Disclaimers: I don't own 'em. Don't you know that already?
Notes: Hello, everyone. Here's yet another addition to the little series of one-shots, which is being called the Out to Lunch-verse by my beloved beta, htbthomas. Due to family circumstances, this might be the latest update you'll get from me for a while, but don't fret - the latest chapter of Underground is being worked on, and will be here as soon as it can be. Enough of me, though - on with the show!
Go to Jimmy.
The note was left on top of the coffeemaker in her kitchen, perfectly balanced on the rounded top, its nearly flawless handwriting – Clark's, she knew right away – highlighting the bright pink of the paper itself. Lois had to admit she had nearly crumpled the thing and thrown it away ('bright' and 'cheery', the very things the note personified, were not good words to describe her mornings in general), but his handwriting and words had caught her attention right away. That, quickly followed by the curious thought of just how did he get the note inside her house in the first place?
She smiled. He must have been picking up Jason for their day together. It's just like him to be so quiet, too. Just like that time he snuck up on me when I was trying to smoke on the Planet's roof. Now he's teaching his son, too. God knows what they're going to be able to do to me in the future. Maybe I should go Smallville style – make them wear a cowbell inside the house or something.
The question is… why Jimmy? And why Jimmy on a Saturday? Why not meet you for tea and cookies at our favorite place like we usually do every weekend?
Staring at her reflection in the elevator door, Lois ran a hand through her hair and made sure the waves of her hair were decent instead of attacking the air around her like they were earlier that morning. Another adjustment to the simple jacket she wore was all the time she had left before the golden doors opened and allowed her entrance to the bullpen. Interns raced across the padded carpet, trying to make their own deadlines while copyboys carried coffee from one desk to the other. College students and junior reporters usually invaded the Planet on the weekends; Lois could remember a time when she was that young, and a time not too long ago when she would also be in this room on this day, furiously typing at her computer on the trail of a great story. Of course, Perry had practically forced her to take weekends off after Jason was born. Now that Clark was back in her life – in the cape and the three piece-suits – she was grateful he had done so. It was the perfect time for them to be alone and together once he had gotten off work.
She spotted Jimmy sitting at his desk, staring at several photos he had taken over the week, studying which would be the best to send to Perry. Taking the note out of her skirt pocket, she marched over to his desk and did her best to contain her curiosity. "Jimmy?"
The photographer, startled out of his thoughts, turned to her with a growing smile. "Oh, hey Miss Lane! Interesting to see you here on a Saturday!"
"It's not something I like to make a habit of. Not anymore, anyway." She opened the note and held it to his face. "Do you know anything about this?"
Taking the note out of her hands and bringing it to focus, he looked at her with a sly grin. "Actually, I do. It's from Clark."
"I know it's from Clark. Why is it telling me to go to you?"
"Because I have something that belongs to you." He turned to his desk and pulled out an envelope. When she attempted to open and read it, Jimmy tried to look over her shoulder. She held it to her chest. "Aren't you on the clock?"
"Aren't you supposed to be at home?" The protest was nearly a whine. When he refused to budge, she waved her hand at him, shooing him along. She refused to look at the note again until he was a safe distance away. Opening the seal and grabbing the paper, her heart skipped a beat when she recognized Clark's handwriting.
I'm going to take you on a little adventure. There are five different locations in the city I want you to visit – each with significant meaning to our relationship. At each spot you'll need to search for a clue that will take you to your next point. Don't worry about Jason – I'll keep an eye on him. See you at point number five. Love you.
Her heart swelled at seeing the words. One of the most natural aspects of their relationship, Clark had taken every chance he could to profess his love in the smallest of ways. She never would have admitted to his face that she adored it, but she had a feeling that he knew anyway. The way he was constantly original with…
Wait a second… where's the first point?
Her brows knit in confusion, Lois re-read the note, thinking that the first clue was hidden within its words. A few more times made her a little irritated. Where was the first clue, and why was he making this so hard this early on a Saturday?
