From Part 2
"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?"
* * *
Only in my dreams
Part 3
Hours later ...
The phone rang, waking me mercilessly. But it had to ring a second and a third time, before I realized that this was the call I had been waiting for, so long that I had finally fallen asleep. I reached out to pick up, but stopped a few inches short of taking the phone. My hand remained dangling above the receiver. Now that I could, I was not so sure that I really wanted to talk to my sister. It rang a fourth and a fifth time, then I finally picked up the phone. Lucy did not deserve to be ignored, not after I had stirred up so much trouble.
I answered the phone, my voice unsteady, “Lois Lane.”
It actually was my sister, like I had already suspected. She was a real Lane, speaking so fast that I understood only half of her words, if that much. I learned that she had hurried to get back home, because Mom had called her at work and told her about my distress. That and my hesitation at taking her call had my sister worried.
"I'm sorry, Luce," I replied, somewhat sheepishly, not really knowing how to apologize for my stupid behavior. "I was in the shower. And I called Mom because I didn’t know your new phone number. She couldn’t remember it right away, so she promised to pass on the message..."
"What’s so important, Sis?" Lucy interrupted me. No doubt, she was not buying my explanation. Her tone of voice demanded answers.
"Important? It’s not really important." I bit my tongue. Suddenly I wanted to hang up rather than talk to Lucy. Why was it so difficult to pour out my grief? I was talking utter nonsense. Of course, it was important, else...
"Of course, it’s important, Lois. Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me. You never call, if it’s not important," Lucy concluded my sentence.
It was true. I kept telling people that my relationship with my sister was disastrous. But she really knew me well - better than my parents. Other than Clark, she was probably the only person who had ever seen me vulnerable. And yet we seldom spoke to each other. I was ashamed that I bothered her with my problems now, when I had ignored her the rest of the time. But there was really no one else I could talk to.
"It's about Clark ...,“ I said and my throat seemed to swell shut with the mere mentioning of him.
"That handsome friend of yours?" Lucy was becoming curious. "What about him? Has he finally worked up the courage to ask you out and now you’re having second thoughts?"
"Mmhh, something of that sort," I muttered. She was not even close. If he had asked me out on a date, I would not need this sort of conversation. I should finally get around to telling her the truth. "This whole Lex debacle is still nagging at me," I said slowly, taking a deep breath. "Clark told me that it’s about time for me to start dating again."
That was not entirely true. Clark encouraging me to date again – that had happened weeks ago. Now, he hardly talked to me at all. And it was getting worse. My final assignment for this evening had been an interview with a local politician. When I came back to the newsroom, I had found a note on my desk.
I'll pick you up at noon, tomorrow. See you, Clark.
Although, we had spent hours together, meeting a source, he had waited until after my interview to put a note onto my desk. How could we go on an undercover assignment if Clark was not even able to talk to me? Each and every morning, I came to work, my heart pounding with fear. Someday soon Perry would call me into his office, telling me that Clark had called off our partnership and had disappeared once and for all. This mere thought made me sad and angry and desperate. It killed me that Clark did not tell me why he was being so cold. Why could we not talk about our problems like adults? Why did he choose to hide?
As soon as I talked about going out again, I could almost see Lucy nod at the other end of the line. She had suggested the same thing and not just once. I heard her breathing. Presumably, she wondered whether she should approve or exercise caution in order not to drive me up the wall. I had not been very keen on dating, to put it lightly.
"That's great, Lois. So what's the problem?" Lucy asked enthusiastically. She had apparently decided to encourage me.
"I uh ... I ..." I could not say it. Even now, the realization was too shocking to put into words. "I would like for Clark to be my date," I said softly. There – I had spilled it. My breathing came in ragged gasps as if I had been running a marathon.
"I knew it ..." Lucy cheered. "Lois, I always knew that someday you would finally realize that you’re partnered with a great man. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve found each other. Congratulations, Sis!” I could almost hear her jumping up giddily. The jubilation was unfortunately a little premature - not to mention utterly misplaced.
"Clark hates me, Lucy," I summed up the crux of the matter, my voice hoarse. "He is a good partner, he is working with me, but he hates me." I could not help thinking that he had ceased being a good partner, too. However, I did not voice my thoughts. Instead, I got up from the bed, restlessly pacing my bedroom.
The line went silent for a moment and I swallowed with my confession. It had taken me pretty long to become aware of this simple fact. The formality Clark treated me with was almost unbearable. We worked together, yes, but we spoke only when necessary. In other words, we talked about work, exclusively. Clark had not invited me to his place for weeks. He shut me out of his life. And he barely even looked at me anymore.
