From Part 1
Never in my life had I felt so lonely while working at the Planet. Where was my best friend? Where was my partner, who had been there for me whenever I needed him? Secretly, I watched him as he sat at his desk, grumpily typing something into his computer. He was probably working on one of those smaller articles he no longer told me about. Not that it was important for me to know about each mood piece he was writing. But I missed talking to him. I deeply regretted ever calling him Mr. Green Jeans. I wanted to apologize for whatever I might have done wrong to deserve being treated like this. But there was nothing I could think of.
Clark had not been working for long when he suddenly looked up and stared into space. Then he jumped up and hurried over to me.
"I need to go, Lois. Be right back," he said and my heart clench in my chest when I realized that I even missed his bad excuses.
* * *
Only in my dreams
Part 2
When Clark returned, the newsroom was back to its usual daily routine. He adjusted his tie, then his glasses and went over to his desk. Midway, he paused and looked around indecisively. It took him a moment to work up his courage, then he turned and came towards me. A kaleidoscope of different emotions displayed on his face. I could see fear in his eyes, a bad conscience, and regret.
"Lois," he started, looking depressed. His eyes locked with mine just long enough to find out if he had my attention. Then he averted his gaze. Ever so briefly, he checked on me again, but mostly he stared into space.
I did not hurry to look up from my work. My fingers typed mechanically. Most of it was certainly nonsense, but I chose to ignore him deliberately. I could not let him win. He had already more influence on me than I should have ever allowed him to get. Although I had every reason to be angry with Clark, although I really wanted to forget him, I could not.
"Lois," Clark said a little louder and more determinate. "I ... I'm sorry," he muttered ruefully. I decided that now was the time to finally look at him instead of secretly sneaking a peek. His face was pale and his lips had become a thin line.
"What are you sorry for, Clark?" I asked angrily, trying to convey how much he had hurt me. "That you went to Perry or that I had to listen?" Clark flinched at the tone of my voice. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he kept silent.
I had no intention of letting him get away just like that. "What's going on, Clark? Are you afraid that Mayson is going to be jealous? It's just a job, you know? I will not try to seduce you!" I sneered angrily.
I hated that Mayson was his girlfriend. I hated his reserved attitude towards me and most of all I hated that my heart beat faster as soon as I saw him.
Clark hesitated for a moment and suddenly looked very sad. "I'm sorry about the things I said to Perry. I didn’t mean to implicate that spending time with you was something bad," he replied softly and chose to ignore my rude remark concerning Mayson. "Because it's not. Anything but that." His gaze drifted over my wrinkled brows. "I ... It hasn’t been easy for me lately," he added mysteriously, tensed and fell silent again.
"She has you wrapped around her little finger, do you realize that, Clark?" Furiously, I jumped up from my chair, hurling the words into his face. "Barely two weeks ago, you didn’t run at the mere thought of watching a movie with me. Now you're acting as if I’m sick with the plague," I accused him. Sometimes I wondered if Mayson really was the only reason for Clark's strange behavior. Anyway, ever since he got to know her, he had kept his distance from me.
Clark’s eyes widened in horror. "Lois, I ..." he began hesitantly, but soon stopped, swallowing whatever he had meant to say. For a moment he looked at me with puppy dog eyes, pleading for help. But upon regaining his composure, his words sounded a lot calmer. "This has nothing to do with you, Lois. I'm sorry if you got that impression." His voice was monotone, almost as if he had kept rehearsing this. He swallowed hard before he continued. "What would you think if we were having a relationship and I went to a marriage counseling session with another woman?" he asked quietly.
"This is not going to be a date, Clark. We are working on a story. And although we might not be a couple, we are partners. Do I really need to remind you?" I said coldly, deliberately ignoring his question.
I could not stand the thought that I was supposed to care about Mayson’s feelings. Clark’s observation was probably justified. If our places were reversed, I would like this kind of assignment no more than she did. Still, I felt that Clark was not entirely sincere about his objections. Something was wrong, though I could not put my finger on what.
"Clark," a high-pitched angel-like voice chirped, choosing the worst of all possible moments.