She huffed and flipped the note over. More of Clark's handwriting met her eyes. Ignoring the small flush coloring her face, Lois read his clue.
Here's your first clue – I never fainted; I caught the bullet.
Several blocks later, Lois was scanning a road crowded with noontime traffic, pedestrians blocking her view of any alley she could see. She glanced at several street signs and searched every corner of her memory, begging for some kind of familiar clue. Where was that street? Where was that street
A few blocks further down the road proved just as inconclusive. Noting familiar really jogged her memory. She couldn't even remember what they were doing. It was outside the Planet at the end of the day, and they were walking… somewhere. Clark was probably following her to get her attention while she ignored him until they were mugged. He was bold enough to throw his body in front of hers when he first spotted that gun, and they were lead into an alley with loads of paper and cardboard…
Wait a second…
Backtracking, Lois walked stopped in front of a curving and twisting alley that was filled with bundles of paper and litter. Multi-colored graffiti stained the already grubby walls surrounding her. The sounds of traffic became quieter. The world seemed to momentarily still.
Looking over the walls, she did her best to recall exactly what had happened – they were lead a bit further into the alley, then they were cornered against a wooden door. She was only behind Clark for so long until she stepped forward to drop her purse, foolishly kicking their mugger with the thought that he would be knocked out. Her kick didn't have the desired affect, though, and the gunshot rang out while she turned around…
Mimicking her movements, Lois planted her palms flat against the cold brick, trying to remember just how long she stood there before bending over to see if Clark was alright—
She froze. There was an envelope taped to the frame of the door Clark had fallen against when he 'caught the bullet'. Scanning her surroundings to make sure she was alone, she kneeled and carefully removed it.
Here's your second clue – I learned everything about Jason here.
A shadow swept over her when she stood. Tucking he envelope into her pocket and walking out of the alley, she noticed the majority of the crowd had stopped to marvel at Superman flying so closely to the ground. She grinned smugly; he had been close enough to the ground to help her if needed, but far enough away that no one else would have suspected anything. Tapping the note in her pocket, she muttered, "Speaking of Jason, didn't you promise me you'd keep an eye on him?"
She had the satisfaction of seeing him falter in his flight before zipping around the city's tallest buildings.
Great Wall was a Chinese restaurant that sat several blocks away from the Planet. Lois allowed herself several minutes to fume at Clark's scavenger hunt, wondering why he would lead her to one place, and then make her literally backtrack before even going in the right direction. The alley where she was mugged was on the other side of the Planet, complete opposites of where Great Wall was located. Lois had spent several minutes trying to hail a cab, but soon resolved that walking would have made for faster transportation. Hailing a cab on a Saturday on this side of Metropolis? What was I thinking? What was he thinking? I'll bet he did this on purpose…
When the giant sign of the Chinese restaurant met her gaze – a large wall decorated with Chinese flowers with 'Great Wall' spelled out in the bricks – Lois made a beeline towards it. The crowd hadn't lessened since she got out of the alley, so she found herself weaving through people and traffic to get to her destination. The smell of the orient overwhelmed her when she finally opened the doors, and the chatter inside seemed to have the same volume as the traffic outside. The small place was crowded, the noontime rush having stayed because of the weekend. It took her a moment, but she finally found that table she and Clark had sat in over a year ago. Passing by clusters of people and ignoring the curious stares, she sat herself down at the small corner table, slipping her purse between her legs. A server passed by and handed her a menu; nothing from Clark was inside.
"Excuse me," she asked, politely declining the offer for something to drink. "Did someone come in here and say they were leaving something for Lois Lane? Specifically at this table?"
The server, Chinese in appearance, stared back blankly. "Drink?" he said, holding up his pen and paper.
"Uh, no. Nothing for me, thanks. I'm not going to be here very long."
