A/N: Many, many, many thanks to Cloaker. She not only saved this fic, but my sanity as well. I owe her big time!
Part 2b- Hey Jealousy
If there was such a thing as a merciful god then Clark hoped his prayers were being heard, because being struck down by a bolt of lightning before Lois could get her hands on him was the only way he might possibly avoid her wrath. As it was, he was surprised not to see any scortch marks on his new suit- the one Dinah had erringly claimed would knock Lois over in lust- from the flames of fire in her eyes.
His only reprieve was he wasn't the only target of her ire. Apparently the dark billionaire wasn't on her list of favorite people at the moment either.
Not that she could really be blamed, considering both men had all but ignored her- and her many attempts to steer the conversation into more neutral territory- the past hour in favor of baiting the other. The fact that she was trapped between them- both literally and figuratively- during their battle of egos only served to intensify the spark on her already short fuse.
Surprisingly enough, the infamous Lane temper had yet to make an appearance- something Clark attributed to her awareness of their over elegant surroundings. Although even with the threat of impropriety, there was no saying how much longer she would be willing to exert such control.
The only sign of anger besides her furious gaze was the all too familiar clenching of her jaw as she silently watched the interactions between her date and the man that most definitely had not been invited. And of course, if he had failed to notice the subtle hints of her displeasure, the insistent digging of nails into his thigh would have been sure to rectify the oversight in an instant. Clark winced at the thought of her impromptu weapons; had he been human, there was no doubt he would have been left with permanent reminders of this evening.
Consumed by curiousity, he had caved into the urge to check if Lois had resorted to the same warning tactics with Bruce. It was silly, but he was left with a sense of satisfaction at discovering she hadn't.
Somehow the knowledge that he was the only one she had initiated physical contact with- even if it was bordering on homicidal- had calmed him and instilled a confidence he usually lacked in these type of situations, enabling him to go head to head with his formidable oponent. Maybe that explained the mood he currently found himself in.
If he didn't know better, Clark would have thought there was red Kryptonite stashed somewhere nearby, because in a move frighteningly reminicsent of his time spent as Kal, he had thrown caution to the wind and abandoned his life dedicated to avoiding confrontation. Instead, he suddenly seemed intent on chasing it, not caring if the warning bells in his head were blaring.
For once, he was doing all the things deemed too risky by Clark Kent standards- and he was thrilling in every second of this new freedom. Which was how he now found himself in the middle of yet another round of one-upmanship with Gotham's resident playboy- this one of his own instigation.
"I like that shade of red. Is that considered a power tie?" Clark cocked his head to the side, a thoughtful frown covering his face. "You know, I once heard that when a man resorts to those tactics, he's seriously lacking in other areas." Even in the middle of an insult, the manners drilled into him since childhood dictated that Clark add. "No offense."
"Is this the point where one of you whips out a ruler?" Lois snarked, eyes shifting back and forth between the increasingly obnoxious men. "Cause I'm sure it would help speed things along."
Both men ignored her comment, their heated gazes never wavering from the staring contest they seemed to be locked in. Lois, upon realizing that she wouldn't be getting even the slightest rise from either man, let out a huff of irritation and settled more comfortably against the cushion behind her. "Huh, apparently I'm invisible."
Not ruffled by the insinuated slight to his manhood, or the antics of his date, Bruce's hand lightly brushed over the item of interest. "None taken- and it's Ruby actually."
Of course it is, Clark inwardly snorted, marveling at how even a color could declare priveldge. A simple tie in Bruce's closet probably cost more than half of what Clark earned in a year. He fingered his own tie- a deep blue with a subtle swirl pattern that had come right off the rack. Odds were the billionaire had never even owned something that wasn't custom made, and would be loathe to admit that anything of his was as mundane as plain blue.
As though reading the younger man's thoughts, Bruce casually added in the mocking tone he seemed so fond of. "Yours is also quite nice."
Refusing to be intimidated, Clark took a deep breath and leveled his competition with a smirk. "Thanks, Lois got it for me." The implication rang clear, purposefully alluding to a deeper intimacy than existed.
Judging by the response his comment received, the point he had been hoping to make had been more than effective- to more than the person it was aimed at.
It was shocking Lois didn't get whiplash from the speed her head snapped in his direction, the startled glance she shot him speaking volumes. In comparison, her date held a far more serene look, but from the slight flicker of annoyance in the dark brown eyes burning into his own though, it had hit a nerve.
