PREVIOUSLY...
Dismissing Lucy from her mind, Lois immediately returned to Kent’s bedroom. He was partially lying on his bed, his feet still on the floor, his breathing labored. He was even still fully dressed, shoes and all. Maybe she shouldn’t have listened to him about not going to the hospital. But she knew how he felt. She hated hospitals with a passion. Still, if he had internal bleeding...
Well, she’d just have to stay until she was certain he was going to be okay. Moving from her position by the door, she walked towards his bed. As she did, she spotted the picture of her from the newspaper lying on his night stand. She pushed aside the implications of finding that photo there and took a seat on the side of his bed. He cracked open his eyes.
AND NOW...
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Five
* * * * * * * * *
“Hey, Kent. You look like hell,” Lois said softly, her hand automatically coming up to caress his face.
“You look beautiful,” he responded. “You saved my life. Thank you.”
She shrugged. “Just returning the favor.” She gently removed his glasses, setting them on the night stand.
With what looked like an attempt to smile around the cut on his lip, he responded. “Didn’t want to owe me, huh?”
She smiled. “Something like that.”
He struggled to rise. Failing miserably, he collapsed back on his bed.
“We’ve got to make you more comfortable,” Lois said, turning her attention to his shoes. He watched as she undid and removed each shoe and sock in turn. Then she turned his attention back to him. “Come on,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
“Where are we going?” he asked, even as he struggled to help her raise him into a seated position on the edge of his bed.
“We need to check out your injuries,” she said with a calm she wasn’t exactly feeling.
“And how are you planning...” He stared at her in disbelief when she began unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?” He made a insubstantial attempt to get her hands away from his shirt.
She batted his hands away, counting on him being too weak to resist. When he quit struggling, she continued with her mission. She had to see. Were there any open wounds on him? Any indication that he might have a punctured lung or internal bleeding? Best she know now. And given his apparent fear of hospitals, she didn’t trust him to level with her about how he was feeling.
“It’s either you let me take a look at your injuries, or I call 9-1-1 and have them send an ambulance.”
When he quit struggling, she slipped the shirt off his shoulders. Her breath caught when she saw the multicolored bruises and cuts on his chest. They really had done a number on him. The multitude of colors was amazing - in a horrifying sort of way. Instinctively, she ran her fingers very lightly over one of the first spots, suddenly lost in the feel of his chest under her fingertips.
“Lane,” Kent said softly.
Lois quickly jerked away in confusion. “Sorry,” she mumbled, taking his shirt off the bed and heading for the closet to hang it up. Anything... anything... to get some distance from him. What the hell had ever possessed her to do that?
Once she had regained her composure, she turned back around.
‘Damn, girl!’ Lois silently rebuked herself. ‘Get it together. Regardless of any of the other reasons not to get involved with him, one does not seduce an injured man.’
Kent began relaxing back onto the bed, suddenly snapping Lois out of her embarrassment.
“No. No,” she said, rushing back over to him. “We’ve still got to...” She knelt before him once again, pulling at the buckle on his trousers.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, although his voice was still feeble.
“Would you relax, Kent. It’s not as if I haven’t seen it before. I might have been drugged on the pheromone compound, but I’m not likely to forget what you look like naked.” She almost smiled when he turned beat red - turn about was fair play, after all. Only the realization that if he thought she was laughing at him, he might garner the strength to stop her kept the smile at bay. After all, if he really did decide to stop her... Well, she’d probably win the battle in his current state, but fighting her wouldn’t do him any good.
As it was, she had to struggle with his hands for a moment before he seemed to give up.
“It’s okay, Kent,” she said softly, keeping her eyes on his as she undid his belt buckle, popped the button on his trousers and pulled down his zipper. “I’m not going to take advantage of you. I just need to know that you’re all right.”
He looked at her, seeming to relax.
“Look at it this way,” she said, rising to her feet. “You treated my injuries the other day. I’m just returning the favor. Now... if I help you stand, can you get your trousers off or...”
“I can do it.”
