Have I mentioned that you all are the best? Thank you so much for all the positive reviews! They certainly encourage me to keep the next installments coming as quickly as possible, though I've been working a lot of 16 hour days lately, which is why there's been such lag. Hopefully my writing hasn't gone down as a consequence! We'll see!
April
"Clark, you've been my partner and a good friend of mine for a while now, so don't get me wrong. You mean a lot to me. But there's two of us and only one piece of pie left, so I'm afraid we're left with only two options. You can put down the plate and back away slowly, or I can recite a very touching eulogy at your funeral." Normally, Lois would not get so territorial over a dessert, but the two of them happened to be visiting the Kent farm for the weekend and the pie in question was baked by Martha Kent herself. It was a brave man indeed who dared stand between Lois and Mrs. Kent's baked goods.
Clark paused, the fork poised halfway to his mouth. "That's a pretty serious threat, there, Lois. You sure you can back it up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning at her.
"Smallville, I was taught how to fight by guys in Special Forces; it's one of the perks of being General Lane's daughter. I'm sure taking you down won't be much of a problem," she retorted as she squared off against him from across the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"Even if that's true, Lois, you can't fight what you can't catch!" Clark challenged with a gleam in his eye.
"Oh, and catching you is supposed to be difficult?" she scoffed. "I think you should know, I run ten miles every morning." In all honesty it was more like eight. Or six. Most mornings. Okay, some mornings. But she meant to run ten miles every morning, and she felt like that should count for something. "I know you used to be the star quarterback of the football team, but it's been …what? Ten years? I hate to tell you this, but you've been working a desk too long, Clarkie. If you look closely, I'm pretty sure you'll find a lot of that muscle turned to fat a long time ago." The fact that Lois was bluffing didn't bother her at all. True, she'd worked closely enough with Clark since they became partners to know that he was in pretty good shape, but just because she was aware of it didn't mean she was willing to stroke his ego by admitting as much.
"I think that sounds like a challenge, Miss Lane," he drawled and grinned anew at the glare she threw him. Then, very deliberately, he scooped a large chunk of pie onto his fork and popped it into his mouth. While he made exaggerated sounds of gustatory ecstasy, Lois shrieked in unholy rage and darted around the island. Clark almost choked on his pie through a snort of laughter as he took off into the living room, Lois fast on his heels.
"Clark Kent! You bring me back that pie this minute!" she yelled as she chased after him. It was probably for the best that the two of them were home alone at the moment, as Lois's pride might have taken a serious blow if anyone had seen him lead her on a merry chase throughout the first floor of the house, always managing to stay just inches in front of her.
He finally managed to get enough distance on her to take refuge behind the kitchen table, and Lois took the opportunity to catch her breath, as she was almost panting from her exertions. She'd always thought she was in good shape, since (aside from her occasional lapse in keeping to her running schedule) she kept to a fairly strict exercise regimen, but she was beginning to think she was going to have to step it up a notch. Somehow, beyond all reason, her adversary didn't even seem winded. Lois's eyes narrowed. Clearly, this meant war.
"You giving up?" he taunted her as they danced back and forth along the sides of the table. She kept her eyes trained closely on him, waiting for him to make his move towards the exit so she could cut him off at the pass.
"Are you kidding?" she scoffed. "I'm lulling you into a false sense of security. I'd hate to break your fragile ego by beating you too quickly."
"Well, that's very considerate of you, Lois. I didn't know you had it in you." She snorted in response, trying to hide the smile that was trembling at the corners of her mouth. She'd be enjoying this entirely too much if the matter wasn't so dire, but this was quickly turning into a matter of life or death. She could smell the cherries from where she was standing. "You know, we really don't have to fight over this. My mom would no doubt be willing to make another pie for you tonight if you ask her," he teased.
Lois rolled her eyes and let out a snort of laughter. "Clark, you've been working with me for a while now. In all that time, what could possibly have convinced you that I'm even capable of such patience?"
"Well, patience is a virtue," he reprimanded her as he cut off another bite of pie.
"Not one of mine!" she snarled in return, her eyes following the path the fork took to his mouth. Her mouth was watering, and he was definitely asking for trouble!
