A/N: Thanks for the reviews to date! And seeing as I had already written this chapter you get a quick update. That doesn't always happen!
I generally prefer writing the 'character journey' type story, and it always comes more easily for me. When the writing muse kicks in I just go with the flow. Not sure what anyone will think of it? Hey but if you like it please let me know. Feedback is always welcomed and very much appreciated!
Enjoy!
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Chapter One.
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"I can't believe my dad is making me repeat Year 12," Lois griped.
Chloe gave her a quick glance as she drove to the Kent farm. She bit down on her bottom lip, she hadn't had the chance to tell Clark about Lois staying; yet. Somehow she couldn't see him being happy about it.
"And why are you picking up the farm boy?" Lois continued, "Should make him walk to school, he needs the exercise."
"Play nice Lois," she admonished.
"I'll try," she shrugged, "But seriously cus, I just don't know what you see in him? He's … so straight."
Chloe frowned at her, "He's also happens to be cute, not to mention he's a pretty good writer for the Torch too."
Lois merely snorted.
"He's been my best friend since we were 12," she pointed out. "So don't give him too much of a hard time."
Which would probably last a whole minute, Chloe mused. Lois couldn't help herself when it came to teasing Clark, which was sort of puzzling.
They pulled up at the farm. Clark was about to descend the steps, when Mrs Kent hurriedly stepped out the door.
"Clark," she called, "You forgot your lunch."
"Great, I'm starving," Lois said with a grin, and proceeded to wind down the car window. "Oh hey, Mrs K!" she called out.
"Hi Lois," Martha Kent waved back with an amused smile.
Clark approached the car, glancing at Lois, a displeased look on his face. Yep, it was as she thought, Chloe Mused.
He climbed in the car.
"Hi Clark," she greeted over her shoulder, as always just the sight of him sent a warm tingling feeling coursing through her. Damn this attraction to him.
"Hi Chloe," he returned as he put his seat beat on.
Pity he didn't see her as nothing more than a friend, sighing she put the car in gear and drove on.
Lois turned in her seat to look at him.
"What is with you and plaid shirts, Smallville?"
He opened his mouth, about to say something, when Lois' glanced down at his lunch bag. He knew that predatory look in her eyes. Before he had a chance to put it in his school bag, she snatched it from him.
"I didn't have breakfast," she said with an attempt at a 'nice' smile, for her that was.
He watched her pulling out a number of yummy food items. "Your mom packs the best lunches," she continued.
"Just help yourself, Lois," he muttered, dryly.
She glanced at him, an annoying smirk of her face. "Just think of all the calories I'm saving you from."
"Yeah I don't get how you can eat so much, and be so skinny," he grumbled.
"I have a fast metabolism," she returned with a grin, her eyes skimming over him, "Unlike you, yours must be non-existent."
Clark lent back in his seat, annoyed.
"And it has nothing to do with the cigarettes," Chloe quipped from the driver's side.
Lois' stopped chewing, that shut her up. He felt a moment's satisfaction.
"I've given up," she mumbled.
Chloe glanced sideways at her, a deliberate half smile on her face. "Since when?"
"Since …" Lois began with a wave of her hand, "since, well I'm going to."
Clark couldn't help but give a snort, "Yeah right."
She glared at him. "Just you wait, Clark Kent, I'll be nicotine free by the time this stupid school year is over."
He frowned at her words. School year is over – what did she mean by that? "You're going to school?"
"Yep," she returned, pulling out a blue berry muffin from the bag. "Turns out I didn't have enough credits to graduate."
That didn't surprise him. "I guess that happens when you spend more time out of school than in it," he couldn't help saying.
She merely shrugged. "Well we can't all be goody two shoes, straight 'A' students Like you, Clarkie," she rolled her eyes, "talk about being such a bore."
It was his turn to glare at her. "Least I'll graduate," he muttered.
Reaching out a hand, he grabbed the muffin from her before she had the chance to bite into it. "And this is mine."
He took a bite, and gave her a sardonic smirk.
She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Smallville, you now have to put up with me for the whole year."
He stopped chewing. She was going to Smallville high. Of course she would be, there were no other schools around. Damn. He swallowed.
"Chloe, is this true?"
"I'm afraid so," she returned over her shoulder. "Lois will be living with me."
"Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery," he muttered.