Good, Clark thought, his bitterness over the past few weeks bubbling up as he once again thought of how his plans had been ruined.
It had taken years, but in a moment of startling clarity, Clark had finally begun to see the woman in front of him and let go of the denial that had plagued him since the moment they met. After countless hours analyzing his revelation - and finding out that apparently all of his friends had known long before he did- Clark had finally decided to start running towards Lois instead of away from his feelings when Bruce Wayne swept into town without warning, eyes only for one woman. Unfortunately, it was the the same woman that now held Clark's heart in her hands, even if she didn't realize it.
It was puzzling how such an amazing investigative reporter could be so blind to the affairs of her personal life. He was positive everyone could see the signs of his feelings clear as day- all except the one person that mattered. In his moments of contemplation, Clark couldn't help but wonder if maybe the reason she didn't notice was simply because inwardly she knew the moment she did there would be complications sure to arise. History had long ago shown that neither of them were capable of producing a healthy, lasting relationship and with the overload of hours dedicated to their jobs, the problems with their love lives had increased drastically.
Not for the first time, Clark wished he had told Lois about his feelings before they had found themselves at this point. Deep down he was sure that if only given the chance to explain, without any distractions in the form of suave billionaires, that Lois would open her eyes and see what he did.
Sometimes, he would watch as a tentative awareness creeped into her eyes, only to disappear in a cloud of denial an instant later. Those moments always left the hollow feeling of despair in his heart and the sting of frustration creeping up his throat.
Unaware of his adversary's turbulent thoughts, Bruce casually slung his arm to rest on the booth behind Lois, his fingers gently toying with an errant curl. Tensing slightly at the contact, Lois quickly gulped the remainder of her wine and sent a mournful look at the now empty glass.
"She does have fine taste, doesn't she?"
Positive that if he opened his mouth to respond nothing but a growl would escape, Clark settled for a tight lipped smile, vaguely noticing Lois had done the same.
More than anything, he hated being reminded of the type of man Lois found herself drawn to time and again. Even though the beautiful brunnete would deny it whole heartedly, she had long ago developed a certain taste when it came to the men she dated- and it was hard not to notice.
Not all of them were wealthy, in fact only two had been considered so, but there was always an underlying sense of confidence- of self worth and power- in each man that attracted Lois like a moth to a flame.
They were the same traits Clark had struggled to maintain on a daily basis in his youth and still found himself battling with on occasion, and Clark knew his all around boy scout slash best friend routine wasn't going to do more than get him playful punches in the arm from her.
The lack of response hung conspicuously in the air and silence descended upon the small group, making the tension all the more noticable.
As though sensing the mounting awkwardness- a possibility Clark refused to discredit considering the full service treatment the patrons expected- a waiter gracefully stopped at their table, waiting for permission to intrude upon their privacy. At the expectant looks trained on him, the man politely enquired. "Would anyone care for dessert this evening?"
"Sure, why wouldn't we want to prolong this dazzling evening?" Lois muttered, her soft comment drowned out by the only other woman at the table.
"Yes!" Dinah answered, looking up from her plate for the first time in an hour to listen with rapt attention to the long list of treats the waitor spouted from memory.
Clark repressed a snort, he had almost forgotten she was there. Not one word had come from her direction since the first delightful whiff of decadent food had taken over her thought process. The second food had been placed before her, Dinah had forgotten their painstakingly detailed plan and left him to his own devices- despite earlier claims that she would aid him in any way possible.
Which, all things considered, Clark thought he had handled his abandonment quite well.
A small grin threatened to creep onto his face when Dinah decided to respond with a list of her own, one almost as long as the waitor's. Obviously, the man was a professional, because he didn't so much as blink at the gluttonous order.
Smart man, Clark silently praised. If there was one thing to avoid, it was commenting on the pregnant woman's appetite- even jokingly. From personal experience he had learned that all it would achive was making a very pissed off- and sometimes teary eyed- hormonal woman give him a piece of her mind. Not to mention the frustrated archer that came along afterwards.
Trying to hide the hint of a smile from the memory of that particular incident, Clark chose the least lavish of the options- a complicated french sounding dessert- hating the way he stumbled over the pronunciation when only a moment ago Bruce had expertly recited his own order perfectly in the foreign language.
