Disclaimer: Lois Lane, Clark Kent and Smallville belong to WB and DC.

Author's Notes: I have always wanted to write a fic exploring Clark and Lois' love-hate relationship (in the TV show), so I decided to give it a shot, hence this fic. This is also inspired by U2's song of the same title. Many thanks (in advance) to those who will read and review.

With or Without You

It's been a while since the last time they saw each other. Not that she misses him or anything. It's just…life's a bit boring without anyone to argue with. And they're good at that. Arguing.

And besides…there's nothing wrong with visiting a friend, right?
And he's been through a lot. She's been through a lot.
You can't exactly blame her if she's looking for someone to talk to over cups of piping hot coffee and a box of donuts. Or someone to listen to, or who will listen to her.

Taking a deep breath and smiling to herself, Lois Lane step out of her car, took the boxes of donuts and Styrofoam cups of take-out coffee she brought with her as a peace offering (just in case), and started to walk towards the Kent family farm.
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Here he is again, staring out the window of his so-called place of solitude, gazing into the late afternoon sky. Like any normal day. Sometimes he thinks too much, feel too much, it hurts. And after all that he has been through, right now he can't think of nor feel anything. And yet, he's hurting. He was contented watching the colors bleed out of the sky as the sun began to set, when he sensed someone climbing up the stairs to where he is.

And immediately, he knew who it was. Like instinct, he recognized the careful, measured footsteps, heard every little sigh and every beat of the heart. She shouldn't be here. No one should be here…right now. He wanted to be alone. Or at least he'd like to think so. He can never tell her to go away, really, even if he wanted to. There was just something in her that called to him, whatever that is. And even if he told her to go away, he'd bet she wouldn't listen anyway. She never really listened to anyone, most of all, to him. If he knew himself any better though, he'd say he wanted the company.

"Brooding again, Smallville?"

Clark turned around to see Lois Lane smiling that smile of hers, that smile that hinted mischief…and something else. He never really deciphered the meaning behind it.

He can't help not to return the greeting with the barest of smiles. "Lois."

"My, my Smallville. Is it just me, are you actually glad to see me?"

She came closer to invade his private space, all the while holding on to those boxes of who-knows-what, and looked him square in the eye. "Missed me, Smallville? It's been what, almost a– "

"A month and a half. And I was hoping I wouldn't have to see you again for another month or so. A year even. But the gods of the cosmos are always conspiring against me." He shrugged. "So what brought you here? Gods of the cosmos decided it's punish-Clark-Kent day?"

Instead of getting annoyed at his rather rude and sarcastic welcome remark, Lois actually grinned and playfully pinched his left cheek. "Aw, you did missed me, Smallville. I'm touched."

"Yeah. And there have been reports of frost in hell." Clark answered too soberly, Lois didn't know whether to laugh or take him seriously. "What did I do to have the pleasure of seeing you again?"

"Well, I just, you know," Lois began, shrugging for effect, all the while looking for the right words to say. "wanted to know if you're doing alright after…" she bit her lip, debating on whether or not to continue what she was about to say, but in the end, decided to. There was really no use to try and go around the subject. He'll get what she meant one way or another anyway. "…Lana. You know, you and her breaking up, and this happening after, well, after your dad died. I know it's hard, but I just wanted to know if you're…ok."

There was a moment of silence. Lois hated awkward, tension-filled moments of silence. It made her feel trapped and suffocated. So she talked. She always talked to avoid those moments, because those moments of silence were also moments of vulnerability. And she hated being vulnerable as well.

"So?" she interjected. "How you holding up?"

Clark considered the question for a moment as he placed his hands on the pockets of his jeans and stared out the window once more. How was he holding up? Suppose he could lie and say all's good. Suppose he could lie and say all's bad. Suppose he can be honest and tell her he's actually doing ok for someone in his position. Lois was the last person he expected to care enough to ask him about his welfare, let alone come here and ask him personally if he's doing alright. Most people would probably just leave him alone, and try to understand. Or pretend to understand. But he guess he was tired of that – people trying to understand, pretending to or otherwise. But Lois was different. She's as blunt as a baseball bat, and she never really tried to understand him…just accepted him for who he is, no questions asked. It was refreshing, to not have to explain yourself to anyone. And to just have someone tell him straight out what the heck they thought of him. And straight out tell you that they care about you, although try to be discreet about it, and fail. The faintest of smiles graced his lips before he turned to look at her again.

