Lois turned the little metal key over between her fingers. It was just a key, right? And she was going to give it back the moment she saw him, so it was no big deal at all. After a long moment of internal debate, she pulled her purse out from under her desk and removed her brand new ring of replacement keys. Her old keys had been melted into a single undistinguishable lump in the blast. The only sensible place to put the key was on her key ring.
Lex had left the bullpen only ten minutes ago. He’d raced in dramatically, a look of concern on his face. “Lois, darling, are you all right?” he’d asked as he swept into the newsroom. He’d hurried down the steps to her desk, where she’d been reviewing the Fire Marshall’s report on her building. None of the other apartments had been affected, thankfully, so none of her neighbors had been hurt. Nevertheless, her apartment was without heat and she wasn’t in a hurry to return.
She’d assured Lex she was fine. In his typical, charming way, he’d offered her an apartment in one of his buildings. “I’m certain you’ll find the accommodations adequate,” he’d assured her suavely. “I know that there is no place like home, but I hope that you’ll find this place a suitable second.” He gave her his standard, dashing smile.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” she’d replied. “But I’ve been staying with a friend.”
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a place of your own? I have a security detail that will keep you completely protected, and you won’t even notice their presence.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Oh.” He’d seemed crestfallen by the fact that he wasn’t able to sweep in as the hero this time. He managed to recover with grace. “Well, the offer stands, of course, if you change your mind.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Lex.” With that, her billionaire would-be benefactor made his grand departure. His offer hadn’t been as off-putting this time. When the Nightfall Asteroid had threatened, Lex had offered her a lifeboat, but only as part of a quid pro quo. He’d attempted to put a subtle spin on it, but she knew exactly what he meant. He’d wanted to make her dependent on him for her survival; the helpless little woman he kept around because she was pleasurable company. This time, at least he hadn’t made any overt references to an expected exchange.
She sat back down and continued fiddling with the key Clark had left for her. He’d rushed out to the crime lab while she’d been on the phone with Henderson. On his way out, he’d dropped the key on her desk. She’d looked up at him, puzzled.
“Spare key to my apartment,” he’d explained. “If I’m not back by the time you want to head out, I’ll meet you at my place.”
He’d left nearly two hours ago and the newsroom was now almost empty. Lois tucked the keys back into her bag and powered down her computer. With a great deal more caution than she was accustomed to exercising, she headed out and hailed a cab. Nervously checking to make sure that no one was following her, she looked over her shoulder out the taxi’s rear windshield, but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
The cabbie dropped her off in front of Clark’s apartment and she fished out the keys. She opened the door to Clark’s place, as though it was a perfectly natural thing to do. Lois walked into the apartment. She hadn’t spent much time in Clark’s apartment when he wasn’t there, but it was still inviting and comfortable. Walking over to his mantle, she looked at the pictures and mementos he kept there. Pictures of his parents, his gameball, statuettes that she bet he’d acquired in exotic locales like Tanzania and Nepal. There was so much more to her partner than she’d originally imagined.
The door behind her opened and Clark entered, carrying bags of groceries. “I picked up some stuff for dinner. We usually have takeout, I thought cooking would be a nice change.”
“Well, you know I can’t cook,” she began.
“Not a problem, my pesto sauce is fool proof,” he said with a grin.
She hurried over to help him with the bags, but he waved her off. “I’ve got it,” he assured her. “Sorry it took me so long. Superman had to help out at a big accident in the Washington Tunnel; I figured I should get the story.”
“Was anyone hurt?” she asked as she followed him into the kitchen. He placed the grocery bags on the counter and she helped him unpack them.
“Nothing major,” Clark replied. He took off his jacket and his tie and tossed both of them over the back of a chair. He unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. “I uh, Superman had to rescue a few people, but no one was seriously injured. Any word from Henderson?”
Lois shook her head. “They’re still trying to match M.O.’s with people I’ve helped put in jail, put out of business, or whose lives I’ve otherwise ruined.”
“How’s that going?” he asked as he pulled a couple of pots out of a cabinet.
“It’s a longer list than I realized.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ll find the guy,” he said reassuringly as he filled a pot with water and placed it on the range.
“I wish I was as confident as you are,” she replied glumly as she unpacked the pine nuts and basil from the shopping bag.
Clark sidled up next to her and draped a reassuring arm around her. “Hey, we’re the best team in town, remember?” he asked as he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Are you always this irritatingly optimistic?” she asked, giving him a half smile.