He sighed irritably. "Lunch not over! Crowd coming in! Eat food or go home for food there!"
Lois rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm only going to be here for two more minutes. You honestly think a large crowd of people are going to come through that door and overwhelm your restaurant so badly that you'll need a table that seats two people?"
He snapped. Pointing his pen at the door, he shouted. "Out! Out of homeland!"
"Homeland?" Lois looked over his shoulder and found the restaurant's name printed across the menu above the counter. "Oh – Great Wall. I get it."
"Out!"
"I'm leaving! My God - no need to get your apron in a bunch!" She leaned over and grabbed her purse, lifting it so quickly her knuckles hit the edge of the table with a soft tap.
What the…? Reaching under the table and ignoring the server's cries that she was moving too slowly, Lois's fingertips met the soft texture of another envelope, soon followed by the slick tape that held it in place. She got her nails around the edge and picked it off. When she held it up and showed it to the server with a smug grin, he nearly dragged her out of the restaurant himself. She didn't give him the pleasure – she quietly escorted herself out.
Once beneath the awning of the Great Wall, she broke the seal of the envelope and dug for the note. This one, unlike the last, wasn't folded. His handwriting was hers to see without any hindrance.
Here's your third clue - I was home for Christmas last year. Will you be?
Her brow knit in confusion. "What?" she muttered out loud. He didn't honestly expect her to go out of the city… did he? Though she had hoped that she wouldn't need to head out of the city if she didn't need to… She turned the note around out of frustration and was pleasantly surprised to find more of his handwriting on the back.
No, I don't mean for you to leave the city. Check your mailbox at Riverside.
Fishing a pair of twenties out of her wallet, Lois handed them to the cabbie with an irritated sigh and turned back to her house. Early afternoon seemed to evolve into early evening too quickly for her tastes – walking around the city, surrounded by tourists and families, had reminded her that not only was she hungry, but she feet were killing her. Whatever it was that possessed me to wear a pair of heels – new ones, at that – into the city should die a slow, painful death. At least I'm home and I can finally get out of these things.
Wincing with her step, Lois didn't even pause in her march to the mailbox. With little fanfare, she grabbed the door and pulled it open. She froze. Sitting in the center of the iron interior was a small wrapped package no bigger than her palm. A large yellow bow nearly dwarfed its sky blue pedestal, but it was the shape and size of the box that caught her attention immediately. Small and perfect, just like the box Richard had given her so long ago…
She reached inside and grabbed the gift, fingers trembling. Seeing the bow was a stick on, she placed it inside the mailbox and carefully removed the wrapping paper, her heart thudding harder and harder, feeling excited and overwhelmed all at the same time. When she finally had the wrapping removed, she saw the box wasn't black as expected, but white. And the lid was removable. With little hesitation, she removed the top, suddenly wondering what this little gift held…
She rolled her eyes. Inside was another note.
"Oh my God…" she groaned. She nearly put the top back on and threw it at the house, hoping he would suddenly swoop down in front of her so that it would smack into his spit-curled head. The tease was unbearable, but seeing another note was an emotional train wreck. I swear Clark, whatever is at the end had better be good to make up for this…
Realizing she had been squeezing the box, she loosened her grip and picked up the note. Reading its contents was enough to make her roll her eyes again, hoping he picked up her irritated sigh.
Did you honestly think I'd leave you a gift where vandals could grab it at any given moment? Go inside.
"I swear," she finally growled, muttering under her breath. "You do realize what you're doing to me, right? I know you – you would make me scour Metropolis all day and night for… whatever reason it is you're doing this, just because you know I get to the bottom of everything that peaks my curiosity. Listen to me! You've got me growling in my front lawn where people can see me and wonder if Lois Lane is on something while I wonder what's gotten into you that's inspired this little hunt you've put me on! And my feet ache. Have I mentioned that yet?"
