A knock sounded on his door, interrupting the flow of his thoughts. Turning, Clark looked through the door, and his heart leapt.
It was Lois.
He opened the door, aware he probably looked like his dreary world had just turned to sunshine. "Hi, Lois," he said brightly.
"Hi, Clark," she said. "What are you doing?"
"Ah ... actually, I was washing my dishes."
"How exciting," she teased. "Do you have other, equally fascinating plans for this morning?"
Clark chuckled. He loved everything about being with Lois, but he particularly loved how she made him feel so good. So normal. So acceptable. "No," he admitted.
"Beauty," Lois said. "Are you ready? Let's go!"
She'd single-handedly rotated his day one hundred and eighty degrees. "Where are we going?" he asked, knowing he was grinning broadly.
"It's a surprise," she told him.
"You're not going to tell me?"
"Nope. Just get in the car, and you'll know when we get there."
There was nothing Clark would rather do. "Give me one moment," he said, wanting to run a comb through his hair and splash on some cologne.
Lois grinned. "I'll wait in the Jeep."
Part 18
Soon, they were on a big freeway heading east. "You still won't tell me where we're going?" Clark asked. In truth, it mattered not a bit. He was with Lois and she was happy - that was all he needed to feel fantastic.
"Ringwood," Lois said. "A suburb in the east."
"Why?"
"I'm not going to tell you," Lois said with a smile that somersaulted his heart.
"Any hints?" he asked. "Does it have anything to do with the game this afternoon?"
"Not exactly."
Clark looked at Lois and couldn't hold back his smile. Clearly, she was revelling in the intrigue. The 'I-have-a-secret' grin on her face was adorable. "More football practice?" he probed.
"No." She laughed, clearly enjoying his curiosity. "Did you bring your mouth guard? For the game?"
"I don't have one."
"No worries. We can stop at a chemist and get one."
"I ... ah ... I don't think I'll need one."
"They're a good idea." She grinned across at him. "Wouldn't want to risk damaging that smile of yours."
"Ah ... do I have to wear one?"
"No," she said easily. "Not everyone does. It's your choice."
He decided it would be best to get away from the subject of why he didn't need a mouth guard. "Any more hints about what we're doing?"
"Well, I thought you could use something to take your mind off the game."
"OK," he said, his curiosity growing with every moment. "What?"
"Patience, Kent," she told him. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
He looked out of the window. There was little to see but the treetops poking over the edge of the concrete freeway barriers. "The view isn't all that spectacular," he noted.
She laughed but didn't respond. Clearly, she wasn't going to give him any further details, so he might as well change the subject. To what? 'Lois' worked for him.
"I've been thinking about how you chose to stay here despite all of your family being back in the States," he said. "That was a brave move."
Lois shrugged. "Decide what you want, consider all the ramifications, and, if it still seems good, go for it," she said nonchalantly.
"Do you have what you want?"
"Mostly," she said. "I have my dream job. I work hard at something I love. I have a small but very supportive group of friends. I have Ron and Barb and Seb who are like family to me. I earn enough to visit my folks every year. And I have Hawthorn."
They pulled off the freeway and onto a wide, busy road.
"What about you, Clark?" Lois asked. "Have you got what you want?"
The whole of his life he had wondered if he would ever find the belonging that his heart craved. Now he had found it - with Lois. And what he wanted was simple - he wanted her ... to be with her, to love her, to share everything with her. "I have a great life," he said. "Loving parents, a place I can always go home to, a good job ... and three months in a new country meeting new friends."
Lois pulled into a small alley and parked outside a large, dingy building.
Clark peered out of the window of the Jeep. "This is it?" he asked.
Lois nodded. "I think so. I haven't been here before, but this is the right address."
Clark followed Lois through the door and into the building. To his surprise, it housed a skating rink.
Lois turned to him. Her 'I've-got-a-secret' smile had transformed into overt excitement at the unveiling of her surprise. "Can you skate on ice?" she asked.
"Yes, of course."
Lois snorted. "Of course," she mimicked. "Most Aussie kids can't ice skate. This is the only ice rink in Melbourne."
