A/N To everyone following this story; hope you enjoy.
As much as anything, it stood as a testament to the streak of obstinacy that ran through her like granite; Lois reset their clock, and so Clark got what he wanted. Gradually things settled back to a routine of behavior recognisable as the way things were- before she found out. Days turned into weeks, they drifted apart to resume life as friends, and nothing more. It was as if everything that had happened between Niagara Falls and the Fortress was destined to exist only as the remnant of a dream half-remembered, or, if Clark was feeling melodramatic about it, remain as the bittersweet epigraph to a life half-lived.
But not everything was the same- there were subtle differences between their lives before, and their lives now. Thomas Jefferson once mused over the inscrutability of cause and effect, and it was the unanticipated outcomes of this new development in their relationship that Clark felt most keenly; there were, for instance, the practical benefits of Lois knowing he was Superman. When they arrived at the scene of an emergency, he no longer had to waste time making his excuses. And back in the newsroom, with someone to cover for him, his absences became a lot less tricky to explain. Lois made life as Superman easier.
The irony didn't escape Clark, and it was compounded by other unforeseen, and less welcome consequences of their self-imposed detachment. Lois seemed to have made a conscious effort to trim their friendship around the edges and although nothing was ever said, they stopped working late together, and when they talked- they talked about work.
He also found that she didn't laugh as much anymore.
And then, there was Richard.
He wasn't sure that Lois was even aware of it, but Clark couldn't help but notice, and with a sensitivity he knew he had relinquished the right to have, that just recently, Perry's nephew contrived the most outlandish of pretences, and the flimsiest of reasons to come and talk to Lois. On one occasion last week, Clark had watched in consternation as Richard had made the trip over to where she was busy at work, interrupted her to ask whether she could point him in the direction of spare ink cartridges for his printer when everyone knew there was always an emergency supply in the stationary cupboard, and then removed a pen from his trouser pocket before, to Clark's mounting disbelief, deftly dropping it onto her desk. The reason for this became clear when, a trip to retrieve some ink cartridges later, Richard apologetically had to make a further unscheduled stop at Lois's work station to re-find the pen again.
Clark, of course, was no stranger to the business of manufacturing even the least-likely of scenarios just for the chance to spend time with Lois; Lord knows, over the time they'd known each other he'd faked enough apartment fumigation emergencies just for the opportunity to convince her to take pity and have him over for dinner- even to the extent that Lois, for a time, had been genuinely concerned over his ability to take adequate care of himself. But a forgotten pen? At least he'd put a bit of imagination into it.
Now, having just exited the elevator an hour after running out to attend a road traffic accident (or return an overdue library book- the distinction entirely dependent on how much you knew and whether your name was 'Lois'), Clark's heart flared as across the crowded floor, he caught Richard sneak a glance at his empty chair before walking over in the direction of her desk for what must be like, the fifth, blatantly unnecessary time, so far that week. Clark felt his jaw muscles work.
---
"Hey Lois, if you've got a second I was wondering if I could talk to you about a piece you wrote last year?"
"Sure."
A process of trial and error had taught Richard that the most effective time to approach Lois was when Clark was out of the office. Happily, this seemed a pretty regular occurrence. After a surreptitious check to make sure this was still the case, Richard perched himself on the corner of the desk at right angles to her and adopted a posture meant to convey suave, yet serious. Nominally, his plan was to engage Lois in conversation about an article she had written some months ago which compared the crime rate of Metropolis with other world cities. In reality he wanted to ask her to the Planet's annual Summer Charity Ball.
Perry had assured him Lois would be going to the hottest event on the newspaper's wall-chart calendar, and Jimmy was emphatic that she never came with Clark. However, but only if he had known to ask, Jimmy would have also added that although no one- unless they were drunk and/or had momentarily taken leave of higher cognitive function- dared use the word 'date' around Lois to describe their attendance at the event, it was common knowledge that Lois and Clark would turn up alone, spend the evening gravitating toward each other, and by the end of the night, share the last dance. It was the kind of office tradition that served as a salutary reminder to the newsroom of the importance of maintaining a life outside of work, but made everyone 'aw!' at the two of them regardless.
Blissfully ignorant of the intricacies of the Lois and Clark road show, and armed with today's raison d'être to be near her, Richard enthusiastically sounded Lois out on the feasibility of her rewriting the article for him,
"...Except with a slightly different angle..."
Lois noticed that Richard's eyes sparkled when he was excited about something. It made her smile. She supposed she found him cute in a clean-cut kind of way.
"...And I was thinking it would be great if we could get hold of some statistics to back that up; you know, 'One in five visitors said they rated Metropolis's, whatever, shopping experience, or something, ahead of its East coast counterparts'."
