Author's Note: Their relationship is supposed to still be disjointed and choppy and confusing at this point because we're seeing it from Lois's perspective, and Clark is still very guarded. Those of you who have read my other stories have likely noticed the character relationship isn't at the depth of my other stories. This is on purpose, for now. :) Lois is supposed to be stumbling a little in self-confidence because Clark brings out a softer side in her that she's never really experienced, and he still stumbles with every step he takes. The strong Lois and the confident Clark/Superman that we know are still being born. :)


When a knock came at the front door early the next morning, she frowned. A glance through the peephole revealed Clark. He was twenty minutes early.

She opened the door and stepped back. "Hey. Come in. I'm not quite ready yet." Pulling the robe together tighter, a blush crept up. It shouldn't have being he'd seen her in pajamas the first two nights after surgery.

"I woke up early and thought we could have breakfast quick." He smiled and held up a white bakery bag. "Muffins."

"Oh." He never sprang surprises. A smile bloomed. "Sure. Let me go get dressed quick." Darting to the bedroom, she swung the door shut and scurried across the bed to the closet. A sweater? No, a suit would be better for interviewing an eye witness to a murder. Hurry, hurry. How odd that Clark didn't avoid her after last night's awkward conversation. Snatching the hairbrush off the dresser, she yanked it through her hair.

A knock on the bedroom door. "Lois? Take your time." The man had a slight chuckle in his voice that came through the barrier.

She froze, completely mortified. "Are you watching?!" Marching to the door, she yanked it open.

Clark held up his hands. "No, I could hear you yanking your hair." He pointed to his ears. "I wouldn't look at you changing," he snorted.

Her eyebrows rose.

"Er, I mean, not like a man wouldn't want to look at you, I just, uh..." He pulled at his neck collar.

Folding her arms over her chest, she cocked an eyebrow. "I think you should stop talking."

He frowned and stood taller. "A gentleman doesn't peep." The man gave a decisive nod and straightened his suit coat.

"Oh."

Before another word could be uttered, he reached up and gave a soft stroke through her hair. "You have a broken bristle in your hair," he said softly and his eyes locked with hers. He held up the tiny plastic piece and then cleared his throat. "I'll, um, go get the table set."

Closing the door, she leaned against it and released a deep breath. It took several minutes for her heart to beat normally again.


"How was I supposed to know these guys were crooked for the mayor?" The metal chains nearly cut off breathing. "Are you going to bust us out of here, or not until they blow our heads off?" She flung her head to get her hair out of the line of sight to the door.

He gave a look over his shoulder. "Sure, why don't I just show them how I can run fast too?"

She heaved a sigh. "Clark, now would really be a good time if you kinda feel like being really strong," she snapped. Sometimes he was such a rookie. More than six months on the job, and he still couldn't sense lethal danger. Wiggling against the restraints with Mr. Hard Body tied against her back didn't work so well either.

"If I pull against the chains, it'll crush you. Besides, they have guns, and I don't know if I'm faster than a bullet." His head shifted against the back of hers, as if he looked at the gun rigged up to fire if they stood.

Her head fell back against his shoulder. "Ugh! Clark, stop being a baby and either run or break the chains. I'm willing to risk either."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't feel like crushing or putting a bullet in you. I guess I'm picky," he spat.

God, the man could worry worse than anyone in the world.

Two of the gunmen came back. "Let's get rid of the broad. We can use the man to move the moneybags before we kill him."

"Clark," she whispered in a panic as the men approached.

"I heard. I won't let them hurt you," he whispered.

The man came around with a gun aimed and a sick smile on his face. "Say goodbye, babe."

The world went black.

Breathing hurt. Blinking, she squinted in the sunlight and looked around. Her bedroom.

"Lois." Clark sank down on the edge of the bed. He stroked her cheek.

"What happened?"

"He was going to shoot you. My muscles grew in reaction, and when it broke the chains, I think it compressed your chest so much that you fainted."

Pushing up to a sit, the ache in the ribs caused a grimace. "How long was I out?"

Clark helped prop pillows behind. "A couple minutes."

She frowned. "Did you get them?"

"I did—"

"How did you get me here and make sure they were arrested in two minutes?" A gasp cut through the last word as she tried to shift and ribs protested.

The man grinned. "What can I say? I'm faster than a speeding bullet."

She flung up a hand. "Great. This is just great. A big story, and I'm unconscious for the ending."

He frowned. "But, we're partners. I can fill in the parts you missed."

"Yeah, I guess." A sigh of disappointment caused a wave of rib pain and a whimper.

"You're hurt? I did an x-ray to make sure your ribs didn't break." He sounded worried and lifted her shirt to expose her ribs. "Oh, Lois, I'm sorry."