A wide smile crossed Lois' face. "Don't sweat it, Tubby." Reaching out a hand, she snatched the muffin back from him, and bit into it.
"It has my germs on it," he pointed out.
She just shrugged. "Your so clean cut, Smallville, I doubt you have that many."
He scowled. She smiled in that annoying way he seriously hated.
"You probably haven't even kissed a girl yet," she continued in a teasing manner.
"Chloe, did you really have to bring her," he whined.
Maybe he should start catching the bus. He didn't know what was worse, being shoved around on the school bus or being teased by Lois?
"I can't believe this will be our last year of high school," Chloe sighed as they walked down the corridor.
Clark was glad about that. School had really sucked these last two years, and his eyes stared longingly after Lana as she strolled by. Then maybe he'd stand a chance to push Lana out of this thoughts forever.
"Forget it Clark," Chloe muttered under her breath.
Was it that obvious?
"Who is she?" Lois asked.
"Lana Lang, cheerleader, goes out with the captain of the Smallville High football team."
Lois raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "And Clarkie has a crush on her."
He sighed and shook his head.
"So typically male, Clark."
"Just forget it alright," he snapped.
"Touchy," Lois muttered under her breath.
And he had to put up with this for the rest of the school year!
His thoughts drifted back to Lana. They had been friends once. He'd even saved her from the tornado. Back when he still had his powers. But after the death of his father he'd shut himself off from the world. When he returned to school the following year, he had no idea on how to approach her. They sometimes exchanged a 'hello' when passing in the corridor, but that was about it. Besides she always seemed to have a boyfriend, and generally that of the popular kind, which left him out of the equation.
Sighing deeply, he followed Chloe and Lois into the Torch.
"Hey guys," Pete exlaimed as he entered the room.
"Hi Pete," he returned, slinging his bag from his shoulder and onto his desk.
His eyes rested on Lois, who had made herself perfectly at home, sitting on his chair, putting her feet up on his desk.
"What's Lois doing here?" Pete whispered in his ear.
He forced a grin to his lips. "Lois, failed high school."
"I didn't fail high school, Smallville," she retorted, "I just didn't go half the time."
"Same thing Lois."
Pete shot him a look of sympathy. "I feel for you, Clark."
He patted him on the back. "But, hey maybe this will take your mind off it," he continued, holding up a pamphlet. "I was thinking we should sign up for the football try outs," he continued.
Clark frowned. "We?"
"You are both seriously not going to try that out again are you?" Chloe piped up from her desk. "From memory that didn't turn out well back in our freshman year."
Pete didn't even acknowledge that, but Chloe was right and not for reasons she was thinking.
"It's out last year, Clark, we need to live it, make our mark."
"I think I've already left enough marks," Chloe quipped as she typed away on her keyboard. "And stepped on enough toes."
She certainly had, but his stories were always more sedate. He, on the other hand, didn't want to offend anyone. 'Always the nice guy,' Chloe would often tease.
"What about it, Clark?" Pete continued.
"Pete, you know I can't," he sighed, "I have farm chores to do. I don't have time for practice."
"You'd make a great Linebacker, you've got the height for it."
"And the weight," Lois added from her spot on the chair. "Which is more lard than muscle at present."
He shot her a glare.
"What," she shrugged, "I'm trying to help."
"Try outs are next month," Pete stated.
He was really insistent about it, but it just wasn't really his thing anymore, that boat had sailed by long ago.
"I don't know. It's not that easy for me, and I'm not fit enough."
Hearing a chair scrap back, he glanced over to Lois. She had now stood to her feet, and was giving him the once over, making him squirm. No doubt she was about to give her two bits worth.
"Not at present, but you could still get fit enough in that time."
And there it was. He glowered at her, ignoring the thankful look Pete shot her way. Did she always have to pry into his affairs?
"Then there's Lana," Pete pointed out, "It's your last chance, Clark."
He sighed deeply, and shook his head.
"Pete's right Clark," Lois added, "And I can help you get fit."
Was she serious?! He could only imagine how well that would go down.
"You know I was an Army brat, and a have a black belt in Martial Arts."
His mouth opened as he tried to give back a snarky answer to that. She proceeded to punch him in the arm. "I'll see you at six in the morning."
"Um … Lois, I don't think …"
She had the audacity to pinch both his cheeks, a wide grin on her face. "You are going to thank me one day."
He didn't even know how to answer that.