Her feet felt like bricks when she finally completed the long trek from her mailbox to the front door. Putting her hand on the knob and imagining the glorious feel of something other than high-heels, she opened the door.
Clark had managed to make her freeze twice in an hour. The lights were off in the house, but there was a dim glow coming from the living room. And was that… Christmas music?
Dropping her purse beside the now closed door, Lois slowly walked into the living room, earlier exasperation melting at the sights before her. The room had been completely rearranged – furniture had been moved to resemble a smaller living area, while a drawing of a Christmas tree – one of Jason's masterpieces, no doubt – was taped in the far left corner. Multi-colored lights hung slovenly around the fireplace, and a half-full glass sat on the coffee table. Out of curiosity, Lois took a sip. It was raspberry tea. The same she had at Christmas.
Christmas in Smallville, she thought with a smile. Though the lights and sounds of dusk drifted in from the outside world, Lois could easily go back in time simply by closing her eyes. She was there, wrapped in that warm afghan, staring at the simplicity of a real fire, surrounded by the Christmas atmosphere she wasn't used to seeing as a child. She could hear the Christmas classics being sung by the greats from that record player – Martha's, strategically placed where it had been in Smallville, she noted – while Clark slowly came to stand beside her to ask for a dance.
A floorboard creaked near the stairs. The moment broken, Lois turned, expecting to see Clark or Jason standing in front of her, slightly disappointed when she didn't. Her eyes traveled the length of the stairs and were drawn to the glow of the fire reflected on the small closet doorknob… and she couldn't stop a smile from nearly splitting her face. From behind the wooden Venetian blinds – one of Jason's favorite places to spy on his family – blinked two sets of blue eyes. The larger set was looking at her cautiously, while the smaller stared back in alarm.
"I assume I wasn't supposed to find you there?"
The two sets of eyes bobbled back and forth. The dull light coming from the living room was just enough to help indicate they had shaken their heads.
"So I also assume that you were going to sit there and watch me find this next clue?"
Nodding.
"But you don't plan on telling me – you're going to make me look."
Nodding. The larger set of eyes slightly crinkled in amusement.
"So I suppose I should just start looking?"
Nodding.
"But I can't ask you for any clues?"
Shaking.
"And you're not going to verbally answer me at all."
Nodding.
"Oh, I see," Lois grinned again and took another look around the room. "Because I'm not supposed to know you're there. It'll break the magic somehow, right?"
They waited until she looked at them before nodding again. Nodding her head, Lois took a step further into the room, allowing herself to be surrounded in its inviting warmth, letting the memories wash over her. It was around here that Clark had hesitantly asked her to dance, his desire to change their awkward relationship fully evident, but obviously withheld. He didn't want to be intrusive – he wanted to be polite, taking her thoughts and wishes into account. It took everything inside of her not to tease him – if she had gone with him to Smallville, wasn't that proof enough that she wanted this as much as he did? – but the romance of the moment had swept her away. His warmth was irresistible, his voice so quiet but full of meaning, so afraid to ask if she had any regrets…
Smiling languidly at the memory of his touch, the security and strength he had offered, the kiss so sweet, that had erased all fears and doubts about where they were headed, Lois didn't even realize she had been gently swaying in time with the music, just as she and Clark had done so long ago. The room was momentarily bathed in silence, then Nat King Cole's voice softly crooned "I'll Be Home For Christmas." Resisting the urge to linger in the memory of Clark's lips gently pressed against hers, she opened her eyes and looked over every detail, trying to think where he would have placed the next clue. She slowly walked over to the corner and lifted a corner of Jason's picture, the wax colors gently reflecting the light from the room. No handwriting met her gaze.
"Look in the—!"
"Shh!"
Lois whipped around to the staircase. The larger set of blue eyes had turned to the smaller, speaking in quiet tones she was sure only they could hear. After a few seconds, both eyes turned to her again, unblinking in the light.
"No clues?" she asked again.