Purple bruise lines ran side to side.

In the blink of an eye and gust of wind, he set ice packs on.

She frowned. "Did you just leave and come back?"

He froze,a distant look in his eye. "Lois, there's a bank robbery. Someone was shot."

"Clark, you can't just keep running off to save people. You're going to get caught!"

A burst of wind and he was gone.

Sometimes he could be an idiot.


At work the next day, Perry grinned across his desk as he set down the story draft. "This is gonna knock their socks off! The mayor doing money laundering and The Daily Planet was right there to see it!" Then he pointed at her. "Are you being careful? I don't want a story to be how my reporter got shot. Clark, she has a nose for trouble. You keep an eye on her."

Clark grinned and set a hand on her back, giving a pointed look over the fact that Chief repeated his own words. "I am, sir."

Rolling her eyes, she pushed his hand away and walked out. "This isn't some 1950s, 'little woman' era," she huffed and plopped in her chair, wincing when the bruised ribs protested.

He followed and leaned his hands on the side of the desk. "We just worry. Lois, I really think you need to stay home and rest."

"I can be just as miserable here."

A small breeze and he set an ice pack in her hand.

Her eyes flew to his. "You can't go running around like that," she hissed. "Get in the conference room." Grimacing against the pain of getting up, his proffered hand was accepted.

"In the conference room, she shut the door. "You are getting more and more free about doing what you please wherever you please," she snapped.

The man folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. "And that matters because...?"

"You're going to get caught, Clark!"

"I'm not going to get caught, worry wart." He cracked a smile like he was up to no good. "I'll stop if you go home and rest."

Her jaw dropped. "That's not fair, and you know it!"

His hands slid into his pockets, the smile spreading into a grin. "I drive a hard bargain when you're stubborn. Look, you can work from home, just give your ribs a break."

The irritating man served as an escort home too.

"I wasn't going to run off for a story, you know." The words muttered in a bitter tone.

He cleared his throat. "I know. There's no harm in making sure you get home alright."

Now seemed as good a time as any to bring things up. "Clark? Why won't you talk to me anymore about your abilities?"

It could be felt - the wall he slammed up. "We're just friends, and it doesn't need to matter."

Stopping on the sidewalk, she turned to him. Tension lined his face. It was hard to work up the courage to get the words out, to risk the vulnerability and rejection. "Are we always going to be just friends?"

All emotion fled his face. "Of course." Then a smile touched his lips. "Stop being silly, Lois. Come on, I have to get back to the office." He resumed walking, not even seeming to realize the hurt he'd just inflicted.

Swallowing back the tears, she followed. He was right, she kept having these childish dreams of sharing everything with him. Friendship had grown to him being the first one she called when in need of anything - even catching a mouse in the kitchen one night. Every thought or feeling could be blurted to him, everything shared with him. Her footsteps slowed as it dawned. He never called her for anything, never shared his most intimate thoughts. If he'd been back to Dr. Klein these past months, he didn't admit it. Oh god, she was being...needy and clingy. He clearly wasn't interested in a best friend relationship, much less a romantic one.

The humiliation kept her silent the rest of the way home as he absently chatted about nothing.

"Thanks for walking me home." The front steps came into view.

"Oh. I can walk you to your door."

"No, really, I'm fine." Friends didn't do that, and it was time to start following friend boundaries herself instead of throwing herself at him.

He pressed his lips together and frowned. "Lois, I insist. It might hurt climbing stairs."

Half way up the stairs inside, every breath hurt from the movement, which made laboured breathing, which made the pain worse and caused more laboured breathing.

"Lois, just let me carry you," he fretted again.

"It's fine. I just need a break." Stopping on the mid-way landing and holding an arm tight around her middle helped ease some of the pain.

"Lois," he warned and stepped forward to pick her up.

She held out a hand. "It's fine." Forcing the herself up the last flight, relief washed over at reaching the top.

Around the corner of the hall at her door, a man stood there with a bouquet of flowers.

"Can we help you?" Clark sounded a bit tense.

The man turned.

"Ben?" She blinked. "I didn't recognize you without the uniform."

Ben frowned. "Lois? Why are you out? I came to check on you since Clark said he took you home because you fainted on the scene yesterday."

Before she could answer, Clark stepped in. "I brought her home because she needs to rest."

Ben's eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Just bruised ribs. I'll be fine." She slipped past him, unlocked the door and turned to face them.

"Do you need anything?" Ben handed over the flowers.

"Ohhh, Thank you." A genuine smile broke free. "I - "

"I'll get her settled in," Clark interrupted.