"It's not too late to turn over a new leaf!" he reminded her in an encouraging tone, or in what would probably have been an encouraging tone if he hadn't spoken around a mouthful of pie, and the chase was on again. His laughter and her shrieks of outrage echoed as they ran through the kitchen, around the table in the dining room, and in circles around the living room couch. For a brief minute or two, the pursuit even continued outside.
Finally, just when she was beginning to think there was something inhuman about Clark's ability to remain one step ahead of her, the chase ended. Lois took advantage of an opening presented to her when Clark tripped and stumbled just as he was about to make a break up the stairs. Quick as a flash, she tackled him around the waist and held on tight.
"Ha!" she exclaimed with satisfaction as she tried to catch her breath. "Who's faster now?" she asked in a taunting voice as he turned to meet her eyes. Keeping a tight hold on him with one hand so he didn't make a break for it, she stood on her tiptoes and stretched the other as high as she could to try to get the plate that Clark deftly raised just out of her reach.
With a chuckle, Clark grinned and stretched his defending arm even higher above his head. "And who's taller?"
"That's okay. I fight dirty." Suddenly, with a judo move she'd found particularly helpful over the years, Lois tightened the hold she had on Clark's torso as she swept his feet from under him. She was gratified when her efforts caused him to fall backwards onto the stairs with a satisfying thump, but it was with chagrin that she discovered a serious miscalculation with her technique. At the last second, he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her down with him.
Her shock at finding herself suddenly on Clark's lap as opposed to smirking down at him, coupled with the look of chagrin on his face, was too much for her to bear, and she couldn't contain her laughter any longer. Peals of it echoed throughout the house, the pie temporarily forgotten as she threw her head back in unrestrained glee and reveled in the moment. Lois never did anything halfway.
"I caught you, Mr. Kent!" she crooned in victory as her laughter subsided and she fought to regain her breath. "To the victor go the spoils!" Then, in a magnanimous tone, she teased, "Since we're such good friends, Clark, I won't make you grovel too much before I forgive you. Feel free to start at any time, and if you want to throw in a compliment or two to soften me up, I won't hold it against you."
"That's awfully big of you, Miss Lane," he said with a grin that belied his grave tone.
Lois was about to make another scathing remark when her eyes met Clark's, and her mirth died suddenly in her throat. She'd just realized the position in which she had unwittingly placed herself, straddling Clark's lap on the stairs, her arms still wrapped around him, their faces very close together. He seemed to realize the implications of their position at about the same time. His eyes widened suddenly as he looked up at her, and he too stopped laughing. She gulped. All of a sudden, things had gotten a bit too quiet and entirely too serious. The lighthearted moment was gone, and there was a new level of tension in the air that she had absolutely no intention of exploring.
Lois's brain scrambled for a graceful way to extricate herself from this situation, but, while it was so preoccupied, she found that herself somehow leaning even closer to the man beneath her. It wasn't until she heard the sound of a throat clearing behind her that whatever moment she and Clark were sharing was effectively broken. Turning her upper body to face the intrusion, Lois found Mrs. Kent gazing with great interest upon the tableau Lois and Clark formed. The sound of heels on wood followed, and their audience was joined by the ethereal beauty that was the sweetheart of Smallville, Kansas, and ex-girlfriend to Clark Kent himself: Lana Lang.
Realizing the implications of the situation, Lois exclaimed, hearing Clark do likewise, "This isn't what it looks like!" Then, Lois lunged forward and grabbed the plate from the steps above the two of them before she scrambled to her feet and met both sets of surprised glances with a wide smile. She heard Clark start to rise to his feet behind her and thrust her hand behind her back quickly in an effort to help him up. As he was rising, she had to restrain the urge to take a moment to run her fingers through her hair and straighten her outfit. Though she was not the type to feel self-conscious about her appearance, she was suddenly aware of how disheveled and sweaty she'd become in the past ten minutes. Under the circumstances, her appearance would imply a course of events that had not actually taken place, and she was eager to dispel that misconception. It also didn't help that Lana looked as radiant and flawless as ever.