She considered him as he talked. There was no edge to him- in fact, he could be downright flaky; he was always leaving something on her desk and having to come back and collect it, and that happened two or three times a day. Nevertheless, by all accounts he was doing an excellent job on the paper's international section and she had to admit, he did have some interesting ideas. He was espousing one of them to her now but her attention wandered when, out the corner of her eye, she saw that Clark had arrived back.
Richard was saying something about the value of writers who really knew their subject and although she was still nodding along, her concentration had shifted to her peripheral vision. She was trying to assess Clark's body language, running over a mental checklist to see if he was okay, to see if she could gauge the success of his latest heroic excursion. An hour ago they had been in the middle of a discussion about covering the ViroTech embezzlement scandal when he'd stopped short and that look had crossed his face. She hadn't bothered to ask- just told him to go, and then checked in with the local news station. A bad car pile-up on the I-90; fatalities expected. Her heart had sunk for him.
But, at least she'd learned to appreciate the signs- learned that a certain droop in his shoulders meant more than just a tired co-worker in need of a caffeine-injection. There was an element of morbidity to the exercise, she knew, but his work could be so horrifying, and if she couldn't pick up the pieces, she felt the least she could do was acknowledge that the pieces existed.
So it was only when there was a weird longish pause and she had refocused to find Richard looking at her expectantly, that she realised they had probably reached that point in conversation where convention dictated it was her turn to say something.
"Um. I'm sorry. What?"
Richard watched as Lois's concentration struggled to return to him. He guessed Clark was back at his desk. Working hard to keep his voice light and airy he tried again,
"I said, I see you've received your invitation for the Summer Ball?"
"Oh." Lois picked up the cream-colored and decoratively-finished envelope like it was some kind of mysterious artefact and she was required to decide whether to classify it; vegetable, animal, or mineral. "Yes."
"I've heard it's a pretty big deal around here?"
She looked back at him, curious. "I guess."
The conversation had seemed to have moved away from work things. Under her scrutiny, Richard fidgeted. There was a slight reddening to his cheeks, and he was unable to meet her eyes. Lois recognised the signs; the new guy had a little crush. He scratched the side of his face with a finger,
"It sounds like a fun night; very sophisticated and glamorous."
Lois thought back to Charity Balls past. There was last year. She'd dragged a reluctant and protesting Clark to wait with her on the rooftop of the Ritz but Superman hadn't shown up like he promised he would and, pride wounded at the indignity of being stood up- and in front of Clark, she'd ended up hitting the bar and perhaps had a little too much to drink. Her memory of the rest of that night was hazy but she vaguely recalled being led outside to a taxi, yelling to anyone who would listen; 'I know my limits! Cark Klent, get off me!' as Clark took her home.
She remembered coming to in the cab and that she had drooled on his shoulder. He'd taken her in his arms and carried her up to her apartment.
Blessed with the gift of hindsight, she questioned the necessity of him pretending to struggle quite so badly to get her to her door. She was going to have to have a word with him about that.
Then, there was the year before that, when a fist fight had broken out between the Sports section feature writers and Travel's sub-editorial team over a running feud about a misused Xerox machine, of all things.
And then the year before that, Linda from the Letters page got up on stage and led everyone in a rousing and impromptu rendition of Dolly Parton's 'Nine to Five.' When they got to the part of the verse where they sang;
'Want to, move ahead,
but the boss won't seem to let me in,
I swear, sometimes that man is out to get me!'
Perry sportingly stood up and took a bow. So although it sounded a respectable and formal occasion, the Summer Ball probably had less in common with high society, and was more comparable to a high school graduation party.
"It's a chance for everyone to let their hair down." Lois agreed.
"You know, I think these kind of things are very romantic."
Amused at the circuitous route this come-on was taking, Lois decided to hell with it, and gave him the floor;
"How's that?"
"Yeah, well, you know. Men in black ties and dinner jackets. Women in beautiful dresses."
Lois looked at him steadily, "My dress is very beautiful."
He leant in, "Couples swaying in time to the music...guys getting all hot under the collar..."
She nodded, "Mmm."
Feeling brave, he leant in further and dropped his voice, "Everything on the outside so prim and proper but underneath, all that pent up restrained energy waiting for a release-"
A loud snap made them jump. They turned in the direction of the noise. Over at his desk Clark was clutching part of a broken pencil in each hand. He held up one splintered end and coughed embarrassedly. "My-My pencil needs sharpening."
Lois fantasized about crying 'Does it ever!' and vaulting over their desks to land on his lap.
"Don't you think?" Richard continued.