"I'm off duty today. You can head back to work. I'll take care of her," Ben cut in and clapped Clark on the shoulder.

Clark looked a little distraught.

"Lois," Ben said, completely ignoring Clark, "when you're feeling better, I'd like to take you out to dinner."

She blinked and glanced at Clark. There was both elation at being asked on a date and sadness when Clark simply looked away without any kind of protest. Friendship was all Clark wanted. The sooner this crush on Clark could be squashed, the better. "I'd like that. Thank you. I'm going to go get ice and lie down."

"Oh! Of course!" Ben seemed to have forgotten why she'd come home early. "I'll - "

Clark shoved forward, practically running her over as he pushed his way inside. "I'll help you get ice packs, Lois. Thanks for stopping by, Ben." Then Clark shut the door in his face and set a hand on the small of her back, forcing her toward the kitchen.

"Clark! That was rude! And I don't remember asking you for help."

He snorted. "You're obviously out of your mind with pain. You can't go out with him." He started digging in the freezer.

"Why not?" She pulled off her coat, hissing when it aggravated her ribs.

Clark shot over in a blur and helped ease it off. "Because he's Ben! Do I have to spell it out?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Apparently."

The man rolled his eyes. "He's a little chauvinistic. Being a cop, he'd yell at you every time you got into trouble."

"And you don't?" She eased into a chair at the counter.

"I'm right in it with you, so at least I can keep an eye on you!" He plopped an ice pack on the counter and started making a second one.

"You seem kinda upset about this. It's a date, not a marriage proposal."

He spun around and gave a dark glare. Flinging the freezer door shut, he caught it when it made the whole refrigerator tip forward. Then he slammed the ice tray down on the counter, making the ice cubes bounce out all over. "Dammit!" He picked them up off the floor and dumped them in the sink. "I just can't believe he's had a change of heart after all these years! He's up to something!" He filled the ice tray with water and then blew to freeze them.

That stung. "Because it's impossible for anyone to want to date me, right?"

A scowl marred his features. "I did not say that."

"You didn't have to." The words breathed out with enough sadness to be indecipherable to human ears. Without looking at him, she slowly got up while holding her side and went into the bedroom, silently shutting the door.

A few days of recouperating at home didn't bring any sign of Clark. The date with Ben came and went.

Two days back in the office, and Clark was even more withdrawn like he felt...sad. It seemed lonely walking to and from work without him too. Reclining back in her seat, she watched him typing. He'd been forcing social smiles the past two days, a real one not once touching his lips.

"Lois!" Jimmy came over with a bouquet of daisies. "These came for you." He set them on her desk and grinned.

Jimmy seemed completely oblivious to Clark glance up just long enough for grief to flit across his face.

"Well? Who are they from?" The young photographer smiled, as anxious as a child with a wrapped present.

Dragging her eyes from Clark, she picked up the little card tucked inside. "Jimmy, a woman getting flowers is private." Dread clutched. Probably more flowers from Lex. Clark would be happy getting to grind them up.

"Not when he sends them to your work!" He grinned.

Her stomach dropped. Ben.

Clark had already resumed typing at his computer, like he knew. Maybe he'd used his x-ray vision to see inside the card.

"Jimmy, would you excuse me?" Without waiting for a response, she walked over to Clark's desk and tugged his arm on the way past to the conference room.

When he followed behind, she shut the door. "What's going on?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned.

"You're avoiding me the past week. You aren't even walking me home." She folded her arms.

His eyebrows shot up. "You said you didn't need it!"

"I don't!"

"So, what's the problem?!" He threw up his arms.

"You're avoiding me!"

"How am I avoiding you?! We went on an assignment yesterday!"

"You know exactly what I mean!"

Jimmy popped in. "Are you guys okay? There's a lot of yelling."

"Yes!" Clark snapped at the same time as her.

Jimmy darted out.

A sigh of defeat, and Clark ran a hand through his hair in that self-conscious gesture - that gesture which made her heart ache almost as much as when he'd stick his hands in his pockets.

Stepping forward, she caught his arm and lowered it. "Don't. Don't look like you'd give anything not to be in your own skin." She searched his face.

It had to be imagined, but regret flashed through his eyes before he stepped back. "Was he at least a gentleman to you?"

"Who? Oh, Ben? Yeah, it was fine."

His jaw muscles clenched.

"Clark? Why are you shutting me out?" It hurt so much more than it should.

He heaved a sigh and looked away. "Lois, it's better this way."

"Why? What did I do that repulses you so?"

Those blue eyes held hers for but a moment, some kind of emotion flitting through too fast to read. "You could never repulse me," he whispered.