"This will be your year, a year you'll never forget."
With her in it, that would be sadly true. Shooting him a parting grin he watched her waltz out of the room. He stood there stupefied. Chloe, laughing from her desk broke him out of this trance. He glanced her way, she was clutching her sides.
"What have I've just gotten myself in for?" he murmured, still in a state of shock.
"Oh Clark," she gasped, "Don't worry Lois will sort you out."
He spent the morning trying to find a way to get out of those stupid football try outs, and Lois getting him fit. Seriously, he could only see that ending up in disaster.
He was still mulling it over as he stood in the lunch line, no thanks to Lois. Seeing as she stole all of his lunch, forcing him to have to buy his. Then a waft of familiar perfume greeted his nose, and he glanced up to see Lana standing directly in front of him. She turned slightly in his direction. Their eyes met and held. Say something, he silently murmured, and don't stuff it up. Don't get distracted by how pretty she is, or her beautiful hair.
"Hi Lana," he smiled.
She smiled back, a good sign. "Oh, hi Clark."
"How were your holidays?" he asked.
"Great, and you?"
He nodded. "Good."
"Looks like you spent them gaining another ten pounds, Kent," Brett jeered from behind.
His face reddened.
"Just ignore him," Lana softly spoke.
He looked at her, noticing the pity in her eyes. She felt sorry for him, that's all it was. Who was he kidding? And pity; he'd learnt to hate that look in the last two years of his life.
His jaw clenched. "I'm used to it," he muttered.
There were no more words exchanged between him and Lana. He felt humiliated. Was this how he really wanted to spend his last year of high school? Just like the previous two, a loser and a joke.
Lois was right, as much as he hated to admit it; this was his last year. Maybe it was about time he did something more than bury himself in his studies. He would get fit and sign up for those football try outs next month. Even if it killed him, even if he had to be subjected to Lois Lane far more than he'd like.
His mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner when he entered the house. He was greeted with the tantalising aroma of roast beef. Since arriving home at 3.30pm, he'd spent the last three hours doing farm chores. After dinner, he would have a shower, and then spend another three hours doing homework. That's how his days were spent, an endless cycle of the same all, same all.
His eyes drifted to his school bag, sitting on the desk in the lounge room. Football would give him something else to focus on, but what if he failed at that? And did it really matter? No harm in giving it a shot, and what if, by chance, he was actually good at it?
There was a time when it was all he wanted to do, back in his freshman year. He'd begged his father.
"I know that you can be careful, but what if there's an accident? Look, uh … Clark, I know this has got to be really hard for you, but you got to just hang in there like we promised."
"I'm sick of hanging in there. All I want to do is go through high school without being a total loser."
Reaching into the bag, he pulled out the permission slip. Not like it mattered now. He no longer had his powers, he didn't have to worry about running at half speed, or hitting anybody. He was boringly normal, insignificant Clark Kent that nobody noticed.
Walking across the floor, he approached his mother. She looked down at the permission form, her gaze shooting to his face with surprise.
"Probably a waste of time," he muttered. "But I thought I would give it a shot, you did tell me to enjoy my last year."
Wiping her hands on her apron, she took the permission form from him.
"I think it's a good thing."
"Yeah, and I don't have to worry about hurting anyone now," he added.
A shadow stole across his mother's face. She had struggled to come to terms with his father's death as much he had, maybe even more. But she was good at putting up a tough façade, for him, he knew.
"I think your father would be proud," she continued, making his stomach twist into knots.
He nodded, about all he could manage. She gave his hand a light squeeze. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to get out of there.
"I'm just going to have a shower," he murmured, and made a hasty retreat.
He was flying, through the clouds, the lights below twinkling. He felt so light, so free. There wasn't a care in the world up here. Everything paled into insignificance. Yet, it was all so clear now. He wasn't human. He was sent to earth for a reason. He just had to find out what that was?
"Kal-el," a voice whispered on the still air.
He gaze drifted upwards, towards the heavens. To where all the answer's lay. Holding his hands forwards he shot up into the sky, the earth falling away beneath him.
The sudden, shrill sound of the alarm startled him out of the dream. It took a moment to get his bearings, the fragments of the dream fading away into the mist. He turned one bleary eye to the alarm clock; 5.30am. Lois, he inwardly groaned, she would be here at six.
Dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled to the bathroom, hoping she would forget all about it.
