Chapter 45

"Lois, what are you doing here? You're still supposed to be dead, you know." Clark folded his arms across his chest, and even she had to admit he cut a very imposing picture standing there, glaring at her.

"I – I was j-just…"

Oliver had stood up as she entered, but now he sank back down into his chair. Was Lois Lane stuttering? He grinned. Oh, this is going to be good. He'd never seen her with Clark when he was dressed as Superman before now. Apparently that red, blue, and yellow costume even affected her. Has to be the spandex effect, he thought as he settled back to enjoy the show.

"Go home," Clark said it firmly, but it was almost inaudible from where Oliver sat.

"Look, Clark, I-I was j-just—"

"Interfering? Lois, this is League business."

She looked down as if suddenly finding her own shoes fascinating, before she could continue. "Clark, will you change, for goodness' sake!"

"No." The word was final, then he softened his voice just a bit. He was very aware of the effect the suit had on her. "I need to be Superman for what I have to do. And you need to go home right now. If anyone saw you—"

"No one saw me!" She looked up to shout it at him, and immediately the discomfort was displayed across her face, plainly evident for Oliver to see. He laughed from his ringside seat, and she looked over at him, surprised to see him sitting there. "Oliver! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" And he laughed again.

She looked around as if surprised to see that she was indeed in Oliver's loft apartment. "Oh, right," she mumbled, and then she spun around to face Clark once more, or rather, face in his direction. She was definitely avoiding looking straight at him. "Benson's dead. So what's the need for me to play dead anymore?"

"Because, with a single sentence, Grange could convince anyone – anyone to kill you! I need to get him put away before you—"

"And just how are you planning to do that? Huh?" Again, she spun in place. "Oliver, you are not sending him off to talk to that man!"

Oliver was still grinning from ear to ear. "No, I don't think I am. I thought he needed help."

"Whose help?" She turned back to Clark. "Clark, you can't go alone. You know that. We discussed it."

But Clark appeared not to be listening, at least, not to anything in his immediate area. Oliver saw the tell-tale signs that Clark was amping up the super-hearing; he was obviously hearing the sounds of someone's imminent arrival. Oliver snickered and crossed to the small refrigerator behind the bar, where he removed a bottle of Cristal. On the way back to his seat, he popped the cork on the bottle of champagne with a practiced ease, and the sound immediately drew both Lois' and Clark's attention back to him.

"What? Just thought I'd open the refreshment bar. Pity I don't have any popcorn."

Lois thought he'd lost his mind and Clark rubbed his ears. "Oliver, it's just after ten in the morning!"

"Yeah. A bit early, but apparently that's when the show starts. Want to join me? Believe me, Lois, you're going to want some in a bit."

Lois was still trying to make sense of that statement when the door to the elevator banged open to frame a gorgeous woman in one of the most outlandish costumes she had ever seen.

The dark haired woman stood there in blue, red, gold, white, and silver. Lois thought she looked like a walking American flag with the stars and stripes scattered across the skimpy outfit. She wore a gold tiara, silver bracelets, and… what in the world is that on her hip? A whip? A rope of some kind?

Of course, Lois had heard about the Amazon … was she a princess? No, that couldn't be! That was from some television show or something. Surely.

Then suddenly she was watching as the woman slinked over to where Clark stood. No, he was Superman right now. Does the woman know he is Clark?

"Clark!"

Apparently she did.

Lois was too stunned to move. She barely reacted when Oliver placed the champagne flute in her hand, but at the next words coming out of Wonder Woman's mouth, she downed the champagne in one gulp and shoved the empty glass back at Oliver without looking, hitting him somewhere mid-chest.

"How lovely to see you again!"

Again? Again!

"Diana," was all Clark said before she put her left arm around his neck, gently caressed his right cheek with her other hand, and pulled his head down to place a sensuous light kiss on his left cheek.

Lois lunged in their direction, but Oliver had quick reflexes and caught her around the waist, holding on with all his might as she fought to get at the ...oh, she had a host of nouns for the female gender peppering her mind at that point, none of them good.

Clark very calmly and politely disentangled the fingers that still grasped the back of his neck and said, "Diana, we really should go. We're late already."

The Amazon let her hand fall slowly, but deliberately down his chest, tracing the "S" emblem with her fingers.

Clark swallowed hard. He didn't need super powers of any kind to know that Lois was about to go ballistic, and that he needed to get Wonder Woman out of here quickly. Without looking in their direction, he spoke directly to both Lois and Oliver. "Lois, if you're not going home, stay here until I get back. Understand? Oliver, see that she does."