"Clark! You're speaking in code. Why won't you talk to me? Why aren't we friends anymore?" Tears threatened.

He stepped closer and cupped her face, brushing one stray tear away with his thumb in a gentle caress that should've been impossible with his rock hard touch. "I'm an alien, Lois," he breathed in the softest tones. "I can do things now that would frighten you. I couldn't bear it if you were scared of me."

"But I won't be scared. You wouldn't hurt me." She set a hand on his chest as his hand grew softer on her cheek. These moments when he trusted and opened up were so comforting, so...perfect, like finding something that had been missing and it made everything complete again.

His eyes looked deep into hers for the first time. "I would never try to hurt you. When you feel these emotions like you're having now, I can sense them in you. I like feeling like I fit in when I'm with you, how you're not afraid or disgusted by things I can do. But, I also know that I'm not meant to have that." He slowly withdrew his hand.

She frowned. "What do you mean? Why would you think you're supposed to be alone?"

His gaze tore away. "We need to get back to that story Perry assigned. I'm glad you had a good time with Ben." Those last words came out flat, and he headed for the door.

"Now, wait a minute." Grabbing his arm, she stumbled when it didn't slow him.

In the next instant, she fell against his hard chest instead of his back, and those thick arms wrapped around to catch her. Irritation and breathlessness both fought to get out on top. "You can't walk away whenever it's a conversation that gets too close," she ordered, albeit a bit breathlessly. It was hard to want to pull free while looking up into those beautiful blue eyes.

"And you're going to stop me?" An amused smile tugged one corner of his mouth.

Straightening to get off of his chest, she smoothed a hand over her suit jacket and tilted up her chin. "Yes. I think you're jealous but won't admit it because you're being a coward over what my response would be." She folded her arms.

One black eyebrow rose up and up and the smile dropped dead. "Oh really? By all means, enlighten me, Ms. Lane." A hard edge crept into his voice.

Oh dear, he was going to be difficult. "You're pushing me away because you got too close and God forbid, started to feel something. Just because you're different doesn't mean it's some kind of curse. Think of all the good you could do for the world, like how you saved that lady from being murdered or stopped that bomb—I still think it was stupid to put it in your mouth to blow up. You could've blown your head off."

"I found it two seconds before it was going to blow us up!"

Rolling her eyes, she continued. "My point is," she set both hands on his chest, "whatever they said before taught you to be afraid of yourself, to see yourself as someone who shouldn't belong."

He pulled her hands off, so much anger and hurt rising that his chest heaved with emotion. "I'm another species. I may not be physiologically compatible to give someone a family. What woman would want my eyes to turn black and body to change molecular density when I kiss her? How would it not terrify her to lie next to something that could roll over and crush her? Wha—"

Pressing her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his neck while standing on her toes came as naturally as breathing. The feel of his body softening against hers somehow beckoned a desire to protect him as his body grew vulnerable.

The man melted in her arms and pulled her closer.

"Hey, Clark! I—" Jimmy's voice cut through.

Clark's head jerked back before he spun away, but not before catching a glimpse of his eyes dilated to black. "I'll be there in a minute, Jimmy," he said over his shoulder, keeping his face out of view.

"Uh, okay..." Jimmy looked from her to Clark in confusion. "Are you guys dating?"

"No. Jimmy, go, please," she ordered and walked over to close the door.

His eyes were back to normal when he turned. "Don't pull a stunt like that again," he snapped and marched toward the door.

She stepped in his path, forcing him to a halt. The man looked mighty angry. "If you'd pull your head out of your ass, maybe you could take Jimmy's advice!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she retorted and jerked the door open and stormed out.

"Lois! Clark!" Perry called from his office doorway, "There's a fire at the old Luther Inc. warehouse! It's said to still have some national treasures inside. Get over there!"

Clark started to head for the back door.

"Where are you going? You don't have your laptop or—"

He leaned in for private conversation. "I'll go help the firefighters put it out. I'll meet you there."

Before a protest could be made to be carried at super speed with him, he was gone.

The building had smoke billowing out, but no flames when the taxi pulled up. Clark came trotting around from the side, a couple soot marks on his face.

"Are you alright?" She pointed to the marks.

He rubbed them off and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. "Yes. I scanned and found signs of arson, but I can't show the fire marshall."

"Why?"

"Because they're still putting out remaining flames. There'd be no way for me to have seen it yet," he whispered.

"We'll hang around until we can go in." She shrugged.

Distress strained his face. "No, Lois, it's on the third floor in the center of the building. The stairs and elevators are too fragile to get up there."

That did pose a problem.

"I've never seen a fire just burn out that instantly," one of the firemen walking past said to another.

