The most ridiculous part of the whole ridiculous scenario, Clark mused, hadn't been the red vinyl catsuit. It hadn't been the presence of the woman wearing it, or the way she dodged and weaved and circled him like a bantamweight, or the fact that she actually hauled off and hit him to add verisimilitude to their situation. No, the most ridiculous part had been that his shock lasted for just one split second before he was completely unsurprised by it all.
It was no surprise that Lois would find trouble for herself. It was no surprise that she would think she was capable of handling it alone, or that when things got rough she would come up with a new plan. It was no surprise that she would enlist him, no surprise that in doing so she would assume that she was the one best situated to protect him, instead of the other way around.
It was irritating, but not surprising.
Chloe would have let him in on the plan from the beginning. Lana—back when they were on good terms, anyway—would have called him to ask for help. Lois never needed him for anything.
But somehow they kept ending up here, with Clark crouching beside her to check her pulse, not that he was worried or anything, waiting for her to wake up and start in on harassing him for getting them into this crazy predicament in the first place.
She grunted in discomfort and shifted. Her eyes flickered open.
"You can let go of my wrist, Smallville, the blood's pumping."
He rolled his eyes and sat back on his heels, knowing she would refuse any offer of assistance. She was fine on her own, thanks. He watched her push herself onto her knees, heard her breath coming raggedly. "When am I going to get to stop rescuing you?"
"You're kidding, right?" She staggered to her feet. "If you'd have let me take a fall like I asked you to, we'd both be skipping out of here."
"You don't look like you're going to be doing any skipping anytime soon."
"Yeah, well you don't look so hot yourself," she said. He put a hand to his face and brought it away red with his own blood. Unusual, but not surprising, considering he'd taken a beating from a Zoner.
She grasped the cage bars and took a shaky step, ignoring his outstretched hand. She shuffled along for a few more paces, then stopped to catch her breath.
Shaking his head, he caught up with her and slung an arm around her waist supportively. She tensed, and he guessed it was from distaste for accepting aid as much as from any physical wounds.
"Like you said, neither of us looks so hot," he pointed out.
"Speak for yourself," she muttered, shrugging away from him. "Where's my jacket?"
He retrieved it, then stood by while she struggled to put it on. She got her right arm in the sleeve, reached her left arm back, and winced suddenly. He sighed and stepped forward. Ignoring her half-hearted protest, he held the jacket for her to reduce the need for her to twist her arm.
She slid into the jacket grudgingly, then cradled her left elbow and took another wobbly step forward.
"You got hurt trying to help me, Lois," he said. "Let me help you, okay?" He braced himself for a tirade.
She studied him for a moment. "Okay." She was silent as he lifted her; silent as he carried her out through the wreckage and out to her car, parked a block away behind some dumpsters; silent as he held the passenger door open for her; silent as he drove her to the hospital and helped her out of the car.
She signed herself in, and they sat down to wait. He was wondering when she was going to notice that he hadn't signed in himself when she finally spoke to him.
"Thanks, Smallville."
"Anytime," he smiled.
She grinned back as she got up to follow the nurse who had just called her name. "But next time it's my turn to rescue you."
Neither Chloe nor Lana had ever tried to make that sort of deal with him.
Lana.
As Lois disappeared down the hall and Clark got up to leave, the weight he had felt when fighting Titan descended again. He hadn't realized it had been gone until just this minute.
Now that was surprising.