Remembering the description from the waitor, Clark couldn't stop from rolling his eyes at his own dessert. Once explained, the treat sound suspiciously like plain old apple pie- only with the foreign chef's own twist- and a very obvious new name. Probably their justification of charging more than thirty dollars for it, Clark mused cynically.
Unlike the rest of her companions, Lois took her time deciding; her brow furrowed as she silently debated which to choose.
Leaning his head down close to murmur in Lois' ear- quite unnecessary in Clark's opinion- Bruce smoothly voiced his suggestion. "Try the Fondant aux Poires et au Gingembre. They're famous for it."
Clark bit back a retort that she could choose her own food, but somehow found himself instead making a suggestion of his own. "You should get what I ordered."
Lois arched a perfect brow at both men while Dinah nodded enthusiastically in support of each suggestion made.
All the attention now focused on him paired with the all too knowing smirk that seemed to have found permanent residence on the other man's face caused Clark to squirm in his seat, prompting him to add lamly. "Nothing like good old apple pie…"
Rolling his eyes at himself, Clark noticed that Lois was in the process of doing the same. Suddenly, he felt as though he had walked into some sort of trap- and from the mirth in Bruce's eyes, he had.
"It's her favorite." Clark informed the other man in an attempt to regain his footing, a newfound smugness radiating from him at being the one to know such a prized piece of informaton. "Has been for years."
"That may be true, but plain old pie can get so boring."
"Some things are impossible to get tired of." Clark bit out, not quite understanding just why he was growing so defensive of his food of choice, but unable to let the slight pass without some rebuke.
A distracted smile touched Clark's lips for a brief moment; his hearing picking up the barely audible mumbling coming from the woman beside him as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, good. A healthy debate about pie- just what the night's been missing…"
"Maybe." Bruce replied, his lips tilting upward. Clark was really starting to hate how the billionare always had the look of a man that knew a secret- one he found far to amusing to share with everyone else. "Then again, she could be the mood for something new- the adventurous."
In one fell swoop, Clark's newfound confidence of the night was battered, and shaking from the impact of the other man's words. Unwilling to reveal the chip in his armor for even a moment, Clark responded heatedly. If his words were more defensive then witty, he didn't care. "Well it might be fun for awhile, but it won't last. Never does and-"
If either man would have bothered to look at the woman in question, they may not have been so eager to continue their game of one-upmanship, but both men were far too busy glaring at the other to notice much of anything at the moment.
Apparently realizing that they would continue this ridiculous debate indefinitely if allowed to, Lois decided to take matters into her own hands, declaring in a harsh tone. "-And maybe she can choose her own food!"
Two pairs of startled eyes landed on her, as though they had forgotten about their reluctant audience. Lois gritted her teeth at once again being relegated to the sidelines. Pointedly ignoring the men on either side of her, she sent the waiter a strained smile "I'll have the Moelleux au Chocolat."
Before the wide eyed waitor could so much as take a step, her hand was clutching his sleeve in a desperate grasp- her body half draped over Clark's in order to reach him. "Keep the wine coming."
More than a pang of disappointment filled Clark as Lois quickly returned to her previous position, no longer practically sitting on his lap. He had probably enjoyed it a little too much anyway, considering she was ready to claw his eyes out- and he should've been thankful that she had moved before the situation turned mortifying. Still, those rare moments when she was pressed close were too few and far between- and as a begger, he couldn't afford to be a chooser.
On a normal day, he might have taken the opportunity her nearness presented and draped a casual- and always pointedly platonic- arm around her shoulder. But today wasn't just another day- and even such a simple gesture would not be received well. Especially with his intentions no longer firmly filed away in the box labeled friend.
Not willing to draw undue attention to himself and be put in her line of fire, he snuck a closer look at her from the corner of his eye and winced.
Judging from the continous grinding of her teeth- a habit that both chagrined her dentist and warned her friends of impending doom- Lois was deep in thought and not at all happy about the conclusions she was coming to. From his behavior tonight, Clark could only guess what was running through that whirlwind mind of hers- and honestly wasn't even sure he wanted to know, but he would be willing to lay his next paycheck on the line that she was almost to her boiling point.
Instead of the trepidation he knew he should have felt at that realization, a surge of of satisfaction raced through his veins, because no matter how many circles Bruce Wayne managed to talk around him, Clark still had him beat in the department of Lois Lane and the many things that made her tick.
