Author's note: Thank you to all of you who reviewed. This is my first Lois/Clark fic and I appreciated all the feedback and the interest in this continuing. I'm not sure how long this is going to be just yet, but it will most certainly develop over another five or six chapters at least. I'm not big on rushing out a story so I apologize if there seems to be a wait between chapters. But I'm a stickler for grammar and stories going the way I'd envisioned them…but the characters sometimes have their own plans! Makes for slow moving sometimes…
Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 2: Overrated
Talking was overrated.
So what if she wasn't used to silences? She'd get over it. Especially if talking meant that she'd actually have to think of something to say. At least, something that wasn't broken or angry…or awkward and fake.
Because the truth of it was, as much as silences freaked her out, figuring out this nightmare situation she'd landed herself in freaked her out even more. And she had no idea where the line even was with Clark anymore, let alone how to walk it or which side they were actually on.
And, apparently, neither did Clark.
His face was a mask of control that made her want to hurl a stapler at his head. Usually, she could read the farmboy-turned-reporter like an open book. One with lots and lots of pictures. In fact, it was one of the things she'd loved teasing him about the most.
But there would be no teasing today. Besides the fact that his features were infuriatingly set as he focused intently on his computer screen, there was the small issue of where teasing now fell in the vortex that now existed in the space previously occupied by what passed as their relationship.
Pursing her lips tightly together, Lois' fingers flew over her keyboard. If anything, the crippling desire to hold onto some semblance of normalcy forced her limited ability to process words at the moment on her work. She'd have the proposal Tess Mercer had requested done within minutes.
Good.
The sooner she met with the boss, the sooner she'd have her story green-lit and the sooner she could renew the focus she'd lost on the one thing in her life that wouldn't let her down.
The sounds of the bullpen infiltrated her concentration but instead of distracting her, it fed her blood and made her fingers fly over the keys even more rapidly. A small smile tugged at her mouth as the last few lines came together like pieces of a puzzle.
A wave of satisfaction washed over her as she moved the mouse to save the proposal to her flash drive.
"Pulitzer Prize?"
Clark's voice separated from the other sounds buzzing through her brain, drawing her attention to him for the first time since they'd said good morning. "What?"
Clark's smile was quick, but it had the same effect it always had. She mentally cursed herself for the slip in vigilance and squared her shoulders against the desire to throw the tape dispenser in rapid succession after the stapler.
"Your article," he continued, gesturing vaguely at her computer. "You've been working on it all morning, nonstop. It's got to be something good."
She blinked at him. "Uh, yeah. Yeah," she repeated, the power of her own voice returning almost instinctively. "You bet your life it's good. Above the fold if Tess gives it the go-ahead."
"I'm sure she will." Lois' eyebrows raised slightly at the confidence in his statement. That, and the second small smile he aimed at her.
"She better," Lois commented, collecting herself enough to drag her gaze from his and return it to the computer screen where it belonged. "I think I've discovered early stages of carpal tunnel syndrome thanks to this piece."
Pressing print, she pushed her chair back hurriedly and crossed to the printer just as Clark's desk phone chirped twice. She was getting that rush again, the one that she'd had when she'd discovered no one had broken the story yet. Why no one had was beyond her, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
She was, however, going to look Clark in the mouth.
Turning away from the printer, she collided with him and lost her balance completely. His hands grasped her arms to keep her steady, but she twisted out of his tenuous hold as soon as her world righted itself. The last thing she needed was extended contact of any sort. Besides, he'd bumped into her.
"Jesus, Clark. Personal space mean anything to you?" she grumbled, bending to retrieve the dropped proposal.
"Sorry, Lois," he apologized, waiting for her to right herself before explaining. "Tess just called. She wants to see both of us in her office."
"Both of us?" Lois questioned, tugging on the bottom of her blouse. "Why?"
Clark shrugged. "She didn't say."
Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she strode past him towards the elevators. "Let's not keep our fearless, bottle-job boss waiting, then."
There was a split second when she wished the doors would close before he was able to make his way through them, but once he'd inserted himself in the enclosed space beside her, the feeling passed. She reached for the invisible thread of normalcy once again and found it in Clark's barely contained grin.
"What?" she asked, shooting him a look from the corner of her eye. "I mean, I know elevators are a big thrill for good-old boys from the farm, but you've ridden in one before, Clark. I figured the thrill would be gone by now."
"Bottle-job boss, Lois?" he smirked, allowing the grin to fully take form. "Really?"