Lois was unable to keep herself from glancing back at Clark as he busied himself with work. They both tried to pretend they were more interested in their respective engagements, and when they briefly made accidental eye contact they quickly looked away again.
"I guess I've never looked at it that way before." she offered thoughtfully.
"So, I was uh, just wondering if you were going this year?"
She watched Clark get up and leave.
"Uh, I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Lois zoned in again and turned to Richard, answering truthfully,
"I've not decided yet."
Richard smiled and heaved his shoulders; "What's there to decide?" He counted on his fingers, "A seven course dinner; champagne; the Metropolis Symphony Quintet? My uncle says you love dancing and music."
"Is that right?"
Richard nodded.
Lois rested her chin on one hand, "Well, your uncle also says he'll consider retirement once he hits seventy and we all know that's not true, so."
"You don't like dancing and music?"
Lois explained, "I like music and dancing fine; I'll have you know I waltz like a Viennese princess, and I'm a patron of the Metropolis Operatic Society." She smiled and shrugged, "I've just not decided whether I'm going to go to the Summer Ball or not."
Richard's face fell. "But, I thought you always go?"
Lois squinted at him, "You seem to have done your research on me?"
He blew out a breath. "I'm really screwing this up." Maybe he should just come clean, "I'm just saying, if you were going, I'm going too. I thought, maybe. That we could go together?"
She regarded him seriously. "Like I said, I've not decided."
He nodded before giving her a small smile that let her know there were no hard feelings.
"Maybe next time then."
"Maybe next time."
---
The rain came down straight and glistened under the orange phosphorescence of the street lights.
Clark was stood sheltered in the doorway of a bar with the proprietor of the establishment; a small, balding, forbidding-looking man with dark, wiry hair and eyebrows, but set underneath the eyebrows were a pair of shining black eyes that creased around the edges when he laughed.
Like a detective in a Raymond Chandler novel, Clark looked up at the inky sky and flicked the collar of his coat up against the rain, "Thanks Stan. I appreciate your time."
The other man bitched back, "Yeah? Well, I appreciate my money."
Clark grinned and patted his coat pocket, "Don't worry- I know you're always heartened to hear it all goes to a good cause."
Stan, for his part, was used to losing big to Clark. But it was still difficult to take. "You know, it's funny. You don't much look like a card shark?"
"Let's just say I have a gift." Clark nodded at him, "Take care of yourself."
"You too, Carl. Keep doing good things at that paper of yours."
They shook hands warmly. "I couldn't do it without you; let me know if you hear anything about that drug shipment, okay?"
Something behind Clark's shoulder caught Stan's attention and he blew out a long, low wolf-whistle. Clark turned around to see. Across the street there was an incredibly beautiful woman hurrying towards a waiting cab.
"Look at that." Stan admired wistfully, "Legs that you could eat off."
Clark couldn't help but smile at the temerity of his friend; "You'd be eating out of a tube if she heard you say that."
Over on the opposite sidewalk Lois, wearing no coat, and evidently caught in the downpour, seemed to be having trouble negotiating what looked like a plastic covered white bearskin rug out of the rain and into the back of the car. She wasn't making much progress however, and appeared to be embroiled in an altercation with another passenger inside the taxi.
Stan's eyebrows lifted. Carl was full of surprises. "You know her?"
"That's Lois."
"Ooh," Stanley's eyes twinkled in recognition of the name, "your sweetheart, right?"
Clark blushed, "Uh...She's...we..."
The exchange across the street had obviously become more heated because Lois's side of the conversation was now loud enough to hear;
"Look, the taxi's mine- it was waiting for me. I was picking something up. I was in the store for like, two minutes?"
They watched her listen to an answer. She gestured to herself with a free hand,
"Yes, of course I understand it's not a chauffeur service. I'm saying YOU need to understand the taxi was mine in the first place?"
Again they watched for her reaction. Clark recognised a familiar expression of indignant disapprobation descend on her face,
"Yeah? Well, maybe I would! Except I can't, because you've squeezed its considerable size into the backseat of my taxicab!"
Again, Stan raised his eyebrows. Lois was pointing,
"And you know what? There's no need to be rude. Asshole!"
"You weren't kidding about that temper of hers." She was fiery! Stan liked her. Sizing up the situation, Clark slapped Stan on the back,
"You better excuse me."
As the taxi pulled away, Lois was attempting to keep up with it in order to yell through the driver's window,
"And thanks alot, pal!"
The left heel on her shoe caught in the paving and snapped off, and she tottered to regain her balance whilst not dropping the unwieldy weight in her arms.
"Goddamnit!"
The rain was hitting the pavement so hard now, Clark had to shout over it to be heard;
"Is everything okay?"
Lois spun around, "Yargh!"