Shaking. The smaller set of eyes turned to the larger apologetically. The larger filled with warmth and crinkled at the corners, indicating a smile.
"But it's in something?"
No answer. Both sets of eyes stared back.
"I'm going to take that as a yes." With a sly grin, Lois started to open and overturn everything in the room. She checked under couch cushions, under the afghan, in the small shelving units under the TV and the bookcase… then it hit her. Turning to the record player, its song not even over, she slowly took the few steps required to reach it and opened the glass lid. Why she didn't see it before she didn't know, but taped to the interior was another note.
Here's your fourth clue - Statistically speaking, you normally wouldn't land a jet here.
She raised an eyebrow at the larger eyes staring back at her. "Statistically speaking, eh?"
The larger eyes crinkled back.
"Off I go, then." Pocketing that note, she took one more significant look around the living room before facing the closet door once again. "Just one more question before I go."
The two sets of eyes stared back.
"Can I at least change my shoes before I go out there?"
Shaking.
"C'mon – please?"
Shaking.
"Fine," she rolled her eyes and made her way through the living room. Pausing at the door to grab her purse, she turned back to the stairs. "I expect the both of you to eat your vegetables tonight."
Preferring to take the SUV rather than brave the crowded streets in a cab, Lois parked several blocks away from Monarchs Stadium and risked the extra effort it took to walk the distance in her heels with her aching feet. This is the last time I go all day on a wild goose chase in heels. These were new, too. I might as well carry a pair of shoes in my bag from now on.
When she finally turned a corner and found the stadium looming before her, she groaned at the lines of people waiting in the ticket booths. She checked her watch, seeing 7:30 PM. The Monarchs must have a late game tonight.
Passing by groups of people surrounded by barbeques grills and hearty laughter, Lois made her way to the smallest line she could for tickets. This was certainly a clue that could take her a while. Did he plan on leaving it up to her to scour the entire stadium, or would he boldly leave it in the open for her to see? The jet had been placed in the middle of the diamond, but surely he wouldn't make her spend money for a ticket to see a sport she wasn't completely interested in just to find a clue… and if he did, how could she get on the field? Where would she even begin to look?
Sighing, her gaze met with one of the many television monitors bordering the stadium's exterior. Only twenty minutes into the game and they were already in the third. The Monarchs seemed to have taken a deep lead already, and their cross-town rivals, the Meteors, were having a terrible pitching game. With a little more concentration, Lois could just make out the color commentator's words.
"Here we are in the bottom of the third and already the Meteors have to make a pitching change in this six-to-nothing game. Juan Rodriguez only went three and a third innings, but he gave up six runs in eight hits. In a nutshell folks, that's just the kind of season they've had so far. Their new pitcher, Ralph Branca, has had decent numbers, but not the kind of production they'd hoped for when they signed him. He's ready on the mound, and we're ready for the inning. Up for the Monarchs is their outfielder M.J. Clark, who's batting .350 in his career against the Meteors. Branca gets the sign… it looks like he wants a slider. Here's the pitch…"
Lois rolled her eyes. "That's a fastball, not a slider, Hrabosky - you moron." Her knowledge of baseball's strategic pitches was all Clark's fault. He just had to make Jason a fan, which in turn made her soak up all aspects of the game like a sponge. She really didn't mind – she didn't even know Clark was a Monarch fan until recently – she was just worried about the affect this would have on Jason in the future. Thank God she had Clark, who could help him see reason if need be. Just as long as they don't come to a game shirtless and with their entire bodies painted like that crack-addict over there…
"Ma'am? Can I help you?"
Lois blinked. The entire line had come and gone without her knowing it. Quickly moving forward to the ticket booth, she made sure her press pass was visible. "Yes – how much for the cheapest ticket?"
"Well, it's standing room only now. The best seat I can give you is outfield view level, and that's seventy-five dollars."
Lois gasped. "Seventy-five dollars?"
