"Why am I an idiot?"
Clark stood, still perplexed, staring at the petite brunette in front of him.
"Clark! You had to know what Lois would think after I showed up at the wedding."
"You act like I just ditched her in the middle of the dance floor and ran off with you," he muttered.
"Well, you did walk off in the middle of your dance with her…"
"It wasn't like that," he quickly interrupted.
"Okay, then explain it to me."
Frustrated, Clark ran a hand through his hair as he sighed loudly.
"When she saw you standing there, she told me to go talk to you. I was kind of out of it for a moment, I was pretty shocked to see you and all. So she said it again, that I should go talk to you. So I did, but before I headed over to you I told Lois I would catch up with her later."
"But you never got to, because of the attack."
"The next time I saw her, I was trying to get her out from under all that rubble," he said quietly, a shudder running noticeably through him at the memory.
"And she was unconscious."
He nodded briefly, momentarily overwhelmed by the picture that had rarely left his mind over the past month. Lois Lane was many things, including one of the strongest people he knew, but when he had cleared away that debris and seen her so…broken, he'd found it near impossible to breathe.
Which was why it had been so important to him to see her walk into the bullpen on her first day back. That visual, interspersed with images her lying in a hospital bed attached to various machines the day or so she'd been at Smallville Medical Center, had plagued him the weeks she'd been recovering.
"I kept waiting for her to open her eyes," he said softly. His face took on a far off look as he remembered the hours spent at the hospital, sitting by her bedside and gently holding her hand whenever the doctors would let him near her. "Then, the General showed up and had her transferred."
"Which led to the multitude of voicemails. So why didn't you use at least one of those to clarify things?"
"I didn't think I had to! I thought it was pretty clear what my feelings were."
"Did you ever actually voice those feelings?"
The silence that greeted Lana's question, accompanied by eyes seeking out any point in the room other than her, was all the answer she needed.
"Look, Clark, I don't claim to know Lois as well as you do, but you have to think about how things looked from her perspective."
Letting his mind wander back to that night, Clark exhaled loudly as he roughly wiped his hand over his face.
"We were dancing."
"I'll say," Lana muttered, though Clark was so lost in his own thoughts he missed her comment completely.
"And then I saw you. Lois said I should talk to you," he continued, running through a brief summary of the events.
"We went up to the loft to talk."
"Then, all hell broke loose."
"Right," she interjected, the tone in her voice willing him to make the connection.
Closing his eyes briefly, Clark finally understood the point Lana was driving at. "Lois was unconscious when I found her. Which means, the last thing she remembers is me going off to talk to you."
"Exactly. She seems to have jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"And assuming she wouldn't was a big mistake on my part. It's Lois. It's what she does," he finished, and Lana couldn't help but pick up on the note of affection in his voice at his last statement. While a part of her felt a lingering twinge of jealousy at Clark's admiration for one of Lois' many quirks, the other part was genuinely happy he'd finally caught on.
Clark walked over to Lois' desk, his fingers running over her nameplate.
"You're right, I am an idiot."
Lana just laughed softly. "I'm sure it's fixable, Clark. Just talk to her."
"You think it'll be that easy? Lana, that woman has walls higher than Mount Everest on a normal day. But if she's under the impression that you and I are back together?" Clark let the question hang in the air, shaking his head slightly.
"I never said it would be easy."
Taking in her words, his eyes drifted to the one framed photograph on Lois' desk. It was a picture of her, Clark, and Chloe at the surprise birthday party he and Chloe had thrown for her last year. When Jimmy had corralled them together for a picture, in the confusion of the wrapping paper strewn all over the floor and the multitude of streamers hanging from the ceiling, Lois had somehow tripped and ended up in Clark's lap on the sofa. Sitting back against him, she had sputtered into laughter at her lack of grace as Clark's arm had instinctively circled her waist, holding her to him. Chloe jumped onto the sofa next to them, throwing her arm around her cousin's shoulders, and Jimmy had caught the perfect moment, with Chloe's wild laughter almost emanating from the picture as Clark and Lois smiled widely for the camera.
It had been over a month since he'd seen that smile, it occurred to him as he stared at the picture.
And he wanted nothing more than to see it again.