Clark surveyed the rink. It was dilapidated and rundown, but the ice looked solid enough. There was no one to be seen - neither on the ice, nor beyond its boundaries. "Can you skate?" he asked Lois.
"I did a bit when I was a very young kid," Lois answered with a smile. "I'm hoping you can give me a refresher course."
Suddenly, the dank and dreary appearance of the rink didn't matter in the least. Lois's smile more than compensated. "Can we rent some skates?" Clark asked.
"Sure." Lois headed to the unmanned counter and banged on the bench. "Hello?"
A lean man in his sixties trudged from the back room. "Yeah?" he said.
"Two for the ice rink, please," Lois said. "Plus skate hire." She took her purse from her bag.
Clark laid his hand on her arm. "No," he said. "I'll pay."
"You can either pay for the skating or for lunch," Lois said. "Not both."
Clark didn't know what the skating would cost but thought it was likely to be more than lunch. "Skating," he said.
"OK," Lois said as she put her purse back in her bag.
Ten minutes later, they were at the edge of the rink. To Clark's surprise, his rental skates were good quality and well-fitting.
"All right, Mr USA," Lois said. "Show me how it's done."
Clark slid easily onto the ice. He skated away and then spun so he was gliding backwards and could still see Lois. He switched to forward movement again and gathered speed for a wide turn. This felt good - familiar, easy. A volcano of wonderful feelings erupted inside him.
He was in love. Totally in love.
And it felt better than flying.
He glanced at Lois. There wasn't a woman in the world like her. Today, he promised himself. Today, he would ask her for a date. He whirled back to her and came to a smooth stop a foot from where she waited at the edge of the rink.
She greeted him with a wide smile. "You didn't say you were *incredible* at this."
"I've skated every winter I can remember," he said.
"I figured that."
"You did?"
"Yeah." Lois shrugged and glanced down. "I thought that if you had to spend the afternoon doing something very foreign to you, it would be nice if you spent the morning doing something you were more familiar with."
Clark's heart melted again. If he'd had any doubts regarding how he felt about this woman, they were swept away forever. And surely ... surely, this *had* to mean she felt something for him. Surely. He reached for her and gently lifted her chin so their eyes met. He lingered for half a second and then lowered his hand. "Aww ... Lois," he said softly. "Thank you."
"No worries," Lois said casually. "I think I'm either going to have to stay anchored to the railing or hold your hand. Do you mind?"
Clark only just managed to contain his snort. *Mind*? He took her hand and helped her onto the ice.
Together, they skated slowly into the centre of the rink. Clark looked sideways at Lois. "Are you OK?"
She nodded. "Just keep holding my hand."
Forever, he thought.
With Clark's encouragement and advice and steadying hand, Lois's long-dormant skills and confidence quickly returned.
"I'm fine now," she said after twenty minutes. "I want you to have fun - and that's not going to happen if you're hampered by going at my pace."
"Lois ... I *like* being with you."
She chuckled. "Clark ... we'll still be on the same rink."
He sped away from her and then executed a swift turn and smoothly glided past Lois. He missed her by at least a foot, but she squealed softly as he shot by.
He turned and came back to her, more sedately this time. "Are you all right?" he asked, grinning.
"That wasn't nice, Kent," she said. Her attempts to look annoyed were destroyed completely by her breezy grin.
Clark lifted his hands in innocence. "What?" he asked.
She raised her hand and pointed her forefinger at him. "Coming so close to me at that speed," she said.
"Were you worried I would sweep you off your feet?" he asked.
She looked taken aback - but only for a second. "Like I swept you off your feet when we played footy?" she shot back.
Clark grinned. "Well, the tables have been turned somewhat," he said. "Right now, I'm the one in familiar territory."
"Should I be worried?" she asked. She didn't look worried at all.
Clark held out his hand and waited for her to take it. When her hand was firmly in his, he vowed, "I won't ever let you get hurt."
Maybe she understood his deeper meaning, because Clark thought he felt her squeeze his hand.
They skated for nearly two hours - in that time, no one else joined them on the rink.
"This place doesn't seem to do much business," Clark said.