He merely grinned in response. “Do you want to pick out a wine while I chop the basil?” She slipped out from under his arm and suddenly missed its solid weight on her shoulders. It felt oddly, indescribably *right* there. She shrugged off the feeling as the product of nothing more than anxiety and stress, and the growing sense of fear and loneliness inside her. There was nothing quite like standing at life’s precipice, looking down into the chasm of your own mortality and getting a good hard shove from behind, getting battered by the heat and concussive force of an explosion, to make you feel tiny and helpless. To make you feel like you’d never get your footing or your balance back again. To make you cling to the first solid and dependable thing in sight and to hold on indefinitely.
No, she wasn’t going to be small and weak, and she wasn’t going to cling. She wasn’t going to hang desperately on her partner, unable to let him go. She was going to put herself back together, pick herself up, dust herself off, and be Lois Lane again. She was going to start by finding the lousy scumbag trying to kill her and make sure that he spent some quality time as the guest of the government in a facility upstate. Actually, the first task in front of her seemed to be the selecting of a proper wine for dinner. Lois scanned his wine rack before settling on a pinot grigio. She dug around in the cabinets in search of an ice bucket.
All of the pots and pans and colanders and things she didn’t even recognize confirmed that Clark actually used his kitchen. By Metropolis standards, it was a huge kitchen, with plenty of cabinets and prep space. Her kitchen was largely a waste of space; an unused stove, mostly empty cabinets, and a fridge full of old Chinese food, condiments, and a produce drawer with wilted vegetables and fuzzy fruits. Even if she knew how to cook, she had very little free time and what she did have, she wouldn’t have spent cooking. Besides, why cook when you lived in a city with as many great takeout places as Metropolis had? Cooking for one didn’t make any sense, either. Of course, cooking with Clark was turning out to be more enjoyable than reheating leftover pizza. And, when you were making enough for two people, it didn’t seem like such a futile exercise. Besides, Clark actually seemed to know what he was doing, she mused as she watched him add the chopped basil to the food processor.
********
Lois stepped back away from the table. “This looks amazing,” she said as she looked at Clark’s handiwork. He uncorked the pinot grigio and poured generous amounts in each of the two wine glasses on the table. In typical Clark fashion, he held out her chair for her before taking his own seat directly across from her.
“Was everything okay at work after I left?” he asked, almost anxiously as he unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap.
“Yeah,” she replied absently. “Lex came by.” She watched as Clark’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. He took a sip of his wine, but said nothing. She looked down at her plate to avoid making eye contact. “He offered me a place to stay.”
“With him?” There was an edge to Clark’s voice.
“No, an apartment in one of his buildings,” she corrected him hastily. She looked up at him, but he was suddenly focused on the pasta in front of him.
“Oh,” he said as he lifted his gaze to make eye contact with her. “Did you…?” he ventured.
“I told him I had a place to stay,” she replied with a smile. “Well, until I wear out my welcome.”
“You could never do that,” he said, giving her the earnest, reassuring answer she wasn’t expecting in response to her bit of self-deprecation.
She gave him a somewhat tremulous smile, unsure why she felt so emotionally off-balance with him tonight. She had to admit, though, that the situation was unfamiliar to her. Most of the time when a guy expressed this level of concern, it just meant that he thought he could use it to his advantage, or that he reveled in being the big strong protector man, and she cared for neither the mind games, nor the condescending misogyny. But she knew that Clark’s concern was genuine and that he respected her. He didn’t treat her like she was helpless or dependent on him. No, he knew that she didn’t like being handled, that she could take care of herself, even though she very obviously needed a friend at that moment. Then again, they always said that in a crisis, you find out who your true friends are. There was no question that that was what Clark was. He was probably the best friend she’d ever had.
“Have you talked to your parents?” he asked.
‘Dammit, Clark, why did you have to go and step on that emotional landmine?’ she wondered. Although, it was through no real fault of his own. She’d never really explained why she and her father didn’t get along and he’d never even met her mother. “I called both of them today. The only thing they’ve agreed on in twenty years is that I should get out of Metropolis.”
Clark pulled a face. “Do they know you’re staying with me?”
She shook her head. “I told them the Planet was putting me up somewhere.” He looked almost wounded by the comment. “I know Henderson said the Planet phones were clean, but I didn’t want to take the chance. This guy already figured out how to get into my car and my apartment.”