He doubted Wayne knew what that particular trait meant, at least not as well as Clark himself did. After years of close proximity- not to mention months of longingly following her every move- he knew all of Lois' little faults, her idiosyncrasies. He knew that she loved swiss fudge but wouldn't splurdge on it herself since she secretly thought it was a little too self indulgent, but he also knew that in the same breath she was likely to buy a whole pint of double fugde ice cream and threaten anyone that came within a five mile radius of it.
Lois Lane was full of contradictions, and Clark was positive a man like Bruce Wayne didn't have the time or inclination to apprecitate them for what they were, even if he did make the effort to learn each and every one.
It hurt, knowing that one day, the other man might know all the intimate details that had taken Clark years to acquire, but the idea that he would learn beyond those things made Clark's chest constrict painfully. It was the little unknown habits that only a lover was privy to that Clark yearned to discover, and the longer Bruce Wayne stayed in the picture, the less likely he would ever get the opportunity.
Seized by panic, Clark could actually feel his chance slipping from his grasp, sliding through his fingers as easily as sand. He should have been used to the violent wave of panic that would crash into him at the thought of Lois settling down with anyone but him, but as the weeks had passed, the surge of emotion still managed to leave him breathless.
Without conscious thought, words spilled from his lips, desperate to get rid of the interloper. "Go back to Gothom."
"Clark!" Lois snapped, voice sharp as her eyes conveyed shock at his blatantly rude behavior, her tolerance for such asanine antics wearing thinner as the night went on.
Unable to back down with the urgency still racing through his veins, Clark looked at Lois with a careless shrug before turning back to Bruce. "Doesn't Wayne Industries need you, you know, there?"
Not missing a beat, Bruce shrugged. "It's nothing that can't be handled via phone." The tender smile he directed at his date held a promise that froze Lois to her spot; her plastic smile faltering and a pink tinge touching her cheeks as her eyes skittered away, suddenly intent on the fine linen covering the table.
Clark's heart clenched at the current of emotion streaming between the silent pair. The fact that it was Bruce Wayne of all people that had caused such an effect only intensified that feeling. It would have been easy to claim it was because he had a bad feeling about the other man, but deep down he knew that it was the exact opposite. No matter how much he resented the billionaire, as far as he could see, Bruce Wayne was as decent as they came- and that in itself was a problem.
With Lana, it had been easy to justify his raging jealousy, excusing his behavior loudly and frequently with the fact that Lex Luthor was a cruel man that destroyed everything in his path. It had been an accepted part of everyday life for all those concerned that Lana needed protecting- and who was better for the job than him?
This time around, such reasoning was flimsy at best, and he had no doubt that if Lois even suspected the thought of her as helpless had crossed his mind that he would be the one in need of protecting.
Pushing aside his musings, Clark pressed the issue further. "You can't do everything by phone forever…"
"Well, we can't all lead the easy going life of a paper boy, you know. Some of us have responsibilities." Bruce deftly sidestepped the issue. The tone of his voice one a parent would use on a petulant child.
Clark bit back the defense that he was actually an intern, knowing it would only deepen the condescending smile now covering the other man's face, and clenched his fist as Bruce continued.
"You have no idea how much I envy the simple life a man such as yourself must lead." Beneath the snide comment ran an undercurrent of truthfulness that made Clark pause, wondering just how complicated the life of a privledged philanthropist could truly be.
Out of habit, he glanced at Lois to see if she was on the same wavelength and frowned at the unperturbed expression on her face. There was no way a reporter as good as her had missed something so significant and yet there was no outward curiosity at the hidden meaning. Shelving that mystery to be solved at a later time, Clark returned to the situation at hand.
"So, Metropolis is just a little fling?" He sniped, glancing significantly at Lois; too caught up in making his point to notice the livid expression now covering her face.
Instead of hearing the witty retort Clark was sure was ready to roll off the billionaire's tongue, a low, and decidedly feral growl, reached his ears- the only warning he received before he felt a surprising burst of power slamming against his side. Too stunned by the forceful shove to do anything but gasp, Clark found himself landing in an unceremonious heap on the pristine hardwood floor, a loud thud following his clumsy descent.
Lying flat on his back, Clark looked up in surprise and found his wide eyes clashing with the hard glint of hazel. "We need to talk. Now."