She regarded him for a moment before nodding. Best to let him try, at least. “Okay, well then...” She wrapped her arms around him, almost buckling under his weight as she pulled him to his feet. A moment later, he had kicked off his trousers and she was assisting him in climbing between the sheets on his bed.
“I’m going to go find that stuff you put on my cuts the other day,” she said without meeting his eyes. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that she turned and left the room, only truly breathing again when he was no longer in sight. It seemed her memory of what he looked like naked had not failed her. Other than the cuts and bruises he was currently sporting, he was an absolutely gorgeous specimen of a man. And every part of her that was a woman knew it.**
“Ooo, this is getting interesting,” Clark said. “So tell me what happened then?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“You don’t remember?”
A grin crinkled his eyes. “Let’s pretend I don’t.”
She met his grin. “Okay... well, you asked for it.”
**Realizing she was in trouble, Lois quickly grabbed her coat and fled the apartment. He was just going to have to take care of himself.**
“Wait a minute! That’s not what happened,” Clark said.
“No?” Lois asked, looking as innocent as possible. “Well, maybe my memory is faulty. Why don’t you tell me what happened next?”
Realizing he’d been taken, he squared his chin. “All right. I will.”
**Clark crinkled his eyebrows when Lois came back in carrying a phone along with the first aid supplies. “What?” he asked.
“I called the police, told them where they could find Corbin. I really don’t know the story...” She shrugged. “But I thought you might... Although, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention me. It would raised too many questions - including the question of how you scooped me.”
“You’re giving me the phone to call in the story?” he asked in disbelief.
“I don’t really know enough to have a story. I know you were kidnapped. I mean I called Jimmy and told him the police had Corbin’s location. And I know that Corbin is some sort of cyborg. Other than that, all I have is you getting yourself beaten half to death - and that’s hardly a story.”
Clark raised his eyebrows. She handed him the phone and started to leave the room when he called to her.
She turned back towards him.
He hesitated for a second before he made his decision. “Since you saved me, I suppose it’s only right that you get the story, too. Oh, I’ll call in my story. But then... I’ll answer any questions you have.”
She seemed suspicious for a moment before walking slowly closer, as if she was still trying to find the angle in his offer.**
“Why did you do it?” Lois asked.
“I told you why. You had saved my life. In my opinion, that entitled you to the same information I had. After all, if you hadn’t come in when you did, I wouldn’t have been able to report any story because I’d have been dead.”
“You know, that’s your problem, Clark,” Lois said. “You’re too soft for this job.”
Clark smiled. “I’m only too soft when it comes to you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please! Me. Puppies. Small children. And just about anyone else who needs your help.” She gave him a grin. “You have no idea how much that confused me, though. Even after you’d told me everything, even after I’d heard you call in your story, so that I knew the information you’d given me was accurate, and even after I’d called in mine...”
**Lois lay on the couch trying to make sense of the evening. Kent was still as much of a mystery now as he ever had been - maybe even more so. Twice now, he’d betrayed her cover in an effort to prevent her from getting the story. So why had he given her this story? What was in it for him?
She would have thought it was some sort of attempt to get her into bed, but that didn’t make sense either. After all, he was hardly in a position to demand anything of her. He hardly had the strength to stand.
Pushing back the blanket, she rose to her feet. Before she knew what was happening, she was standing in the doorway to his bedroom. She stared, transfixed, at his form, lit only by moonlight. He seemed to be resting comfortably now. She could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
Moving closer was not a conscious choice. She seemed drawn to him, quite definitely against her will. He was beautiful. Oh, yes, he did have a black eye - although it didn’t seem nearly as bad now as it had been earlier. Or... the dim lighting was keeping it from seeming as bad as it had in the light.
Earlier. Her mind took her back to treating his wounds earlier. Running her fingers over his chest and arms and legs as she’d gently applied the antiseptic cream. She hadn’t dared look into his eyes. She hadn’t wanted to see how it was affecting him. She hadn’t wanted him to see how it was affecting her.