Her eyes flew to Clark. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him far away from ears and spun on him. "What did you do? Did anyone see you?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "I blew cold air hard, and it extinguished the fire. Then I jumped up to each floor and repeated it."

Smacking a hand to her forehead, she groaned. "Harvard man, I know you're not stupid." Then she swung her purse to hit his shoulder. "Are you an idiot?!" she hissed. "What if someone saw? They're clearly going to investigate because that's not what fires do!"

His eyes narrowed above her head and expression stoned over to ice cold.

She followed his gaze and turned. Lex Luther walked toward them. Instinctively taking a step back from the monster, she bumped into Clark. His hand rested on her shoulder, growing heavier. This fear had to be shoved down because Clark was apparently starting to react to it.

"Lois, you're shaking," he whispered.

Nothing ever scared her. She never shook. "Don't react," she breathed in warning, even her voice quivering.

"I'm trying not to. You're safe. I'm right here." He straightened and took a step to her right so she wasn't between him and Lex.

"Lois, how are you?" Lex held out his arms with a slimy smile.

"You must be Lex Luther," Clark cut in and took a step forward with a hand outstretched, blocking Lex.

Surprise crossed Lex's face, but he nodded and shook Clark's hand. A grimace of pain and he pulled his hand free. "A strong grip you have there. You must work out."

"No, not really. Sorry, I don't realize my own strength sometimes." Something in Clark's tone aid it as a warning.

Apparently Lex caught it because he gave Clark a long, uncertain look. Then he stepped around Clark and gave an embrace.

Memories of that fist flying into her face flashed.

"Lois, you look as beautiful as ever." He let go but still stood far too close. "Did you receive the flowers?"

"Oh, were those from you?" Clark cut in again and stood awkwardly close, forcing Lex to take a step back. "These black, crushed roses arrived, so I threw them out for her. Ah well," he clapped Lex so hard on the shoulder that Lex nearly fell, "what can you expect from cheap florists?" He smiled.

Lex's face reddened. "They were from the best florist in Metropolis and imported from Europe." Then his eyes returned to her. "I'll send replacements."

"No, Lex," she protested.

"I insist."

"A gentleman doesn't insist upon a lady's protests," Clark cut in.

Lex turned to him in irritation. "And just who are you?"

"I'm her partner at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent." He took the opportunity to step back and set an arm around her shoulders, with a grin. And he didn't seem inclined to let go.

The nerves began to calm. Clark's proximity would keep Lex back, and he seemed more than capable at keeping Lex off balance in conversation.

Disgust flitted across Lex's face for a split instant. Then his eyes returned to her. "Would you like an exclusive interview, Lois?" He swept an arm back toward the warehouse. "The true Mona Lisa gone, the—"

"The Mona Lisa? Why did you have it?" She frowned and glanced up at Clark, who seemed to have eyes locked on Lex.

A smile snaked over his lips.

The flash of those cold, thin lips forced upon her caused a shiver.

Clark must've felt it because he rubbed her arm.

"Lois, I possess the originals of everything priceless and beautiful in the world. All but one thing." His gaze locked.

Every fiber of Clark hardened, as if picking up on Lex's hidden desire to also possess her.

"We actually have to get back to the Daily Planet to finish up another story before deadline," Clark answered. "We'll let you know if we decide on that interview. Lois and I are partners, so we make decisions together. And I go wherever she goes."

Lex's eyes darted to Clark and narrowed at that warning. Just as fast as anger flashed through Lex's eyes, it was replaced with a forced smile. "Well, it was a pleasure." He overlooked Clark's outstretched hand and leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

Every muscle tensed in a panic.

Clark suddenly sneezed, his head whacking right into Lex's temple.

"Ow!" Lex straightened before reaching her and rubbed his head. The man looked slightly dazed.

"Sorry, I'm told I have a thick skull." Clark rubbed his own forehead. "We'd better get going. Get some ice for that." Then Clark swept her away.

She glanced back to see Lex sway. "Clark, I think you gave him a concussion."

"He'll live, so I don't care." He kept up a rapid walk. The moment they got out of sight, he scooped her up and ran.

A block before the Daily Planet, he stopped in an alley and set her down, leaning his hand near her shoulder, on the side of the building. "What the hell did he do to make you that scared?" Clark sounded angry.

"Nothing. It's not your business either."

"Oh, it sure is when I'm you're partner and you're practically trying to press yourself inside of my body. Did he hurt you?"

"Clark, it doesn't matter. I'm not with him—"

"Lois," he said, the anger fleeing his tone, "I want to know what I need to protect you from."

