clark again, he was safe to open up with and really talk to.
Even though Clark grew up in Kansas, she felt they shared similar values and desires. It wasn’t often that she found someone else idealistic enough to feel that journalism could change the world. That was more of a surprise to her than this instant connection she felt around him. Who would have thought that she would have anything in common with a farm boy from the Midwest?
She didn’t feel like this when she talked with Claude. Maybe because they worked together, all they ever spoke about was their respective stories they were investigating, never delving into philosophical discussions about journalism in general. Well, maybe stories weren’t all they talked about, with Claude occasionally throwing out a mention of some wild party he’d attended, always offering to bring her along the next time he was invited. They had spent several evenings having dinner and talking (as two colleagues, of course, not, as a date), but never had she felt comfortable opening herself up to him in this way. It was a new and scary feeling. Just because she was at ease around Clark didn’t mean anything, Lois told herself. She couldn’t--wouldn’t--let herself become giddy over a man. Knowing that her life left no time for relationships, she decided that she probably shouldn’t be so friendly with him. He’s probably naïve enough to fall for me if I’m not careful, she thought. The single chime of the old college carillon brought Lois from her reverie.
“Oh no. It’s already 1 a.m. I can’t believe we’ve been talking this long!” Lois said.
“I think it’s time to call it a night. Shall I walk you to your room?”
“No thanks, Clark. It’s just inside the door. I think I can find the way. Good night.”
“Good night, Lois.” Clark said as he turned to walk inside and up the stairs to his room. “Sweet dreams,” she thought she heard his retreating figure murmur.
********
Clark had awakened refreshed and excited about the coming day’s activities. He had really enjoyed chatting with Lois last night. Alone with her, the tough façade seemed to drop off, and he learned that she was surprisingly vulnerable. Her family situation must be one of the reasons why she felt the need to put up a shell around herself to keep everyone else from getting too close. Of course, Clark figured that in the light of day, Lois was less likely to admit to any of the warm feelings she had exhibited last night, at least not without some encouragement. Spotting her in the cafeteria breakfast line that morning, he walked up to her holding two cups of coffee.
“I thought you might need some caffeine this morning,” Clark said, holding one of the cups out to her.
“Humph,” Lois brusquely replied. “Sweetener?”
“Right here. Sleep well?” Clark asked. Her terse reply had reinforced his fear that she would be a little nervous about facing the stranger to whom she had bared her soul the night before.
“Just fine, Kent. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m waiting for my bagel to finish toasting,” Lois said as she turned away from him.
“Don’t mind her,” said a voice from Clark’s right. “Mad Dog Lane doesn’t socialize with anyone, especially not unless you’re a source for her story.”
“Hey, Greg, right? Morning. Yeah, I guess you’re right. Just trying to be nice to my partner.”
“I pity you, man. I met Lois at a conference this past spring, and boy, does she have a reputation as a pit bull. You’d think that a looker like that would be friendlier, but watch out. If you can stand to be partnered with her, you’ll earn more respect from this crowd than from any journalistic achievements.”
“Uh, yeah. Point taken. Let’s grab a seat.” Clark commented as he steered Greg out of earshot of Lois and over to one of the dining tables.
Settling down into the classroom that morning, Clark noticed that Lois sat in the same seat again today, next to him. True, they still were working on their project together, but it was some comfort that she would choose to sit next to her partner again. Glancing over at her, Clark saw Lois turn a little and give him a brief smile. Perhaps she wasn’t too upset with him after all.
Another instructor, this one from the Washington Post, faced the Workshop attendees later that morning.
“My name is Karen Keene, and I’m here to help you learn more about research techniques for investigations. We’ll be adjourning to the Center’s Library in a few minutes, but before we do so, I want to let you know that we have some additional help for you on your research tasks. Concurrently with the Investigative Journalism Workshop, the Center is also hosting a Computer Research Workshop for college students. Since this is the first year of the program, we only have a small group of students, but it’s enough to partner them up with each of you to gain some additional experience on both sides. Remember, many of you will use interns at work to help with your research, so this is designed to help you become familiar with supervising a researcher and guiding them to help with your investigative work. Plus, if you’re lucky, you’ll learn some computer skills along the way. If everyone is ready, we’ll head over to the library now.”