"Hey, Mrs. Kent. Lana," she finally blurted, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You must be really confused about all this, but there's a perfectly rational explanation, really." She cleared her throat and continued in as reasonable a tone as she could manage, "You see, Clark stole my pie and I had to retrieve it." To prove her point, she thrust Exhibit A: The Plate in front of the two staring women.
"Your pie?" Lana repeated in obvious confusion, staring at the object that Lois held victoriously in her hand. Lois followed her gaze and realized that two bites of crust were all that remained of a once-beautiful and delicious slice of cherry-filled heaven on earth.
"You ate it? All of it?" she hissed in indignation at the man behind her.
"It was delicious; I couldn't resist. And I did leave you the crust!" he whispered, a hint of laughter in his voice. In affront, Lois elbowed blindly behind her and was gratified to hear his grunt as she nudged him hard in the ribs.
"Well, that there is no pie is really not important. It was the principle of the thing, you see," she continued lamely, throwing a glare over her shoulder at the man behind her. In return, he had the audacity to look not even the least bit sheepish.
"I see," Martha cut in, sounding as if she really didn't but was trying very hard to pretend as if she did. "But Lois, honey, there's a whole pie waiting for you both in the oven. I knew you'd probably be hungry when you arrived. I left a note…"
Her attention completely diverted by this new information, Lois whirled on the man behind her and cried in an accusatory tone, "A note? What note?"
"Oh, you mean this?" Clark sounded entirely too satisfied with himself as he pulled a note out of his pocket. "'Clark and Lois, I had to run to the Talon for a couple hours. I'm not sure how long I'll be, but if I'm not back by the time you arrive, feel free to make yourselves at home. Mom. P.S. There's a cherry pie in the oven if the two of you are hungry.'" He smiled unrepentantly down at his irate partner as he shoved the slip of paper back in his pocket, completely unfazed by the murderous gleam in her eyes.
"How could you not tell me about that?" she growled up at him through clenched teeth.
"You didn't ask," he taunted her, cocking an eyebrow as he did so.
Lois's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe Smallville had managed to pull one over on her. In a low voice, she warned, "Oh, you're going to pay, mister. Mark my words. It'll pain me for a moment or two to see you reduced to tears, but I'm sure I can manage to overcome my despair to find some measure of satisfaction."
"Promises, promises," he murmured back with a grin.
Martha chose this moment to interrupt their exchange, no doubt in an attempt to forestall Lois chasing Clark around the house again, this time in earnest. Stepping forward to give each of them a quick hug, she explained, "It's good to see you two! Lana came into the Talon today for a visit, and I told her you two were going to be in town. She's eager to spend some time catching up with you both." As deftly as a commander negotiating her troops on a battlefield, Martha fussed over Lois until the younger woman's attention was deflected from her thoughts of revenge, then she said, "Well, I need to get dinner started. Why don't the three of you have a seat and take some time to catch up?"
"Mom, you know you don't have to do that. We can go out to eat toni-," Clark choked back the end of his sentence when Lois stomped hard on his foot in as surreptitious a way as she could manage.
"Are you nuts? What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. This time Clark was definitely going too far. First, he deprived her of pie, and now he was trying to deny her a home-cooked meal? She was going to have to have serious words with her partner at some point in the near future. Turning to her hostess she said in a bright tone as she tried to usher the two women towards the kitchen, "Don't mind him. Oxygen deprivation has gone to his head." Remembering their former positions and thinking of how her statement might be misconstrued, she rushed to explain, "All that running. We'd love to stay in tonight, Mrs. Kent! I'll help you cook, in fact!"
At her words, Clark jumped to intervene. "No!" he yelped as he lunged forward and wrapped his arm around Lois's waist to stop her from following the two ladies into the other room. "That's really not necessary, Lois. I'm sure my mom has it covered."
He released her when she turned to face him. "Are you trying to avoid spending time alone with Lana, or is your eagerness to keep me here a commentary of some sort on my cooking?" she muttered to him in a dark tone, keeping her voice low so neither Mrs. Kent nor Lana could overhear from the next room.
He pondered the question for a moment before answering, "It's a toss-up, really."
