Title: We always fail destiny

Spoilers: Up to 'Power' then goes AU

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit.


Placing the phone onto the floor, Lois stared at the refrigerator, sleek and black. Most of Bruce's belongings were dark, sharp, fundamentally useful in some way.

The day she'd met him it'd been raining, pouring cats and dogs and showing no signs of faltering. Her umbrella had allowed her to keep her strong pace, the sidewalk her foundation against the boots she'd dragged out from her closet. She'd seen him only because he stood out from the rest, no umbrella, no taped over newspaper or weary briefcase, a hat tipped forward with a long black jacket buttoned over his tall frame, but that had been it. He'd been walking, carelessly oblivious to the rain judging by his slow trudge down the street, hands in his pockets.

They met at the door. He'd held it open for her, a hint of a smile at the very recess of his lips. She'd given a 'thanks', a nearly smitten smile that was on its way to form her name, but then he was a vision of black walking away from her.

The next time she'd seen him had been six days later, ripe in the evening, lonely during the week. Stopping with the files in her hands gaining tremendous weight, she took in his body sitting in the chair of the desk across from her. 'A ghost,' she'd thought, stepping over her grave. He never sat there again.

There was no doubt she was in love with Bruce Wayne, his faults, his stoicism, his being. So why was the look on Clent's face, the feel of his single digit on her skin and the draw of his soul keeping her awake?

Clark stopped before he reached the house, the near ruining of the barn causing him to swallow in shame as he heard his father's condemnation. He remembered it standing red, solid, whole, not like a shadow bitten by time and neglect. There was a sound of air moving too fast and Clent was suddenly beside him, looking in the same direction.

"I can't believe it's been like this, Clent."

"All that matters is you're here to fix it now."

Even as he berated himself, Clark felt himself bite a smile and he threw his suitcase onto the faded porch of the house before walking toward his home away from home to begin the repairs.

"Clent, do you realize you sounded like our dad!?"

They were falling, fast, hard, unsteady, into the night over the fruited plains and amber waves of grain. Lois rolled off the chair and onto the floor, hitting the refrigerator ungracefully with her head and pounding her left foot into the cabinet.

"Malcom!"

There was too much sound, too much wind, too many beepings emitting from the cockpit. She crawled on her hands and her knees, shuddering when the jet did, falling onto her stomach when a dangerous dip knocked them even faster into their fatal destination.

"Malcom! Damnit, answer me!"

She aimed for the doorknob, jamming her body against the wall and wrenching the door forward before throwing herself onto the carpeted floor where all hell had broken loose.

"Malcom!"
"Miss Lane! Find a parachute!"

"What happened?!"

His muscles were knotted red, the energy of righting the monstrosity taking its toll and with no mercy. He shook his head and freed a hand, waving her away.

"We're not going to make it! We'll have to jump!"

She watched him begin to throw the parachute on, the sounds of the buckles loud in her ears even though there was no earthly way she could have picked up the sound. Closing her eyes, Lois took one deep breath to calm herself, and before she could end her thoughts, her voice said them aloud.

"Bruce, let this damn thing work!" Her lips wavered then, loose and noncommittal, surprising her. "Clent."

His name pierced through everything, stopping him dead cold in his tracks and nearly knocking Clark in the head with the two by fours he was carting around. The lumber dropped, a freefall of uneven thuds in the memory of his presence as he flew out of the barn.

"Lois!"

Lois sank, searing through the sky and trying to look over her shoulder to see if Malcom was behind her. He was. He was coming straight for her, arms limp and legs wide, the white of his outfit a beacon in the dusky sky.

"Malcom!" she screamed, a whisper that traveled only so far before the rushing air and opposite gravitational pull sucked it up and never gave it back.

Without hesitating she gripped the collar behind his neck in both her hands before forcing her legs around his waist, losing her balance and sending them spinning, spiraling lopsided as if in an acrobatic air show. Her energy slipping, her eyesight dry, she fumbled to tie them together, somehow and some way before she had to let the parachute inside her sack free.

And then she was no longer free falling.

"I've got you. Don't worry."

Lois looked up, her eyes widening in disbelief as she then looked to her feet to find them no longer obeying gravity, but defying the notion.

"You've got me?! But who's got you?!"

His chest moved against her body and she knew the chuckle nearly reached her ears, but she was suddenly attuned to the shape of his neck, the sharp angle of his mandible, and the grey streak marking his temple in his midnight black hair.

