******
Lois hurried inside the Starbucks, letting the door slam behind her. The icy wind gusted inside, jingling the bell on the door and making her shiver. The temperature had plummeted overnight, and the light rain left the sidewalk slippery and treacherous.
She shook the precipitation from her hair and studied the menu, envious of Clark who looked as though the cold weather wasn't phasing him at all. Must be all those hard Kansas winters.
They waited in line silently, still not quite awake. Lois had just finished ordering her small skinny latte - and rolling her eyes at Clark's choice of a large whole milk caramel macciato topped with whip cream - when Clark suddenly began to fidget.
"You know what, Lois, I think I left my wallet in the hotel room," he said, inching toward the door. "I'll be right back!"
"Clark! Wait!" she called, watching him dash out the door. "It's not big deal, I can pay for the drinks today," she finished softly, talking to herself.
She handed a couple of dollars to the clerk and accepted her change just in time to hear screeching tires and horrified screams. She dashed outside, leaving the drinks on the counter, and was stunned to see Superman handing a young child back to her mother. The little girl was scared, but luckily uninjured.
A car sat vertically in traffic, blocking both lanes. The driver had climbed from the car and was incoherently thanking Superman and expressing his relief over not hitting the girl.
"Superman!" Lois called, waving her arms to get his attention. Superman looked up and made eye contact with her. He checked to make sure that they girl was really ok, then walked to where Lois was standing.
"Lois. Hi," he said, seemingly unsurprised to see her in the middle of DC. Perhaps Clark had mentioned their trip to him. Or maybe he had run into Perry.
"Superman. What are you doing here?" Lois asked. She realized how that might sound and rushed to explain. "I mean, it's not that I'm not happy to see you, and it's a good thing you *were* here, but…. Well, what are you doing in DC? Why aren't you in Metropolis?"
"You know I help everywhere, not just Metropolis, Lois."
"Well, yes, but you're usually in Metropolis unless it's something major. And we're all really glad you were here, but, well, this isn't the kind of stuff you usually do in other cities."
"Well, I just happened to be flying over, when I heard the scream."
"You were flying over? Were you in the area for some other reason? Was it-"
"Lois," he broke in. "I'm sorry, but I really have to go. I'll see you when you get back to Metropolis, okay?"
Lois nodded, then watched silently as he levitated off the ground and then zipped off across the sky.
Less than a minute later, Clark appeared, brandishing his wallet. "Found it. Did I miss something?" he asked, looking around.
"Superman."
"Excuse me?"
"You missed Superman. There was a little girl in the street and a car slid on that patch of ice. He swooped in and saved her."
"Oh! Well, that's good. Is she okay?"
"Who?"
"The little girl," Clark prodded.
"Oh, yeah, she's fine."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's just...Clark, what do you think Superman was doing in DC?"
"I don't know, Lois. Did you ask him?"
"Yeah, he said he was just flying overhead and heard the cry."
"Well, then that's probably what happened."
"But why was he flying over DC?"
"I don't know. Maybe he was just coming back from somewhere. Or maybe he was bored and was out flying around."
"Hmm," Lois said, her mind sifting through the endless possibilities. It just seemed too coincidental that Superman would show up in DC without a good reason, during the one week she happened to be there. It wasn't that she thought he was following her, exactly.
But maybe he heard she was going to be there, and he wanted to look in on her. He had stopped by her apartment a number of times without a good reason, telling her he just wanted to check on her. Given how easy it was for him to travel, why would it be any different for him to check on her here than at home?
It wasn't that she thought he was following her, exactly, but maybe he'd heard that she was going to be here and just wanted to check on her. Not that she needed him to check up on her. Of course not. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But it was kind of nice that he was concerned about her.
As they walked back to the hotel and slid into their seats for the morning session, Lois weighed Clark's suggestions and tried to think up other reasons of her own. Did he have friends here? Or even, she forced herself to ask, a girlfriend? No, that couldn't be
it. Superman's home was in Metropolis. And he had never mentioned visiting DC. He couldn't have secret friends here.
So if it wasn't personal, what was left?
Was he in town for a secret meeting? Could it be government related? Was that why he couldn't tell her about it?
Halfway through the speech, Lois couldn't take it anymore. She leaned over to Clark, and whispered the question that had been on her mind for the last hour. "Do you think he was here checking on me - us?" she amended quickly.