She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. That color doesn't exist in nature."
"Yeah, well…you might not want to open with that if you're looking to get that Pulitzer. My suggestion would be to call her Ms. Mercer."
"Please," Lois huffed. "Besides, I'm allowed to call her out on it. We're sisters in arms when it comes to stuff like that. I just went a bit more subtle."
Clark's eyes wandered over her hair in a way that Lois was convinced was designed to take all the spare oxygen out of the tight confines of the four moving walls. She huffed irritably, squashing all thoughts of sitting at that damned table waiting for him.
"I like your hair darker." The words obliterated the tenuous defense she'd been able to craft in the limited time she'd had, and she huffed again. Neither noises of irritation seemed to faze him in the slightest. "It suits you."
She donned her armor and reached for the first available weapon in her arsenal. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Clark. I'm not sharing the byline on this one…so you can just go out and find your own story, thank you very much."
The shift was so slight that she wasn't even sure she'd felt anything after a moment, but his reaction was exactly what she'd been hoping for. His shoulders squared and he faced forward once again.
They watched the numbers increase overhead as they ascended to the floor that Lois hoped she would claim one day. Hopefully, with this new story, she'd start putting her stamp on the world and leave the bullpen far behind.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" Clark asked suddenly, keeping his gaze fixed on the scrolling red numbers.
Lois' brow furrowed. "Calling you what?"
He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Clark."
Tossing her ponytail off her shoulder, she turned to regard him. "Um…because I was under the impression that was your name."
Clark's lips pulled into a thin line and his eyes rolled with that mixture of frustration and irritation that she used to go out of her way to create on a daily basis. "No, I mean…what happened to Smallville?"
Her eyes swiftly fell away from him and returned to watching the numbers. She hadn't realized she hadn't used his nickname since returning from Star City, since the disastrous wedding that stopped things before they'd had a chance to start…
"I don't know," she admitted hesitantly. "It just doesn't seem to fit anymore, does it? You're not a dorky farmboy like you used to be. Don't get me wrong…you're still a dork. But a farmboy…"
"Hmmm."
Lois glanced quickly at him out of the corner of her eye again. "Hey, I thought you'd be glad. You always hated it when I called you that."
"No," Clark said, shoving his hands even deeper into his pockets. "I didn't hate it."
Lois' heart constricted tightly in her chest and she sped through about a dozen off-colored words directed at him silently in her head. Every time she felt that one more brick was solidified in her wall against his effect on her, Clark knocked it down like it was a feather with those damn puppy dog eyes of his.
Puppies were entirely overrated.
"If you're feeling that nostalgic, I could always go back to calling you Clarkie," she quipped, hell-bent on surviving this elevator ride whether Clark would participate willingly or not.
And fates be praised, it actually looked like he'd finally caught on. A genuine smirk crossed his features and he huffed quietly. "Now, that…that I hated."
The elevator slowed considerably and came to a stop at the penthouse level.
"Come on, Clarkie," she tossed back over her shoulder as she exited through the doors. "And remember, not a word about her processed hair."
She could hear his chuckle as she strode a few paces ahead of him, grateful for the distance that the large hallway afforded them after being trapped together in that elevator for entirely too long in Lois' honest opinion.
Tess was standing at the door to her office, a smile gracing her frustratingly perfect features. Lois wondered what it must be like to look and feel that put together all the time. Half the time, she felt the need to rush to the bathroom just to make sure she hadn't put her blouse on inside-out or forgotten to add eyeliner to one of her lids.
"Lois, Clark…come in. Have a seat," Tess greeted, gesturing to the two stylish armchairs facing her desk.
Lois placed her proposal on her lap and ignored the way that Clark's arm brushed against hers as he settled himself in his chair.
Tess crossed the expensive carpet without faltering once, despite the impossibly high heel on the shoes that probably cost one of Lois' weekly paychecks. Both thoughts made her lips pull into a thin line of distaste for her shrewd, calculating boss.
And her opinion only worsened as Tess sank gracefully into the leather swivel chair and began to explain the reason for the summons.
"I was invited to New York to give a press conference on the acquisition of LutherCorp and all its subsidiaries, including the Planet, of course." One perfectly manicured hand grabbed two tickets off the desk. "And I'd like to invite the two of you to accompany me to play interference when need be and cover the story for our paper at the same time. It will be a wonderful opportunity for both of you. There will be quite a few influential people in attendance, and whatever networking you can do and contacts you can make can only benefit you in the long run, don't you think?"