"Sure thing, Boy Scout," Oliver answered, and he looked down to see Lois' eyes fixed on the hand that still rested on Superman's chest. Her mouth had fallen open and Oliver didn't think she was even breathing. "Maybe you two better just use the balcony."

"Good idea," Superman smiled and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

"Lois? You okay?" Oliver asked tentatively. She was still staring at the spot vacated by the two super heroes. "Come on now. Breathe, okay?"

And she did. Hyperventilating was not quite what he'd had in mind though, and for the next few minutes, he was trying to calm her down without much success. He grabbed the bottle of champagne, poured her another glass, and led her to the couch. She sat down without even realizing where she was. The scene that had played out before her was burned into her retinas.

This can't be happening!

"Lois, drink. It's bound to help." He had her by the wrist and his fingers found her pulse. "Lois, you need to calm down."

"She—"

"Yeah, I know. She's really got a thing for Clark. Well, for Superman, anyway."

Lois turned and looked at Oliver. "You knew about this?"

"Well, yeah. She's kind of hard to ignore. Not the type to hide her feelings either. We all saw it happening." He grimaced. "I'm guessing Clark didn't really tell you all this."

She handed him back the glass, snatched the bottle from his hand and took a long swig. "And what did you see happening on Clark's side of this…this…whatever 'this' is?"

"Oh, you know Clark—"

"Apparently I don't!" She took another long drink from the bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Oliver, what…how…there's…" Her thoughts were skipping through her mind faster than she could keep up with them.

"Lois, Clark is just being polite. She is something quite out of his experience. She's now a member of the League, and he doesn't want to hurt her feelings or—"

"I've lost him," she whispered.

"Lois," he bit back a laugh, "that is ridiculous. You have not—"

She got up and started moving wildly around the room as the words just spewed from her mouth. For the better part of an hour, Oliver let her scream and yell and generally give voice to every thought in her head, figuring once she got it out of her system, he could start reasoning with her.

"…and that...that…woman had her hands all over him. He did nothing….not one thing…"

Oliver looked at his watch and thought it was time to start reining her back to reality. "Lois, that's not true. You saw him—"

"That…that …fugitive from a bordello was pawing him like… and I just stood there like some kind of stupid moron! Why didn't I—"

"You didn't do anything because you're much more of a lady that you pretend to be, Lois. That and you were taken by surprise. Come on now. Calm down—"

"I am perfectly calm!" She shouted it at the top of her lungs.

"Sorry, I hadn't noticed the change," he smirked. "Lois, look, you know Clark loves you and you know—"

"No, I don't. He's never actually said it."

"Lois—"

"I'll bet he said it all the time to Lana." She said the name with a sneer. "But no, never to me."

"Lois, I happen to know—"

"Nope. Never. Not once. Three words. Three!" She held up two fingers. "That's all. It would have been nice to hear."

"Lois, if there's one thing I know, it's that—"

He was wasting his breath and he knew it, for she was beginning to feel the liquor now. Since being around Clark so much, she'd pretty much given up drinking and the tolerance for it she'd once had was gone. She looked down at the bottle in her hands and immediately held it up and drained it. "Maybe …" She looked over at Oliver. "Oh, god! She's invun…inful...," she struggled with the word, "invul…nerable, just like him, isn't she?"

"Well, not like him. I don't think anybody is like Clark. But, yeah, she is—"

"I knew it! That's what this is all about. That's why he didn't tell me. She's perfect for him, isn't she?" She looked over at Oliver, but he knew better than to answer. "He's been letting me down easy. Spending less and less time with me. He barely had dinner last night and he was off again, being Superman." She waved one arm in the air. "He never wanted to go through with those tests. I all but made him. What does it all matter anyway if he's with her! Oh, why did I…"

Yes, it was time. She'd gotten past the anger and was now heading down the self-pity highway. Pretty soon, even the formidable Lois Lane was going to be dissolving into girlish tears and he didn't think he could handle that. Oliver got up to try to coax her toward the door.

"Lois, I'm going to drive you back to the farm."

"You're a good friend, Ollie," she sniffed as she patted him on the chest. "But I have my car. I can drive."

"Yes, I am, and no, you can't. Clark would kill me if I let you drive home like this."

"Newsflash, Clark doesn't kill. Clark doesn't do a lot of things," she said bitterly.

"Right, Lois, and I don't think you want to go talking about that to me. Look, why don't you just stay here?"

"Here?" She looked around doubtfully. "No, I need to go home." And that was when the tears started.

Thirty minutes later she was asleep in his bed and he was opening another bottle of wine, muttering, "Since when did I become a baby sitter slash psychotherapist?" He looked toward the bedroom and smiled. "Heavy on the psycho."