Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Aussie Rules (34/?)

Mayson's tears flowed again, and she shook her head. "No, Alice," she said. "That would destroy him. We need to find a way to lessen his workload."

"Can he employ someone new?"

"He could - but if anyone is going to take on some of Perry's work, it will have to be someone he knows and trusts."

"How about Clark? I know Perry's missed him since he went to Australia."

"Clark will be home in two months," Mayson said. "But by then ..."

Alice White put her hand on Mayson's arm - warm and motherly. "You leave it with me," she said. "Perry runs that newsroom, but I run this marriage. I'll tell him that unless he gets Clark home, I will insist that he retires."

Mayson stared soulfully as she dabbed at her tears. "Thank you, Alice. You have no idea what this means to me."


Part 34

Lois finished the final edit and submitted her match report of the Melbourne-Carlton game. Lowly placed Melbourne had won. Carlton, in the Eight and looking ahead to finals, would be devastated.

"FLINDERS!"

Lois sighed. Reporting on a Carlton loss was akin to trying to navigate safely through a crocodile-infested river. She stood, smiled with slightly exaggerated apprehension to Clark as she passed his desk, and entered Browny's office.

"Flinders," he said mildly. "How's everything going?"

"Good," Lois said, her suspicions immediately aroused by his tone. "I just submitted my story."

"Banjo was at Don Scott's press conference yesterday."

Lois paused, wondering if Browny was going to ask for inside information. "Yeah, I saw his story," she said noncommittally.

Browny picked up a pencil and absently tapped it on his desk. "Lois," he said. "The word on the street is that the merger group have no intention of backing down."

Lois processed his use of her name. If this was an information-seeking manoeuvre, it was heavily cloaked in what looked like genuine concern. "I know," she said, careful to keep her tone free of attitude.

"Do you think this campaign - this 'Operation Payback' that Scott outlined yesterday - has any chance at all?"

He wanted her *opinion*? "Yes," Lois said firmly. "I believe that if enough people care, we can avoid the merger."

"You really think you can raise a million dollars to pay back the debt?"

"Yes."

"Avoiding the merger isn't an end in itself."

"It's the first step."

"Flinders ..." Browny paused. He seemed to dismiss whatever he'd been going to say. "Get out of here," he said gruffly. "I know you want to get out to Waverley for the Hawthorn game tonight."

It seemed she wasn't going to have to face difficult questions. "Thanks, Browny," she said. "And ... commiserations to Carlton."

He grunted. "Good luck to Hawthorn," he said. "With everything."

Lois hesitated for a tiny moment, overcome by the totally unexpected inclination to circle the desk and hug her editor. She shook her head and walked out of his door.

Clark turned at the sound of her footsteps. "You OK?" he asked with a nod to Browny's office.

"Yeah," Lois said slowly. "Except ... I nearly hugged him."

Clark grinned. "Well, if you're feeling inclined to hug someone, I'm here."

She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Have you finished your story?" she asked. "I'm hoping to get to Waverley in time for the first bounce."

Clark nodded. "All done. Let's go."

Lois stopped at her desk to shut down her computer, and then they walked out of the newsroom together.

"I bought you a present yesterday," she said.

Clark smiled. "You did?"

Lois nodded. "A beautiful, long, brown-and-gold woollen scarf," she said. "It's time you publicly declared your allegiance."

"You're expecting me to *wear* it?" he asked, managing to insert disbelief in his tone but completely failing to shut down the amusement that glinted in his eyes.

"You bet I'm expecting you to wear it," she retorted.

"And if I don't?"

"You'll be walking home from Waverley," she said severely. "Alone."

Clark's eyebrows lifted. "Walking?" he said with a wide grin.

"Walking," she confirmed.

He put his hand on the small of her back. "And why would I walk?" he said. "When there are other - more convenient - ways to get across the city?"

"Because Clark Kent is too principled to wangle his way out of something he knows he deserves."

Clark chuckled. "I'll wear the scarf," he said.

Lois grinned at him. "Smart move, big guy."

||_||

It was almost midnight when they arrived back at Lois's unit. She pushed open her door, and Clark followed her in. She turned to him, her smile still lit by her lingering excitement. "What a great game," she enthused.

It had been. Hawthorn had won by ten goals; their captain, Jason Dunstall, had kicked fourteen goals; and Lois had revelled in every moment of it.

"Jason Dunstall was amazing," Clark said. "He was unstoppable."

Lois grinned wider. "That's Piggy for you," she said with evident affection.

"Piggy?"