No man needed to protect her. "I don't need—"

"Maybe not, but you very much want it," he said softly. "I want to protect you from him. Please, Lois."

The fear came back with the memories. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at the ground. "He got angry over dinner at his house one night. He didn't like that I wanted to wait for marriage, but even he isn't enough of a monster to force himself on a woman. When he kissed me and I pushed him away, he punched me. I think he went into a rage because he just started punching and kicking and screaming. He snapped out of it all the sudden and apologized. He called his private physician, but he locked me in his bedroom, insisting that he'd nurse me back to health. It took a week for me to escape."

"And physically? How badly did he hurt you before he snapped out of it?" He didn't touch, but his voice held so much compassion and gentleness.

She swallowed hard. The humiliation was too strong to meet his eyes. "A fractured cheekbone, concussion, broken rib, and internal bleeding that stopped itself without needing surgery."

His eyes narrowed and his finger reached to stroke over her temple but didn't touch. "And stitches. You have a long scar hidden in your hair."

"I fell against the counter," she whispered.

"Will it frighten you if I touch you?"

Forcing down a lump in her throat, she shook her head.

His arms wrapped around. "You're safe now, Lois. I won't let him hurt you. I wish you would've told me before so I could've given a better handshake."

That won a small laugh and she let go. "If you break his hand, he'll probably sue you enough for the next five lifetimes."

But he didn't laugh. "That's why you said he owns half the police force—you tried going to the police, didn't you?" A sigh escaped him when she didn't reply. "I gave you my cell number to put in your new phone, right?"

She nodded and looked up. Worry wrinkled his brow.

"You call me, even if you think you dreamed hearing a noise during the night, got it?"

Another nod. Although, it seemed odd that he wanted to be called but didn't mind her walking home alone in the dark.

"I have a confession." He stuck his hands in his pockets and stepped back. "I, uh, I've been following you to and from work." Then he held up his hands and added quickly, "But just to make sure you don't get attacked. Not in a creepy, stalker-following-you way."

Some of the hurt faded that he hadn't completely abandoned her. "You don't have to sneak around. If you prefer we don't talk—"

"No, it's not you, Lois." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Clark, I'm so confused. You avoid me like the plague, but then you say you're making sure I get home and to call you in an emergency...I have no idea what's going on."

He threw out his hands. "I don't know what to do about this! You should be utterly freaked out by me!"

She blinked. "Clark, we've been through this!"

"I know it! Oh, screw it." Then he rushed forward and captured her face in his hands, pushing her back against the hard cement building. His lips crushed down on hers.

There was passion and tenderness, and he didn't even seem to care that his body softened to mold against hers. Blood rushed in her ears at the wild thundering of her heart. His arms wrapped around, like a cocoon of protection.

When he broke the kiss, she clung to his shoulders as the world slowly righted itself and her breathing slowed.

He turned his head away but didn't let go, and blinked hard like he tried to reverse his reaction.

Touching his chin, she guided his eyes back. They were completely dilated and his breathing slightly heavy. "You don't have to hide. Does light hurt?" He squinted.

Clark nodded. "All I can see is white."

Withdrawing her hands, she eased his arms free. "Don't touch me, and maybe it'll go away faster."

He leaned a hand against the building and bowed his head as his shoulders fell. "I can't even kiss you right," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me—"

"Clark?" It was time to have an honest conversation that had been danced around for almost six months. "Do I make you miserable?"

His head whipped to her, those blue eyes almost back to normal. "Why would you think such a thing?" His brow furrowed.

Clasping her hands together, she drew a steadying breath. "I see you around other people. You laugh and smile and joke. But with me...you seem self-conscious and ashamed and are always apologizing, like you're miserable around me." Swallowing hard, every muscle braced for the confirmation that he wanted a new partner, wanted to leave Metropolis, wanted to never hear from her again.

His hand dropped from the wall and he searched her eyes. "I'm self-conscious because you're the one whose opinion matters most." He looked away, and his cheeks grew pink. "You know I have physical reactions to you. I don't know why they don't freak you out—they do me. I don't even know what I am, but Dr. Klein knows for certain now that I'm not human. I'll never fit in, and people can't find out about my...abilities." He finally met her eyes. "You feel like home, Lois. And I don't want to do anything to frighten you. You're smart and funny and kind, and your stubbornness drives me insane," he cracked a smile, "and I've never felt like this toward anyone. I've never even wanted to kiss a woman, until you." Then he hesitated and stuck his hands in his pockets and closed his mouth, as if realizing he'd said too much.

"I've never had this kind of attraction either. I never let things get to me, but I can't sleep some nights, thinking you're just going to not show up to work one day because you went back to Kansas. I never cry, but it seems to just come out when I'm around you because it feels safe. I don't want us to not be friends."