The young brown haired woman behind the counter blinked back at her. "Ma'am, it's the last month of the season. The Monarchs are in the playoffs. If you wanted a ticket to tonight's game, you really should have planned ahead. Standing room only, outfield view level – it's the best I can give you."
Lois momentarily felt her mouth bob open and close – an annoying habit she picked up from Clark, no doubt – then put her hands together. "Look, let's try a different rout. I'm Lois Lane – from the Daily Planet?"
"I see your press pass. I know who you are. Fame isn't going to help you with this one. If you want to get in, Miss Lane, you need to buy a ticket like everyone else."
"No, you see… I need to know if someone left something here for me. Is there some way you can get a hold of the personnel in the stadium or something…?"
Briefly looking over Lois' shoulder to see the line behind her, the woman grabbed the radio attached to her shoulder. "Hey, Chuck – you there?"
The radio crackled. "Yeah, Joy. What's up?"
"I've got Lois Lane in my ticket booth. She says someone should have left something for her here. Do you know anything about this? Has anyone reported something…?"
"Yeah! Yeah I know what she's talking about! Have her come to booth thirty-five and I'll meet her there."
"Will do. Thanks, Chuck." Joy smiled at Lois, folding her hands in front of her. "You're in luck, Miss Lane. Keep to your right, follow the numbers over the booths, and you'll reach number thirty-five. It's a little ways down that way."
Distracted, Lois muttered quick thanks and rushed out of the crowds. She got as far away as she could without being in the streets, then walked down the right side of the stadium, muttering her destination under her breath while scanning down the side of the massive concrete walls. Several yards down, a police officer stood looking down her path while also scanning the crowds. He stood in front of booth thirty-five.
Lois unclipped her press pass and waved it in his sight, nodding when he smiled and waved in her direction. Quickly looking behind him, he jogged and met her halfway. "I can't be very long, Miss Lane, but your partner wanted me to give this to you. He said this place was significant to both of you?"
Lois smiled at the note he pulled out of his uniform pocket. "Yes, it does. Superman came back here, remember? Clark and I were able to become a dynamic writing team again."
"Well, baseball has that power over people, ma'am. You be safe going to your destination, but please be careful of game time traffic. Cross-town rivalries always get the crowd going."
Without another word, the officer jogged back to booth thirty-five and continued onward, eventually fading into the crowd of people and away from Lois' sight. She opened the envelope and pulled out the folded note.
Here's your fifth and final clue – we met here, I fell in love here, and you told me the world didn't need a savior.
His earlier words from the first note ran across her mind. See you at point number five…
She crossed traffic and was jogging back to her SUV when M.J. Clark doubled to right, the erupting crowd steadily going quiet as she ran.
Because of the Monarchs' season success, it was a little harder and took a little longer to reach the Planet than she had hoped. Regardless, she knew weekend interns would still be inside trying to get the scoop worthy of a future Planet reporter, so she passed through the sliding doors and the front desk with ease, nodding at the security guard as she passed.
Once inside the elevator doors, Lois leaned back against the wall and tried to get some of the pressure off her feet. Sighing softly, glad for once that the elevator was older and didn't speed to the top floors like the newer models did, she lifted a leg and pulled her shoe off by the heel, doing the same with the other foot. The cool carpet was welcoming, but it only made her feet hurt worse. "Oh, God…" she groaned, thumping her head against the wall. She was never again wearing heels outside of work. Ever.
When the compartment began to slow down, she worked her tender feet back into her heels and winced slightly, steeling her face when the doors finally opened. There was Eduardo, the janitor, cleaning the windows with the same fervor he did every night. Walking right past him, she opened the doors and scanned the bullpen. The offices were closed and locked. Only two people were at their desks, and neither of them was Clark. Confused, she nodded her head at the two and made her way to her desk. Everything was in the same place it was when she left on Friday. Nothing out of place. Nothing that would suggest a meet-up somewhere.