"Keep it up, Smallville, and you're going to be washing my car every day for a month!" she said in a threatening tone, but she couldn't help grinning as well. Lois was brilliant in many ways that did not extend to the kitchen, where her catastrophes were the stuff of legend. She looked towards the other room and gently pulled Clark aside in an attempt to avoid being overheard. Then she paused, took a deep breath, and asked before she could change her mind, "So, are you going to clear the air with Lana while you have the chance?"
All the humor left Clark's features so abruptly, it was almost like someone had flicked a switch inside him. His face became impassive, but the way he looked at her, Lois knew she was treading on dangerous ground. "Maybe you should leave it alone, Lois," he warned.
"I think we both know from experience that isn't going to happen," she retorted. They never really discussed this issue, but that never stopped her from trying. "Look, how many times have you told me that there are a lot of things you wish you'd said to her but never took the chance? You have a prime opportunity here, and you're telling me you're not going to take advantage of it?"
"Not everyone has to say what's on their mind twenty-four hours a day, whether it's appropriate or not, you know," he reminded her curtly as he ran a hand through his hair.
That stung a little, but Lois tried not to take the bait. He always went on the defensive when the subject of Lana arose, and Lois was sick of watching him do nothing about the issue. He needed to move on, and how many arguments was she going to have to drag him into before he admitted as much? "At least if there's something bothering me, I deal with it. I don't just sit back, wish things were different, and curse the world when nothing ever changes," she shot back.
Clark looked at her for a long moment, and she was sure the two of them were about to indulge in one of their famous disagreements. She knew this wasn't the right time or place; she should apologize, smile brightly for the women in the next room, and try to ignore Clark's inevitable moodiness after he finished spending time in Lana's presence. But sitting back and saying nothing was not something she had ever been able to convincingly do.
With a heavy sigh, Clark finally spoke. "Look, Lois, it's not what you…It's not that I want Lana back. I just wish…" His voice trailed off; he was clearly at a loss to explain just exactly it was that he wished. He looked away from her, glancing instead towards the other room, where Lana could be heard laughing at something Martha had said. After a moment, he continued, "Just leave it alone, okay? For right now, as a favor to me, can we not talk about this?"
Lois had to fight back the urge to groan, roll her eyes, throw things, hit her partner, or indulge in any number of other petty acts. She really hated this. She hated it every time he asked her not to pursue this topic, and she really hated it that she typically (if grudgingly) did as he asked because she hated to see the look in his eyes that he invariably got when talking about Lana and the past. It wasn't like taking the tactful route was something she ever enjoyed doing. It really didn't come easy to her, and it always made her feel annoyed with herself that she would choose to behave in a way that was against her nature.
But Clark was her friend, and he asked her to drop it, in the same way that he'd asked her to drop it when she'd asked him once what had been the cause of the breakup in the first place. During the time she'd been friends with Clark, he'd made the occasional off-handed remark that was tantalizing but ultimately uninformative, and there were many times that she'd been tempted to grill him until she ferreted out the truth. However, Lois had managed to refrain (upon his request), deciding that he would open up to her and discuss the issue if he wanted to do so, and accepting that she should leave it alone until that time came, if it ever did.
She was very, very close to breaking her resolve on the issue, but he was her friend, so what else could she do? At least for the moment. Hearing Mrs. Kent call the two of them from the other room, Lois resigned herself to the inevitable and said briskly, "Well, then, come on. I want to tell your mom every embarrassing thing you've done since we were here over Christmas." She linked her arm through Clark's as she spoke and dragged him with her into the kitchen, not leaving him time to protest.
In the kitchen, Lois, Clark, and Lana tried to assist their hostess in preparing that evening's meal, but after tripping over one or another of them for at least the twelfth time, Mrs. Kent shooed them out of the area and reassured them (as politely as possible, of course) that her job would be a lot easier if they were rather less present. She suggested that they go in the other room to talk, but everyone was reluctant to do so, as it would exclude her from the conversation. As a compromise, Lois, Clark, and Lana remained on the far side of the island so as to stay out of the busy woman's way, and, after a little prompting, Lois and Clark began to regale their audience with their latest achievements, as well as a few humorous near-catastrophes.
