Lois made her way down the hall and through the unremarkable door to the stairs to the roof access. She'd finally managed to slip away from the Planet's overcrowded Christmas party in the bullpen with her cigarettes and lighter without Clark diverting her. Her pride at having made it as far without detection as she had waned when she saw him standing at the top of the stairs, lounging with one arm up against the door jamb; she half expected to see him with a cigarette of his own.
He looked very noir, standing up in the doorway. He wore the dark tuxedo that almost fit him, complete with bow tie, cummerbund and white shirt without coffee stains, and the black fedora he wore every day to work. He was just standing there looking out at the Metropolis nightscape soaked with the downpour Lois had forgotten about when she'd begun the escape-to-smoke maneuver.
"Why, Mr. Kent, you're looking very noir tonight," she said, making her way up the stairs to join him in the doorway, looking out at the night. They were protected from the rain by the slight overhang above the door. The only light came from the rotating globe on the roof above. It was very film noir indeed.
"Yesiree, sweethart," Clark said, turning to grin at her and affecting a Chicago accent. He looked as though he'd stepped right out of a black-and-white crime film from the 1920s. Lois couldn't help but smile. She lit a cigarette and put it to her lips, watching as Clark frowned at her, but, unusually, he smiled when she exhaled and they were ringed with a lingering haze. "I' was a dark an' stormy nigh' and she was beau'iful. Beau'iful and dangrous. She foun' me in da stairwell, watchin' da rain an' da moon; i' had been a quie' nigh' fer crime before she foun' me, came up to me innoccen'-like. A silen' killer."
"Are you suggesting I could kill you with my bare hands, Clark?" Lois asked, putting a hand to her chest and looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Because it's so nice to have my talents appreciated every now and again…"
"Actually, I was referring to the cigarette in your hand," Clark smirked, nodding to the cancer-stick propped between her first two fingers.
"They should get you to do ads," Lois chuckled, dutifully snuffing it out with the toe of her strappy high-heeled shoe. He wasn't the only one who looked as though he'd stepped out of a classic film—she wore a long plum-colored cocktail dress with a swooping neckline and no back, it was elegant in its own, flirtatious, way, paired with her mother's gold necklace-earrings combination and her hair pulled back into a more elegant than flirtatious French twist. With him in the bright red bow tie and cummerbund, they hardly matched, but they weren't mismatched, either. She thought their outfits made a nice metaphor for the way they fit together as people, but she'd never admit to thinking that much about Clark Kent, not even to the man himself.
"Nah, I'm too gangly for television," Clark said, still smirking, turning to look out at the cityscape again.
"Hardly. All the big movie stars are tall. You've got the face for it, if you'd just ditch the glasses…"
"I like my glasses."
"But you have such pretty eyes!"
"I could never wear contacts. You know you have to touch your eyes to put those things in?" he shuddered dramatically. "No, thank you."
"Ah, my dear bumbling hayseed of a partner, too chicken to come into the twentieth century."
"I like my glasses."
"If you say so," Lois replied in her patient, you'll-come-over-to-my-side-eventually tone. It had been their continuing argument since the first month of their partnership and neither side had yet shown signs of backing down.
"An' now, sweethart, whaddya say you an' me go on downstairs and show dem guys how ta dance?"
Laughing despite herself, Lois let him lead her back down the stairs to the elevator, then the bullpen, where he did indeed pull her out onto the dance floor. While he stepped on her toes more than a few times, he wasn't a half-bad dancer, which she'd been partially aware of before that night. The bruises on her feet faded, but his use of 'sweetheart' in casual conversation didn't, and Lois was surprised to realize she didn't mind.