Her eyes ran over the white sheet covering his gorgeous body. That sheet... and his boxers the only things keeping him from being fully exposed to her wandering eyes. Until she’d met Kent, she wouldn’t have believed she could be turned on just by the sight of a man’s body. But Kent was... exceptional. Muscular but not grotesque. Every inch of his body was tuned and honed to perfection. His arms, his chest, his stomach... God, even his thighs turned her on. Even standing here now, thinking about the body hidden by that sheet, she knew her breathing was deeper and her temperature had risen.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes.
“Lane,” he said softly.
A thrill traveled down her spine at the gravelly texture of his voice. She should have been embarrassed to have been caught watching him. She should be saying something about checking on him to make sure he was okay. She should be turning and leaving the room. But there was something in his eyes that kept her rooted to the ground beneath her feet. She watched as his eyes darkened and felt heat begin to rise in her belly. She licked her lips.
Slowly, he pulled back the covers of his bed in what was clearly an invitation. Climbing into bed with him wasn’t a considered decision. Instinct was leading her on.
Once their lips met, the warmth that traveled through her body was almost intoxicating, clouding her mind to everything but desire. He’d almost died today. Perhaps she merely needed to know that they were both alive. Maybe that was what made her crawl closer, allowing his hands to settle on her waist, traveling gently up and down her sides as the kiss deepened.
Her breathing quickened. Her body felt as if it were on fire. As her own hands roamed over his chest, carefully exploring every muscle. His hands slipped under the edge of her shirt, finding the skin that lay beneath.
“Kent,” she breathed, breaking his kiss long enough to sit up and pull off her blouse, tossing it to the side. She wanted nothing between his hands and her skin.
“What are we doing?” Kent asked.
“I was really hoping not to have to explain it to you,” she responded teasingly, even as her lips found his again.
He seemed hesitant for only a moment more and then he managed, in spite of his injuries, to roll them over so that she was under him.
“Yes,” she whispered staring up into his eyes.
A small whimper escaped from the back of his throat before he was kissing her again, this time with no restraint. Everything suddenly took on a dream-like quality. The removal of what remained of her clothing - of his. The roaming of hands and lips. Touching. Exploring. Breathless gasps and tender endearments until nothing existed in the world except the two of them and this single, solitary moment in time.**
“So what happened then?” Clark asked.
She swatted him. “You know full well what happened then.”
His expression softened. “I remember,” he said. He turned his chair so that he was facing her, reaching out to run his fingers down her cheek. “I lost my virginity.”
Her hand came up, covering his hand to hold it against her. “And I learned the meaning of a new word.”
“What word?”
“Wow.”
Clark smiled.
“I can even remember how I woke up the next morning,” Lois said before continuing with the story.
**Lois wasn’t sure she’d been ever woken up in such a satisfying manner. Gentle kisses were being planted all over her face. Kent. She knew the feel of his kiss. She knew his smell. It was as if everything about him was implanted on her soul - a long buried memory simply waiting to be awakened. Yes, if there were a better way to wake up, she’d never experienced it.
She opened her eyes, a half-smile playing around her lips. “Good morning,” she said softly.
“A very good morning,” Kent agreed, smiling down at her.
He leaned in to kiss her, when she suddenly stopped him with a hand on his chest. “What happened to your face?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?” Kent asked, suddenly looking as if he was trying to hide from her. He quickly sat up, moving over to the edge of the bed.
Lois raised herself on her elbow, watching as he reached across to pick up his glasses. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. But... what?
“Your bruises... they’re gone.” She suddenly gasped, running her eyes down his back. “Everywhere. How is that possible?” She moved into a seated position.
Clark grabbed his trousers off the floor and pulled them on.
“Kent, talk to me. How is that possible?”
“I guess they weren’t as bad as you thought they were,” he responded. But the fact that he wasn’t looking at her told her he wasn’t telling the truth.
“Was this all some sort of trick? Did you have those thugs pretend to kidnap you and...”
“What?” He spun towards her. “No! How would that even be possible?”
“Then how is that...” She pointed to the unblemished skin of his chest. “...possible?”