"He's fat."

Clark shot Lois a questioning look, and she giggled.

"OK, he's not fat," she amended. "Just a little bulky, but we still call him Piggy." She walked into the kitchen and filled up the electric jug. "Want coffee?"

He hesitated. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"Yes," Lois said. "But I won't sleep yet anyway. I'm way too excited."

Clark followed her into the kitchen and corralled her body into the corner of the counter, although he stopped short of making any contact. "You got pretty animated at times tonight," he said, smiling at the memory.

Lois took an end of his scarf in each hand. "It feels just like it did when I was a kid," she said. "Somehow, I lost something. I got all professional and got distracted by the game, and I lost much of the intrinsic enjoyment of simply barracking for Hawthorn." She laughed, her head back and her eyes shining. "This feels *so* good."

"If Richmond get beaten by Sydney tomorrow, Hawthorn will be back in the Eight."

"Oooh," Lois said. "You've been researching, Mr USA."

"And Sydney are on top of the ladder," he continued. "I can't see Richmond winning."

She sobered. "We play Sydney next week."

"Uhmm," Clark said, figuring it was safer not to speculate on Hawthorn's chances of beating the top team. "I figure playing finals is even more important this year."

Lois tugged slightly on his scarf, easing him closer. "Obviously - if the merger does happen - I want us to eke out every last game ... to create every last memory. But it's more than that. I'm hoping that some characteristic Hawthorn spirit on the field will cause people to question whether they really want to surrender our club to the AFL administrators."

"Who does Hawthorn play after Sydney?"

"St Kilda ... and then Melbourne."

"Melbourne?"

She nodded. "Melbourne. It's going to be a huge game. The last round, and it's possible we will have to win to make the finals. And all the merger stuff will be reaching fever pitch with the vote only two weeks after that."

And if the merger went ahead, it could be the last game Hawthorn ever played, Clark reflected dismally. He pushed away that thought. "You seem so much more positive," he said. "More hopeful that the merger will be avoided."

"I am," Lois said. "I've been feeling it since we all met with Scotty on Thursday ... and the feeling was definitely there tonight. We haven't given up. We're still fighting. We're going to pay off our debts and build a sustainable membership ... and show them that they can't just take our club because it suits their vision for a balanced competition."

"Lois," Clark said. Then he stopped.

"What?"

"Perhaps you should have Milo instead of coffee."

She smiled. "That isn't what you were going to say."

Clark paused - he had so many reservations about what he was going to say. "Lois," he said. "The debt problem could be solved if Ultra Woman did an interview."

Her mouth dropped in shock. "Would *Superman* do an interview just for the money?" she demanded.

"It might depend on the cause," Clark said warily.

"Clark - I'm not going to trade off being with you," she said. "And I'm certainly not going to let someone like Mayson Drake think she has the right to probe into our lives. And if Hawthorn are going to make it, it has to be a team effort - it has to be many people doing whatever they can, not one person doing everything."

Clark nodded. "I know," he said. "But neither of us had mentioned it, and I thought we should at least air the possibility."

Lois took a firmer grip on his scarf, pulled him against her, and stretched to meet him.

Her mouth touched his, and immediately, the touch intensified to feeling, and the feeling escalated to a ravenous flames. Clark snatched her close and drank hungrily from the taste, and the essence, and the allure of Lois Lane.

The tip of her tongue seared deftly across his upper lip and ravished his ability to think. Her hands on his neck felt like fire. Her mouth felt like an inferno. His heart pummelled, his muscles melded, and every instinct drove his need to experience more of this woman.

Then - and Clark was never sure who had backed away - they were apart, both rasping frayed breaths as their hearts pounded like the hooves of stampeding wild horses.

They stood in whirring suspension as they tried to claw back from the edge of control. Lois looked up to him, her lips slightly puffy from the imprint of his mouth. "What are we going to do?" she asked in a throaty whisper.

Clark had never felt so conflicted. "Lois," he said. "It's late. It's *really* late, and we both have games tomorrow."

A wry chuckle wafted on her next breath. "You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it," she said.

"I'm trying to talk *both * of us out of it," he said.

"Why?" she asked quickly. "What aren't you sure about? Us? Taking this a step further? Are you having second thoughts?"

Her doubts coursed a river of dismay through him. "Lois," he said as he put his forefinger under her chin and gently lifted her face. "Remember what Barb said? I have no doubts at all about the 'who' and the 'why'. But I want to get the 'when' right."

"And now isn't the time?"