"I didn't know it was here," Lois said. "I asked around, and everyone said there hadn't been an ice rink in Melbourne since St Moritz closed in 1981. Finally, Browny remembered that his cousin's daughter had done some ice skating in Ringwood, and I found this place."
Clark gently squeezed her hand. "Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome," Lois said. Then she burst into a grin. "See? I remember how to speak American."
"Can you still do an American accent?"
"Hi, there," Lois drawled. "Howdy. Welcome to Melborn. How're your folks?"
Clark laughed. "You still have it," he said.
"Yeah," Lois said. "I tried so hard to fit in here, and my accent set me apart so ... it had to go. But anything Australian annoys my mom, so whenever I see her, I'm an all-American girl again."
"I've heard some people who still have their accents after thirty years of being in a new country."
"It wasn't easy," Lois said. "But I've always had an ear for detail, so I just copied the people around me. Firstly, I got rid of words like faucet and elevator and sidewalk and added in some fair dinkum Aussie words and phrases. Then I worked on the sounds."
"So on my first day, you knew exactly what I was facing?"
"Sort of," Lois said. "I had no idea what you'd want, so all I could do was tell you what I wished someone had told me when I first arrived. Of course, it was possible that you didn't mind being different - perhaps you even liked it, but I tried to give you the choice to blend in if that made you more comfortable."
"I can't imagine a nicer welcome," he said.
"You probably didn't need such an intensive course in being an Aussie," Lois said. "You seemed to adapt without too many problems."
Adapting had been a continuing theme in his life.
Lois glanced to the clock on the wall. "We should go," she said. "Toggy will kill me if I get you back late for the game."
They skated to the opening, and Clark held Lois's hand until she was safely off the ice. They sat down and began to remove their skates.
"You did really well, Lois," Clark said. "You didn't fall over once."
"I came close," she said. "I'm sure I nearly pulled your arm from its socket at least once."
"I'm not sure that would be possible," Clark said with a smile.
"What about the time I got up some speed and couldn't stop and nearly rammed you into the barrier?"
Clark smiled. "I was glad to be able cushion your crash," he said.
"You're not much of a cushion," she said.
"I'm not?"
She smiled. "Not soft enough."
"Oh." He thought that was probably a compliment.
They returned their skates to the counter and walked outside. Heavy rain poured from dark clouds.
"Looks like we're not eating outside," Lois commented. She rubbed her hands together. "It's freezing out here."
Actually, it was probably ten degrees from freezing, but Clark wasn't about to mention that. "Do you have plans for lunch?" he asked.
Lois shook her head. "No. I don't come to Ringwood much. But White Horse Road is only a block away, and I'm sure there will be a cafe or something there. I just want somewhere warm."
They sprinted to the main road and found a cafe with a deliciously tempting menu. From outside, they could see an open log fire crackling an undeniable welcome. They went in, and Lois warmed her hands by the fire. When the waitress came, they sat at a nearby table, and she gave them their menus.
Clark scanned it. The steak sandwich looked good. "Lois?"
"Yes?"
"What does 'with the lot' mean? I've seen it quite a bit, but I'm not sure exactly what I'll get if I order something with the lot."
"You can have a steak sandwich and choose what else goes in it ... like lettuce or tomato or onion or cheese. Or you can have 'the lot', and you'll get all their options."
"Sounds good," Clark said. When the waitress came over, he ordered a steak sandwich with the lot.
Lois ordered the minestrone soup with a sesame seed roll.
When the waitress had gone, Clark said, "This is great. In fact, the whole day has been amazing." Thanks to you, he thought. "Thanks to you," he vocalised, smiling softly at her.
Lois smiled back. "I hope the weather clears for the game today," she said. "It might, because the weather usually comes from the west, so they've already had this rain."
"What if it doesn't clear?"
"We get wet," Lois said easily. She grinned suddenly. "If it's been raining over in the north-west, you will get wet *and* muddy."
"Oh."
"Don't worry," she said. "The game's at Windy Hill. That's Essendon's home ground. They probably have showers in the change rooms."
"Probably?"
Her grin flashed. "*Cold* showers."