"Who? What?" Clark whispered back, obviously confused by her sudden question.
"Superman," she prodded. "Do you think he was here because we're here?"
"Why would Superman be here because we're here, Lois? He's not our babysitter."
Lois rolled her eyes. "I know that. But don't you think it's a little suspicious?"
"I already told you, Lois, I don't know why Superman was here," Clark said. "Can we talk about this later, please? People are giving us dirty looks."
Lois returned the dirty looks and slumped back in her chair, ignoring the speaker and resuming her silent investigation.
She managed to make it through the rest of the session without questioning Clark again, but as they walked to the hotel restaurant for lunch, she immediate launched in again.
"It's not that unthinkable that he's here because of us, is it? I mean, Superman checks up on me at home sometimes, why wouldn't he do that here?"
Clark sighed, obviously resigning himself to the topic of today's lunch conversation. "Lois, we're not in any danger here. We're not even here investigating anything here. We're here for a journalism conference. I hardly think Superman is worried for our
safety."
"True. Then I wonder why he was checking up on us."
"Lois-"
"Maybe he was just lonely. Or maybe…" she trailed off, a dreamy smile on her face. Perhaps Superman had missed her. It had been days since he had seen her. What if he had just been flying by hoping to catch a glimpse of her?
That romantic thought sustained Lois through the boring afternoon session, but by the time they reached their hotel room early that evening, she was fretting again.
"Are you sure he didn't mention anything about it when you said we were coming to DC?"
"Lois, I told you, I don't know why he was here. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Superman has a private life?"
"Of course it has! But he's my friend, and I'm just curious. It's not like I want to publish it!"
Clark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, obviously agitated. "Can we please talk about something else – anything else?"
Lois rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like I'm obsessed; like I've forced you to discuss this all day!"
"You *have* forced me to discuss this all day! We examined and analyzed every possible reason for his appearance. I'm sick of talking about Superman!"
Lois was slightly taken aback by Clark's vehement response, but they were too far into this argument for her to back down now.
"I thought Superman was your friend! You sound like you don't even like him!"
"It's not that I don't like him, it's that I don't like the way you act when you're around him!"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means, I'm sick of watching you get all mooney-eyed every time he drops by! He's just an ordinary man, Lois, stop acting like he's some kind of god!"
"You know what? You're just jealous! Just because I don't get all mooney-eyed over you-"
"No! That's not it at all! I'm just sick of being your sounding board for this pathetic obsession!"
"Are you saying that I'm pathetic?!" she asked, incensed.
"That's *not* what I said! I *said* that this obsession is pathetic - there's a big difference. You're better than this, Lois. You deserve better than this; better than him."
"Better than him? Who could possibly be better than Superman?!"
Clark ran his fingers through his hair again, his jaw clenching. He started to speak, then stopped suddenly. He looked distant for a minute, then began edging toward the door. "You know what, Lois? Just forget about it. I just remembered that I promised a friend that I'd meet him for dinner tonight. I'm really late," he said, opening the door, coat in hand.
"Clark!" she called after him futilely. “You can't just leave in the middle of this! We need to settle this!”
“Just forget it,” he called over his shoulder as he dashed down the hall.
She stood in the middle of the room for a minute, stunned that he would just run off in the middle of their argument.
Slowly she began to feel her anger rise again. How dare he call her pathetic and obsessed?! Where did he get off insulting her like that?!
Lois flung herself on the bed and grabbed the remote. She tried to push their argument from her mind as she flipped through the channels, but his words kept coming back to her.
Was there something he knew about Superman – about his feelings for her - that she didn't know. Had they discussed her? Had they laughed over her desperate attempts to win the Superhero's affection?
No. Not that. Clark would never do that to her. He was too loyal for that. He might challenge her, argue with her, but he would never do anything that hurtful.
She had, she could admit now, forced him to talk about Superman much of the day. But like times in the past when her curiosity got the better of her, she just couldn't help herself from voicing her musings. And because Clark was her closest friend, and the person she spent the most time with, he'd had to bear the brunt of her incessant analysis again. And she could see how, to Clark, it would look as though she had been mooning over the Superhero all day. She hadn't been though. That realization made her stop to think for a second. She wasn't just telling herself that. She really hadn't been mooning over him. She was curious, dying of curiosity, but it was just because she wanted to know what he was doing there. She did care about him as a friend, and she's probably always have a little crush on him, but it wasn't the same as at been in the past.