I remembered our last time playing a honeymoon couple. Now there was a snowball’s chance in hell that this was going to be even half as much fun as we had once had. Looking back on those first few months of our partnership, I deeply regretted being so stubborn. Why had I ignored how much comfort I found in his presence? Had there really ever been a mutual, though covert, attraction that I now only vaguely remembered? Thinking about the way things had once been was slowly killing me
"He doesn’t hate you, Lois. Why would he?" my sister disagreed soothingly.
"I don’t know,” I said defensively, “It’s just the way it is. When I last asked him if he minded me coming to join him for a video, he just told me that I should start dating someone," I almost sobbed. "He wants to get rid of me."
"I’m sure he just meant to help you - I thought you were best friends," Lucy said encouragingly. Her words were not helping much. Maybe he had meant to help me, but not because he was my friend.
"I thought so, too." I sighed and sat down on my bed again, only to rise a split second later. "After this whole Luthor fiasco, Clark was so kind and caring. But then he eventually began to retreat. "
Restlessly, I resumed pacing my bedroom, as if it would help me describing my feelings more clearly. But I would need more than a single call to tell Lucy about everything that had happened between Clark and me during the last couple of months. After all, I had to get up early tomorrow and Lucy as well. By the time I had made up my mind about what I wanted to say, I had ended up in the living room. With another sigh, I sank down onto my very uncomfortable sofa.
"Oh, I don’t know," I continued. "When we first met, I thought he had a thing for me. Especially when he tried to talk me out of dating Lex Luthor. But finally I realized that he wasn’t jealous. He just knew that Lex Luthor was the criminal mastermind of Metropolis." I sighed again.
When Clark had dragged me out of the LNN building and into Centennial Park, I had actually thought that he was about to declare his love for me. The way he had looked at me, caring and concerned, with those gentle brown eyes - that moment had been kind of magical. But at the time I had not realized he was the man with whom I wanted to spend my life. Clark was like a big brother, a loyal friend, but not my lover. My mind had already been forming a rejection that I had hoped would not crush him But then things had turned out very differently.
Clark had looked down and suddenly the magic had been gone, disrupted as he had cleared his throat. When he had looked back at me, the loving expression in his eyes had vanished. It had been as if he had remembered something unpleasant, something that had destroyed every spark of hope.
"Lex Luthor is not a good person, Lois," Clark had said soberly, almost emotionless. Nothing in his voice had reminded me of the jealousy I had noticed a few days before. "Superman told me that he’s involved in almost every crime here in Metropolis. You may not believe me, Lois, but Superman has seen it. I beg you not to marry Luthor, Lois. Wait until I can get evidence. You would deeply regret a marriage with him."
In hindsight, I was glad that he had not let me reject him. It was bad enough that I had refused listening to him. If he really had made a declaration of love, then he would probably hate me even more.
"Maybe he's too shy to suggest a date. Or he thinks that you still need your time to get over Lex," Lucy tried to soothe me. "I think you should just ask him out, Lois."
"Maybe you're right, Luce," I said slowly, though I knew she was wrong. However much I wanted to tell her everything, I was not sure whether she would truly understand it. "Maybe I should ask him. But he’s been seeing another woman and tonight ... tonight ..." my voice broke. The mere thought made me swallow hard. Until this point I had been able to keep the images off my mind, but now they were flooding me. Mayson and Clark in an intimate embrace, Mayson as she kissed Clark, Mayson ... "Lucy, he’s sleeping with her," I cried involuntarily and heard myself sobbing loudly. Was I actually weeping? "He ... Clark sleeps with her instead of me. Not even when we were under the influence of the pheromones ... he never tried ..." I stammered tediously and completely incoherently.
"Oh my, you got it bad," Lucy murmured stunned. "Lois ..." she added hesitantly, probably wondering if I was ready to make an exception on the “never destroy someone else’s relationship”-rule. Given my deep affection for Clark’s sweetheart, my conscience would hardly cause me sleepless nights. The breaking of his relationship would be no disaster but a liberation. On the other hand, I was not sure that I really stood a chance. "... Don’t forget: it isn’t over until you give up." I might have told her that a couple of times, and to hear it was comforting.
"Thank you, Luce," I said softly. "You’ve helped me a lot."
"You're welcome. I'm always there for you, Lois. Call me at any time you want to talk,” my sister replied. I wondered how I could have ever called her names. Sometimes, she was closer to me than anyone else in this world. "I would like to keep talking to you, but I have to go. Is that okay?" Lucy asked cautiously.
"Yes, of course," I replied immediately, both sad and relieved that the conversation was over. I did not know exactly what I had hoped to gain from talking to Lucy. It was not as if she could offer a solution to my problems. But she had given me some comfort, and that was actually more than I expected, given the circumstances. "Thank you for calling, Luce. Take care."