Mute, she gawked at him for long seconds before his head turned to look at her. The past few days of her life ran through her mind in jumbles muttered in stationary semi-circles which connected in that instant she found his eyes.

"Oh, my God. Clent!?"

And then all she saw was black.

"I guess," Lois shook her head, "I just didn't think it would be this hard."

He took one step forward but she raised a hand in the air, stopping him as though a wall of kryptonite had formed in front of him.

"What are you saying, Lois?"

She looked away from him, trying to stop the tears and knowing the only way was to say this without watching his reaction, being the coward she never thought she'd be.

"You're…Superman, Clark. And I am," she broke, finding his blue eyes burning into her. "And always will be so proud of you."

"Lois, don't do this."

A sound emitted from her throat, a near cry as she kept her voice.

"I know you love me and I love you. But the world needs you more than I do, and I think, maybe you need the world more than you need me."

"That's not true!"

Lois bit her lip and brought a hand to control the fallen tears sliding quietly down her cheek. She held the ring in her fingers for a second longer before placing it on the counter, nearly colliding into a wall of grief when his eyes started to glisten.

"Lois?"

"Goodbye, Clark."

He'd left her. Lois stood outside the hospital, discharge papers tucked into the back pocket of her jeans along with a card marred with the number to call for updates on Malcom's surgery. She sat on the park bench, a metal seat barely tolerant of her weight and creaking in the darkened evening. Her glance darted around to her surroundings, taking in everything or trying to at least.

She bit her lip. "Come out, wherever you are."

There was nothing, not even a stray person ambling past with a cup of coffee set to get them through the night. Maybe, just maybe, she was wrong. Lois considered it a moment, one moment too long because she knew without a doubt the man who'd saved her tonight was the same man she'd said goodbye just hours ago.

"Clent. Now."

A breeze, a rustle, and then a weight on her shoulder. Lois whirled on the bench, fingers gripping the railings as she looked up at an ordinary looking man with ordinary seeming clothes. Quickly, she rose, body turning to face him and keeping the seat between them for protection. She swallowed, the words flowing with her saliva and tumbling down her esophagus. Lois frowned as she looked him up and down again, trying to tell herself she had just been in his arms thousands of miles above the ground.

"Who the hell are you?"

He could feel it in her pounding tone, the fear surging through her but the curiosity greater. Clent told himself it didn't hurt when he stepped forward and she took a step back from him.

"Lois, don't be scared. I can explain everything." His hands in the air, palms forward, face relaxed, he signaled truce. "But not here."

Lois let her eyes wander around them, taking in the darkness and the open space lit up by the hospital lights.

"Where?"

"Smallville," he replied. "With Clark."

Tucked behind the hospital, an empty ambulance shielding them from view, Lois stopped behind Clent, her feet sharp against the ground. He turned around slowly, giving her a wide berth and extending a hand out towards her. She immediately froze, one hand at her side and the other near her chest. Her eyes looked up to his, barely visible in the darkness but bright none the less. There was a quiver in his posture and she wondered if he was as afraid of her as much as she was of him.

"Clent…."

His mouth softened; his palm flattened, an invitation still. She bit her tongue as her foot slid forward, silent on the concrete and wavering in her doubt. It wasn't until her fingerpads touched his that the last of her fear disappeared, gone with his touch and the gentle reassurance of the covering of his own fingers on hers. Lois felt her forehead wrinkle as the space between them emptied to mere centimeters and she heard the intake of his breath when she let her other hand rest on his broad chest.

Slowly, his right arm wound around her waist and this time she was the one to lose her breath when he lifted her up on his chest and then dropped her so her shoes stood on top of his boots. Her left hand gripped his, intertwined now.

"Hold my glasses?"

The deepness of his voice caused her to swallow, but her right hand shakily met the frame of the black glasses and delicately removed them without touching his skin. He watched her, eyes boldly warm and she knew this wasn't right. She couldn't be feeling this, with him, now. He shouldn't be looking at her like that, not here.

"Ready, Miss Lane?"

There was a moment, bright and clearly defined where she realized this was a mistake. This was not how her life was supposed to lead, and if she did this, trusted him, everything would change. She just knew that her crossroad was underneath her, and what scared her the most was that this path felt better.

"Yes," she whispered.