Clark shook his head. "No, honey," he said, even as hammers of regret bombarded his brain. "You deserve more than something that is squeezed between a late night and a busy day."

A shadow of uncertainty still lingered. "You'd tell me? If ... if ... if something had changed?"

Her eyes were begging for reassurance. "Lois," he said, his voice steady and sure. "If you're asking whether I'm suffering like any other man who's completely in love with a beautiful and sexy woman but hasn't taken that love to its physical conclusion ... then, yes, I'm suffering."

She smiled as the uncertainty melted away. "Me, too," she said.

Those two words nearly undid him. He took a steadying breath. "Wednesday," he said. "I have the day off. I'll help you with whatever you're doing for 'Operation Payback' during the day, but I'd like to take you on a date in the evening. Somewhere really nice." He grinned. "Do you realise I've *never* seen you in a dress?"

"Jeans are my standard clothing in winter." She smiled. "But dressing up sounds like fun."

"Then, let's do it," Clark said. He kissed her, briefly and with a restrained chasteness, and then he smiled apologetically. "I have to go."

She nodded her acquiescence. "See you tomorrow."

"Lois, I love you."

"I know," she said softly. "And, I love you. Always."

"Always."

||_||

"So, Clark ... the bottom line is that I need you back in Metropolis. As soon as possible."

Clark's eyes closed, and his breath stopped as the world swam around him.

"Clark? Are you still there?"

"I'm still here, Chief."

"Alice says that if I can't get you home, I have to retire. And if I refuse, she'll move out. She says she won't stand by and watch me work myself into an early grave."

Perry had already outlined his position. Possibly, he was repeating it for emphasis. Or possibly, Clark's fragmented responses had made Perry think there was a problem with the telephone line.

"There's a flight leaving Melbourne late Wednesday afternoon," Perry said. "If you say it's OK, I'll confirm the booking."

"What ... what about the Herald Sun?"

"The board has approved us paying the Herald Sun equivalent to your salary for the remainder of the exchange program," Perry said. "I haven't spoken to Scardino, but if he would prefer to go home early, we could simply exchange back."

"Perry ..."

"Is there a problem?" Perry asked. Clark could hear the surprise in his voice.

"I ... I have commitments here."

"Commitments?" Perry said, disbelief raising his voice. "You knew you were only going to be there for three months."

"I have to be in Melbourne for September 16th," Clark said firmly.

Perry hesitated. "Clark ... I thought you'd jump at the chance to get home early."

"I ... I like it here."

"But, Clark, you're writing about *football*," Perry said. "That's an appalling waste of your talents."

"It's not just a game," Clark said.

There was silence, and Clark could feel Perry's bewilderment. "Clark, I ... I just assumed that it would be all right with you. I still feel bad that you were railroaded into going at such short notice. "

"There's someone I need to talk to," Clark said. "I can't give you a definite answer until I've spoken to her."

He heard Perry expel a long breath. "Oh ..." he said. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't realise."

"It's OK, Chief," Clark said. "It's just ... difficult, you know?"

"It didn't occur to me that you ..."

"*Have* you been unwell?" Clark asked. "Is there a good reason why Alice is so worried?"

"I've been fine," Perry insisted. "I've been getting off the subway two stations early and walking to the Planet. I've been watching what I eat. I've lost nearly ten pounds, and I've been trying not to get stressed over deadlines and incompetent copyboys."

"Then why is Alice worried?"

"Beats me," Perry said in a tone of exasperation. "Yesterday, she stormed into my office, and without even a 'How do you do', she told me that if I didn't resign - immediately - she would be packing her bags and moving out. I was flummoxed but eventually managed to broker a deal that if you came home, and I made you my assistant editor, I could continue - both as an editor and a husband."

Clark sighed deeply - and quickly covered the phone with his hand. Mayson. He would bet his bottom dollar that Mayson had something to do with this. "How's Mayson been?" he asked.

"Mayson?" Perry said. "She's been OK the past couple of days. She had a harebrained idea about doing a story on Lex Luthor's latest charity initiative, but it was too similar to something she did recently. I told her so, and she just shrugged and walked out of my office without as much as a peep of argument."

Clark sighed. Yep, Mayson had engineered this. She wanted him back in Metropolis. "I'll call you in an hour and let you know," he said.

"I'm sorry," Perry said. "I honestly thought you'd be glad to get back to some real reporting."

"I'll call you," Clark said.

He slowly replaced the phone and squeezed the bridge of his nose. It was Tuesday morning. His flight was tomorrow afternoon.