He brushed his teeth, catching his reflection in the mirror.
'I'd give anything to be normal.'
Except the death of his father. But that was the price he had ended up paying.
Being human with all its frailties was … not what he thought. It hurt. Was he meant to feel? If he had never come to earth what would he have been? Who was he?
When he looked in the mirror, he always felt like he could only ever see in part, never the full picture.
Turning away from his reflection, he reached for a towel. Since his father had died, he hated looking at himself. If he had been normal his father would never have lost his life trying to protect him. That constant reminder had stayed with him every day.
Lois was good for her word. She rocked up on his doorstep at 6.00am. A bright smile on her face.
"You ready, Smallville?"
How that nickname irritated him. She knew it did, which is why she always called him by it.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he muttered, closing the door behind him.
"Great, I need you to give me a hand lifting the boxing bag out of my boot," she continued.
He followed her to her car, wondering why she would want to even train him. At times she confused him.
"What's the boxing bag for?" he asked.
"Great way to take out your frustrations, Clark," she returned over her shoulder. "Instead of stuffing your face with food when you're feeling pissed off, you take it out on the boxing bag."
He felt annoyed that she had pretty much summed it up for him. Watching her lug the bag out of the boot, he grabbed it by the other end.
"So, is smoking your way of dealing with things?"
She glanced at him, as they carried the bag to the barn.
"I started when I was 15. It's my father's fault. He said if he ever caught me smoking, he'd kill me, so in a fit of teenage rebellion, I started, and since then I haven't been able to stop."
He could imagine her being a handful. He felt a pang of pity for her father.
"You always rebel, Lois?" he asked.
She grinned. "You always do as you're told, Clark?"
They were completely different to each other, he mused, two opposing poles of a magnet.
"You and I are like chalk and cheese, Smallville," she quipped, "Only I'm the chalk, you're definitely the cheese."
Oh, ha, ha.
"Yeah I can see that, chalk makes that really horrible annoying screeching sound on the black board that hurts your ears," he grinned back at her. "Definitely you."
"Your full of laughs this morning, Smallville," she muttered, then smiling in a way he didn't like, "but don't worry, I know how to get pay back."
He swallowed. He must be seriously delusional to let her train him. He could see it ending in disaster. What had he gotten himself in for? And why?
Once in the barn, they strapped the boxing bag to a rafter. Dumping her duffle bag onto the ground, she began rifling through it.
"Boxing gloves," she said, handing them to him.
He gingerly took them from her. She stood up. Her eyes scanning over him.
"We'll go for a light jog, but first I need to take your picture," she grinned, holding up a camera.
He frowned at it. "Why?"
"To monitor your progress, now take your shirt off."
He jumped back. "What!" he gasped, "No!"
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "C'mon Clark, no need to be modest."
And have her see him with no top on, no way. She'd never let him live it down.
"It's the best way to monitor your progress, don't you ever go on those body building websites?"
He shook his head.
She sighed again. "Of course you wouldn't. Well it's about time you did."
She looked directly at him, with determination. "Now take your top off."
"No."
"Don't make me do this, Smallville," she began, approaching him.
"W-What are you …" but the words ended there as she began trying to unbutton his shirt.
He tried to swot her hands away. "Lois," he gasped with indignation.
"Stop being so melodramatic, Clark," she grunted.
Lois had managed to unbutton the top two buttons when footsteps sounded. He looked up to see his mother standing there, a stunned look on her face.
Lois turned towards her. "Oh hi Mrs K," she smiled, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
He hastily did up the two buttons she'd undone, meeting his mother's questioning gaze.
"This isn't what you think," he quickly said, his face reddening.
"Yeah, I'm just helping Clark get fit," Lois added.
His mother put the tray, she was holding, on to the bench, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Clark mentioned that you would be coming around in the mornings."
That's an understatement, he'd more like whined about it, nonstop, for half an hour.
"I think it'll be good for you, Clark," she had replied, "Lois is a likeable girl."
Was his mother serious?!
"I was just bringing you some breakfast."
Lois skipped over to the bench. "That's so sweet of you Mrs K."
She picked up a waffle. Clark went to do the same when she smacked his hand away.
"Oh no, Clark, you're not eating that."
His eyes shot to her face, annoyed.
"I don't mean to offend you, Mrs K, but waffles are not good for his waistline, they are loaded with calories."