"Nice to know you care, Lois."

That didn't have the effect he wanted to achieve though (make her smile, speechless even). Lois was rather taken aback by his reply. Here she was, genuinely concerned about his welfare, wanting to know if he's killing himself from too much moping around or whatever Clark-Kent-thing he does whenever tragedy strikes, and she gets a bitter and sarcastic remark. Well, she'll give him a piece of her mind.

"I am not joking about being concerned about your welfare, Clark. I came here to talk, because maybe you wanted someone to talk to, someone who'll listen to what you have to say. And I really wanted to know if you're ok, because, for chrissakes, your girlfriend just left you right after your father died, you know, one effing loss after another. I don't know what you think of me, but I do consider you a friend, one of the few I've got mind you, and here you are–"

Certainly not the effect he wanted. "Lois–"

"Is it wrong to be concerned about someone you actually care for? Yes? Why, pardon me for being a good friend and asking 'How you doing?'! Don't worry, I'll never intrude on your brooding session again just to–"

"Lois–" Clark tried to interrupt her for the second time, but once again failed miserably.

"Let me finish! I care about you Clark, I really do! Maybe you think I don't because I argue with you all the time, but I do, and well, pardon me for coming here to know whether you're already dead from too much angst and brooding! Nice to know I care! Maybe I shouldn't have cared at all!"

And she closed her eyes for a while and breathed rhythmically as she tried to regain her composure. The nerve of this…this depressingly dense prick. Ugh. How she hated him. Hated him to bits…and yet be really concerned about him at the same time. She can't decide right now.

"Lois? Are you finished with your soliloquy?" Clark inquired. He'd been awfully patient and calm during her outburst. Not a good sign.

Slowly, Lois opened her eyes.

"Yeah. Guess I am."

"Good. Because I have to clear some things. When I said nice to know you care, I meant it in a good, sincere way. Because it's really nice to know you're concerned about my welfare. I wasn't being rude or sarcastic or resentful. I was being grateful."

And he was. She can see it in his eyes.

Lois opened her mouth to say something.

"Well." And again, "Well."

She grinned sheepishly as she felt herself blushing, and at a total loss for words for the first time in her life.

"I, um, brought donuts and coffee." She said instead, as she raised the carton boxes and styrofoam cups she had all but forgotten.

And then…she didn't know why, or how, but at that very moment Clark just…laughed.

And the sound of it was good…as it felt good to Clark, who had been, finally, able to laugh for the first time in months. He can't explain it, but she's the only one who made her feel this way. A mix of amusement and irritation and…and he realized, in a bemused sort of way, that he's staring at Lois. She's pretty, in the right light, in the right angle…

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Clark reached out a hand to tuck some stray strands of her hair behind her ear. And then he trailed his hands downwards to her cheeks, to her lips, which was currently fixed in a confused pout, and traced them with a finger.

"Clark…?"

He just smiled. "You talk too much, you know."
And that said, he leaned closer, and their lips met.

The box of donuts and styrofoam cups of coffee came crashing into the floor unnoticed.

This isn't supposed to happen.

When you're kissing the woman you despise most in the world, it isn't supposed to knock the living daylights out of you. Same can be said in kissing the man you believe to be the greatest dork in the history of mankind.

The man, or the woman, you hate isn't supposed to taste sweet and heavenly, and your heart isn't supposed to be beating like mad and doing double takes, and your knees aren't supposed to suddenly turn weak and shaky.

Yet, how come they feel this way? How come it felt…right, perfect. Like they belong.

Slowly, awkwardly, they pull out of each other's embrace.

It was Lois who said something first. As always.

"Did we just…kissed?"

Clark's mouth formed an amused sort of grin as he gazed into the woman he can and can't live without. "We just did. Wanna do it again?"

"You wish, Smallville."

And that said, Lois smiled that smile of hers, the one that was meant for him. Only for him.

FIN