Previously:

"… And anyway I did have a gaping head wound at the time. What's your excuse?" That last part came out a bit rougher than she'd intended. She could practically feel his eyes boring into her.

Finally, he spoke clearly, "You. I guess. You were my excuse. And I don't regret a moment of it. I'm sorry that you do."

Then she heard the door open and shut. She closed her eyes tightly and turned around. When she opened them, she was alone.

CHAPTER 7

When Clark didn't show at work the next morning, Lois decided to let him have some space. After a week had gone by without seeing him at the office, though she could tell he'd been in, she was going out of her mind. It took all of three days of each of them separately interrogating Chloe about the other's whereabouts and happenings for Chloe to decide to take matters into her own hands. She started purposefully planning things to get the two at least in the same room and going on about how she loved hanging out with her two best friends whenever they were all together. Separately, she told them both in no uncertain terms that they were both being idiots, making things harder than they should be and needed to grow up. Hmph, Chloe always did have a way with words.

They'd fallen back into a comfortable rhythm, work and after work. While Chloe was always there at first, she more frequently would have "something come up" at the last minute leaving Lois and Clark alone with their plans. Each time Lois found herself secretly wishing the nights would go on a little longer, that they could just speed past that awkward end of the night feeling, which usually ended with her saying "well, it's late" and bolting out the door to her car or in the door to her apartment before he could respond. Some nights she was certain he felt the tension too, walking her to the back door or lingering on her doorstep. Others he seemed to be preoccupied, letting her go without hesitation.

Tonight had been different and she'd known early on her heart was in trouble. When she arrived at the farm, only to hear that Chloe had "something come up," she considered leaving right then. But he'd smiled and said that just meant she got to pick the movie on her own and she was lost. She seemed to be more aware of him tonight, every moment, the way the couch shifted each time he got up for more popcorn, each time their hands brushed each other's in the bowl. Once she'd reached over without looking for a handful of popcorn only to find his empty legs at which she drew back her hand like she'd been burned and he threw the bowl he'd had raised in the air, kernels falling all around them. She nervously scurried to clean the mess, him joining her on hands and knees, though both were careful not to make eye contact.

After what seemed like years of silence and picking up kernels, she squeaked, "sorry."

"It's okay," he said quietly and when she stood and turned she found him staring at her.

She promptly said, "well, it's getting late" and was out the door. Feeling foolish, since the movie wasn't even over, she would have turned around. But he'd followed her, walking one step behind her to her car. She'd thought about making a run for it, but something told her he'd just outrun her.

When they reached her car, she began fumbling with her keys as he stood next to her, silently, resting himself on one hand at the top of the door, effectively holding it shut. "Here, let me," he reached for her keys but she swatted at him, "I can do …"

But before she could finish he'd grasped her hand and pulled her closer to him. She was pretty sure a whimper had escaped her lips. He leaned his head closer to hers and moved his hand from the car to the small of her back.

"Smallville … don't" she said, though not with the conviction she was going for.

He didn't move away or let go but he didn't progress either. "Why not?" he breathed onto her face. She had no idea why not and he must have seen it in her face because his grew closer.

She fought with herself and pulled away from him.

"I don't think that's a good idea" she said avoiding his eyes.

He didn't say anything but she knew he was waiting to be convinced. She glanced at him and he moved a step closer again. She put her hand up between them almost touching his chest. He stopped.

"Lois," he said, almost as a plea.

She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. "Look, Smallville," she said as firmly as she could muster, "we've got a good thing here, you know, let's not go and complicate things."

"Lois," he began, but she cut him off.

"I'm serious, Clark, we're friends, we're partners, why mess with a good thing?" She was looking to him now, hoping he'd convince her she was right.

Looking back at her, he said the first thing that came to his mind: "for a great thing," his gaze unwavering. That wasn't what she wanted him to say. Her resolve was weakening; she was losing the fight on purpose. He continued, "Lois, I—

But she cut him off, saying "neither of us have the best track record with … you know. I mean, we wouldn't want to end up not working together or not even friends … like you and Lana."

As soon as she'd said the name, she wished she hadn't. His chest sank in a little and he took a step back.

A few silent moments that seemed like years passed. And then …

"Do you want to know why Lana left?" He asked quietly, avoiding her eyes.

"Um … no … it's none of my ….," But she trailed off as his eyes finally met hers again. He looked at her, so vulnerable, so raw. She thought just thinking of Lana must break his heart. She didn't like seeing him like this.

"Clark," she said, not realizing she'd moved toward him, hand on his chest, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

He placed his hand over hers on his heart and his face seemed to lighten. He smiled down at her.

"I'd like to tell you … if you want to hear … I'd like to tell you everything, Lois." He said, so peacefully.

She was mesmerized by him, by the way he looked at her. "Okay," she whispered.

He pulled her hand in his down to his side, "How 'bout a walk?" he asked.