His shoulders fell and expression stoned over. "Friends." He nodded and looked away. "Yes, of course."

"You said that's all you wanted." Dread crept up like that had just been the final nail in the coffin somehow.

"That's for the best. We'd better get back to the office." He turned and started walking out of the alley.

She stared after him. He didn't even seem to realize that he'd taken her heart and set it at his feet, only to walk on it the moment he'd walked away.

"Lois." He turned at the entrance and waited, like it was just another day and she was just any other coworker.


"Perry, I need a new partner."

The editor in chief looked up from his desk that afternoon. "What in the Sam Hill are you talking about?"

She closed the door and stood on the other side of his desk, her chin high. The walk back to the Daily Planet had been silent and painful, and Clark being oblivious to the hurt had only made it worse. That had been gotten through without tears, so this could too. "I stuck him out for six months, which is longer than the week we agreed on." Tears pricked behind her eyes.

"Lois, honey, if this is some kind of spat, go talk to Clark. You two are the best reporters I have, and you're perfect together. I'm not splitting you two up."

The door banged open and Clark barged through, slamming it shut behind himself. "New partner?!" His eyebrows shot up and he stopped to her right.

Perry frowned. "Clark, how did you hear us?"

"Uh, she mentioned she might come to you about it today," he lied. Then he folded his arms over his chest and gave her an expectant look.

The hurt was replaced with anger. He had no right to be upset about it when all he did was push her away. "As if you don't think it's awkward working together. It's getting in the way of work—"

"Excuse us, chief." Clark practically shoved her out the door and into the conference room next door.

He closed the door and whirled on her, setting his hands on his hips. "Are you kidding me? Lois, we're partners! You talk to me about something like this first!"

"I tried talking to you! Once again, you shut down and walked away when you decided you were done with the conversation!"

The man leaned forward, his eyes spitting mad. "When?! I don't recall a conversation about getting new partners!"

"In the alley, I tried getting you to talk to me about why you seem miserable—"

He slapped a hand to his forehead. "Is this woman code or something? When there's a problem, just say it! 'Clark, I want a new partner' would've been a good start!"

"Oh! Oh! Just like you say when you're upset about something?! 'Lois, kiss me, no stay away, let's watch a movie, no I'm not walking you home.' In what world is that communication?!"

"One where I'm trying to watch for you because you don't seem to know what's best for you!" He thrust a finger at his chest. "For some asinine reason, you don't even seem to have basic survival skills to avoid something not human!"

"What?! I don't need someone watching out for me!"

The door opened and Perry stuck his head in. "You two settle down or take it outside. The whole newsroom hears your yelling."

"Don't worry, we're done," she snapped and stormed past Clark for the door.

Perry blocked it. "You work this out. I'm not having my paper suffer because of a spat."

"We did, Perry," Clark ground out from behind, "we need new partners." Then he swept through the door without a backwards glance.


It'd been three days of not working together. Clark had moved to the other side of the newsroom closer to his new partner, not once even glancing over despite his desk facing hers.

Working alone had always been perfect to write the perfect stories, but it seemed...lonely not having Clark at interviews or sitting together over the laptop to find just the right word. She stayed late each night to avoid going home and wallowing. He left by six o'clock each night, without paying her any notice.

He got up and put on his sports coat, heading toward the elevators. No one else was in the office. Seven o'clock.

Sticking her nose in the computer to ignore the hurt of yet another day of him acting like she no longer existed, she stared at the screen. Five sentences. It was supposed to be a front-page story for yesterday. Perry wouldn't push deadline one more day. The cursor blinked on the screen as blank as her heart felt at the moment.

A cup of coffee set down on her desk.

She looked up. "Clark."

"I've got a late night and figured you probably do too." He took a sip from his own cup.

"Yeah. Thanks." She picked it up and took a sip. Cream and two sugars, just the way she liked it. The fact that he'd noticed what she liked only made the ache worse.

"Well, I'd better get back to it." He got five paces away.

"How's it going with your new partner?" Blurting the first thing that came to mind, and it had to be that question? "I mean, Paul is a good writer, so you probably like working with him."

He turned and came back, resting his hip on the side of her desk. "He is a good writer." Then he shrugged. "Are you happy to be solo again?"

Miserable. Lonely. Sad. Bored. She shrugged.

"Paul's not you." He straightened and took another drink.

She cracked a smile at that well-deserved sting. "Yeah, no arguing or grammar to clean up. Well, I'm glad you're liking it." Turning her attention back to the laptop would hopefully make him leave before he dug in the wound.