He nodded in apparent understanding. “One of the detectives said they were still following up on the maintenance man who accessed your building. It’s the best lead they’ve got.”
“But it’s still not much,” she countered, suddenly feeling rather pessimistic. “It’s just so frustrating. We’re not supposed to just wait around for the bad guy to get caught. I want to *do* something. *Anything.*” she vented.
Reaching across the table, he placed his hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know,” he said softly. “But until we’ve got a lead to follow, the only thing that matters is keeping you safe.” A slight blush crept up his cheeks. “I’m sorry; I just realized how patronizing that sounded.”
“I know what you meant,” she replied. And she did. Coming from anyone else, she wouldn’t have tolerated the sentiment. But for whatever reason, Clark was different. Her almost dying twice in the last few days seemed to have shaken him up just as badly as it had her. “I just hate feeling helpless.”
He smiled faintly. “If there’s anything you could never be, Lois, it’s helpless.”
After they cleared the dishes, they settled into his living room to go through a stack of records and call logs. As she tried to figure out who came in and out of the Planet building the day of the explosion, Clark sifted through the prison visitor and phone logs, trying to piece together who that had a grudge against Lois could have arranged the hit on her apartment. Every once in a while, Lois found herself sneaking glances at her unassuming partner. He was fully engrossed in a sheaf of papers, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose and a lock of thick, dark hair spilling over his forehead.
She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. Clark glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up this late.”
She smiled at him, still amazed at how considerate and downright nice he was. “Considering you’re helping me find the person who’s trying to kill me, I’ll let it slide, Smallville,” she said. She wondered if he had any idea how much this meant to her. Not just his help, but everything he was doing to make her feel comfortable. To make her feel like she didn’t need to be afraid.
********
Lois lay back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling over Clark’s bed, examining the crumbly popcorn patterns of the plaster. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could pretend she’d fallen asleep in the two minutes since Clark had entered the bathroom. It would be much less awkward if she wasn’t awake when he slipped into bed. She heard the faucet in the bathroom shut off and the door opened. Too late. Clark padded into the bedroom, dressed for bed in an old, worn out t shirt and sleep shorts, but still wearing his glasses. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, in an irritatingly endearing gesture, causing a single lock of hair to fall over his forehead. Why did he have to look so boyishly cute? And when did she start thinking of Clark as cute?
He climbed into bed and turned onto his side toward her. She turned toward him, not leaving much space between them. He propped himself up on his elbow. “You know, you’re about the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said quietly. “You’re amazing, Lois.”
A blush crept over her. Why did he have to be so darn sweet? “Thank you, for everything,” she said. “For letting me stay here, for helping me find this guy.”
“That’s what partners do,” he replied simply.
She grinned and shook her head. “You’re going above and beyond the call here.”
“Hey, most guys wouldn’t think of spending quality time with a beautiful woman as a burden.”
He’d called her beautiful. He smiled, but said nothing to back away from his statement. He turned over and placed his glasses on the nightstand and turn off the bedside lamp, leaving them in darkness, except for the light filtering in through the curtains from the neon sign hanging over the diner across the street. “Goodnight, Lois,” he said softly as he rolled back onto his side. She could see the outline of his face in the darkness, so close to hers.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Her eyes, adjusting to the dark, focused on his lips. And then she did something remarkably stupid. Her heart thundering in her chest, beating hard against her ribs, she pressed her lips against his, ever so briefly. She lay her head back on her pillow. “Goodnight, Clark,” she whispered.
********
He blinked several times, resisting the urge to touch his mouth where she’d just kissed him.
Lois had kissed him.
He’d been so surprised—so taken aback—that he’d frozen, incapable of responding. It was the briefest peck of a kiss, almost platonic, really. But it was something, wasn’t it? Lois had kissed him. He closed his eyes, his heart racing. Lois had actually kissed him.
********
The first rays of light filtering into the room through the window woke her. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, momentarily startled when she realized she wasn’t alone. Clark was still asleep, his head on his pillow, so close to hers. The corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smile.
“Hey,” he whispered, revealing the fact that he was awake. Without opening his eyes, he reached for his glasses. He put on his glasses as his grin grew wider.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
“Morning,” he replied, rolling to prop himself up on his elbow. “Sleep well?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. In fact, she’d slept great. “Do you want the bathroom first?”