"Keep me posted, Lois," my sister made me promise. Then she told me her new phone number, before we finally ended our conversation.
I stared at the phone in my hand, none the wiser. But at least it was not just my imagination telling me that Clark had once had feelings for me. If only he still did, I thought wistfully, before I hung up as well. For what seemed like an eternity, I paced my apartment until I finally got into bed for some much needed rest. I stared blankly at the ceiling and tried to sleep. Ages went by before I eventually drifted off.
The bed buckled under Clark’s weight as he sat down next to me. Heat spread through my arm as he whispered a kiss onto my bare skin. Gentle strokes of his hand brushed my side, while he slowly kissed his way across my arm. A soft whiff of his breath tickled against the crook of my neck. Clark knew I loved this feeling and he took his time, increasing the pleasure. I indulged in the gentle sucking of his mouth. The feeling was electrifying, and my fingers tingled with desire to explore his body just as thoroughly. I wanted to hug him, wanted to feel his warmth and the weight of his body on mine. He did not let me, though, but unwaveringly sought his way to my lips.
"Lois," he murmured against my mouth.
His lips parted and gently touched mine. He paused for a moment teasing me with the play of his tender tongue. Every contact was promising, but way too brief to assuage my growing desire. His hands began to caress my skin, so tenderly, that it was almost tickling. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer, felt his body on mine. Clark's kiss was getting more and more intense, hungry. His tongue explored my mouth, dancing with mine as they met.
Slowly my hands moved over his shoulders. I felt the play of his firm muscles beneath his shirt. I easily found my way under the fabric to touch his warm, soft skin. Clark broke the kiss and let me strip the shirt off his shoulders, until his chest was completely revealed. For a moment I stared at his body in mere admiration.
"You're beautiful," he said softly, brushing a strand of my hair out of my face. "So beautiful," he whispered in awe.
I enjoyed the way he looked at me. He smiled at me lovingly, as his eyes rested on me. I wanted to drown in those eyes. Their dark brown caught me, fascinated me, making me virtually breathless. Where his hand had touched my face, my skin tingled. I wanted to feel more of him, more than just this light touch.
"Clark," I said eagerly and stretched out my hand.
My fingers slid over his lips and he started nibbling at them. A smile spread across his face. With one hand he pulled the strap of my nightgown from my shoulders and started kissing me there. Slowly, his lips traveled down my chest. I sighed contentedly and felt a pleasant tingle spread across my whole skin. Every inch of me seemed more sensitive than usual. I savored every single touch, and nothing else mattered.
"Lois," Clark whispered in a hoarse voice that was almost an octave deeper than usual. "I love you ...." Even though his breath came in ragged gasps, his words sounded like a solemn promise. He looked deeply into my eyes, paused for a moment, his eyes almost begging me to believe him. "... so much."
I nodded and smiled happily. "I know."
"No, no, you don’t," he said breathlessly. His eyes darkened, or was it the just the twilight of my apartment? "You don’t," he repeated and pain crept into his voice.
His kisses became desperate, his tongue demanding. I felt his fingers sliding over my body, warm and loving, but not quite as patient as before.
Suddenly, Clark was gone and I found myself alone in bed.
Awakening from sleep, I had to accept that none of this had happened. I was still alone. My ragged breath and the burning, unfulfilled desire were very real, though. Resigned, I sank back down onto the pillows. That was not the first dream of this kind and I had the distinct feeling that it would not remain the last one. As much as I liked the content of my fantasies, they would remain unfulfilled. And I had to count myself lucky, tonight. Sometimes these led Clark and me much further, until waking up to the cruel reality of our relationship became unbearable.
A glance at my alarm clock told me that dawn was not going to be anytime soon. I got up restlessly, because I knew from experience that it was difficult falling asleep after one of these dreams. Mostly it helped to distract myself for a while. After a quick look at my TV, I opted for the kitchen. Maybe it was not the best idea, but chocolate ice cream was still the only true cure for heartache.
While I took my robe off the hook, I wondered when these special kind of erotic fantasies had begun. I could not think of a particular date, though. It was more like a period, when friendly affection had turned into detachment to finally become aversion, on Clark’s side anyway. For me, things had unfortunately been just the other way round – which had put me right in the middle of my own personal hell.
With shoulders slumped, I crept to the refrigerator. When I opened it, I remembered that I had already used up the last chocolate chip ice cream in the previous night. I cursed, first under my breath and then loud enough for all my neighbors to hear.
"Bloody hell. How am I supposed to get on like this?" I wrestled with my destiny. Another dream like this, Clark in the same hotel room and no chocolate chip ice cream in sight – I was bound to lose my mind. If that had not already happened, that was. "Lois Lane, you have to forget about that partner of yours!" I tried to encourage myself. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
to be continued...