"No one mentioned that when I was forced into playing this game," Clark said, pretending to look aggrieved.
"You'll survive," Lois said unsympathetically. "You stuck your feet into Corio Bay, and they didn't even turn blue." She eyed him. "And anyway, I'm sure you have more of those 'family secrets' hidden away, like the one you used to warm my socks."
Clark merely nodded, awe-struck again by how incredibly beautiful Lois was. Right now, he didn't want to play football this afternoon; he didn't want to drive back to the city and then to the ground. All he wanted was to be with Lois. He took a deep breath.
"Lois?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Would you go out with me?"
"I am out with you."
"No. No ... I mean ... this is great, I've had a fantastic time ... but I'd like you to go *out* with me. On a date."
He saw her surprise, and it grated across his already tense insides. Had she not realised how he felt about her? Not even a hint of it?
"A date?" she asked in a tone that suggested she wasn't sure if she'd heard correctly.
Clark nodded. "A date," he said firmly. "I'd really like to take you on a date."
"Clark ..." She smiled, but there was no joy in it. "I don't do short-term relationships."
"I'm *not* thinking short term," Clark said gravely.
"Clark ... I don't do long-distance relationships either."
"We have ten weeks," Clark said hurriedly. "Ten weeks and then -."
"And then you go home," Lois said. "And I stay here."
"But ... maybe there are ... ways." Clark could hear the desperation in his voice. She would know how very much he wanted this, but right now, he didn't care.
"Ways?" she asked dispiritedly. "Ways that involve a lot of time apart? And a lot of travelling? I don't think that's a good idea."
"Travelling doesn't have to be problematic," he said.
"Clark," Lois said rationally. "You live on the other side of the world ... about as far away from Melbourne as it's possible to get."
"What if ... what if there were ways around the distance problem?" Clark asked. "What if we could work out something that suited both of us?"
Lois shook her head. "No," she said.
"Why not?" His question came out sharply. Clark deliberately softened his voice and asked again. "Why not, Lois? You are an amazing woman and I can't believe you haven't noticed how much I enjoy being with you."
She stared at him as if he'd said something unbelievable. "Clark, you must have plenty of interested women back in the States. They are probably falling all over themselves to get to you."
"It doesn't matter how many there are if I don't want them."
"So there have been a lot?" she questioned. "Hundreds of women?"
"Not hundreds, no," Clark said quickly. "Not even tens. Just a couple ... and no one like you."
"I don't do relationships well," Lois said. "I have a trail of ugly disasters behind me."
"But we could be different," Clark said beseechingly.
She paused, indecisive. "No, Clark," she said. "I don't think it is a good idea."
Her words crushed him, but her hesitation shone like a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.
The waitress arrived with their orders. They thanked her and offered limp smiles. When she had gone, they both looked at their meals, but neither started eating. Clark wasn't hungry. He pushed his plate away and settled back in his chair. He looked at Lois, who was staring miserably at her soup. He couldn't leave it here. He had ruined what had been a great day - a day Lois had gone to such effort to plan for him.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"S'OK," she replied, but she didn't look up at him.
He definitely couldn't leave it here either.
"Other than time and distance," Clark asked, trying to keep his tone even. "Is there any reason why you don't want to be with me?"
Lois's eyes slowly lifted from her soup - though not high enough to reach his face. She took a deep breath and pushed her hair behind her ear. She opened her mouth but then closed it before any words came out.
So there *was* something else. "Say it," Clark begged. "Anything is better than not knowing."
Still she hesitated. "You sure you want to know?" she asked eventually.
"Yes," he said. If I know, I can try to do something about it. "Yes. I want to know. Whatever it is."
"It's going to sound silly."
"Tell me," he begged. "Please?"
"You ... look too good."
Clark felt his mouth drop. "Excuse me?" he said.
"You're too good-looking."
He straightened, his mind throwing up a hundred suggestions of what he should say and then instantly rejecting each one of them. "Lois, I ... ah ... don't understand."
She slowly stirred her soup. "There's a gorgeous guy in my trail of disasters."
"But that doesn't mean ..." His protest died as he saw the pain rife on her face.