"So anyway," Lois said after a while, concluding her story, "That's how Clark and I ended up at the Planet at nine the next morning, still dressed in tux and gown but soaking wet and smelling like a sewer."
Clark chuckled at the memory. "You should have seen the look on Perry's face, Mom. He clearly didn't know whether to demand we stay to file our story or return home to shower first."
"Which did you do?" Lana asked through her giggles.
"We stayed of course!" Lois exclaimed as if the answer should have been obvious. "I have to say, it was the most peaceful day I've had at the Planet in a long time!" Lois grinned. It was a great story, though, like many great tales, it had seemed a lot less humorous at the time. In retrospect, it was one of the funnier things to have happened to her since she began work at the Planet, but the memory was still bittersweet for her. The incident was also the end of her relationship with Jack.
Lois had dated Jack for almost a year, and though he'd tried to accept that she loved her job and had the occasional problem juggling her personal and professional lives, he hadn't really understood that she wasn't in her line of work for the glory of seeing her name in print. She did it because she loved being an investigative reporter. It didn't matter what story she was breaking – whether she was uncovering corruption in the governor's office, health hazards at the Metropolis Nuclear Plant, or the sale of substandard beef to the city's schools. What was important was that there was a story out there, and she hadn't given up until she got it.
Sadly, the only thing that he was able to see was that she was willing to forgo an evening of dinner and dancing with him in favor of spending an evening exploring the charming facilities at Metropolis Municipal Waste. She tried to explain, but it had been the last in a long list of times she'd disappointed him or let him down. He told her he cared about her and wanted to be with her, but only if she promised to try to become less involved with work and put their relationship first. She couldn't do that, and she wasn't about to beg him to stay. When he'd walked out the door, she'd let him.
At the memory, Lois sighed, feeling a twinge of regret. She wasn't sorry that she'd chosen her career; the Daily Planet was almost like a second home for her, and she loved being a reporter. But she had liked Jack a lot. She'd thought there was really something between them, and she did miss having him around. Then again, she shouldn't be surprised that it ended badly; her luck with the opposite sex hadn't exactly been overwhelming in the past ten years or so.
Lost in thought, Lois almost didn't register Clark grabbing her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. She turned to look at him, only to find him staring with great interest into the bottom of his coffee cup. She smiled in appreciation of the gesture, even though she knew he hadn't liked Jack very much while she was dating him and hadn't been very good at pretending that he was sorry the two of them had broken up. Though he'd offered her comfort immediately after the event, she'd been too proud to take it, and once Lois reassured him that she wasn't overcome in a paroxysm of grief over the split, he'd pretty much given up the pretense of being sorry to see Jack go. But, then again, if he'd had a habit of lobbing a grenade in the middle of her love life when they lived in Smallville together as teenagers, it had become almost something of an avocation for him since they became partners. Still, she appreciated that knew what she was thinking about and was trying to make her feel better, even though it also disturbed her a bit that he'd come to know her so well.
Lois shifted uncomfortably and released Clark's hand. In an effort to get her mind off its current musings, she said, "But, if you guys want to hear a really funny story, Clark should tell you about the time that he got us locked in the back of a semi on its way to Utah!"
Clark groaned at the memory, but Lois had accomplished her objective and was able to enjoy the story along with everyone else. She noticed that Clark was as careful as she to edit the stories she shared so that some of the most terrifying bits seemed a bit less harrowing, and she was grateful that he had the foresight to do so. She had a feeling that if her hostess had any idea of the kinds of trouble Lois landed him in on a fairly regular basis, Mrs. Kent would call Perry White immediately and demand Clark be partnered with somebody who knew how to duck every once and a while.
Later, as they sat down to dinner, Lana shared stories of the adventures she had found herself in since leaving Kansas. For a while, Lois was amused, and since she and Lana had been friends of a sort, once upon a time, she was glad the other woman had been doing so well. But she also couldn't help periodically glancing at the man seated next to her out of the corner of her eye as he watched his ex-girlfriend discuss the last few years of her life. If he had any reaction to hearing about Lana's relationship with her current boyfriend, Lois couldn't tell by looking at his face. She didn't trust his silence, however; she knew better than anyone that, with Clark, there was generally more going on under than surface.