“It’s all yours,” he offered graciously. “I’ll see what I can do about breakfast.” Still smiling, he got out of bed, padding toward the kitchen.
Lois mentally shook herself when she realized she was watching him as he walked away. Well, he was pretty cute, she had to admit. All muscles and boyish smiles. And warm, dark, gentle eyes. What was she doing? She didn’t think of her partner like that. But then again, she had kissed him last night…
“Bagels okay?” he called out from the kitchen.
“Huh?” Oh, right. Breakfast. “Sure,” she replied. Lois stood and stretched as she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Hopefully a shower would clear her head.
********
“Delivery for Lois Lane,” the messenger called out from the elevator bank.
From the other side of the newsroom, Clark watched as Lois turned toward the deliveryman. His stomach twisted itself in knots as he ducked into a supply closet. Bursting out a sliver of a moment later, he tore across the newsroom in a blue and red blur, snatching the package from the hands of the terrified deliveryman. He flew out one of the enormous windows and straight up into the sky. Carefully, he examined the plain, brown paper wrapped package. The name and address were written out neatly and carefully. Unsurprisingly, there was no return address. He x rayed the contents of the package, committing to memory the layout, design, and materials of the small explosive inside. He looked at it from every angle, studying how the triggering mechanism was designed to go off once the package was opened. Satisfied that he understood the device, he removed the wrapping paper to save the hand written address and crushed the package in his hands, containing the blast.
Superman flew back into the newsroom only seconds after he’d first appeared. He frowned sternly as he marched up to the still stunned messenger and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket hoisting him into the air.
“What’d I do?” the frightened man exclaimed, his voice cracking.
“Who gave you that package?” Superman demanded. “Answer me!” he barked when the messenger took too long to respond.
“Look, I just make deliveries for LexExpress,” the nervous man replied, his feet dangling above the ground. “The package was marked hand delivery, so I brought it up here. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what was in it.”
“Superman, it’s okay,” he heard Lois say. He glanced at her, standing just behind him, looking ashen. He lowered the deliveryman back to his feet but didn’t let him go. Turning to Perry, who’d come out of his office demanding to know what was going on, he said, “Mr. White, could you have security hold on to him? I need to speak with Inspector Henderson.”
“Sure thing, Superman,” Perry replied. “Jimmy! Get security up here right now,” the editor bellowed.
Clark figured the messenger was probably telling the truth, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. Once the security guards had detained the messenger, he took off for One Police Plaza. He wanted to work with the bomb squad while the design of the device was freshest in his mind.
********
The sharp “boom” of the explosion nearly caused her to leap out of her skin. She felt Clark’s hand on the small of her back and relaxed slightly, almost as though he was able to drain the tension from her body. He’d called her from the police department, telling her that he’d stopped by to see if there was any news when he’d run into Superman.
“Sorry!” someone called from the other end of the massive forensics lab.
“Dammit, Diaz, can you lay off on blowing things up for just ten minutes?” Henderson snapped back irritably. It was the most ruffled Lois had ever seen the normally staid inspector.
“The problem is, our bomber has no real M.O.,” the detective continued.
“You mean you can’t match it to anyone?” Clark asked.
“No, I mean, there’s nothing unique at all about this bomb, either. It’s almost like he picked the most generic trigger, explosive, and design he could think of. Normally when we see that, it’s on the crude devices of a novice. But this guy knows what he’s doing. The bomb was simple, no bells, no whistles, but it was made carefully, by an expert.”
Lois wondered idly how they could figure out so much about something that had blown itself up. “So where does that leave us?” She rubbed at her wrist absent-mindedly. She’d taken the brace off that morning. Her wrist was still a little tender, but trying to type with that damn thing was next to impossible.
“Without much to go on, I’m afraid,” Henderson replied. “There are a couple of people with explosives skills who are probably nursing a heck of a grudge against you, Lane, but they have very particular M.O.s. Bombers consider their devices to be works of art. None of the guys out to get you who are sophisticated enough to pull this off would have used this design. And this style of bomb doesn’t look anything like the stuff made by the guns for hire we know are active in the country.”
“So I might have a brand new arch nemesis out to kill me,” she said darkly.
“What about the packaging?” Clark asked. “You mentioned that Superman brought it with him.”
Henderson frowned again. “Block printing on the address, so it’ll be hard to match to handwriting. Nothing else that was unique or unusual. We’ll check the routing label and see where he sent it from and when. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he dropped it off in person.”