Mayson Drake had her own warning system that went off whenever I was having a serious conversation with Clark. She interrupted us each and every time. Her face beamed with joy as she waved her hand, greeting us - or more likely - just Clark. Usually, she barely looked at me, muttering something under her breath that could be mistaken for a ‘Hello’. Her eyes remained fixed on Clark, glued to him forever. She had changed since our first meeting. Her eyes were gleaming with joy, her cheeks had adopted an adorable blush, and she exuded an aura of pure bliss. I got stomach cramps every time I realized that Clark had caused this change. In her, not in me. Mayson Drake was more beautiful than ever, blonde, slim, popular and very much in love with Clark. I hated her.
"Mayson," Clark greeted his girlfriend in a strangely flat voice.
Looking up, he saw her, and a smile crept onto his face as his shoulders relaxed. Even so, the muscles of his jaw tensed and his hands were clenched into fists. He was either not too happy to see her, or I was hallucinating. But his tension dissolved after mere seconds. His fists loosened and Clark closed the distance to the assistant district attorney.
"Nice to see you," he said gently and then lowered his voice. "I wasn’t expecting you today. Didn’t you say that you needed to work on an important case?"
Mayson smiled at him sweetly, wagging her index finger. "Don’t you wanna kiss me?" She pouted, probably thinking that it looked tempting. Getting as far away from them as I could, seemed the reasonable thing to do. But they were cooing right next to my desk.
"Of course," Clark replied, and I imagined that he did it without any particular enthusiasm.
He leaned in and whispered a kiss onto her mouth. She closed her eyes in anticipation of something more than the brief peck. When the kiss did not turn into a more intimate one, she blinked, stucking out her bottom lip with disappointment. Clark’s behavior confused me, too. I had witnessed much more intimate encounters between the two of them. But as opposed to Mayson, I was relieved that Clark had not tortured me any more than that.
"I was around and thought that it would be nice to drop by and say hello," Mayson explained, winking conspiratorially. "See you tonight?" She cooed in her own version of the famous Cat Grant style. Mayson leaned against Clark and possessively laid her hand on his chest. The look in her eyes was telling - she was much worse than Cat had ever been.
"Um ... Mayson, about tonight ..." Clark’s words were swallowed by a hungry kiss. An eternity passed, before he gently pushed her away. Or so it seemed to me. "Mayson, please ..." he whispered in a soft moan. "Not here ... I need to talk to you tonight."
Who knew what Mayson was dreaming about? Perhaps she thought that Clark would pop the question? My heart suddenly skipped a beat. What if he did? What if he actually did propose to Mayson this evening? I suddenly felt ill, my stomach tightened and blood roared in my ears. I wanted to ignore them and pretend that I did not care. But hard as I tried, I could not look away.
"I must get back to work now. Perry has been pretty grumpy lately," Clark told her, not even flinching at his blatant lie. If anyone had been grumpy, it was Clark. But his lying to Mayson made me feel a little better. At least, I was not the only one to whom he did not tell the truth.
"Oh ..." Mayson said disappointed and once more twitched her lips into a pout. "I thought maybe we’d go out for lunch."
"I’m sorry, Mayson, but I’ve got a lot of work to do. Lois and I need to meet a source and then ... I'll see you tonight, I promise," he added consolingly and briefly kissed her on the cheek. Mayson savored every moment of it, making me want to slap her.
"See you tonight, Clark," Mayson replied, withdrawing reluctantly. Finally she waved goodbye and walked away, her hips swaying.
Clark slumped against my desk as soon as she had left the newsroom. "God," he muttered with a groan.
Much to my surprise, I practically saw him shrink. His head hung, making him the most pitiful sight imaginable. I had just opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, when he got up again, straightening his shoulders.
"I’ve got to go, Lois," he announced hastily and did what he always did when things got serious. He disappeared.
Confused, I watched him leave. When someone cleared his throat right next to me, I flinched. My heart pounded madly as I turned around and saw a black bowler hat, worn by a man who was dressed in a very old-fashioned way. Blue eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses looked back at me.
"Excuse me, Miss ..." he said guiltily. "I had no intention of scaring you." A smile spread across his face. "My name is Wells, and I would like to talk to Mr. Kent."
"You’re not the only one," I muttered depressed, and then I turned to the stranger who was staring at me, puzzled. "Excuse me, Mr. Wells. My partner has just left the newsroom and I have not the slightest idea how long he will be gone. Would you like to leave a message?"
to be continued...