Finally, the conversation delved into the topic that Lois had been dreading all evening: "Remember when". Lois hated talking about the past; it was over and done with, ancient history, so why dwell on it? Besides, there was very little she could contribute to this particular conversation. It wasn't just any Remember When marathon; they were taking a walk down Memory Lang, reliving all the happy memories of the on-again-off-again (really more off than on) Lana-and-Clark relationship. Both Clark and Lana tried to get her involved in the conversation, but the truth was that she hadn't been around for much of the time they had known each other. If two is company and three a crowd, what does that make her as the fourth person to the party, other than odd man out?
Pondering the question, Lois began fiddling with her coffee mug, trying very hard to hide how much she fervently wished she were doing anything else right now as Lana asked in a wistful tone, "Remember when you made me a drive-in for my birthday?" By the warmth in his gaze and the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth at these words, Lois was willing to bet that he did. Clearly trying not to exclude Lois from the conversation, Lana explained how Clark had shown Looney Tunes cartoons on the side of his barn as a birthday gift to her after she'd told him about her favorite memory of her parents. "It was very sweet of him, really," Lana concluded as she graced Clark with yet another dazzling smile, which Clark returned, and Lois looked balefully at a fork on the table in front of her. She wondered if stabbing Clark in the leg with it would be enough of a distraction for him to stop being such a sucker.
Deciding that Mrs. Kent would probably not appreciate the gesture, even it if was under the best of intentions, Lois concurred, "Yup. Clark's a sweet guy," but she had the feeling her voice was a little too caustic for the sentiment to come across convincingly. She couldn't help her cynicism; she was too busy trying to withhold the urge to say something like, 'I remember the time you made Clark feel like less of a person because he didn't live up to this perfect fantasy you had in your head. Oh, do I need to be more specific?'
Realizing that she was about to get herself into trouble by letting her mouth run away from her brain, Lois decided it would be prudent to remove the possibility by taking a huge gulp of coffee. Unfortunately, she must have finished off her cup at some point, and Clark must have refilled it for her as the coffee she drank was almost hot enough to scald the inside of her mouth. She squeaked in surprise and tried hard not to spit the hot liquid across the table, more than likely in Lana's direction.
Waving away Clark's concern, Lois swallowed quickly, her eyes watering. Okay, so she knew she was being unfair. Whatever had happened between her partner and his ex-girlfriend was unlikely to be entirely Lana's fault. It was worth noting that it wasn't impossible that this was the case. Just unlikely. Knowing this, Lois figured her sudden hostility had to be, in some demented way, due to the loyalty and closeness she shared with her partner. Surely that could be the only reason why she'd be eyeing what few uneaten biscuits remained in the basket on the table in order to evaluate them for their effectiveness as projectile weapons. Sadly, she found them inadequate for the task, which was too bad, really. She'd been entertaining a lovely fantasy of using one to nail Lana right between the eyes.
Lois had just decided to give in to temptation and reached for a biscuit when she heard Lana say regretfully, "Well, it's getting late. I should probably get going."
"Lana, honey, you can stay the night if you want," Martha offered, but Lana gracefully declined. That was probably a good thing, as Lois knew from personal experience that the Kent household was short on guest rooms, and she'd already laid claim to Clark's bed. Alone. Obviously.
Lois felt Clark grab the hand she had stretched towards the potential missiles in order to pull her to her feet, and he left his hand in hers as they walked together to the door to see Lana off. On the porch, everyone exchanged hugs and farewells, and there Lois and Clark remained, lost in their thoughts, staring off into the distance long after Lana's car had disappeared down the road. After a while, however, Lois began feeling the cold of the early spring evening, and she shivered, releasing Clark's hand in order to cross her arms over her chest to try to stay warm. The sudden lack of contact seemed to shake him out of his musings because he turned to her and noticed her discomfort. "We should go inside," he said in a concerned voice as he escorted her back into the house.
