Lois flopped into the uncomfortable plastic seat with a sigh.
She looked at the bank of TVs balefully, willing the clocks to be wrong.
Her plane had arrived an hour early from Arizona.
Dad had insisted that she visit him at his latest post during her spring break, but she had insisted on taking a few days to visit Chloe. She had hoped to join Chloe on a whirlwind road trip, but Chloe had surprised her by deciding to spend her own spring break visiting Uncle Gabe in Smallville. Brushing her shoulder length brown hair behind her, Lois dallied with the idea of calling Chloe, then changed her mind. The TV announcer droned on about some sort of conflict in a distant country she'd never heard of as she unpacked her laptop.
She would just have to wait.
Well, at least she could get some of her homework done. She had a project due in advance copy editing due after the break. The screen flickered to life, the bright blue neon of the Daily Planet sign shining against the dark red background. The minute sound of her short nails on the keys was met by soft clicks on her left. She finished her first clean sweep of the piece on expanding the Metropolis animal shelters to include reptiles and saved the file, double clicking and leaning back, stretching the muscles in her neck. Her screen saver whirred to life in front of her: a series of whirling faux headlines Chloe made to encourage her, watch of which held her name in bold in the byline: "Crime Syndicate Foiled In Midnight Heist- by LOIS LANE."
"CEO Caught In Sex Scandal-by LOIS LANE"
"Electoral College Tied In 11th Hour Vote-by LOIS LANE"
The minute click of the keys now muted, she turned her head towards the source of the sound.
Another click, and a white pawn was ushered off a miniature chess set by a long fingered hand.
Seated beside her, the owner of the dark pieces sat back, musing.
Lois found herself trying not to stare as she realized he was playing himself.
He was a year or two older than her, his dark hair swept to the side in a conservative cut. His long black trench coat draped over the sides of the dark yellow plastic of the airport chair over a black pullover with a dull gold stripe at the collar. Cold blue eyes studied the chessboard as he laced his fingers and rested his elbows on his knees. He had been so quiet, she hadn't even noticed when he sat down next to her.
She went back to her assignment after a long wondering moment. When he spoke a few minutes later, it was so quiet that she almost missed hearing him.
"So you work for The Planet, Ms Lane?", he said, sweeping a black bishop off the board and placing it in a bag by his side.
Lois started slightly, then relaxed. Just the usual small talk that people find themselves in when they are terminally bored. "Not yet.. though I have had a few pieces published."
"Anything I would have read?," he said, looking up at her with eyes so clear they were almost opaque in the harsh light.
"Yes." she said, firmly, then paused. "No." Just as firmly. Then, "Maybe."
"Well, then there's a story.," he said, smiling at her.
Lois grinned lopsidedly. "My cousin put my name on a few stories once."
The cute stranger looked up, interested.
"One was an expose on a mental lab in Metropolis.... Summerholt....," she started.
"You wrote that? I should thank you, then. You stopped me from making a bad investment."
She looked him up and down. He couldn't have been over 22, at the most.
"An investment? Of what? Your piggy bank?"
The stranger smiled a taut, thin, fleeting smile before focusing again on his game. "My parents left me a little money to play with."
Lois felt rather than heard the weight that came behind the words. "I'm sorry."
He nodded, as if it was something so normal that he barely noticed. There was a sound like a small siren and the young man pulled a small bright red cell phone out of his pants pocket. The Caller ID glowed: "A.P"
"Yes? What is it?" He listened intently, and then started to spout a long string of technobabble. After a few minutes he closed the phone and put it back in his pocket, pulling out a black keychain shaped like a chess Knight out of the pocket and rubbing it between his fingers thoughtfully.
"Now that sounds like a story." Lois said, grinning.
"You know how it is.. once you're over 50 you can't even figure out a microwave." he said.
"You must have one hell of a microwave." Lois said, puzzled.
"Where are you headed?" he said, smoothly changing the subject.
Lois sighed. "Smallville. You?"
"Nepal."
"Trying to free Tibet?"
"Something like that..I'm taking advanced martial arts lessons from a master there."
Lois' eyebrows raised. "Now that's a spring break I'd like to have."
"Why don't you?," he said, coolly.
"My judo belt is fine where it is, thanks. Not to mention that I hate flying..when I don't have to." Lois looked up, and blinked.
She would have recognized that red flannel shirt anywhere.
There, coming out of the crowd towards the seating area was a tall, dark haired young man dressed in scuffed work boots and faded denim jeans.
Clark.
Clark Kent.
She wondered who he had come to see, his face so tense, you would think he was headed towards an executioner. "Seen someone you know?," the chess-player said, following her eyes.
Lois shook her head, almost in wonder. "Yes...I haven't seen him in ages...a friend of my cousin's." She smiled at her cagey airport companion. Clark walked up to the terminal, and Lois saw a spark kindle in his eyes as they met hers. He walked towards her with that serious, tense look, then paused as he saw the young man who leaned casually towards her across the impersonal furniture.
Lois smiled. "Hi! Are you here with Chloe?" she said, suddenly putting two and two together. "Where is she?"
He swallowed, grinning a little too widely. "She..she was running late..she asked me to come pick you up."
The dark haired young man had turned to look at Clark with an inscrutable look. Then Lois saw the small bouquet of flowers he was almost crushing in his farmboy grip.
She frowned, puzzled. "Who are those for?"
Clark looked down at the bouquet as if he was trying to remember why they were in his hand, like his hand was a foreign object. "Oh..these..um..Chloe..Chloe sent them."
"Lois stood and took the flowers, turning them in her hand. "Aww..that's sweet of Chlo..she's not normally this sentimental." She looked up from the buds to see the two men staring at each other.
It was an odd moment.
One she would remember years later.
But for now she ran a hand to her forehead and laughed. "I'm sorry.. Clark Kent, this is.. what did you say your name is?" she said.
"Bruce. Bruce Wayne," said the dark haired young man, slowly stretching out a hand, his face caught in a slight smile. Clark smiled back, his face oddly tense as they shook hands. Lois wondered idly if she was witnessing some ancient male ritual. Then she grabbed her bag and grinned at Bruce. "It was nice to meet you, she said, holding out her hand.
To her surprise, he took it and kissed her knuckles. "Til next time, Ms Lane," he said.
His eyes glittered, as he said: "Look me up if you're ever in Gotham. I owe you for the stock tip, at the very least." Lois blushed slightly. Clark coughed.
Lois smiled as she walked through the airport parking lot to the battered red truck. She swirled the bouquet between her hands as she slid into the passenger seat. She watched the Kansas scenery flow by her window and looked down at the flowers in her lap. "Funny..Chlo's allergic to daisies..I wonder why she let them put them in the bouquet," she mused.
Clark shifted in his seat, not taking his eyes from the road ahead, "Oh...is she?" he said. Lois looked down into the colorful blooms and smiled softly.
White Knight to Black Knight's 3.
That's the final move.
Check, she thought.