With resolve, he turned back to Lana, a grin adorning his handsome face.
"I guess it's a good thing I can jump pretty high, huh?"
In that moment, Lana noticed the look of determination that took over his face. He suddenly seemed taller than usual as he took a step toward her.
"Would you mind if Chloe took you to the airport tonight?"
A small smile graced Lana's face in response, a touch of admiration lighting up her eyes as she took in the man in front of her. A man that would always hold a special place in her heart, and because of that, she wanted him to find the happiness he deserved.
"Not at all."
Hours later…
Her steps instinctively slowed as she saw the Daily Planet building up ahead.
This just had to get easier. It bugged her to no end that she now dreaded going to the place that she had come to love being at so much.
Glancing at her watch, she noted the time. 8:30 PM. Odds were he was probably gone. Probably having dinner with Lana somewhere, making schmoopy, googly eyes at her and gushing about how wonderful it was that she was back in his life.
Or worse, another public display of affection she'd have to hear about from one of her many friends / sources in Metropolis. When she'd begun to get her feet wet at the Daily Planet, she'd made it her business to become friendly with bartenders, waiters, waitresses, and bouncers at some of the best and most frequented clubs and restaurants in the city. There were no better eyes and ears for her to have, and it was a method that had served her well. The tidbits she was able to glean from them had helped her write several stories, but more importantly, she was building up a reputation as a trustworthy reporter with the people who would be the ones to buy the Planet and read her stories.
Of course, there were times, like the day she'd returned to Metropolis, where she was just fine being in the dark. Not that Benny, the bartender at the Ace of Clubs, knew that. No, he was just dishing the dirt with her, filling her in on some stuff that had gone on in her absence, when he'd innocently brought it up.
"So, anything new on Gambetti?"
"Nope, it's been real quiet. Haven't seen him in about six weeks now. Sometimes he brings in some associates for a drink around the holidays though, so I'll let you know."
"You're the best, Benny."
"You know it," he'd smiled, a hint of cockiness there that had caused her to roll her eyes. "Any chance you'd like to see how great I am, you know, a little later on tonight?"
She'd looked at him, shocked, for a moment, before bursting out laughing.
"Unbelievable, I nearly died a month ago, I just get back to Metropolis not 24 hours ago, and you decide this is a good time to hit on me?"
"Hey, I would have done it before, but I thought you were taken. Now that I know that's not the case…"
"What are you talking about? Why would you think that?"
"That guy you come in here with, what's his name? Clark?"
Lois looked at him, still utterly confused.
"You thought he and I…"
"Well, you're always in here with him. Not to mention he seems to stare down any guy who looks like he's about to approach you. But, clearly I was wrong, since he was in here macking on some little brunette a few weeks ago."
She'd tried to cover, shrugging nonchalantly as Benny had told her about how the 'little brunette' had kissed Clark. He'd continued, oblivious to the pain he was causing, telling her that he'd gotten some customers at the bar at that point, and when he'd looked back to where they'd been, they were gone. He'd chuckled, commenting that the 'lovebirds' had probably taken it somewhere more private, and Lois had wanted to slug him, even though it wasn't Benny's fault, because just the thought made her sick to her stomach.
But she'd just laughed along with him, her eyes focusing on the brass railing around the bar and willing herself not to let it get to her, because she was strong and she could handle it. It wasn't like it should have surprised her anyway. It was Clark and Lana, for crying out loud, it was only a matter of time.
Still, just a couple of days after learning of it, the ache hadn't exactly lessened. Oh sure, she'd put on a show before of congratulating them. Trying to do the right thing, and pretend it wasn't breaking her heart into a million pieces.
Because damn it, he would never know how much losing the possibility of him, of them, had hurt her.
She wouldn't say she had a plan, exactly. Basically, her strategy was to avoid Clark Kent at all costs. Which, wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world, given that his desk was right across from hers.
But Lois Lane was nothing if not determined, and she was sure if she could just keep some distance between them for a while, she would be able to get over it. Get over him.
She swung the door to the Daily Planet open, her eyes drifting from the elevator to the stairs. Yeah, the stairs would take much longer.
Heading for the down staircase, her bag growing heavy on her still tender shoulder, she allowed herself to drift back to that night.
