Lois took a seat on the couch. It was somehow more soothing than she had imagined it to be. Something about it was…comfortable. Almost inviting. It was funny how a couch could do that. But that was all she was going to do. Sit. Sitting was fine. Going beyond sitting meant too much comfort. Too much comfort meant too much talking. Too much talking would…be very, very bad.
Her psychologist sat in a chair in front of her. Lois couldn't help but notice a run in her pantyhose, numerous scuffs on her stilettos, and a portion of her skirt where the hem had come loose. How could Lois trust herself to a woman who couldn't even take care of herself?
Lois shifted to lean against the pillow end of the couch while her doctor got the clipboard ready. The doc's glasses had fallen down to the end of her nose, and Lois could see the reflection of the ceiling fan within the lenses. Feeling awkward, she drove her attention to other parts of the room, looking for something better to occupy her time. She snarled at a bookshelf of all-too-long psychological-looking literature, stared at a particularly stupid looking goldfish, and watched a piece of paper under a paperweight flap around under the force of the ceiling fan. A Snickers sounded much more entertaining.
"Miss Lane," her doctor started, and Lois jumped a little at being brought back to reality. "As you know, you were recommended to come and see me by your fellow work associates. It seems those you work with at the Daily Planet care about you very much."
"Sometimes," Lois responded, watching the ceiling fan so she didn't have to look at the doc's face. "And sometimes they don't seem to care at all. Sometimes it's like I work with complete strangers. What's your name again? Let's not be strangers."
The doc raised an eyebrow. "Dr. Kelser."
Lois nodded. "Kelser, okay."
"Yes. Now, I was told that you have developed a tendency to ramble, usually about abstract things so broad no one can ever figure out exactly what you're talking about. I think I'm starting to understand the picture."
"Listen, the only reason it's abstract -- and what they don't seem to understand -- is that it's my personal life, and I have absolutely no reason to share my personal life with anybody. Anybody! My personal life is best kept to myself, inside my own heart, and locked away."
"Locked away…" she repeated, writing on her clipboard as she did so. Dr. Kelser's tongue ended up at the side of her mouth, very much in the same fashion that Lois' did when she was concentrating hard. Maybe she required that much concentration; Lois would have been less than surprised.
Had she remembered that Kit Kat?
They passed a few seconds in silence, Lois being too stubborn to keep going, Dr. Kelser obviously waiting for her to do so. But no, Lois knew that if she kept going, it would only lead to spilling more than intended. Dr. Kelser could make the next move.
After deciding it was awkward enough, she did just that. "Tell me, Lois, why do want to keep your heart locked away? Why is better to throw away the key than say…wearing it on your sleeve?"
Lois stared at her as if she was crazy. "Wearing it on my sleeve?" Lois laughed. "Do you have any idea how torn up my heart would be if I left it exposed, if I didn't hide it?"
"Someone injured it recently, didn't they, Lois? This is a defensive reaction, a fairly fresh one judging by your reaction."
"Reaction? No! No, this is -- this has been a long-standing precaution. I know what's better for me. I know that it's better for me is keeping it locked away, hidden, out of reach." Lois felt her arm slide down a bit on the couch. She was no longer propped against it; her shoulders were now slumped to the pillow end, and she was quickly losing ground on her back.
Dr. Kelser wrote down a few more notes. "Well, since this has been so long-standing and you seem to think it is normal behavior, let's talk about your noted abnormal activity. I would appreciate it if you could explain your sudden increase in chocolate intake."
"Chocolate intake?" Lois laughed, but swallowed hard. She'd left that 100 Grand out in the car, hadn't she? There was no way it would edible by the time she got out and back to work. Terrible waste of a candy bar.
"Yes, Lois, your chocolate intake. A number of the people you work with have noticed that you have been consuming a great deal more chocolate within the last two months."
Lois snorted. "Of come on, that's ridiculous. No one pays attention to that."
Dr. Kelser pulled out a list, and Lois stared at it, her eyes a little wild. Kelser unfolded the paper, switching her legs to be crossed the other direction; the run got longer. "Note from vending machine serviceman: chocolate ice cream selling out over twice as fast as before. Note from front desk: Lois Lane receiving triple the cases of chocolate over the last three weeks. Perry White: chocolate smudged copy at least once a week. Jimmy Olsen: slipped on four candy wrappers in vicinity of Lois' desk within the last two weeks. Clark Kent: Chocolate found on keyboard; no one but Lois uses my desk. Katherine Grant: Lois looks fat."
"What?! I do not!"
"You're only going to object to Miss Grant's comment?"
Lois opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the heart to argue. She knew that her chocolate consumption had greatly gone up; anybody could see that, and obviously everybody had. Lois felt her head fall back against the couch; she was down on the couch, and without the heart to actually bother to get up and stop herself. "I've been eating too much chocolate."
"Why so much more chocolate?"
Lois focused her sight on the ceiling fan, blinking to try and catch individual blades. "It wasn't a conscious choice," she said quietly. "There was one afternoon, one of those pressure-filled days at work when you can't quite seem to find the crunch-time vibe. I just snapped a bit. All the sudden I just knew that I didn't have the full trust of the people that I care about in this life."
"Which people, Lois?"
"Well, only one person, I suppose."
"And who is that?"
Lois sat on it for a moment, concentrating more on her breathing than her thoughts; her brain was, after all, telling her to go find a package of M&Ms. "Clark. My boyfriend."
"Normally I wouldn't consider people who have locked up their hearts to be up for relationships."
Lois glared.
Dr. Kelser proved herself to be a smart woman and left it alone. "Tell me, Lois, why do you feel that Clark doesn't trust you? What has he done to make you feel like this?"
"He just doesn't trust me."
"How do you know this?"
Lois felt her hands close into fists. "I just do! It's one of those things that you can just tell."
Dr. Kelser's reaction time was slower now, as if trying to find a way around Lois' wall. Well, she wasn't giving up easily; her wall was in place for a reason, and it wasn't getting broken down for some psychologist who she was seeing just because Perry was worried about her. So what if her Rocky Road intake had more than doubled? So what if she bought a full case of peanut butter Twix and ate it within two days? So what if she had given up offee for hot chocolate shot with espresso?
Finally, Dr. Kelser tried again. "Something must have triggered this, Lois."
Before she could control herself, before her restraining mechanism could kick in, Lois sat bolt upright. "He's Superman! I know he's Superman, but will he tell me? No…no, why would you tell your girlfriend, who happens to be Lois Lane? Why would you!"
So much for the wall.
Dr. Kelser sat up straight, blinking a little. "You think Clark is Superman?"
"I know Clark is Superman, but he hasn't told me!"
"But you're sure he's Superman?" Her tone was humored.
"Of course I'm sure! He's my boyfriend, I love him, I know him better than anyone. I can tell if I'm dating Superman!"
Dr. Kelser smiled sweetly and stood up. "You know, I think delusions of this nature are out of my league. I think you need to deal with this kind of identity discrepancy with a psychiatrist. I'll write you up a referral tomorrow. Please, Lois, do me a favor and go home and get some sleep."
Lois was trying to calm down, flexing her fingers to unlock them from the fist position. "What about my chocolate obsession?"
Dr. Kelser laughed. "Honey, if you think Clark Kent is Superman, then you need to be eating more chocolate than you already are." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, Superman." She left the room, still chuckling to herself.
Lois debated if she was free to go or not. She needed to check on that poor 100 Grand, after all.
After sitting there for three minutes of painful silence, Lois stood up, checked out, and opted for frozen custard before returning to work.
Chocolate, of course.