Back in the kitchen, Clark and Lois volunteered to do the dinner dishes and clean up the kitchen before bed since Mrs. Kent had done the cooking and admitted to having some paperwork she wanted to go over before bed. Martha protested, but when the two of them stood firm, she relented, wished them good night, and went upstairs, leaving them to their chores.
"Okay, Smallville, you wash; I'll dry," Lois stated as she slung a dishrag over her shoulder and leaned against the counter, waiting for Clark to get down to business. They worked side by side in companionable silence for a while, and Lois waited as patiently as she was able for Clark to open up and talk about what was bothering him. She knew pushing him on the subject would only cause him to clam up, but it was hard to let him bring up the topic in his own time. Lois couldn't help but smile when she thought about how little she would have once thought such a thing would concern her.
Clearly lost in his own thoughts, Clark didn't say much as he scrubbed dishes and gave them to Lois to dry. Lois suspected he was thinking about the raven-haired woman that just left, and so she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated by his silence. Finally, when she'd just about decided to go with 'irritated', he handed her a platter to dry and asked, "Lois, do you believe in fate?"
"Do you mean in relationships or in general?"
"Whichever," he replied with a shrug, not looking at her.
She wanted to give an automatic negative response, but it was an honest question deserving of an honest answer so she thought about it for a few moments before saying, "No, I don't really. At least, I hope there isn't such a thing."
At this, he did turn towards her, surprised by her answer. "Really? You don't think that some of the things that happen in life happen because they're meant to?"
Lois nodded. "Really. I suppose there's something very tempting in thinking that our destiny is out of our control; our future is written in the stars, or wherever one would look for that sort of thing. But I'd hate to think that the choices we make in life don't really matter. If our lives are going to end up at some predetermined spot, no matter what we do along the way, what's the fun in living?" Clark grew quiet again, clearly thinking over what she had said, and she joined him in contemplation. Finally, however, she nudged him softly and said, "But, you know, Clark, if there is such a thing as destiny, I don't think yours is what you think it is." She waited until he looked at her expectantly before continuing. "I don't think you're destined to be alone."
"What makes you think I worry about that?" he asked.
"Please, Clark. You've worried about almost nothing else since the day we met," she scoffed.
He rolled his eyes at her words. "I don't know where you got this opinion of me…" he began, but she cut him off.
"Observation. But back to what I was saying," she said emphatically as she placed the last dish aside and hung her towel on the rack, "I don't know that there is one special person out there for each of us, but I do know that you're going to meet someone some day who appreciates you for who you are." She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her admission. "Anyway, that's what I think. For what it's worth."
A long silence stretched between them at her words, but this one war far less comfortable. Finally, Clark said softly, "Thank you, Lois." Though he turned towards her, it was Lois's turn to avoid his gaze, and she quickly turned away to needlessly straighten the towel she had just replaced.
"Don't mention it, Clark. Really. I mean it." She smiled over her shoulder at him, straightened the dishrag a little bit more, stretched, and said abruptly, "Well, it's time for me to go to bed. 'Night, Clark." Not waiting for him to respond, she turned and left the room.
There was something about Clark Kent, she mused on the way upstairs. He could be downright infuriating one minute, irritating her until she wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled. Then he'd turn around and do something so thoughtful, she was stunned that there were still people like him out there in the world. Sometimes he was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, and caught up in a conundrum. Other times, she felt like she knew him better than she knew herself.
The memory of the morning's near miss, pushed to the back of her mind all evening, lunged once again to the surface as she changed her clothes and prepared for bed. Try though she might to convince herself that nothing had happened, had almost been about to happen, or had ever had a possibility of happening in any universe, parallel or otherwise, Lois had a very hard time lying to herself. Strange though the idea seemed, she could swear that she and Clark had been perilously close to kissing before they were interrupted, and she wondered what she would have done if Mrs. Kent had not mercifully chosen that moment to return home.
Lois shook her head emphatically and scowled. That was a dangerous path for her thoughts to travel down, even as a hypothetical and completely implausible scenario. "Don't even go there, Lois," she told herself sternly as she climbed into bed. "Clark is your friend and your partner. And that's all he's ever going to be."