Clark was stood in front of her with a worried expression on his face. She didn't think she had ever been so glad to see him,
"Jesus! I wish you wouldn't sneak up on people like that."
"Sorry. Are you alright?"
She wiped bedraggled strands of hair out of her face and they both pretended she didn't have two dark, smudged, rivulets of mascara running right down her face.
"Yes." She hitched the large fur blanket, or whatever it was, in an attempt to prevent it from falling in the gutter and in the process she stumbled clumsily on her broken heel. "Thankyou."
"Where's your coat?"
"I kind of stepped out in a hurry. It wasn't raining an hour ago."
Clark was looking up and down the lonely street. "What are you doing here?"
She gave him a withering look, "I'm painting my fingernails Clark, what does it look like I'm doing?" With that, and to emphasize her point she waved her arm frantically at the passing traffic, "TAXIEEE!"
Clark gave her a small, indulgent smile while he shrugged off his coat. "Yes- I meant, what are you doing on this side of town," he quickly laid the coat over her shoulders, "at eleven thirty on a school night?"
"I could ask the same thing of you?"
He pointed over to where a neon sign, was flashing forlornly on and off. The 'A' wasn't working so it read; 'ST N'S BAR'.
"Stanley."
Underneath the lights, a man touched his brow and saluted at them. Lois and Clark gave a little wave back before he disappeared out of sight.
"Oh, right; Deep Throat." There was a pause before Lois added unconvincingly, "...Nice place."
Now it was just the two of them, Clark took off his rain-flecked glasses so he could see properly.
"So, what about you?"
Lois shifted whatever she was holding in order to get a better grip.
"What about me?"
"What are you doing here? I mean besides picking fights with the local populace."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yes! Nothing. And I wasn't picking a fight- that cab was mine. I was gazumped! I'm telling you Clark, the age of chivalry is dead!"
She pulled his coat tighter around her and relished its warmth as he stood in the pouring rain. He lifted his eyebrows and she scowled, pointing at him, "You're the exception that proves the rule."
He tried to look round her.
"What's that?"
She twisted away, "Nothing."
He laughed at her, "Lois? What is it?"
"I said, it's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing."
Her efforts to keep the bundle out of his sight kept disturbing it from under its plastic protection and she was forced to keep gathering it up.
"I'm...running an errand that I won't have time to do before the weekend, okay? Sheez Smallville! What's with the Spanish Inquisition?"
Errand? Clark frowned and scanned their immediate surroundings. The street was lined with old warehouses that looked derelict; all shuttered up and graffitied over. He moved his eyes along. There was a strip club, then Stan's Bar, a pool hall that looked like it had seen better days. And then...
Larry's 24 Hour Costume Hire. Clark cocked his head in thought and then flicked his eyes back to her arms. Lois could practically hear the cogs turning. She resigned herself to the inevitable.
"Lois?"
"Yes."
"That thing, that's nothing, that you're trying to hide behind your back?"
Wearily, she answered. "Yeees."
"Which, although it's incredibly endearing of you to do that, it's also actually kind of pointless, because I can, you know, see through walls?"
"Yes."
"That thing that looks sort of ...white and furry?"
She sighed. She could tell he was struggling to keep the joy out of his voice. "Is it...is that a giant rabbit suit?"
Dignified. Dignified was definitely the way to go; "No, actually. It's not."
Clark scratched his jaw, "Because it's just that I could swear I can see a couple of big, floppy ears there-"
"-Not that it's of any interest to you..."
"-and, unless I'm very much mistaken,"
"...Or, in fact, any of your business..."
He peered closer to check, "-that looks like a cute little fluffy bobtail?"
"...Mister 'Why don't you just butt out of things that have very little to do with you' McSnoopypants."
"-Are those paws?"
Lois huffed irritably, "Oh for crying out loud. It's an Easter Bunny costume, okay? Happy? TAXAY!"
"Easter. Bunny?"
"That's what I just said."
Clark put his hands in his pockets and swayed on his feet.
"Easter, Bunny."
"Yes, the Easter Bunny. See Clark, here on Earth, we have these quaint little traditions. You may not have heard of them, what with you being an alien invader and everything."
"Yeah, I've actually heard of the Easter Bunny, Lois..."
She continued "I mean, I realize it must be difficult for you, coming from a culture that struggles with the notions of personal happiness and, you know, having fun."
"...and in fact many of your other 'quaint little traditions'; I was, afterall, Smallville Easter Egg Hunt Champion two years in a row."
"Wow," Lois deadpanned, "If you win three times in a row, do you get to keep the trophy?"
"So, what I'm wondering at is you being in possession of an Easter Bunny costume?"