"There was a guy," Lois said, still absently stirring her soup. "He looked so unbelievably good, you couldn't help but gawk at him. He was gorgeous. His body was perfection. He was lots of fun and very charismatic and incredibly popular. He was an actor, working in one of the television shows made in Melbourne. His name was Claude Cooper-Hyde."
"What happened?" Clark asked.
"I fell for him," Lois admitted miserably. "Fell for him so hard, I would have dented concrete. He was very much the flavour of the month, and I knew he barracked for Hawthorn, so I managed to convince Browny that I should interview him."
"And you did?"
Lois nodded. "We hit it off immediately - right from the first moments of the interview. At least, I thought we did. Claude asked me to go with him to a function the next day, and somehow, the whole thing snowballed from that. It was the most exhilarating three weeks of my life. I saw other women look at me; I saw their open envy that I was with Claude. I didn't even take the time to really think about why someone like Claude would want to be with someone like me."
"What happened?" Clark said gently.
"Claude's photo was in the social pages - that happened a lot, but this time he was with another woman and they looked ... *close*. It had been a Saturday night event, and I hadn't been able to go with him because I had a game to cover. I asked him about the photo, and he said it was nothing, so I believed him. Then, a week later, one of the women's magazines led their edition with a story of an actress talking about her 'night of reckless passion' with Claude Cooper-Hyde."
"Aw, Lois," Clark said.
Lois continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I asked Claude about it, and he told me that his career was riding high and that in his business you never knew when the wave was going to crash, and he intended to enjoy everything that came with being all the rage."
Clark couldn't stay still any longer. He leant forward and slid his hand across the table. Lois didn't put her hand in his, so he gently squeezed the hand holding her spoon. She looked at him with a sad smile and he reluctantly withdrew his hand.
"I was devastated," Lois said in a voice that pierced Clark's heart.
"He was a fool," Clark said grimly.
"No," Lois said. "I was the fool. He couldn't believe that I had seriously thought he was interested in me." She looked up at Clark, and he could see her still-lingering pain. "He said his only interest in me was that with me being a footy journo, he thought my inside knowledge would be useful in helping him win when he bet on the football."
Clark could feel her pain. "Aw, Lois," he said, wishing he could gather her into his arms and hold her until all of the damage inflicted by Claude had melted away.
"And I promised myself ... never again ... *never* again would I fall for a bloke whose looks meant he would always have his pick of women."
"Look at me, Lois," Clark said gently.
"I don't need to," she said. "I know what you look like."
"Look at me, please."
She raised her eyes and met his.
"Do you really think I would do that to you?"
"I really think you'd have the opportunity," she said defiantly. "Many, many opportunities."
"And you think that if I'm in Metropolis and you're in Melbourne, there is more of a chance that I will take those opportunities?"
"Makes sense, doesn't it?"
"Lois ... " He didn't know what to say. Unless she trusted him, his promises were hollow. "Lois ... you've known me for a few weeks. That's not long, I know, but have I done anything in that time that makes you think I would do that to you?"
"*Did* you go to Esmeralda that night after she came asking you to fix her washing machine?"
"When we got into her unit, she took me to her bedroom. I only went in because I thought she was showing me to the washing machine. Once I realised, I got out of there as quickly as possible."
"Three days later, she told me that I didn't know what I was missing because you were a great ride."
"Lois!" Clark deliberately calmed himself. "Lois, nothing happened." He sighed desperately. "Please believe me."
"But you came back from her unit and immediately made an excuse to leave me."
Clark sighed. "I know," he said.
"I figured it had to be one of two things - either you wanted to go to Esmeralda, or you wanted me to think you had gone, so I would know you didn't want anything beyond friendship with me."
Clark shook his head. "No," he said. "That's not why I left you."
She waited, and he knew she was waiting for him to tell her why he'd left.
"There never was *anything* between Esmeralda and me," Clark said. "There never will be."
Lois stirred her soup but said nothing.
"Lois ..." Clark tried to form his words into something that wasn't going to make this situation worse. "Lois ... I do understand how much Claude hurt you, but ... maybe ... you shouldn't let one experience have such an effect on your future decisions."