It was easy, all day, submerging herself in her work. It gave her little time to think about all that had happened, to think about what she felt.
But the work was essentially done for the day, though she'd find something to keep her busy once she got back to her desk, a desk he hopefully wasn't sitting across from. It was always this time that was the hardest. Getting to and from places, where her mind had time to ease up on the work and dwell on what had happened.
Or worse, what might have been.
Her legs began to ache as she continued down the stairs to the basement. She was pretty much fully recovered, but the aches still lingered, and being Lois she wasn't exactly taking it easy. Just the opposite, she was working herself harder, in part to make up for her absence.
In part to try and forget the feeling of his arms around her.
Sighing, she realized she had lost the battle again, her mind betraying her by allowing thoughts of the wedding and all that had happened to seep into her consciousness.
The thing was, she wasn't upset that he'd taken her up on her suggestion to talk to Lana. She'd meant that, they'd needed to talk. And Lois wasn't a game player, so it wasn't one of those things where she suggested it but it was actually a test to see what he'd do. She'd meant it, completely.
No, what had hurt her was what had happened immediately before that.
It was the look on his face when he'd seen Lana. It had been brief, a mere flash, but it had been enough to make her feel like her heart was being forcibly ripped from her chest.
It was etched in her brain, that look. She'd tried valiantly to forget it since she'd regained consciousness weeks ago.
But no such luck.
She paused briefly, closing her eyes and trying to shake that image out of her head.
"Pull it together, Lois," she whispered to herself, before biting her lip and continuing her trek downward.
Finally, she pulled the door to the basement opened, heading down that one last flight of stairs. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed, entering the bullpen and then suddenly stopping short at the sight in front of her.
Damn.
What the hell was he still doing here? Didn't he have a petite pink princess to fawn over?
As if on cue, Clark looked up from his screen, spotting her standing frozen in the archway.
"It's about time. Where've you been?"
"I didn't realize I had to keep you apprised of my comings and goings," she said, finally moving, opting for the snarky approach as she unloaded her bag onto her chair. "Frankly, I'm surprised you're still here. No hot date, tonight?"
Ignoring her sarcasm, he leaned forward in his chair. "I was hoping we could talk."
Her lips pressed together in a line as her mind worked frantically to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn't talk to him right now, but not to worry, she'd definitely catch up with him soon. Her eyes flicked over her desk, cursing herself for not making sure she had an out prepared for just such an occasion, when they fell upon a file of old articles she had dug out from the archives yesterday.
"Oh, I can't right now, I gotta get these back into the archives. Soon, though, okay?" she said hurriedly, snatching up the articles and heading for the door.
Watching her go, Clark could feel the frustration jolt through his body. Standing up, he resisted the urge to superspeed after her. After all, the conversation they were about to have was big enough already. He wasn't sure that tacking on 'Oh by the way, I'm an alien from the planet Krypton' would be his best move.
Purposefully, he strode out of the bullpen, heading toward the archive room. With every step, he felt the confidence in his rise, surprisingly, given that he knew better than anyone the challenge he was about to face.
But she was worth it. He wasn't going to let her run from this anymore. Too many people had let her run in her life – having been steamrolled by her attitude and beaten into submission by her knack for avoidance. There was no way Clark Kent was going to become one of them.
Reaching the archive room, he stopped in the doorway, watching as, with her back to him, she diligently flipped through the file folders, returning the articles to their proper place.
Since her eyes were focused elsewhere, he took advantage of the fact she couldn't see him and stepped quietly into the room. Flicking his hand behind him, he shut the door, the bang it created causing Lois to jump slightly before turning to face him.
"What the hell?"
He turned slightly, his fingers quickly pressing the small button in the middle of the doorknob. When he turned back, he could practically see the sparks flying out of her eyes as she began to step toward him.
"Clark Kent, did you just lock that door?"
"Yeah, I did," he shoots back, stopping Lois in her tracks at the hint of cockiness in his voice. "I wanna talk to you."
"And I told you, I'm busy," she responded icily, gesturing to the pile of papers sitting on the filing cabinet behind her.
"Now I'm telling you. No more running, Lois. Right here, right now, I'm gonna talk. And you're gonna listen."