But he didn't move. "I never said I like it," he replied softly. "I'll leave you to your work." Then he walked away.

She stared at the screen as a tear slid down.

"Perry?" She knocked at his door the next day.

He looked up from where he edited the final hard copy of tomorrow's paper. "Lois, good timing. I wanted to talk to you. This story..." He shook his head. "Well, it's not good. You're better than this. What's wrong? Ever since you went back on your own, your stories don't have any life to them. Where's my Pulitzer Prize writer?"

She closed the door and sank into the chair. "I think I made a mistake."

"Wait, let me get a recorder out. I don't think I've ever heard you say that." The smile disappeared from his lips. "You're serious."

"Perry, I was mad at Clark and think I hurt his feelings when I requested a new partner. In truth, I'm miserable, but I can't ask him to trade again."

"Lois, The King can strike me down if I'm wrong," he said and pointed to a poster of Elvis on his wall, "but that boy has been head-over-heels crazy about you since the day he walked in here. He's been moping around too, and I'd bet a hound dog that he'd take you back as a partner in a heartbeat."

"A hound dog?" She frowned in confusion.

"Yeah. You ain't nothing but a hound dog," he said, breaking into Elvis's song.

She heaved a sigh. "He hasn't even looked at me all week until last night. I don't think he's gonna want to be partners again."

Perry kicked his feet up on his desk and folded his hands behind his head, with a grin, as he signaled for someone to come in.

Looking over her shoulder, mortification shot her to her feet. Clark got up from his desk and headed this way. "No, Perry, you can't! I came in to talk, not actually do anything!"

"Clark," Perry said as he came in, "Lois wants to ask you something." He grinned.

"No! I don't want to ask anything. No questions."

Clark gave her a long look, and then a tiny smile tugged the corner of his lip.

She gasped. He'd been listening!

"Clark, Lois wants you to be her partner again."

"Perry!" Oh god, this couldn't get any worse.

A stupid grin lit up Clark's face, and he folded his arms over his chest. "Does she now? Well, I don't know, Perry. Being at her beck and call like this isn't fair to Paul or myself. I mean, I'm not here for her to just decide 'no stay away, no come here, Clark.'"

Her eyes widened in a panic if he'd bring up the kiss, throwing her words back at her like this.

Perry belly laughed. "Lois, I think you've met your match. It's going to take a little bit of grovelling."

She marched past Clark and stormed out. The nerve of him! A walk out in the Spring air would help cool down to be ready for the interview with the chief of police this afternoon. Clark would see her leave in the elevator and take great satisfaction in irritating her. Best to go down the back hall and take the stairs.

Just as she reached for the handle, a small gust of wind and a hand held the doorknob. She glared up at him.

"I wasn't going to make you grovel." A smile glinted in his eyes.

"Good, because I wasn't going to ask you. This is clearly a much better arrangement than working together," she snapped.

"Lois, let me say something, and then you can go on hating me the rest of today." The smile faded from his eyes. "I never got to go through that awkward phase in high school of liking a girl but saying and doing the wrong thing. Honestly, girls never drew my attention, and I suspected there was something wrong because I didn't have interest in any gender... Can you not glare? This is embarrassing enough without you looking like you're going to kill me."

In all fairness, he did look uncomfortable with the conversation. Releasing a deep breath, she folded her arms and reined in her temper.

"Then at thirty, I meet a woman and start having all these emotions and reactions like some damn teenager."

"I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience."

"No, Lois," he let go of the door and set a hand on her arm, "I'm trying to explain what I should've a long time ago but was too embarrassed."

The tension melted, and she set a hand over his. He actually looked a little pale. "Clark, do you feel alright?"

"Yeah." His hand grew clammy. "I..." he swallowed hard, "All of this is so new to me. It seems stupid and juvenile, and I won't blame you if you laugh. I know I've been sending mixed signals. I value your friendship and don't want to jeopardize that. I like you. As a woman. I know I shouldn't because I'm not human and...and I'm babbling." He released a huge breath and pulled his hand away, as if he braced for rejection.

"Wait, you've been acting like this because you like me?"

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I know, it's juvenile and not sophisticated like a thirty-year-old man should be with sending you flowers or having the courage to ask you on a real date."

God, he looked painfully self-conscious as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to keep thinking that I'm picking you up and dropping you because I'm being a jerk." He forced his eyes up but couldn't quite meet her gaze. "I'm trying to figure out how to be your friend without wanting more. I don't expect you to say anything, or even to talk about this ever again. I promise I won't overstep bounds and kiss you again." Then he spun on his heel and hurried away with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Clark!"

But he kept going and turned the corner.