Lois' eyes followed Tess' gaze as it swiveled from her to Clark and stayed on his face for the remainder of the conversation.
"We'll be flying out tonight and take a return flight on Saturday. All expenses paid, of course." When Tess' eyes flickered back to hers, she knew they had arrived at her moment to bow out gracefully and leave the redhead to whatever screwed up agenda she was pushing this week.
"I appreciate the offer and the opportunity, but I have that proposal you wanted to see right here," Lois said, placing the paper on the desk and sliding it toward her boss. "If it's alright with you, and you give it the go-ahead, I'd like to start working on it right away."
A perfectly shaped eyebrow rose slightly. "Of course, I'd forgotten all about it," Tess drawled in her calculated way as she set the tickets back on the desk to exchange them for the proposal. "This is that Linda Lake murder investigation piece, correct?"
The change in Clark's posture drew Lois' attention and she found herself staring directly into those stormy blue eyes of his. "That's the big story?" he questioned, his tone as undecipherable as the look on his face.
"Yeah…it's amazing to me that no one has snatched it up," Lois reasoned, turning her attention back to her boss. "Especially since she was in the hospital at the time, held down by electromagnetic restraints. My only guess is that the recent wave of murders cropping up all over the city has everyone preoccupied and scrambling for the big one."
Tess' eyes flew perfunctorily over the page, raising another eyebrow once she'd reached the end. "This is good work, Lane. In fact, I think you have the beginnings of an above-the-fold piece right here."
Lois' shoulders straightened and she shook her hair off her shoulder again. "Thanks. I'm sorry I won't be able to attend the conference, but I feel like if I don't move on this now, my window will close."
She didn't bother adding that she had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't technically ever intended to be a part of this little cross-country trip to begin with. The thought of Tess and Clark in a private jet sipping champagne made her slightly sick to her stomach, but only less than the thought of having to be there to witness it.
She knew that their boss had ulterior motives as far as Clark was concerned…she wasn't blind. And that's how she knew. Because someone would have to be undoubtedly visually challenged to ignore someone like Clark Kent. Still, Clark was a big boy. He'd have to learn to start watching out for himself on the dangerous mine-field of love sooner or later, or what was left of his heart would be scattered in shredded pieces all over Kansas.
And she just didn't have the strength to be there to help him pick up those pieces anymore.
"Of course," Tess smiled sweetly, taking one of the tickets off the desk and placing it in a drawer. "I commend your commitment to this paper and the city. In fact, there might be a bonus in this for you if the story breaks before anyone else winds up publishing first." Her gaze traveled slowly to Clark, who was still sitting perfectly still in his chair. "Looks like it's just you and me, Kent. That is…if you can handle being away from your partner for a few days."
"We're not partners," they echoed in unison, earning them their third arched brow since their arrival five minutes ago.
"Clark will have loads of fun in New York, won't you Clark?" Lois posed, pushing out of her chair and collecting her proposal from her boss' hand. "You can do all the touristy stuff and get all worked up over a completely different city's elevators."
Clark's irritated glare reverberated off the armor she'd constructed to give her some level of protection against the thought of he and Tess Mercer walking around New York at night and the fact that the thought shouldn't be bothering her in the least.
Before Tess had a chance to question her on her offhanded comment, Lois gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks again for the opportunity. Have a good trip," she said, effectively excusing herself with a curt nod at her boss and no more than a fleeting glance at the still agitated farmboy sitting even more stiffly in his chair.
She had to forcibly keep herself from sprinting down the hallway and thanked whomever was listening that the elevator doors opened as soon as she punched the button. A solo trip back to the bullpen would most definitely be easier than surviving the ride up.
But once the doors whooshed closed and she was alone with herself, she couldn't help thinking that solo trips were not nearly all they were cracked up to be.
In fact, they were entirely overrated.
Almost on autopilot, she eventually found her way back to her desk and began to compile a list of people she wanted to question with regard to Linda Lake's death. She'd start at Met Gen and work her way through the staff. Scrolling through her list of contacts, she jotted down the number of the admitting nurse that had taken care of Jimmy's initial paperwork before he'd been transferred to Star City.
The background work she'd collected on Linda Lake and her mysterious disappearance over two years ago was shoved into a file and was joined quickly by a list of potential interviewees before she knew it. The story was singing through her blood now and she didn't stop until she saw Clark exiting the elevators.