“How about the repairman at Lois’s building?” Clark ventured.
“The work order itself was real – the right stationery from the building management company and the right carbon copy from a legit contractor, but everything else was bogus. There was no request for maintenance and no one employed at the contractor whose name matches the one on the work order.”
“How’d he get in the building?” she asked.
“Your doorman let him in,” Henderson replied. “He asked for the guy’s ID, and asked to see the work order, before letting him inside. He had all the right paper, Lois.”
She nodded and said nothing. Henderson continued. “The guy either knew the doorman was new on the job, or he just got lucky.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Lois said flatly. “Which means he’s careful and thorough.” It was hardly much to work with.
********
They sat in total silence on the cab ride back to Clark’s place from One Police Plaza. His warm, large hand covering her much smaller one was a reassuring presence, but his expression was unreadable. Their meeting with Henderson had been disappointing. On the plus side, they’d managed to cross some of the suspects off the list, but they didn’t have any promising leads. She’d felt completely deflated when Henderson confirmed that the trail was cold. He’d tried to convince her not to be discouraged, but she couldn’t help but feel powerless and vulnerable. As they sat and listened to Henderson rattle off the details of the investigation, Clark had surreptitiously taken her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She couldn’t have been more grateful for his support. It was probably the only thing that kept her from losing hope.
She wasn’t used to being this helpless, but they had almost nothing to work with. All they knew was that the attempted hits on her apartment, her car, and the Planet had been arranged by a pro.
Lois looked up at Clark. The tiny muscle in his jaw was twitching, the way it always did when he was tense. He turned to look at her and the stern look on his face melted away. His lips turned up in a gentle smile that reached his warm, brown eyes. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We’ll go through every source we have,” he said. “Nobody pulls off something like this without other people knowing what’s going on.”
She knew he was right. Their more unsavory sources were plugged deeply into Metropolis’s criminal network. Someone would have to know something.
********
“Yeah, I know where to find you,” she said as she hung up. “Tiny Jim will meet with us tomorrow.”
“You think he knows something?”
“Hard to say,” she replied with a frown. “He seemed pretty cagey.” She put the phone on the coffee table and flopped down on the couch.”
“That’s a good sign. Tiny Jim’s always cagey when he knows something he shouldn’t.” Tiny Jim was originally Clark’s source. The guy seemed to like talking to Lois more than Clark, however. It wasn’t hard for Clark to figure out why. He loosened his tie. “Why don’t I get us some dinner; how does Chinese sound?”
“Great,” she replied. “You finally going to tell me where it is you get that amazing takeout?”
“Hey, a guy’s gotta have some secrets,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be back soon.”
In the alley behind his apartment, he took off, flying high over his city. He didn’t like leaving her, even if it was just for a few minutes. If she knew how much he worried about her, she’d bristle. But this time it was different. This guy was giving them nothing to work with. For all his powers, he had no idea how to solve this. He shook his head ruefully. They had to catch this guy. Even though spending practically twenty four hours a day with Lois made it much easier to keep her safe, he knew how off-balance this whole thing was making her feel. She hated being afraid. She hated feeling like she wasn’t in control.
********
She’d been unusually quiet during dinner. He could tell that the near misses and investigation were starting to wear on her. Frankly, it was impressive how she’d been able to carry on almost like this was some ordinary story. But then again, Lois was never one to just wait around for someone else to come to the rescue. Half the time, she managed to do her own rescuing. The other half, however, typically required the help of Superman. Or at least the National Guard.
She’d suggested turning in early and much though he wanted to join her, it wouldn’t have done any good for his sense of equilibrium. He loved having her around, though he would have much preferred it if it wasn’t because someone was trying to kill her. But having her so close by made it harder and harder to pretend he wasn’t in love with her. She seemed to seek out the small gestures of support and friendship he’d been eager to provide, but he knew that being the target of three well planned assassination attempts was the real reason for that. If she let him hug her just a little more often and for a little longer than usual, it wasn’t because she wanted any more from their relationship than friendship. His brain knew that, but the heart had a way of hoping against hope.