"It's not just Claude," Lois said dejectedly.
Clark felt his heart twist further. "It's not?"
Lois shook her head. "I love football," she said. "But I'm not so enamoured that I don't realise that there's a seedy side to it. When you put young men into a situation where they are very well paid, where they have people flocking around them simply because they're on an AFL list, where they constantly have women throwing themselves at them ... some of them decide that they are going to make the most of everything on offer."
"But surely not everyone is like that?"
"It's tough," Lois said. "If you play footy in Melbourne, you have immediate celebrity status, and that gets you a whole lot of advantages. Being a journo, I see and hear of things that are ... unfortunate."
"Do you print them?"
"Depends on who is going to get hurt," Lois said. "Too often, it's the wives or girlfriends or parents or even kids that are going to pay if something goes public."
"Lois," Clark said. "I'm not a footballer."
"No, but you're like them in that you could have everything - it's right there for you to take. Women - as many as you like, whenever you like."
"Do you really believe that ... just because you think I look all right?"
"It's not like you don't have a few other advantages as well," she exclaimed.
"Like what?"
She clamped down on a smile that nearly escaped. "You know as well as I do, Kent, and I am *not* going to stroke your ego."
Clark lifted his hands in defeat.
Lois sobered. "What about Mayson?" she asked. "You've said she isn't your friend, but I know there is something there. What happened with her?"
"Mayson wanted us to be together," Clark admitted. "And she doesn't like being told 'no' by anyone, but the truth is I didn't even like her all that much. I could never consider being with her in that way."
"Does she know how you feel?"
"Yes. Although it took a long time and some very firm words to finally get the message through to her that we did *not* have a future together."
"Firm?" Lois said, and a hint of her smile showed for a tiny moment. "Is that a euphemism for you losing your cool?"
Clark shrugged and almost smiled. "One day, I'd had enough of being hunted, and I was extremely direct."
"I can't imagine you angry," Lois said.
"I'm not really in a position to allow myself to get angry."
Lois pulled apart her bread roll and loaded her knife with a blob of butter.
"I guess that's still a 'no' to the date," Clark said disconsolately.
"There's someone else I need to consider."
"Dan?"
"Yeah," Lois said. Clark again saw the sadness that Dan's name always seemed to elicit in her.
"Will you tell me what happened with him?" Clark asked. "I know it upsets you."
Lois stared into the fire. "Dan was my friend," she said. "When I arrived at the Herald Sun, there had never been a girl in the footy department before. Dan was great - he treated me like a colleague and not a bimbo. He'd only recently crossed over from Perth - so he wasn't really established yet either. We worked together; he showed me the ropes, and we became friends."
Maybe Scardino wasn't such a bad guy after all, Clark reflected.
"Then, one day a couple of months ago, we took our lunch to the Fitzroy Gardens, and as we sat on a park bench, Dan suddenly got all serious and told me he'd been in love with me for a very long time."
A single tear escaped from her eye and shimmered down her cheek. "I didn't know," Lois said. "I mean, I knew he liked me, was attracted to me maybe, but I didn't think about him that way."
"And now?" Clark asked gently and held his breath.
"I love him," Lois said, and Clark's world crashed around his feet. "But only as a friend, not ... romantically."
The fragments of Clark's world magically reconnected. "Do you think that will ever change?"
Lois shook her head sadly. "I didn't mean to hurt him. He was totally devastated. I didn't know it would mean so much to him."
"It's not your fault he got hurt."
"Dan is such a good bloke," Lois said. "He's kind, and he's honest, and he's good fun to be with, and he genuinely cares about others, and ... and sometimes, I just wish things could have been different."
"Different?"
"It makes sense ... we work together, we live in the same city, we both love footy, and ... and Dan loved me. He offered me everything he had - and I just shoved it back in his face."
"Lois, if you don't feel -."
"That's the problem," she cut in. "I *do* love him ... but as a friend ... a brother even. I will always love him ... but I will never *love* him. I don't think our friendship will survive this." Lois brushed the back of her hand along her lower eyelash. "It's me," she said dejectedly. "I fall crazily in love with a low-life like Claude, and when a decent bloke like Dan tells me he loves me, I feel nothing at all. Nothing of what he wants me to feel."