“I healed. People heal.”
“Not that fast.”
“Then how do you explain it?”
Lois studied him for a moment. He knew the explanation. Everything in his stance told her he did. He was looking defensive, guilty even. “Fine!” she said, pulling the sheet out of the bed to wrap it around herself as she stormed towards the bathroom, snapping up various articles of clothing as she went. “If you feel like coming clean when I come out, I’ll listen. Otherwise...” She didn’t finish her threat.**
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so caught off guard in my life,” Clark said. “It hadn’t even occurred to me to worry about my bruises. The whole time you were in the bathroom, I debated telling you the truth. But... I guess I already knew that I couldn’t.”
“So... bottom line... You didn’t trust me.”
“There’d been so much history between us. I just... I needed more time to be sure.”
‘So... bottom line. You didn’t trust me. You were willing to sleep with me...”
“I don’t recall a whole lot of sleeping going on.” He flinched when she glared at him. “Sorry,” he said contritely.
“You were willing to sleep with me, but you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” The words were an accusation.
Clark took her hands in his. “Honey, keep in mind that none of this actually happened. This is just some sort of screwed up reality. And as soon as we figure out what we did to change things, we’re going to change it back.”
Lois closed her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It just...”
“...seems so real?”
She nodded. “Still...”
**Lois forced herself to calm down during her time in the bathroom. After all, not even she could figure out how all of this could have been some elaborate set up to get her into bed. First, he was right. There was no way he could know that she’d come after him. Second, any plan would have to involve her sister. And Lucy would never betray her like that. They’d always had their scuffles, but when it came to the outside world, it had always been them against the world.
Still, the bruises... If he had been using makeup to create the bruises, leading her to believe that Corbin and the Vale brothers had beaten him half to death, the obvious question was why? And yet the speed at which his bruises had healed, had he really been beaten, was not humanly possible.
Was he somehow... involved in a plot with Corbin and the Vale brothers to pretend... But why? What had he hoped to accomplish?
Okay, so he had some explaining to do. But by the time she got dressed, she was willing to listen. Maybe the bruising had been to fool the Vale Brothers. Maybe he’d realized they were after him and so he’d applied the make up... or gotten away from them long enough to make them believe... She gave her head a shake. There was an explanation. She just couldn’t make sense of it without his help. So he would explain and then everything would be alright.
Well, not exactly everything. They would still have the issue of what to do. After all, Perry’s stance had not softened. And there was no way she’d be able to explain getting involved with Kent to his satisfaction. She didn’t even understand it herself, after all. Besides, there was her mother.**
“You’re mother?” Clark asked.
Lois simply shrugged, not understanding what that meant either, before returning to her story.
**So whether there could be anything long term between them was still very much an open question. But after last night, she might be willing to try to find a solution.
But before they even tackled those problems, there was the question of Kent’s supposed bruises.
She opened the door. The smell of coffee and frying bacon lured her to the kitchen. Kent was cooking breakfast?
Okay, she was impressed. She couldn’t even cook decent oatmeal. It seemed Kent had gone all out. Pancakes, bacon and eggs, juice and coffee. Her stomach grumbled. She immediately told her stomach that it could wait. First, he had some explaining to do.
She leaned against the counter and watched him as he moved stuff to the table. He moved with the grace of a large cat. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted down to the way his trousers stretched across his posterior as he placed a jug of juice in the middle of the table. She quickly jerked her eyes away. Now was not the time.
“Well?” she asked simply, hoping to get her mind back on the issue at hand and off his gorgeous physique and the unwelcome effect it was suddenly having on her body.
“Why don’t we have breakfast first?”
“Kent, this is your last chance to explain.”
“Explain?”
Lois raised an eyebrow. He knew damn well what she was talking about.
He squirmed uncomfortably.
“Fine!” she said, storming directly for the door.
How he managed to get between her and the door, she had no idea. But a moment later, she was running into his chest which was giving a very good impression of a brick wall. Tingling from every place she made contact, she quickly stepped back.