"What kind of events did you celebrate on your planet, anyway? National Busybody Day? Get-Your-Big-Nose-Out-Of-My-Face Week?"
"Ah, making flippant remarks about my home world and entire civilisation that is completely destroyed and lost for all time; a cunning but ultimately futile attempt to try and change the subject."
She rolled her eyes. "If you must know, it's for a story."
Clark looked at her and didn't bother keeping the note of scepticism out of his voice. "Really?"
She insisted, "Yes. I'm going undercover to expose the plight ... of ...costumed mascots...hired for ...special occasions; they're paid below minimum wage; work conditions are terrible- they get all hot inside, and you've just got the tiny mouth-hole to breath through, and that's obscured by the teeth...and it's difficult to pee."
Clark remained silent. She finished, informing him confidently,
"It's really terrible, and a grossly under-reported area of labor exploitation."
"You're hiring a bunny costume," he narrowed his eyes, "for a story?"
"Yes."
"A story?"
She flicked her hair from beneath his collar, "It's this thing that journalists do sometimes."
Clark coughed nervously, "Because it's just..."
Lois looked up to find Clark looking uncomfortable.
"I know it's your sister's party this weekend, and I thought...I mean, I just wondered, if it might have something to do..."
"TAXI! GOD, the transportation system in this city is pathetic."
Clark dipped his head. She was looking down the street, facing away from him.
"Would you like a ride home?"
She didn't answer right away. Then her back said, "No, it's fine. Thankyou."
He watched her determinedly trying to hail a cab with one hand and hold onto to her bunny suit with the other. Because of her shoe, she was stood at a skew-whiff angle. She was completely drenched.
He shouted over, "My rates are excellent? And I'd never dream about gazumping you. Although that does sound like it might be fun."
She turned to him and he offered her a lopsided smile.
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"C'mon, you're soaked." He gestured at her, "And you're ruining your rabbit suit."
"It's a bunnycostume" she replied testily but he could see she was trying not to smile back.
"We either fly home together or we wait and share a cab where I can lecture you on the historical origins of Easter; your choice."
"I don't know..."
"The name 'Easter' is thought to derive from pagan culture, where there are accounts of spring festivals held in honor of the Anglo-Saxon goddess of fertility and rebirth; 'Eostre.' That's spelt; E O S T R E. And in Old High German mythology..."
"Okay! Okay! I give in!"
Closing one eye she scrunched her nose at him.
"You're incorrigible, you know that?"
---
For the first time since the last time they had been at the Fortress, Clark flew her home. He hadn't bothered to change and so when he gently set her down on her balcony she had to remove her arms from where they had been wrapped underneath his jacket- comfortable and warm and happily nestled around his waist. She reluctantly drew back and he handed over her neatly folded costume. The rain had stopped.
"Thankyou." She suddenly remembered she was wearing his coat, and let it fall from her shoulders to give back to him.
"And thanks for this. Oh, wait a second." Clark frowned as she disappeared off inside. His face cleared as she came back through her doors and handed him his other coat, the one he'd left that night. She smiled softly, "I'm collecting them."
He chuckled. "Thanks."
Clearing her throat, she tucked a frizzed out curl behind an ear, "Uh, you know, you could come in- let your clothes dry off a little...?"
He gazed at her, and where he was usually so inscrutable, she could see how much he wanted to give in. "I better not."
Understanding, she nodded, "No."
She gave him a cheery smile. "So. I'll see you after the weekend, then?"
"Yeah."
She wished he would stop looking at her like that.
"Are you doing anything special? Going back to Smallville?"
The question seemed to snap him out of it, and a slow grin spread across his face, "Actually, no."
Cocking her head, she asked, confused, "What about your mom?"
He was raising an eyebrow at her, "She's on vacation with her boyfriend- in Aruba."
They shared a contemplative moment that began by marvelling at the ability of love to touch people no matter the circumstance, but ended with them both wondering at the wrongness of a world where septuagenarian widows were able to get it together enough to go gallivanting around on romantic mini-breaks, but somehow left the two of them to get their relationship kicks by stealing glances across a crowded office- and only then when they were sure the other one wasn't looking.
"You're spending Easter alone?"
"Oh no" he assured her, "I'll have my hands full keeping an eye on things; I wasn't kidding- it's usually pretty busy- nothing too serious though. A lot of petty theft at the parades, some personal appearances; that kind of thing."
She tucked the costume under her arm making the plastic crinkle. "Well in that case," she didn't bother hiding the tenderness in her voice, "I hope you have a peaceful weekend."
"You too."
---
Clark soared high over the city, just enjoying the view.