But Clark wouldn't know that. As much as she expected him to at times, he couldn't read her mind. Her constant obsessing all day must have been driving him crazy.
And she couldn't deny that their interaction at the club last night was probably playing a factor in this. She hadn't meant for things to go as far as they did. She didn't regret it exactly, but she did worry that it might complicate their friendship.
She hadn't even thought how this would appear to him. Even if he wasn't in love with her or anything like that, it had to be a blow to his ego to witness her obsessing over one of his best friends while never so much as acknowledging what had happened between them the night before.
And if she was completely honest with herself, she had to admit that part of the reason she had latched onto this inquest was that it distracted her from thinking about what had happened the night before. She hadn't been ready to deal with it, and she was afraid that Clark would want to talk about it. If she launched a preemptive strike and dominated the conversation, she wouldn't have to face that conversation. And if she kept her mind busy trying to figure out what Superman was doing, she wouldn't have to face the more important question, what was she doing?
Still, this whole argument was a bit unusual for Clark. She knew that he didn't particularly enjoy her ramblings about Superman, but it never seemed to upset him this much before. A seed of worry began to sprout in her stomach. Maybe she had pushed too far this time. She flipped of the television and began to pace the room again.
She hadn't really meant it when she accused him of being jealous, but maybe there was something to the accusation. Not that she thought he wanted her to obsess over him, but maybe he was just feeling a bit self conscious because he thought she was comparing him to Superman. Anyone would be bad if they were compared to Superman. It just wasn't a fair comparison. Clark was just an ordinary guy, and Superman was, well, super.
Not that Clark wasn't super in his own way. He was a great friend, and she didn't know what she would do without him. Come to think of it, she hadn't even thought about Superman all week.
When she had needed someone to play her boyfriend, it had never occurred to her to ask Superman. Not just because it wasn't logistically feasible, but because, well, it would be weird. With Clark it was easy. She was comfortable with him. She trusted him.
Not that she didn't trust Superman! But, well, it was different with him. He was always a little reserved, and she was always a little…nervous; flustered. With Clark, she could just be herself. With Superman, she was always monitoring her actions, reviewing her words before she said them.
And Clark, her ordinary guy, was kind of a hero in his own right. She called on him when she was in need because she'd come to understand that he would always do everything in his power to help her.
In a way, he was her own personal superhero. Superman was there for the life and death stuff, but he wasn't there for the times when she was really hurting – like last night. She'd been devastated by Paul's callous comments.
And who had defended her? Who had reassured her that she was beautiful and smart and desirable? Who had held her and let her cry? And then who had taken her out and cheered her up, making her forget completely about the messy situation? Not Superman. Clark.
It was rather ironic that Superman was the one she idolized, yet Clark was the one she turned to whenever she needed help.
And how did she repay him? By ignoring him and taking him for granted. And then by forcing him to endure her insipid questions about Superman.
He had been obviously upset, yet she hadn't even cared. Instead, she'd yelled at him and accused him of being jealous. She couldn't blame him for leaving, really. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment. He'd put up with it in the past, but maybe he had finally had enough. He'd warned her and warned her, and she hadn't listened. And now he was gone. He'd said he had promised a friend they would have dinner, but that was obviously a lie. He hadn't mentioned this friend or this dinner to her. And they were supposed to have dinner together. Well, they hadn't actually said they were going to have dinner together, but they *always* had dinner together. Lois shook her head as she realized that she had been taking Clark for granted again.
She wouldn't blame him if he had gone off to find the waitress from the night before. She probably would appreciate him. She wouldn't yell at him and compare him to Superman.
She'd just assumed he would always be there; faithful and dependable, that was her Clark. Only he wasn't hers, really. He had done a wonderful job of playing her boyfriend. It was such a masterful performance, that even she had been fooled for awhile. She had allowed herself to unconsciously begin thinking of Clark as "hers.' Of course, to be honest, she'd been doing that for awhile now. But this week had been different. This week they'd been the perfect couple.
And she was beginning to realize that she wasn't acting anymore. At first, this charade had been for Paul's benefit. It was her chance to prove that she wasn't the foolish girl she had once been. But she was starting to see just how foolish she was.