His jaw clenched. How was he ever going to survive this; her?
"Clark, is now officially on a diet."
He saw an amused smile twitch on his mother's lips. "So what do you suggest, Lois?"
"Protein," she exclaimed, "Two poached eggs on wholemeal toast."
"Okay," his mother began, still smiling, "I'll have it ready for you when you finish up here, Clark."
He nodded, about all he could manage. Lois turned to him and smiled brightly.
"Now, about that shirt, Clark."
He sighed deeply, there was no point in fighting her and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"You promise you won't show it to anyone?"
"I'm not keeping it," she snorted, "You are Clark, it's to spur you on to want to change your life for the better."
He shot her a sardonic look.
Lois bit down on her lip as he removed his shirt. Poor Clarkie, he really did look so put out. He threw his shirt over the stool and looked at her.
"Just get it over and done with," he muttered.
For just a brief moment she felt a tad sorry for him, he looked so uncomfortable. He really needed to lighten up. And much to her surprise, he actually didn't look too bad. He did carry a bit of weight around his stomach but he had a broad chest, nice arms too, must be all those farm chores. With a bit of working out he had the potential to have a hot physique.
"Why are you staring," he frowned, "I know it's bad."
She shook her head. "Actually Smallville, you could have a build for a quarter back."
"Yeah right," he snorted, "Just take the photo, Lois, I'm starting to get cold."
Holding up the Polaroid, she pressed the button. She pulled the photo out and began shaking it. Clark hastily retrieved his shirt and put it back on.
She handed the photo to him. "You should pin it up somewhere."
Was she serious? He almost snatched the photo from her, gave it a quick glance before putting it on the bench. He was shoving it in a drawer, out of sight, the first opportunity he had.
"Now all we have to do is take your weight," she continued, pulling out a set of scales from her bag.
"W-What," he stammered, could this get any worse?
He looked down at the scales. "I'm not getting on them."
She sighed. "You can be really stubborn," she grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to where the scales sat on the ground.
"The moment of truth, Clark," she grunted, "You can't live in denial forever."
Yes he could. He was perfectly happy living in denial. "Can't we like do this in a months' time?" he protested.
"No, just get on them, Smallville."
And she said he was stubborn. "You are bossiest girl I've ever met," he muttered, but he did as she said, because he knew she wouldn't let this go.
He reluctantly stood on the scales and the pointer swung around till it came to rest on 240 pounds. Just great, he inwardly groaned. Now not only had she seen him topless she also knew what he weighed.
He looked up to find her scribbling in a note pad.
"What are you doing?" he frowned.
"Writing it down, what's the date?"
"Ah 30th August."
He stepped off the scales and resisted the urge to give them a swift kick. She shut the note pad and handed it to him. "Put this with the photo."
Taking it from her, he placed it on the bench, feeling even more disgruntled. Turning around, he came face to face with her.
"Now let's go for that run," she grinned.
He tried keeping up with her. His ego was at stake here, what was left of it that was. But it had been a long time since he'd last run anywhere, and he had a stitch. He had to stop.
Bending over and resting his hands on his thighs, he tried to catch his breath.
Lois stopped in her tracks, turning to face him.
"C'mon Clark, we've only ran one mile."
"I thought," he panted, "Y-You said a light run."
She raised an eyebrow. "This is a light run."
He swallowed and straightened up. She walked up to him and patted his arm.
"I can see I have my work cut out here," she commented. "Still, I like a challenge, now let's run back to the farm."
She took off and he groaned. This was going to kill him.
"So how did the training session go?" Chloe asked as he entered the Torch.
He could see the amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Lois is …" his words broke off there as he tried to find the best ones to describe her, and his morning from hell. "Like a pit bull at a bone."
A small laugh escaped Chloe's throat.
"I swear I'm gonna end up tearing my hair out."
"Don't do that," she quipped, "It's your best feature."
A compliment, he needed one, his ego had been pretty much demolished this morning.
After the accident it had taken him a long while to adjust to a life without his powers.
He didn't know what it felt like be out of breath from physical exertion. He didn't even know what his limitations were. But afterwards, he soon found out just how debilitating it was being like everyone else. He'd spent his whole freshman year struggling with who he was, what he was; an alien from another planet. He longed to be normal. The moment his father had shown him the spaceship he supposedly arrived to earth in, had changed his life.