Pulling out the note again, she reread it. Nothing around Perry's office suggested he had been there, and her desk was devoid of any clues. We met, he fell in love, and I told him the world…
The roof.
The slightly muggy air was the first thing that overwhelmed her when she opened the doors to the roof. The second was the sight of Clark – wearing blue jeans and a simple white shirt – smiling brightly at her. He wasn't Clark Kent, per se, but he wasn't Superman, either. He was something completely different, a touch of confidence evident that she only noticed when he was with his family.
"Congratulations," he said, his deep voice echoing off the wall behind her and into the night. "You've made it."
She took a look around the roof. "Where's Jason?"
"He's back at Riverside with Jimmy."
"Good," she nodded. Taking a deep breath, she felt her face melt from the joy of seeing him to pure frustration. "I've made it, huh? It's about time, Clark Kent! Do you realize you've just put me on a goose chase throughout the entire city, and for what? In order to meet in the one place I started out? If you really wanted to meet here, why didn't you just say so?"
He opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows raised. She beat him to it. "No! You don't have room to say anything, Mr. I-leave-Confucius-like-notes-all-over-the-city! Do you realize you made me walk everywhere in a new pair of heels? I was thinking you wanted some coffee, or some lunch! But no! You had to make things difficult. I expect a replacement for these! And a massage. Or something! My feet are killing me!"
He stared back, eyes wide and surprised when she put her hands on her hips and huffed at him. "You can say whatever you want to now. I'm done venting."
"Good." He squeaked, taking a deep breath and meeting her quietly fuming eyes. "I'm not actually your destination." He inclined his head behind her. "That is."
She turned her head. In her march towards him while she ranted, she had passed a small black box sitting off to the side. It was the same ledge he had floated from when he caught her smoking so long ago.
Remembering his earlier prank at Riverside, Lois unceremoniously walked over to the black box and picked it up. Looking over her shoulder to see his slightly smiling face, she turned back to the black velvet under her fingers and opened it. She froze.
There was no note this time. Only a simple diamond ring stared back at her.
Collecting herself, she turned back to him and lifted the open box. "This is it? This is what you had me travel all over Metropolis for?"
She grinned. Her deadpan had the exact affect she was hoping for. He stood looking at her, mouth gaping, nervousness taking the place of his confidence. He struggled for something to say pointing at the box, then at her.
"Can't you get anything right, Clark?" she said gently, the teasing tone completely gone from her voice. Snapping the box shut, she slowly walked over to him, adoring him with her gaze. "You do know that the man is supposed to surprise the girl with this. And while you certainly did that," she stopped and grabbed one of his hands, opening it and placing the box inside his large palm. "I think you can do better." She closed his fingers over the box, then lifted his hands to her mouth, placing a gentle kiss on his fingers, hoping to add to his confidence.
Apparently, it worked. His smile was tender, his eyes watching her carefully as she took a small step away from him. Her heart thudded maddeningly in her chest. Though she never would have admitted it to his face, this was exactly what she had been hoping for the entire day. So what if they had a fairly new relationship? They both knew that they would end up together, despite everything that had gone on. And it wasn't only for Jason's sake – she knew, beyond all else, that the five years spent without him was the longest she would ever spend away from him. Regardless of what they did, they would do it together.
She never would have admitted it, but with the tears beginning to fill her eyes, she had a feeling he would know. If the mind reader didn't know already.
She watched his face as he thoughtfully opened his palm and removed the ring from its velvet home. Snapping the box shut like she had earlier, he lifted those wondrous blue eyes to hers, and Lois couldn't help the smile that formed at the love she saw radiating from him. Placing the ring between his thumb and index finger, he lifted it between them, taking a step closer to her.
"Lois," he said quietly, in that voice he reserved only for her. "I have a question to ask you."
Special thanks, as always, to htbthomas, Alamo Girl, and Mark Clark for being the awesome beta team they are!
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