“Well?” she asked.
“Can’t a guy heal quickly without getting the third degree?”
“Not that quickly. Come on, admit it, Kent. I know you used some sort of makeup to create the illusion you had bruises. What I can’t figure out is why?”
“Okay, fine. I used some sort of makeup to create the bruises if that’s what you want to believe. As to why... I’m weird that way.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Fine!” she pushed past him.
“Don’t go,” he begged. “Please. Look, even as a kid, I healed quickly. I never knew why. If you want, we can call my folks. They’ll verify what I’m telling you.”
Lois studied him for a moment, her anger draining away. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe there was nothing nefarious going on here. Maybe she had leapt to conclusions. Maybe he was innocent... this time.
But... why had he looked so guilty when she’d first brought up the subject of his bruises in the first place? He was hiding something.
The instant she thought that, she knew that his guilt or innocence on this occasion wasn’t the question. The question was why she had jumped to the conclusions she had. Her mind flashed back to Perry’s comments about Kent when she’d told him about the tape of Lex, to the times Kent had blown her cover to prevent her from getting the story, even to what he’d done before they’d even met. She quickly pushed that last thought aside. She couldn’t think about that.**
“Before we’d even met? What does that mean?”
She shrugged before continuing her story.
**Regardless of whether he was telling the truth or not, the problem was that she didn’t really know him. And... as the events of this morning had proven oh so clearly, she didn’t trust him either. Not really. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be having all these doubts about whether or not he was telling her the truth, would she? Oh, she trusted him to keep her safe physically. But emotionally... she didn’t trust him.
And was there any possibility for a relationship where there was no trust? She’d been hurt too many times to get involved with a man without trust. And if she was going to truly trust a man again, it wouldn’t be Kent.
She reached out, laying a hand on his chest even as tears welled up in her eyes. She gave her head a slight shake. “Maybe I did jump to conclusions, Clark. And I am glad you’re okay. But... I just don’t think this...” She gestured between them. “...is going to work.”
“What?” Kent gasped.
“I’m sorry. I just... can’t do it.”
“Lane, listen...”
“No, Kent. I’m sorry, but... I can’t go through it again.” She bent down, and picked up her shoes before fleeing Kent’s apartment.**
“I remember that moment,” Clark said softly.
**Clark stood inside his apartment for a moment in stunned silence before his anger, his frustration, began to bubble to the surface. She still believed he was the one who had set her up. He’d tried, for months afterwards, to find a way to clear his name. He hadn’t even been in Metropolis at the time. He’d tried to tell her that, but she had refused to listen.
And in recent weeks, he’d started to think that maybe, just maybe, she had come to believe him. But her reactions this morning... they were too severe to be about just his bruises. She still thought he was guilty. Hadn’t he proven to her by now that he could never do such a thing to anyone, let alone her?
In his frustration, he struck out, putting his fist through the drywall of his apartment.**
“Clear your name? Hadn’t been in Metropolis? Clark?”
Clark shrugged.
Lois let out a slow breath. “I just wish we could remember.”
“So do I. But tell me something. Would it have helped if I had told you the whole story - about my powers?” Clark asked. “Maybe I should have told you everything. But it had been drilled into me for so long not to tell that...”
“I know that, Clark,” Lois responded, reaching over to stroke his arm. “In spite of my reaction earlier, I do know that. And I don’t know. Maybe... It might have made a difference if you had been able to trust me enough to tell me the truth. I guess that was our problem. We might have been drawn to each other, but, unlike in our reality where you worked really hard to build up that trust between us, here neither of us could really trust the other. And...”
“...what is a relationship without trust?” Clark concluded.
“Of course, then came the matter of explaining things to Lucy.”
“How did that go?”
**Lois was in the midst of preparing for work, using more makeup than usual to cover her tear-swollen eyes - an irony that was not lost on her - when there was a knock at the door. Her heart leapt - half of her hoping, although she knew she shouldn’t, that Kent was standing outside her door. That he had come to fight for her. That he had the magic solution to her trust issues with him.