Everything she'd ever wanted was right in front of her eyes, and she'd totally missed it. Clark was so much more than Paul had ever been. He challenged her and helped her. He made her feel adored … special … complete.
But she didn't complete him. He had told her that he was in love with her once. He had taken it back later, but she had always suspected that he had meant it at the time. But now she would never know. She had missed her chance then, and any chance she'd had of winning back his affection had been blown tonight when she frustrated him to the point that he couldn't stand to be in her presence any longer.
She couldn't blame him for storming out the door. In fact, she was surprised that he hadn't done it long ago. She didn't know if he would even come back. Well, he was too responsible to not come back at all. He would come back and finish the conference, and he would go back to Metropolis with her. But would he be the same Clark - the one who was her best friend? Probably not. She had lost him, and it was all her fault.
Lois collapsed into the chair by the window and drew her knees up to her chin. The tears began to slide down her cheeks, and she sobbed quietly.
Why couldn't she have realized this sooner? How could she not see how important Clark was to her? Why did she have to push and push and push until he finally snapped?
*****
Clark opened the door to the hotel room quietly, trying not to wake Lois. He had spent the rest of the evening, night, and early morning hours in Japan. An erupting volcano had threatened a large city, and though he was able to get there in time to divert the majority of the lava, it was too late for dozens of people and hundreds of home.
He sighed wearily, stepping into the room and immediately grabbing his night clothes from the desk near the door. He slipped into the bathroom to change, exhausted, but his mind still churning with the death and destruction he'd been forced to view that night.
He had stopped at home to shower and change, trying to rid himself of the disgusting odor that stilled filled his senses. He was tempted to stay there for the night, realizing that after his confrontation with Lois, she was sure to be furious with him.
And, really, she was partially justified, he admitted to himself. Yes, it drove him crazy to listen to her prattle on about her adoration for the superhero, but she didn't understand the source of his aggravation, so he could hardly expect her know how much it hurt him.
He knew that he shouldn't have yelled at her, but he was just so frustrated. After last night, he could no longer pretend that things could go back to normal between them. Last night had nearly killed him. She had been so seductive, so playful. It was so easy to believe that she was purposely seducing him. It was incredible. It was everything he'd ever fantasized about.
And then they'd gone back to the hotel, and she'd been so sweet and content in his arms. She'd relaxed into the pillow as he'd settled beside her. The goodnight kiss had been chaste and undemanding, unlike the hot kisses they'd shared at the bar. But it was almost more special because of that. As much as he had enjoyed their night at the bar, he didn't simply want a physical relationship. The kiss had given him hope that what had occurred at the bar hadn't simply been about showing off in front of Paul, or about having too much to drink and acting a bit crazy. He had fallen asleep believing that there was a chance for them. He had hoped it was a sign that this week had not been in vain, that she was beginning to feel the same way that he did.
So he hadn't been prepared for her to not only pretend that nothing had happened, but to spend the day obsessing over his other persona. Would she ever be able to see past the cardboard cut out to the real man who wanted nothing more than to love her? Probably not, unfortunately. Every time it was beginning to look like she was coming around, something like this would happen. It was frustrating and disheartening.
So even though he knew she'd be somewhat justified if she was angry with him for his outburst and abandonment of her, he was not in the mood to listen to her ranting and raving tonight. He could only hope that she would stay asleep until morning. By then, hopefully, he would be up to taking the verbal lashing she was sure to hand out.
He exited the bathroom and suddenly wondered if it wouldn't be better if he spent the night in a chair. As angry as Lois was at him, she was sure to be even angrier if she woke to find herself in bed with him.
But he was exhausted and the thought of spending the night curled up in one of the uncomfortable armchairs in the hotel room was not appealing. Sleeping on the floor held even less appeal. He would just have to deal with the consequences in the morning.
His gaze fell on the bed, and suddenly he was wide awake again. The bed was empty and unmade, Lois was nowhere in sight. His heart began to pound as the boundless possibilities for her disappearance assailed him. He prayed that she was just angry and avoiding him, and that it was nothing more sinister.
After a panicked second, his super senses kicked in, and he located her heartbeat. She was curled up, asleep, in one of the chairs by the window.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled tenderly at her. As angry as he was with her earlier, he still loved her more than anything, and the thought of losing her was unbearable.
Her neck was at an unnatural angle, and he winced when he thought about the discomfort it would cause her in the morning. He hated to wake her, but maybe he could just transfer her to the bed without waking her completely.