The day had been glorious; Metropolis resplendent in bright spring sunshine, and now, as late afternoon melted into early evening, the sun hung low in a cloudless sky. The parades were over and had passed mostly without incident. A couple of pick pockets to deliver into the hands of police officers, here and there. A few lost children to return- and one lost, and extremely grateful, shortsighted grandmother who had accidently mistaken the cabin of a Ferris wheel for a portable rest room. And now the crowds were going home.
Clark followed them out towards the suburbs. He arced closer to a particular street where he could see an easter egg hunt was being prepared. Tiny oval shapes, looking no bigger than pinheads, had been carefully dotted around the edges of the backyard of a large, family home. A specific sound caught his attention and he zeroed in to find the source.
There, beneath him, a figure was bounding around the lawn, taking foil-wrapped chocolate eggs out of a basket and hiding them underneath bushes and between the roots of trees. Silently, Clark descended and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She spun round.
"Argh!" She had swivelled round with such force that it made her huge, upright, bunny ears wobble.
He gave her his best boyish grin, "Hello Lois."
She ripped off the head part of the costume so she could be angry at him in person, and it dangled down her back like a hood.
"What did I say about sneaking up on people?" She demanded. She was out of breath and a little sweaty, and Clark found himself completely beguiled at the sight of her. On her face, held in place with a piece of elastic was a pink, rubber nose from which protruded fluffy whiskers and then a set of gleaming buck teeth.
"So." He resisted an urge to press his finger to her nose to see if it honked or something, "This is the story?"
Her whiskers twitched in irritation; "What are you doing here?"
"An exposé on the under-reported plight of low-paid mascots, huh?" He nodded seriously. "Hard-hitting stuff. I have to tell you, Lois, this has 'Pulitzer-Prize winning' written all over it. I mean, golly;" he pointed at her basket, "look at all those tiny chocolate eggs you're being forced to carry. I hope an adequate risk-assessment has been conducted by your evil overlord mascot employers? Or are you going to take them down for their despicably remiss attitude to repetitive strain injury?"
She ripped off the plastic nose, "How did you find me?"
Clark shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, I didn't. You found me. I was just doing my usual rounds and your heartbeat sounded accelerated, so-"
"My heartbeat?" Lois wanted to get this straight, "From up there," she pointed heavenward, "you can hear my heartbeat?"
"Yeah." he replied easily.
Lois blinked. "I didn't realise your hearing was quite that sensitive."
"It's not a party piece or anything. It only works with you," he explained.
She let that sink in, not totally sure what to make of the implication. "Oh."
A little late, Clark realised he may have done the Superhero equivalent of oversharing. "Anyway." He gave her an appreciative once over; "The rabbit suit."
Off her filthy look he held his palms out to her and corrected himself, "I'm sorry; bunny costume."
In a patented Lois Lane trademark move, she haughtily put her hands to her hips. The fact that she was clad in a bunny costume while trying to look so serious had a gloriously comic effect. Her egg basket swung, not menacingly at all, off her forearm.
"What about it?"
"You know, not many people can carry off a good Bunny-look."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Oh, you're just loving this aren't you?"
"But I'm impressed; you're really making it work."
"At least try to pretend you're not having quite so much fun."
"I mean, a polka-dot bowtie? And lesser people would have baulked at the checkered waistcoat."
She moved her weight from one foot to the other encouraging her bobtail to wibble. "I can't believe I'm taking heat off a man who runs around in underpants and tights."
Clark looked up in thought; "I'm not sure I've ever heard you complain about that before."
"Well," Lois nodded to herself, "that's because you have other...attributes that deflect attention away from the ridiculousness. And you're used to running around looking preposterous. Some of us don't have that luxury."
He dropped his voice, "Wait a minute, you're saying this isn't a regular thing for you?"
She slowly hand clapped her paws together in sarcastic appreciation; "Oh, very funny. Very droll."
Clark was shaking his head sadly. "How disappointing."
She stabbed at his chest. "You know what? Scoff all you want. I'm upholding an important family tradition."
He tilted his head, "Your family dress up as rabbits?"
She tilted her head to mirror him, "Not every weekend, no."
"So." He wiggled his finger at her and blew out his cheeks, "Am I to understand, this isn't for an undercover exposé?"
"If you must know, I'm here in lieu of Hoppy."
Oh, this just got better and better. Clark worked hard to keep a straight face.
"Hoppy?"
"Yes; Hoppy. Every year Dad dresses up as Hoppy the Easter Bunny, and hides Easter eggs all over the neighborhood." She gestured out to the wide open space of the garden. "Unfortunately, Dad's golf commitments got moved around this year, and he couldn't make it. My sister has all the children over for games, and her husband spends all day in the kitchen. So."