Her heart fell when she saw her sister standing where Kent should have been. Sighing, she opened the door and walked back into her bedroom to finish getting ready.
“So...?” Lucy said, plopping down on her bed. “I tried calling you several times last night. You never came home.”
“I was taking care of Kent - you know, making sure he didn’t die of internal bleeding or something.”
“Right,” Lucy replied. “Just doing your usual Florence Nightingale act.”
Lois glanced over as a result of her sister’s deadpan tone.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re my sister. Of course it matters. I want to make sure he’s not a slimeball like Johnny.” Her sister’s lips turned down for a moment at the mention of her former boyfriend turned cyborg. Then, without warning, her expression brightened again. “Besides, if you’re willing to risk your job at the Daily Planet for a man, it must be serious.”
“I’m not willing to risk my job. And that’s why you’ve got to promise me you’ll never say anything to anyone about...”
“Would you relax, Lois? Do you really think I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut?”
Lois let out a breath. Just because she wasn’t exactly happy at the moment didn’t mean she should take it out on her sister. “Look, Luce, there’s nothing between Kent and me. Okay, I thought maybe, for a minute, that there might be, but... It’s not going to happen.”
Lucy sprung to her feet. “Do you want me to go and beat him up?” she asked, beginning to dance around as if she were a prize fighter in the ring. “Cause I will. No way Kent is a better boxer than me.”
Lois smiled at her sister’s antics, realizing at once what her sister was trying to do. “I appreciate it. But it’s probably not the safest thing to do.”
“Why not?” Lucy said, continuing to shadow box. “I bet I could take him - given how beaten up he was yesterday. Probably knock him out with a single good uppercut.” She swung her fist to demonstrate the maneuver.
Lois’ smile faded, remembering how quickly she’d jumped to crazy conclusions about Kent’s bruises.
“What?”
“Nothing. Look, let’s just forget about it. We both have horrible luck when it comes to men. Why don’t we just leave it at that?”
Lucy sank back down onto the side of the bed. “Sorry about Kent, sis.”
Lois smiled at her kid sister. “And I’m sorry about Corbin.”
Their eyes met for a moment of understanding before Lois turned back to her task of preparing for work.**
“Okay,” Lois said slowly, “that was interesting. I wondered how long it would be before the sexual tension between us in this screwed up reality would result in our ending up in bed together. Maybe having that itch scratched allowed both of us to move on.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No. Not really. But, Clark, considering that we already know that we don’t end up together in this altered reality, it might be for the best if we end this dancing around each other we seem to be doing. It can’t have been easy on either of us.”
Clark sighed.
“But regardless, none of this gets us any closer in finding a way to get Vicky back. So...”
“We keep going,” Clark said turning back to his computer.
The next half hour was spent mostly in silence as they continued to peruse their stories. It seemed Lois had broken the story about the laser that shot information into people’s eyes as well as breaking open the whole Harlan Black slave smuggling ring. Still, Lois neither gloated, nor did Clark begrudge her the victories. The memories of their ill-fated night together was still too fresh in both their minds to do anything but concentrate on their work.
“Wait a minute?” Lois said after a time. “Where’s the story about Lex rising from the dead and breaking Vale out of prison?”
“Luthor never died, Lois. So if he’s doing anything at the moment, he’s working on his own plan to break out of prison.”
“Hmph,” Lois said.
“Hey, I got the story about Diana Stride being an assassin for Intergang.”
Lois looked over at his screen. “Probably just as well. After all, if I recall correctly, Mayson’s source required a little bit of superhelp to stay alive.”
“Mayson,” Clark replied thoughtfully.
“What?” Lois asked carefully, reminding herself that whatever he was remembering wasn’t real - no matter how it felt.
“Well, the reason I ended up getting the story about Diana Stride was because of my... friendship with Mayson.”
“Okay, I can see that.” Her voice remained slow, measured. He really hadn’t said anything yet to get upset over.
“But...” He glanced at her before looking away. “...well, actually that was sort of the beginning of... me dating Mayson.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