She knew that now was as good a time as any to head over to the hospital to begin her investigation. It was either that, or stumble her way through a goodbye that seemed to be getting awfully routine with him.
Her luck seemed to have been used up for the day, however, because the second she switched off her computer and grabbed her bag he seemed to be hovering right behind her, waiting for her to make a move.
So, she'd make one.
"Well, Clark. I'm off to the hospital to start questioning the employees. By the time you get back from New York, I'll be the talk of the town and you can be sufficiently jealous," she quipped, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and attempting to move around him. "Have a safe trip…see you when you get back."
He took a step with her, causing her to pull up short so she didn't barrel into him for the second time that day. "Careful…" she warned lightly, shooting a quick smile at him and making another attempt to escape.
"No…you be careful, Lois," he said, his voice registering low and solemn in her ears. "Linda Lake was murdered, and whoever did it wasn't caught. That means they're still out there and if you follow this story to its end you'll be putting yourself in danger."
Lois rolled her eyes at him and took another step, which he deftly blocked. "Look, Clark…this is my job. I know what I'm doing, and if I can bring a murderer to justice, then that's what I'm going to do. Maybe he or she will wind up being connected to all these other murders that have been happening, and I can stop someone else from suffering the same fate."
Clark's eyes darkened considerably and Lois could see the wheels turning in his head. Sighing, she readjusted the bag on her shoulder. "Concern duly noted, Clark. I'll be careful. But I really have to get going."
If he tried to step in front of her again, she had already made up her mind to trample over his feet and throw an elbow if she had to. But when his hand came out and rested on her elbow, all thoughts of violence faded for a moment.
But only for a moment.
They came rushing back full force in the next, pulling her mouth into a fierce frown that didn't go unnoticed by her captor.
"Lois, I'm serious. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how things are going?"
"Fine. And you can tell me all about the Big Apple," she replied hastily, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "That is, if you survive the flight with Tess Mercer."
The color drained from his face at her choice of words.
Lois' brow furrowed. "Clark…you look like you're going to puke."
"Let's just say I'm not the biggest fan of flying."
Her features softened at the admission and judging by the slight sheen of sweat that had broken out on his forehead, a few kind words wouldn't be completely out of order. "Clark, everything will be fine. I've flown dozens of times and the only thing you have to worry about is being bored to tears by our fearless leader. She doesn't seem like the most engaging travel companion."
"I wish you were going with us," he said, his eyes darting up to hers with barely contained anxiousness. "You'd give me something to focus on besides the possibility of crashing into a very large mountain."
"I'm flattered," she retorted sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest.
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, you know that you'd be making fun of me the entire time and I know you'd find a way to put your foot in it as far as Tess is concerned. It would make for good distraction."
"Well, as much as I appreciate being thought of as a distraction, I've got bigger fish to fry," she said, moving past him finally. "Everything will be fine, Clark. I'll touch base with you tomorrow, okay?"
She'd only gotten five steps before his voice reached her and stopped her dead in her tracks. "You've been a distraction since the day I met you, Lois," he said evenly, and she had to fight the losing battle within herself not to turn and meet his gaze.
His shoulders rose in a helpless shrug and his eyes fixed on hers. "But I'd miss it if the distraction was gone. So promise me you'll be careful and not do anything..."
"Too Lois?" she finished for him, surprised she'd been able to find any words at all.
His smile reached his eyes this time and the soft look in them was her undoing. She needed to leave, now.
"I promise I'll be careful."
"Good."
"Okay, then."
The step he took toward her was almost immeasurable, but she'd noticed and took one of her own backwards and away from the attempt to knock another brick to the floor like a feather.
"Bye, Lois." His words were brief and direct, but Lois could feel the feather floating to the floor fueled by the focus of his gaze and the slight clenching of his fists at his sides.
"Bye, Clark."
Turning on her heel, she made it about five more steps before she turned around and called back to him.
"And for the love of God, Smallville…don't yak all over the boss. Nothing kills a career faster…"
The force of his smile reached her from across the distance and before she could allow it to destroy any more of her carefully crafted defenses when all she'd meant to do was set him at ease, she whipped around again and climbed the stairs to the exit.
Once out on the street and away from the insane hold he had over her, she realized she didn't really care that she'd pretty much destroyed an entire row of her own bricks by gracing him with the old nickname. He'd needed reassurance and if the stupid oaf wasn't bright enough to realize that Smallville had actually began as a pointed dig, then she didn't feel the need to correct him and use his actual name.
Proper names were highly overrated, anyway.