Clark nodded, wanting to make sure Lois understood he appreciated the gravity of the situation.
Lois sniffed stoically, "Looked like no Hoppy for the kids."
"Until you stepped in; you're Hoppy."
She touched her pink bowtie, "Hoppy's girlfriend; Honey."
Clark considered that, "I thought Bugs Bunny's girlfriend was Honey?" He lifted his eyebrows, "I guess it's true what they say about rabbits."
"Oh, go ahead, laugh it up, Kansas. But if this ever gets out, keep two facts in mind; that I possess the mother of all blackmail secrets against you, AND I work at an international newspaper."
He grinned widely at her but Clark was more than amused; he was utterly charmed, and as he looked into her eyes he started to lose himself there. She was looking back at him, all flushed and annoyed, and unable to read his expression. She couldn't know he was fighting against the overwhelming desire to grab her by her ridiculous pink bowtie and kiss her senseless. He moved closer and she seemed to understand, because her heartbeat was racing.
They were interrupted by the sound of children's voices. Lois snapped her head in the direction of the house and then back at him. She started to shoo him and hissed quickly, "GO AWAY!"
"Why, what's going on?"
She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to try and push him off. Her voice was a strained whisper; "GO. AWAY!"
"What's the big deal?"
"Get out of here before anyone sees you!"
"Lois?-"
She looked up into his eyes seriously, "If you don't go away right now, I swear, I...I...I... ummm..." Suddenly an idea came to her; "I will not wear underwear for a week, and I'll keep dropping my purse and bending over, right in front of you! Every day!"
The amusement went from his face as his eyes darkened. But Lois was not looking at him. From the front of the house, there was the distinctive sound of running feet coming fast toward them. It was too late.
Lois was still pushing uselessly against his chest when a stampede of children rounded a juniper bush and chorused in heady amazement at the sight that greeted them; "SUPERMAAAN!"
In moments they were surrounded by a collection of small children in a variety of ages, shapes and sizes. Underneath her breath she informed him, just in case there was any doubt, "I hate you."
Hands waved maniacally in the air, as the kids jostled for space and attention, and shouted over each other- desperate to be the one picked. There followed a barrage of questions;
"Uh uh me! Superman!"
"Superman! Pick me!"
"Do you get paper cuts?"
"If someone hit you with a baseball bat, would you feel it?"
"If you got shot, would you feel it?"
"If you flew into the sun, would you feel it?"
"What's the moon like?"
"Is it true it's made of cheese?"
"Have you ever been to Mars?"
From the back of the group a small voice piped up, "Aunt Lois is in love with you!"
As if the needle had been taken off the record, everyone stopped. Into the silence Lois recovered enough to give a high, tinkly laugh.
In embarrassed horror, she waved away the suggestion, "Phoebe!" and shook her head dismissively at Clark, "Kids!"
But Phoebe's older sister, Elizabeth, chimed in excitedly; "She made a Valentine's Day card for you for Valentine's!"
Clark raised his eyebrows at Lois for confirmation. Flustered, she explained to him; "I didn't...make my own card; I was...helping ...with scissors."
Elizabeth frowned and looked up, "No, aunt Lois, don't you remember? You stuck Superman's picture on a card and drew love hearts around it."
Lois opened her mouth to say something and her lips moved but somehow words wouldn't come to her rescue.
Phoebe, trying to be helpful and prod her aunt's memory, prompted; "You signed it 'Love from your future wife'!"
Blushing furiously, Lois managed a strangled "Girls!" She patted their heads. "Geez, I wish your recall for your three times table was as good as your memory for the events of," she looked at Clark and intoned for his benefit, "years and years ago."
Her nieces were confused.
"It was this year."
"Are you in love with Aunt Lois?"
It was Clark's turn to be ambushed. The children's' collective attention shifted from one squirming adult to the other. This was a fun game!
"Well, I..." Clark looked to Lois for help. Before she could answer a young woman with dark brown hair swishing around in a loose ponytail, and sharing a certain resemblance to Lois, appeared.
"Ohmygosh, Superman!"
Lucy. Lois sent up a quiet prayer; "Please someone, just kill me. Kill me now." This could only get worse.
Lucy Lane-Feldman wiped floury hands on the back of her jeans, "We weren't expecting you!"
"Well ma'am, I happened to be in the area, and there were reports of a giant rabbit terrorising a suburban neighborhood; I thought I should check it out."
"Lois said you couldn't make it!" She winked at Clark before uttering out the side of her mouth; "She doesn't seem to be having any luck with the men in her life at the moment."
Through a closed jaw, Lois clenched, "Lucy!"
"Are you staying? We have plenty of food! How about some delicious strawberry cheesecake? Lois made it!"