Lois.

His heart contracted at the thought of telling her. Hurting her. Disappointing her.

Clark stood from his desk and crossed the newsroom.

"Hey, Rubber," Gazza called. "Where're you going?"

"Ah ... I just got a call ... and I need to follow up."

"Ooohh, Rubber," Gazza said, grinning widely. "Your first big footy scandal. What have you got? Injury? Possible trade deal? A coach about to be dumped?"

Clark forced a smile that he feared was woeful. "Gotta go," he said.

Gazza chuckled, and Clark walked out of the newsroom.

||_||

Clark waited gloomily in Yarra Bank Reserve. He had called Lois, and she had agreed to meet him here.

He'd tried to keep from alerting her to his downcast spirits but had known immediately that he had failed.

She suspected bad news.

And bad news was all he had to give her.

Clark knew he couldn't refuse Perry. Not Perry. Not the editor who had given Clark his first big break - and since then had been unwavering in his support and encouragement ... even when he'd felt the need to berate the young reporter.

He *couldn't* refuse Perry. Alice White wasn't a woman to make empty threats. If she left Perry, that would kill him more surely than any amount of stress. Perry couldn't resign - not now, not with the paper on the brink of being eclipsed by the Star. Not when his resignation would give the editor's position to Mayson Drake - or, equally as bad, a figurehead who would be putty in her hands.

Clark heard the heartbeat he'd been listening for, and stood from the park bench. He saw Lois on the other side of Bridge Road and focussed to get a clearer look at her face. What he saw felt like a spear to his heart.

She was worried. The traffic lights changed, and she crossed the road, her eyes flitting ahead, looking for him. Clark stepped out from between the trees. She saw him and ran the final few steps. "Clark?" she said. "What's wrong?"

"Perry called," he said.

"Oh, no," she said, her hand on his arm. "Is he all right? It's his health, isn't it?"

Clark shook his head. "Not really." He saw her alarm and hurried on. "Perry's wife, Alice, is worried that his workload is damaging his health. She's told him either he has to retire or she'll leave him."

"Oh, Clark."

"There's one other option she'll accept."

Lois's eyes closed - but not before he'd seen her register what was coming. "That you go back," she said desolately.

He nodded and put both hands on her shoulders. "Lois, I'm sorry."

"When?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

She made a small sound that could have been a sob, but she forced a smile that was completely incongruous with the anguish in her eyes. "We're not meant to ever have that date, are we?" she said.

"Lois," he said desperately. "Lois, we can still see each other."

"I know," she said. "But it will be different."

"I've told Perry I have to be in Melbourne on September 16th. Nothing will keep me from being with you for the vote."

She smiled sadly. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Clark said.

"There's nothing you can do," she said. Her hand wandered down his arm. "You have to be there for Perry."

"Thanks for understanding."

"I'll call Barb and cancel tonight."

"No, Lois."

"Clark, we can't spend out last evening together having dinner with Ron and Barb."

"Yes, we can, honey," he said. "I know how pleased you were when Barb called and invited us."

"But it's our last night," she said plaintively.

"We need to go," Clark said. "Your relationship with Ron and Barb is too important to risk it by cancelling at this late stage."

"They would understand."

"They don't know me. I want them to be happy about you being with me."

"Are you sure it's all right?"

"Yes," Clark said. "Once I'm back in the States, we won't be able to do anything like that."

"I'm going to miss you," Lois said.

"We still have a day and a half," he said.

She nodded forlornly. They both knew it wasn't enough. A lifetime together wasn't enough. A day and a half didn't even begin to salve their need to be together.

"Do you want to get a coffee?" Lois asked.

Hating that he was going to disappoint her again, Clark despondently shook his head. "I didn't even tell Browny I was going out. I need to get back. I need to tell him about this."

Lois reached for him and held him close for a long moment. "See you tonight," she said.

"Lois?" he said. "Lois, I hate seeing you sad. I said I wouldn't hurt you again."

She smiled, though he could see every ounce of effort it required. "It can't be helped," she said.

"You know I'll visit you? Every single chance I get?"

She nodded.

"I love you."

"I know," Lois said. "That's why this hurts so much."

She kissed him and then turned away. "See you tonight," she said.

Clark watched her walk away, wishing he could pick her up and take her away to a place where they could be together forever.

Notes

Jason Dunstall - AKA Piggy, Bung 'ole, the Chief, and Dunny - kicked a career tally of 1254 goals, making him the third highest goal scorer in history.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jason_Dunstall