“Great, just what we need. Some schmuck to babysit,” Lois whispered to Clark as they walked together out the door and towards the library building next door.
“Try to be a little more positive, Lois. You never know,” Clark replied.
A handful of youthful faces eagerly looked out upon the journalists as they stepped inside the main entrance to the Library. Karen explained to everyone the different types of databases the library offered and spent time going over the various passwords needed to access them, and then began the orderly task of pairing the students with the journalism teams.
“Jimmy, you’ll be working with Lois Lane and Clark Kent” she said.
“Hey, cool! Hi, guys. I’m Jimmy Olsen, sophomore at Met U,” he said, while holding out his hand to Clark.
Shaking his hand, Clark said, “Nice to meet you, Jimmy. Clark Kent, Smallville Press, and this is Lois Lane from the Daily Planet.”
“Daily Planet, whoa! This is going to be so much fun. I’m still deciding between computers, photography, and journalism for my major. I’d love to work at a big paper like the Planet someday. You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“Right, maybe later. Right now, we need you to find out more about these people we’re supposed to be researching for our project,” said Lois, barely suppressing the exasperated tone in her voice.
“Sure thing. My dad taught me about computers since I was a kid, so I’ve learned a few tricks along the way. I’ll have your data in no time.”
Clark watched as Jimmy deftly accessed the library’s database and pulled up a full biography on each of the politicians that he and Lois were studying. Jimmy also managed to access their DMV records and find out how many parking violations each had, as well as uncover one Representative’s old DUI from two years ago. Even Lois seemed to be impressed with his research skills, although Clark’s only clue to her feelings was her continued silence about Jimmy’s work. The two of them were seated on either side of Jimmy, who faced the computer terminal. At one point, Lois even turned and patted Clark’s back when Jimmy was able to turn up some interesting notes about a former Senator’s financial records.
“You know,” Jimmy started, “these computers are pretty good, but at Met U they have the latest technology. In my classes, we store everything on these tiny new floppy disks--”
“Jimmy! Just focus on the project. Clark, look at this list of campaign contributors to the senator.”
Clark was peering over Jimmy’s shoulder to concentrate on the glowing green text visible on the black screen in front of him when a young woman came up from behind carrying a slip of paper.
“Clark Kent?” she said.
“Yes.”
“This is for you. Your fiancée asked you to call her before 5 pm today.”
“Thanks,” Clark replied, with a groan. He hastily shoved the paper into his pocket and glanced at Lois and Jimmy from the corner of his eye. Lois’s eyes widened before she fixed him with an evil stare.
Jimmy spoke first. “Fiancée, huh. Congratulations, CK! You don’t mind if I call you, CK, do you? When’s the wedding?”
“Um…she’s not my fiancée, exactly. We’ve dated off and on the last few years but haven’t made any definite plans for the future,” Clark replied.
“Cool! I’ll bet she’s a hot babe, isn’t she. Got a picture?” Jimmy asked.
“Earth to Jimmy. Can we get back to the project? After all, if Clark wanted to talk about his *fiancée*, I’m sure he would have said something about her earlier.” said Lois, turning further away from Clark after fixing him with a beady glare.
“Lois, it wasn’t like I deliberately chose not to mention Lana. And she’s *not* my fiancée,” Clark said.
“No, well, after spending three hours talking with you last night, I would have thought that a girl who considers herself a fiancée would come up in conversation, but I guess not.”
“Lana is…well…it’s complicated.”
“Complicated!” said Lois, “How so? She’s probably your high school sweetheart, right? I’ll bet you’ve been friends since grade school. You gradually fell in love and are planning to have 2.4 children and live in a house with a picket fence and a tree swing in the back yard. It doesn’t sound so complicated to me.”
“It’s not like that,” said Clark, “Well, maybe it is like that…somewhat.”
“Whatever. Let’s get back to work.”
“Geez, women!” Clark heard Jimmy mutter under his breath as he turned back to the computer.
