Chapter 2

Clark watched as Oliver drove Chloe away in his Aston Martin. He envied them. Clark would much rather deal with gun-toting men and Kryptonite-harbouring plants than a Lois who would tear him into tiny pieces for the truth. Why had Chloe mentioned the League – and then left him? Clark wished he still had his mind-reading ability because he really wanted to know what Chloe had been thinking at that particular moment. Sucking in a deep breath, Clark walked in through the front door like a man walking into a lion's mouth, bracing himself for the barrage of questions that were sure to leave his loud-mouthed partner's mouth. When nothing came, he was surprised. She wasn't even in the room!

"Lois?"

"Upstairs!" he heard her call, though he also heard a muffled, "Damn it!"

Worry zinged through his body and caused tension in his muscles. Without using his abilities, Clark climbed the stairs as fast as he could, skipping steps as he went. "Lois, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Smallville!" she yelled, her voice coming from his room. No longer worried, but definitely confused, he approached the closed door that led to his room.

"Lois, what are you doing in my room?" asked the Kent as he reached for the doorknob.

"I'm changing." His hand stilled and fell to his side, though he was tempted to bust the door open when he heard her yell. "Crap!"

Her responses were only puzzling Clark even further (and filling him with urges to break down doors). Why was she changing in his room when there was a bathroom readily available only a few strides away? And what was she changing into? Last he checked, Lois hadn't stored any clothes in his house – much less in his room! Plus, why was she cursing every second sentence? Hoping to receive answers from the enigma herself, he leaned on his door and waited a few moments to let her finish changing. He knocked.

"Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"No! No, you cannot come in! I'd prefer it if you never came into your room ever again! Wait, that's a lie."

He heard her groan, and the worry reinstated itself while fear tagged along. "Lois, you're scaring me. I'm coming in."

"No! Clark, please don't—!"

But Clark didn't listen to her pleas. He was freaked out by her behaviour; something was very, very wrong. He turned the doorknob and swung his door open, expecting the worst.

The sight he saw was the farthest thing from what he had braced himself to see. In fact, it was a sight he never expected he would see again.

There was Lois, standing in the middle of his room. He had expected that, actually. But, there was Lois, standing in the middle of his room, wearing nothing but his Smallville Crows football jersey. (And probably her underwear, but he wasn't going to check, even if he did want to.)

He had not expected that.

Starting at her bare feet, Clark's eyes ran up her equally undressed legs, over her covered torso and along her flushed face before they finally stopped at her eyes. Only after his slow once-over was finished did he find his voice.

"Uh.. L-Lois?" he choked out, his voice cracking.

The Lane in question would have found his broken voice hilarious, if the embarrassment in the room hadn't been a two-way street kind of thing. "I told you not to come in." She didn't realise her voice was unreasonably high-pitched and Clark didn't seem to notice either.

"I thought you were..," Clark allowed his voice to trail off to concentrate on keeping his eyes above her neck; it seemed his eyes believed one once-over wasn't enough. "I thought you were hurt. You kept, ah, swearing."

While Clark was struggling to keep his eyes away from the places he shouldn't stare, Lois found her outside voice and began utilising it. She needed him out. "Well, I'm obviously not hurt! So, you can get out now!"

Her yelling chased away his awkwardness, and the volume of the Kryptonian's voice escalated as well. "It's my room! You can't kick me out of my room!"

"Watch me!" she growled back, stomping forward to shove him forcefully through the doorway.

However, her intentions changed when her hands came into contact with his chest. She still shoved him through the doorway, until his back slammed against the wall opposite his room, but she didn't move away as she had originally intended. Instead, she slid her hands under Clark's gray shirt, running her them up his hardened abdomen to his chest. She bit her lip at the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Clark had lost all control of his muscles by the time Lois had wormed her hands under his shirt; so far, he still couldn't move.

Lois' hands lingered underneath Clark's shirt, drawing out the exploration for a little while longer, then slid out. Before the Kent could get a complaint in edgewise, her hands were on his shoulders, pulling him down to her level while simultaneously bringing their bodies closer together. Her lips brushed against the shell of his ear, her tongue darting out to drag the lobe into her mouth. Clark groaned gutturally in response.

That sound broke through her trance.

As if she'd been touching molten lava, Lois leapt away from him, forcing her hands to stay at her sides. Her eyes were 'deer-caught-in-headlights' wide. She had just ravished Clark Kent.

"Oh, god. Clark, I—Sorry. I'm sorry."

Then, she retreated into his room, slamming his door shut.

And Clark just stared at his door, shirt askew and too stunned to do anything else.