That got his attention.
Lois got in between her sister and Clark, "NO, he can't stay! You would not believe the correlation between religious holidays and crime statistics, Lucy." She faced the children and shrugged apologetically, "Sorry kids!" before turning to tell him; "Thanksforcomingbye!"
But Clark wanted to talk more about the cheesecake. "Lois made it? Really?" He was really quite enjoying this insight into Lois Lane: domestic goddess.
He gave her a look of reappraisal. She gave him a look of 'You are dead meat.'
Lucy nodded brightly, "Oh yeah. It's sort of sad, actually. She spent months perfecting the recipe, and then this Clark guy couldn't make it."
"Strawberry cheesecake?" it seemed an important detail but Clark couldn't put his finger on why.
Lucy smiled fondly at her older sister, "With ingredients! I told my husband; Lois baking- it must be love."
Lois's eyes widened at the guilelessness of her sister. Lucy flapped her hands at her,
"C'mon Lo, it's not like he's here to hear it."
Clark fidgeted uncomfortably.
Lucy continued, "Superman won't tell him." She shot him a fierce look to confirm that. Clark shook his head quickly, 'No.' Lois's sister was quietly intimidating.
Lois closed her eyes and dearly wished her sister would just. stop. talking.
But she didn't.
"Besides," Lucy gave Lois a little nudge, "I'm sure there are ways you can make it worth Superman's while."
Lois was mortified. There were. No words.
"Oh, Lois- I'm kidding. We all know Clark's the guy you're pining over."
Lois rubbed her forehead in disbelief, "Oh, Jesus."
She slapped her hand over her mouth almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but it was too late. There was an audible gasp as the children, shocked and disgusted, all stared at the adult who had profaned inappropriately in front of them. It was then that Clark stepped in, right on cue, to add,
"...Is what the disciples said, when they found the empty tomb. Just like you better find the rest of those eggs before I do! Better run; I have X Ray vision, you know!"
Children scattered in all directions, running and whooping in delight at the idea of their hero joining in their game.
Lucy cocked her head at this whole other side to Superman. She was impressed.
"Nice save! Wow! What a natural!" She looked back at Lois whilst nodding at Superman; "Total husband material!"
Lois shot her a death glare. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
Happily oblivious, Lucy flicked her fringe in the air, "I'm kidding! Superman's not going to marry you, when would he have time to save the world?"
She used her words lightly but they had hit close to home, and Clark saw that Lois was visibly upset. He spoke kindly to Lucy,
"I think Clark would have something to say about that, too."
Lois gave him a grateful smile to say she appreciated his effort.
"But, speaking of saving the world...I better..." Clark did the swoopy hand thing. Lois nodded. Lucy was intrigued by all this secret code stuff between her sister and Superman.
"It was lovely to meet you all."
"Oh, you too! You're much taller in real life." Lucy gave him an admiring gaze. "And your costume's...very tight...may I just...?" Clark watched as she reached out to feel a bicep...
"Ow!"
She was rubbing the upper part of the arm nearest to Lois's elbow.
"What?" Lucy proceeded to watch her sister's face and seemed to be trying to lip read. She managed a stilted, "Oh, I just remembered I have to ...go...do...something...someplace."
Lois rolled her eyes at Lucy's complete lack of subterfuge skills. Eventually, she took one of Clark's hands in both of hers.
"Nice meeting you."
Clark opened his mouth but Lois spoke for him, "Yeah bye!"
Her sister left and they shared a look and both breathed easier.
But Lucy was back and speaking very quickly- even for a Lane, "Actually, before I go, I don't know if Lois mentioned this to you but I'm on the Parent-Teacher Association at Brookfield elementary and it would be completely amazing if...
"Bye Lucy!"
Not so much taking the hint, as being beaten with the blunt end of it, Lucy backed off,
"Anyway- Lois has my number. Hopefully see you soon! Dale! Put that down! I thought you said your mom said you couldn't eat nuts!"
Finally there were left alone. She shook her head apologetically,
"I am so sorry about my sister." There was a beat. "And my niece. And my other niece. And my nephew. And their friends."
They smiled goofily at each other. "Don't worry about it; you did try to warn me off."
"I guess you forget what an effect you can have on people. I think you just made their year."
He let out a little breath. "Anyway, I should..." He lifted his eyes to the sky.
"Yeah, you should."
He set himself to go but couldn't resist. "Strawberry cheesecake?"
"Shut up."
He smiled at her, all too pleased with himself, and was about to take off when Lois stopped him.
"Oh, Clark, wait."
She rummaged around in her basket of eggs. "Here. Happy Easter."
"Happy Easter, Lois."