"I'm sorry," Clark said. And it was the truth ... partially. He *was* sorry Lois felt regret that she had hurt her friend. He was most definitely *not* sorry that she didn't love Dan Scardino. "Is that why Dan went to Metropolis?"
Lois nodded. "The chance came to be in the exchange program, and he took it. I know he only went to get away from me. Because I hurt him so much. And now he's lost his football club too."
"So if you went on a date with me ..."
"If I went on a date with you," Lois said. "It's just going to seem like I'm rubbing Dan's nose it in."
From what Clark had seen, it was very possible that Dan had moved on ... to Mayson Drake. He couldn't tell Lois that, though. There was no way to explain how he knew.
"Have you talked to Dan?" Clark asked. "Other than about Fitzroy merging with Brisbane?"
"No. It's not something either of us wants to talk about."
"The guys at the paper? Gazza and the others? They blamed you for this, didn't they?" Clark said.
Lois shrugged. "They know Dan is an ace bloke - one of the absolute best. They know he was gutted by what I did to him. I understand why they sided with him."
"Do you think that if you went out with me, they will react badly? Out of loyalty to Dan?"
"I don't know," Lois said. "I don't care too much about what they think. I do care about Dan getting hurt again."
"What do *you* want to do?"
Lois slowly shook her head. "I don't know."
Clark smiled. "Perhaps going on a date with me would help you sort out what you want," he suggested softly.
Lois didn't match his smile. "And where would that get us?" she asked dismally. "Alone? Apart? Just living for the few weeks we can spend together each year?"
"Are you scared of being hurt again?"
"Yes, I am. And even if you never did what Claude did ... we'd be apart ... and I reckon after ten weeks of being together, that's going to hurt like crazy."
Being away from you already hurts, Clark thought. "But ... we'd also be together," he said. "And that would be ... everything."
Lois looked at him directly, as if weighing his words. "Just answer me this," she said. "Why would a man like you want to be with a journo from Melbourne with nothing in her head beyond football?"
"Because of who you are. Because of your loyalty, and your integrity, and your determination, and your incredible strength, and because you are honest and open. And because you care so deeply about people - like you cared for the people who love Fitzroy."
His words had brought a pink velvety colour to her cheeks. Clark wanted to lean over and drop a kiss on the softness of her warm skin.
"There's something about you, Clark Kent," Lois said.
"Is that a good thing?"
The corners of her mouth twitched. "I haven't decided yet."
"I'm willing to wait for as long as you need."
"Four months?" she said, her eyes smiling even though her mouth wasn't ... not quite.
"I'll book my flight back to Melbourne," Clark said. "Give me a time and a place, and I'll be there."
Lois smiled. "I can probably have an answer before then," she said.
"I will do everything in my power not to hurt you, Lois," Clark promised. "Will you think about going on a date with me? Please?"
She smiled. "Eat your sanger."
"Sanger?"
"Australian for sandwich."
"Oh." Clark examined his 'sanger'. It had slices of red beets in it ... and the juice had leaked all over his steak. "What is that red stuff?"
"Beetroot," Lois said, as if its presence in his sandwich was totally expected.
"In a steak sandwich?" he exclaimed.
"You're in Australia now," she told him. "Eat your sanger."
Clark smiled. "Yes, ma'am." He picked up his sandwich and, trying very hard to ignore the red stains, took a bite.
It didn't matter anyway. He doubted he would taste it.
After weeks of keeping his silence, he had finally voiced his feelings to Lois.
She hadn't agreed to go on a date with him. But she hadn't said 'no' when he'd asked her to think about it.
He had a chance.
*They* had a chance.
||_||
A/N - I definitely lifted lines from the park scene in 'Barbarians at the Planet' by Dan Levine and Deborah Joy Levine. It amused me to take Clark out of that situation and put Dan *in* it!
Sanger rhymes with hanger, not ranger.
Fair dinkum - true, genuine, real.