A few hours after she’d gone to bed, he decided to call it a night himself. He turned off the bathroom light and walked softly across the bedroom, hoping not to wake her. He waited for a brief moment at the edge of the bed, just watching her sleep. Lying on her side, her dark hair fanned out over the pillow, she seemed so peaceful. Clark turned down the corner of the covers on his side of the bed, but though he tried to do so gently, he managed to wake her. Her eyes flew open with a start.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She smiled, looking relieved, and propped herself up on one elbow. He could hear her heart racing, the pulse point on her neck fluttered and throbbed almost imperceptibly against the fair, delicate skin, but it had already begun to slow down. “What time is it?” she asked, still a bit sleepy. He tried not to gaze for too long at the way her gray tank top molded itself to the curves of her slender body.
“Almost twelve,” he replied. He turned away from her as he took off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed and lay down, rolling to lie on his side, facing her. “Goodnight, Lois,” he whispered. She lay so close to him that he had to will his hand not to reach out and brush away the soft tendrils of dark hair that spilled over her face.
“Goodnight,” she said softly, closing her eyes. For a long moment, neither one moved or even breathed. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but knowing that wasn’t exactly how it worked.
With his eyes closed, he didn’t watch her lean closer to him, he felt it. He had only a brief moment before her lips touched his, the span of a single heartbeat to figure out what he was going to do. He could remain impassive again, just like he had the previous night. It would be the safe thing to do. The prudent thing to do. He felt her lips brush gently against his.
And he kissed her back. She froze, but only for a moment. Before he had a chance to regret what he’d done, her arms slipped around his neck and her lips parted underneath his. He groaned and threaded a hand in her hair. Dazed, deliriously so, he didn’t notice the long minutes pass. The only thing he was aware of was Lois, in his arms, kissing him, moaning softly, and threatening to drive him completely insane. She pressed the length of her body against his as he rolled onto his back. His hands settled at her sides as her fingers buried themselves in his hair. She tore her lips from his to trail kisses along his jaw and up to his ear. He felt the breath escape him in a sharp gasp as she captured his earlobe between her lips.
She had him pinned to the bed under her slight weight. Even though it should have required no effort whatsoever for him to free himself, he was pretty sure at that moment that he couldn’t have done so even if he wanted to. And he certainly didn’t want to. His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer as her lips found his again. He was wrapped up in her, in the sweet, vanilla scent of her skin, the sound of her breath catching in her throat, and the shower of sparks that seemed to rain from her fingertips, sending jolts of pleasure skittering across his skin everywhere she touched him. Her hands wandered down to the hem of his t shirt and were soon trailing over the skin of his stomach. He felt his muscles tighten reflexively under her touch. A shiver ran down his body as he tried not to laugh. He wasn’t supposed to be ticklish. He was invulnerable, for goodness’ sake! She raked her fingernails gently against his sides in the most maddening way possible, obviously looking to exploit his newfound weakness.
Eager to put an end to the assault, he did the first thing that came to mind. He rolled over, pinning her to the bed this time, though he kept his weight propped up on his arms. She looked up at him defiantly with passion darkened eyes and pulled him back down toward her. She kissed him hungrily, her hands once again embarking on their own journey. They slipped under the soft, worn cotton of his t shirt and started to pull it upward, exposing more of his skin. He grabbed the t shirt in his own hands and quickly tugged it up over his head. He threw it carelessly to the floor. One fewer barrier between them. He touched her cheek gently, avoiding the angry red abrasions that marred her skin. He turned his attention back to the most important thing in the world at that moment. Kissing Lois.
She kissed him back just as eagerly, moaning into his mouth. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, his pulse thundering in his ears. He broke off the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. The gauzy haze of passion surrounding his mind started to clear slightly. “What are we doing?” he murmured breathlessly. Part of him regretted the words before they’d passed his lips, but he needed to know that this was what Lois wanted.
“Clark, just kiss me,” she whispered. That he could do. No problem.
Her hands trailed up and down his back, sending shivers across his spine. She whimpered a soft protest as their lips parted. The whimper became a sigh as he began to trail a line of open mouthed kisses down her neck to the warm hollow at the base of her throat. He could feel her pulse pounding under his lips. He couldn’t help the slightly self-satisfied smile that turned up the corners of his mouth at the thought that he was having the same effect on her that she had on him. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as she murmured his name. Hearing her whisper his name so breathlessly, her voice low and thick with desire, was the most powerful aphrodisiac he’d ever known.