He crouched in front of the chair and reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful, so perfect. His brow furrowed as he detected her puffy eyes and the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Had she been crying? Why? Had she had another confrontation with Paul? Surely she wasn't crying over their argument. They fought all the time. His stomach clenched at the realization that he might be the source of her tears. He hated seeing her upset. Watching her cry broke his heart. He'd promised himself long ago that no matter what happened, he'd never do anything to make her cry. He knew that might be slightly unrealistic, but still, the thought of causing her pain made him ache.
He reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheek. She sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
Clark slid his arms under her back and knees, and lifted her gently out of the chair. She settled into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. He readjusted her, stepping toward the bed, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Clark?”
“Shh. Go back to sleep. I'm just putting you in bed. You're going to have a heck of a cramp in your neck if you spend the night in that chair.”
“Clark?” she asked again, as if she couldn't believe he was really there.
“Yes, Lois. It's just me. It's okay.”
“Oh, Clark. You came back,” she said softly, burying her face in his neck.
Clark stopped in mid-stride, confused. “Of course I came back. Why wouldn't I come back?”
Lois ignored his question, locking her arms around his neck. “I'm sorry,” she said, her voice wavering. “I'm so sorry.”
“Hey, hey. It's okay. What are you sorry for?”
Lois didn't reply, just hugged him tighter. “I'm sorry,” she whispered again, her body quivering as she began to cry softly.
Clark moved swiftly to the bed, tucking her in and climbing in beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, his brow furrowing as she buried her head in his neck and continued cry. “Lois, what's the matter? Don't cry. Please don't cry. It's okay.”
He rubbed her back gently as she cuddled against him. Finally, she pulled back and made eye contact with him.
“I was afraid you would never come back,” she whispered. “I was afraid you hated me.”
“Hated you?” Clark nearly choked on the words. “Why? Whatever made you think…?”
“It's all my fault. I shouldn't have pestered you so much. I should have realized how much it was bothering you. I should have just let it go when you told me to. I know you must think that I don't appreciate any of the things that you do for me. You must be so sick of me always taking advantage of you, and never thanking you for anything. I just expect you to do everything for me, and I never…I never even thank you. I'm sorry.” Lois ran out of steam and collapsed against him again.
Clark hugged her tightly. “I could *never* hate you, Lois. Never.”
“But you were mad, earlier. I know you were.”
“We fight all the time. It doesn't mean I hate you.”
“You ran away,” she said softly.
“But I came back.”
“You said to just forget it.”
“I meant the fight.”
“I thought you meant….”
“What, Lois? What did you think that I meant?”
“I thought you meant…us. Everything. I thought you just…didn't want to deal with me anymore.”
Clark's inhaled sharply, stunned that she could believe something so ridiculous. He pulled her back and waited until she met his gaze before he began to speak again. “Lois, I *love* you. You are my very best friend. How many times do I have to tell you that before you realize what it means?”
Lois' gaze faltered and she looked away. “I know but…. I thought maybe you didn't love me anymore. That I pushed you away.”
Clark sighed and cupped her cheek with his hand, silently urging him to look at him again. “Do you remember what I told you that night on the dock? "I love you. I don't want anything in return, and there is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you.' I meant it then, and I mean it now. Nothing, Lois.”
Lois slid her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder again, but this time she was relaxed; cuddling, not clinging.
Clark rubbed her back gently, grateful to have her in his arms.
“I love you, too,” she whispered finally. “You know that right? I know I don't tell you, or even show you, that very often, but I do…. You're my best friend, Clark. I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Clark's chest constricted as he listened to her heartfelt declaration. Hearing her say that she loved him was bittersweet. They were the words he'd longed to hear from her from the moment he'd met her, but she didn't mean them in the way he wished she did. He was grateful for – treasured – her friendship. He cherished her trust in him. But he craved her love. Having her in his arms, telling him that she loved him, was the most painful pleasure he could imagine.
He stroked her hair gently, pushing away his fears and disappointments. He had so much to be thankful for. She was here. And she loved him. She didn't love him the way that he loved her yet, but maybe there was still hope. Maybe she just needed time. He could give her that.
“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”
Within minutes she was asleep in his arms again. Almost immediately, the day's events caught up with him, and he succumbed to his exhaustion.
*****
