Title:
She Knows It's Silly
Author:
Firstflier.
Characters:
Lois Lane, Clark Kent.
Rating:
PG.
Timeline:
Set in the not too distant future (i.e. March) after Lois has
returned.
Short summary: One-shot looking at the various things
Lois Lane misses about Clark Kent.
Author's Note:: Right, so basically I woke up this morning at about 8 and inspiration just hit me like a ton of bricks. =] I knew I had to type this up. So it's taken me about 20 minutes or so to type up and read through and it's basically a very short, silly little fic that I couldn't get out of my mind. =D
Enjoy!
She Knows It's Silly
She knows it's silly to miss him, and yet, it's there.
This indefinable longing for him is irrational, irresponsible and insane. She blames her heart entirely. These are foolish, teenage hormones that haven't yet been worked out of her system. She is almost sure of it. It was bound to happen, she supposes, because when two people spend as much time together as they do you either end up falling in love or killing each other. She, typically, chose the former and sometimes wonders if she can have a do-over. If she hated him, really hated him, not this boiling anger and hurt that is on the surface because, whatever it is, it is not hate and she doesn't think she has the willpower to hate him. Perhaps she never did. But if she did hate him, she wouldn't bloody miss him so much. And it's not just one thing; it's everything.
The quirky half smile when he thinks he's pulled a fast one on her.
The way he makes his coffee in the morning to her tastes just because he knows she will steal it from him.
The way he squeaks that damn chair if he wants her to pay him attention.
The way he does not slouch no matter what he is doing or how long the day has been, the straight line of his back never creases.
The way he panics if she so much as hints at It with her flirty smile curling her lips provocatively.
The way he teases her about her Mickey Mouse post its but knows that they are the first ones he borrows when he runs out.
The way he offered her an out after the psychopathic jeweller and did not comment any further on the matter once he accepted her rather lame excuse of slipping the sensor off of her finger.
The way he still sleeps on the couch when she goes to visit, despite the fact that there are now two bedrooms available in the house.
The way he looks like she just kicked Shelby if she mentions that his article is missing that certain something.
The way he comes to her first, not Jimmy, not Chloe, but her when he wants someone to proof read an article.
The way he makes her feel that, despite the fact he has a 6'5" frame, rippling muscles, and a farmer's upbringing, she could still take him on. And win.
The way he strokes her hair when he thinks she's asleep after one of their movie marathons.
The way he danced with her at Chloe's wedding, confidence oozing from his very pore, and didn't care who saw them, what they thought or what they said.
The way she can find his eyes staring straight back at her in a crowd. No matter how many people separate them.
The way that he can tell her off for running into dangerous situations and she doesn't scream at the very idea of being told what to do.
The way he shares his Mum with her; selflessly and completely.
The way he has saved her from so many things; drowning, herself, drink, limitless others. And never once has he asked for a thank you or for her to return the favour. Even though she would, without a doubt.
The way he lets her think she has rescued him on a daily basis.
The way he listens to her and can remember, not just all the important ones, but practically all the conversations they have had and will quote her at complete random just to let her know that he remembers.
The way he thinks he matches her intellectually and, although she would never admit this, she is glad to have found an equal in him.
The way he held her hand, gently, silently, when she found out the General was in hospital for a minor operation.
The way he offers to do those silly little things that she could do herself, but he does them just to save her some time like her washing up, or starting up her computer for her before she arrives at work, or getting her coat for her at the end of the day.
The way she thinks he knows but is just too nice to say anything about the fact that she might be falling for him.
Yes, she most definitely misses him. It has been months now, since Chloe's wedding, and Clark is still MIA. She has not seen him since she returned from Star City and she recognises that dull, stabbing pain as hurt and disappointment.
"Lois?" She glances at the boy sat across from her. He is nothing like the man she had come to respect, even love and she wonders when he'll return and replace this irritating youth that watches her with sullen eyes. In fact, she is rather surprised he has addressed her by her first name, almost expecting a 'Miss Lane' to fall from those lips with the limited work relationship they have developed. Or rather; haven't. She decided, as soon as she returned, that she would not befriend this boy they had sent to work with her because it would offend the fresh memory of a man who had once been her confidant, her crush, her best friend.
"You okay?" He sounds concerned and she understands; she has been staring into space for the past quarter of an hour. Rather than be annoyed by the question, she forces a fractured smile onto her face and wills the lie to sound honest.
"I'm fine, Clark. Just fine." Her sigh belies her previous statement as she moves to type an email to Chloe, her eyes dart once more to the desk opposite her.
And she wonders when Clark Kent is coming back home, because this imposter? He's nothing like the man she thought she could love.
She knows it's silly to miss him, and yet, it's there.
~*~ End ~*~