Rolling onto his side to lie beside her, Clark drew one hand slowly down her side to rest at the curve of her hip, his thumb stroking a small path along the hem of her tank top. He lifted his head to look at her. She touched his face, letting a finger trace the outlines of his lips. He kissed the pad of her finger softly. The expression on her face was unreadable, her eyes dark and almost mischievous. She held his gaze, intent on studying him. Her other hand rested on his forearm, her fingers, drawing absent patterns softly over his skin, were distracting. The temptation to surrender himself to her ministrations and the extraordinary feelings she was managing to evoke in him was tremendous. But this was moving faster than he ever thought it would. He had to know if this was right. He swallowed roughly. “Is this what you want? I mean, we don’t have to…I know this has been a really awful week and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
“I want this,” she insisted. “I want you.” She framed his face with her hands and pulled him back down to kiss him. “I want you, Clark,” she whispered in his ear. Clark let out a breath he didn’t realized he’d been holding in, relieved and thrilled by her words.
He captured her lips and kissed her fiercely. “God Lois, I want you so badly,” he breathed. “I always have.”
********
Did he really mean that? Had he always wanted her? No, it was just one of those things guys said, she thought distractedly, as he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, sending a delightful shiver through her. Part of the act, obviously. Sweet nothings murmured in the dark in a well planned seduction…No wait, that wasn’t fair. Clark hadn’t set out to seduce her.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. She wasn’t sure how he could say that with a straight face, given the mess of scrapes and bruises she was sporting. He pushed aside the thin strap of her tank top and kissed the bare skin of her shoulder. The hand resting on her hip began to stir. It slipped under the hem of her shirt to gently stroke the skin of her stomach. His touch was so reverent and undemanding. Her experiences weren’t all that extensive, but she had never been with a man like Clark before. She’d come to assume that all men were the same in bed – they were too focused on getting what they wanted to notice or care about their partner’s feelings.
Clark’s hand traveled slowly up her side, almost hesitantly. He looked at her, the question clear in his eyes. She merely nodded in response, before arching her back upward, allowing him to slip the tank top up higher. Lois crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of the shirt, pulling it up over her head before discarding it somewhere in the darkness. Silently, he simply looked her, as though he was transfixed. It was strange, but she didn’t feel self-conscious. She didn’t shrink from his gaze. But she saw him wince and realized that the large, fading bruise on her side had caught his attention. A sudden sense of vulnerability cascaded over her. He was probably disgusted.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered.
She tried to will away the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. “I know with the bruises I’m not much to look at…” she began, her voice fragile and thin.
“Lois.” Her name seemed to escape his lips in a shocked gasp. “God, you are so beautiful,” he insisted. “I just…how could I have been so stupid to forget that you’re hurt? If I made it worse…”
“You won’t,” she assured him, the hesitation and fear now gone. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Honestly, I forgot it was still there. I’m fine, Clark.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, his tone anxious and nervous.
“I’m sure,” she promised him. She drew him back into her arms, relishing the feeling of his warm, soft skin against hers. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the sweetest smile on his face. Clark was very quickly becoming the best lover she had ever had. There wasn’t really a question anymore; they were going to do this. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? The feeling of his lips against hers provided the answer in short order. It was. She could feel her pulse thundering in her ears, her entire body flushed with warmth.
Lois let her hands wander over the wonderfully muscled planes of his shoulders and back. For as long as she’d known her partner, she’d known that he was possessed of the most beautiful body, perfectly sculpted as though it had been carved from a piece of marble. She still didn’t know how he did it – he ate nothing but junk food half the time and still managed to have a body that really should have been criminal. She was suddenly less inclined to feel any irritation toward the peculiar mix of metabolism, genetics, free time spent in the gym, and just plain luck that gave Clark a physique that she could have happily spent the rest of her life admiring.
He ran one hand down the length of her arm to take her hand in his, entwining their fingers. Their lips parted and their eyes met. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you,” he whispered.
********
He felt her body go rigid underneath him. And suddenly, she was scrambling to get away from him. Clark didn’t resist at all, quickly rolling away to allow her to move. He practically jumped back as though he’d been burned, and emotionally he had been. She pulled the sheets up around herself and leaned against the headboard on the opposite side of the bed, as far away from him as she could possibly be while still in the bed. She looked at him somewhat warily, like a trapped animal, deciding whether to fight or flee. He scrubbed an agitated hand through his hair and sighed, feeling a tightness in his chest that made him think his heart was going to burst, or perhaps just break.
“Lois, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, not looking up, not able stand the anger and accusations he knew he’d find in her eyes.
