Meet-Cute

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We met about five miles and twenty different worlds from here.

I was scared that night. Not because of the rain, or because I had no idea where I was, but because I thought I'd lost the one person on this earth who could actually stand to be around me.

My little cousin – they said she was dead. I didn't believe it.

So I came to Smallville – a tiny little hick town in the middle of Who-Cares?

Or so I thought at the time.

The flash of lightning that came was so bright it seemed to rip the heavens open. I veered off the road into a field of – spot the cliché- - corn. My car seized up. I wasn't hurt, but I was dazed.

That's why, the first time I saw him, I thought I was dreaming.

I figured I'd bumped my head on the wheel – because what other reason could there be for the man lying naked in the middle of what looked like a huge, lightning-designed crop circle?

I got out to check if he's okay.

And give me a break. I'm a woman. He was naked and he looked like… well…

I snuck a peek.

Sue me!

He didn't even remember his own name. I had to take him to the hospital, get them to check him out. He kept trying to leave, and didn't seem impressed with my witty repartee.

I was scared for my cousin, frustrated at being caught up in this small town soap opera, and now this guy is here, and he's my responsibility, and why do I keep fixating on how good looking he is?

I think that explains how I treated him after.

I found out who he was – that he was the link I was looking for. And it should have been just that. A straightforward matter of tracking him down, and finding out the truth.

But, for us, it was never that simple.

He found me at Chloe's grave.

He was himself again, and this was my first real glimpse of Clark Kent.

There was compassion in his eyes, and regret.

And then…

Sarcasm overload. We just started railing on each other. I can't even remember what it was about. I think I told him I liked his mom more than I liked him, and he gave as good as he got.

But you know what?

That pattern – that banter – that driving need to find each other's buttons – it was all right there. Right from the start.

Nothing else had ever felt so… true.

He insists our story's going to be told one day. I don't know about that, but it began right there, beside an empty grave, at the start of our first investigation together.

Already it was us.

Already, it was Lois and Clark.

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