“Why did you say that?” she demanded, trying to keep her tone even, but he could hear the tears in her voice.
“Because I do,” he replied simply. He reached out to put a hand on hers, but she pulled back and his heart was shredded to ribbons.
“Don’t say it, Clark. Not you,” she warned.
“Is it that terrible?” he asked, knowing he was doing a poor job of hiding the hurt in his voice.
“Look, I know it’s something guys say even though they don’t mean it, but not you. Because when you say something like that, you have to know that I’m going to want to believe it.”
“And I want you to,” he replied earnestly. His only hope was to lay everything on the line. He might have already screwed everything up irredeemably, but he still had to try. “Because it is true, it always has been. And it’ll be true tomorrow morning. Lois, I didn’t say ‘I love you’ because I’m trying to seduce you. I mean…I’m pretty sure we were going to well…you know…” he felt a blush creep up his face. “If I hadn’t said it. If anything, I think it looks like I’ve just sort of made things worse for myself.” He hoped the self deprecation would work. Maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to take the shot at him if he took it first.
The expression on her face suddenly softened and he realized he was wrong to assume that she was going to kick him when he was down. This wasn’t about him. It had nothing to do with him. It was about Lois, about the fact that she still wasn’t certain she could trust him, at least not with her heart. “Why?” she asked simply.
How could she not know? She had to know how brilliant and gorgeous she was. How any guy in his right mind would want her. And how, after working with her for months and seeing what a wonderful person she was, her partner couldn’t help but fall in love with her. Lois had always seemed self assured – she knew she was the best and she was way too observant not to notice that men found her incredibly attractive. No, she’d used her beauty to her advantage on occasion to land an elusive interview or infiltrate some criminal scheme, making Clark more than a little jealous and worried for her safety.
But there was apparently a big difference in knowing you were wanted and knowing you were loved. His heart seemed to break all over again and a sudden anger came over him, anger directed toward whoever had made her wonder if she could be loved for who she was. She looked at him warily and he realized that again, he was probably doing a rather poor job of hiding his feelings. “Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” he asked. She looked downward, avoiding his gaze. “You are the most incredible person I’ve ever known. You’re brilliant, and passionate, and loyal, and caring, and stubborn…” She frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t allow her to. “But that works for you since you’re almost always right. And you know it doesn’t hurt that you’re a total knockout.”
She gave him a slight, half smile as she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in an endearing gesture he’d come to love. “Clark, I can’t, I mean, I’m not ready…” She looked away as she trailed off.
“I know,” he responded softly. Hesitantly, he reached out again and she let him take her hand in his. “And it’s okay; I don’t expect you to say it back, at least, not now. I hope eventually… but not before you’re ready.”
“You really mean it, don’t you?” she asked, her tone incredulous. She kept looking downward, not making eye contact with him. With one hand, she clutched the bed sheets to her body.
It stung to know that she found it so difficult to believe him. “I love you, Lois. You’re all I ever think about. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. And I don’t just want some one night stand with you. I want more.”
“This is just so much,” she began.
“To much?” he asked. “It’s all moving too fast, isn’t it? I’ll go sleep on the couch. We can talk about this in the morning.” He started to get up, but she held tightly to his hand.
“Don’t go,” she said simply. His heart suddenly lightened. “It’s not too much.”
He drew in a deep breath. “You have to know how much I want this, how I’ve dreamt about this, but I don’t want us to do anything you’re not ready for. I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” He looked down, ready to insist that he go sleep on the couch.
“Clark.” His eyes met hers. “I want more, too. With you.” He felt his heart stop. She wasn’t making any promises, but he understood that he’d asked her to trust him fully, knowing how hard it was for her to do that. And she was taking a huge leap of faith with him. She let the sheet fall away as she moved toward him, allowing him to draw her into his arms. He smiled as he pulled her close, falling back against the pillows with the most wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, and vivacious woman in the world following willingly in his arms. He could feel her smile against his lips. Kisses grew more passionate. Caresses less hesitant. Limbs tangled and their remaining clothes were quickly discarded. His head buried against her neck, he breathed in the scent of her. Clark’s heart thundered in his ears, the only thought in his mind was the fact that making love to Lois was so much better than he could have ever imagined.
Exhausted, sated, and happier than he could remember being, Clark felt himself succumbing to a deep sleep. Lois was already sleeping, her head pillowed on his chest, and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Drowsily, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head before finally drifting off.