'You're real parents weren't exactly from around … here.'
He still recalled the way his heart began pounding in his chest. His father couldn't be serious?
'Where are they from? What are you trying to tell me, Dad … that I'm from another planet? And I supposed you stashed my spaceship in the attic."
'Actually, it's in the storm cellar.'
His father pulled a sheet from the object, he had often wondered about. 'This is how you came into the world, son.'
A small sleek space craft lay upon a dusty old table. Sudden horror gripped him when realisation took hold. 'Wait. This is a joke right?'
He wasn't even human!
Now, ironically, he was, sort of. But it still didn't explain anything. Why did he suddenly lose his powers? Where was he from? Did he really have a home, somewhere, out there in space?
The amount of hours he'd gazed through his telescope, staring into space, wondering, waiting for something, anything … an answer.
"Earth calling to Clark." Chloe's fingers snapped in front of his face.
His shook his head to clear it, reining in his wayward thoughts. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"God, the morning must have been really traumatic for you, Clark, going by the look on your face."
He blinked. "No, I was just thinking about something else."
Chloe didn't push it. She understood his reluctance to discuss his father, which is probably what she was thought he was thinking about.
He would have been lost without her. She was the only person, apart from Pete, who didn't pity him.
The silence was broken when Lois came bouncing into the room.
"Oh, hey, Smallville, how are you feeling?"
"Just terrific," he grunted through gritted teeth.
She smiled. "It'll get easier."
Chloe glanced at her in amusement. "So, I take it the morning went well?"
Lois turned to her, her pony tail swaying. "By the time I'm done with Clark, he'll be hot stuff, and Lana won't be able to take her eyes off him," she smiled.
Chloe glanced his way. Why did she have a bad feeling about this? Face it girl, it's because you don't want Lana to suddenly start noticing him, you want him to notice you. Not that that would happen anytime soon. She had pretty much resigned herself to being just his friend. Anyway, since his father had died Clark hadn't be the same. He always had been a bit shy, but the guy basically became a social recluse.
If it wasn't for school, no one would even see him. She attempted to drag him out of whatever flunk he happened to be in. She knew he would eventually get over his father's death, and it wouldn't be overnight. She was living testimony of that.
But something had fundamentally changed about him the day of the tornado's, something more than just the death of a parent, just she couldn't figure out what it was. It sort of sadden her in a way she couldn't even begin to fathom. There was a time, when doing a story on adoption, using Clark as her subject that she had dug a little too deep. He hadn't liked it, was even overly defensive. It had confused her. What was he hiding? And there was something kind of mysterious, something very different about Clark Kent. But now she knew without a doubt he was just like everyone else, and whatever her misgivings had been; they were just that.
"Where is your lunchbox, Smallville?" Lois' voice brought her out of her musings.
"Well I hate to break it to you, Lois, but since you gave my mom that big long list on what I could and could not eat, it's pretty boring now."
Lois patted his stomach. "I'm just looking out for your waistline, Smallville."
Chloe hid a smile at the disgruntled look on his face.
"Somebody has too," Lois continued with a teasing glint in her eyes.
He shot her an indignant look.
"And don't worry, Clarkie," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I'm not going to steal your lunch."
"It didn't stop you yesterday," he retorted. "I had to stand in the lunch line."
Lois snorted. "Seriously, Clark, you need to toughen up soldier."
They were at it again, Chloe mused, as she typed away on her latest story. Always arguing, always debating, always … her hands went still; Clark Kent matching wits with Lois Lane.
She'd never seen that side to him before, now that she thought about it. And Lois had a way of bringing him out of his shell.
Lois, was just what Clark needed in his life right now. And knowing her cousin, she would be the only one to sort him out. It looked like getting Clark into that football team was her knew mission in life.
Lois always thrived on completing a mission. Poor Clark had no idea was he was getting himself in for.
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A/N: Love to hear some feedback, good or bad, as long as it's constructively critical. This was fun to write, and having Lois trying to sort out Clark is always loads of fun. Plus I love writing the banter. Given the way Lois can't resist teasing Clark always had me thinking that she'd pretty much denied her feelings for him from the get go. I kind of address that in this story, and I give the friendship a lot more depth, as you'll see in the next chapter.
I'm still not receiving any fanfic email prompts, I haven't since the 28th of April! If you are following this story and you didn't get a prompt in your email box please let me know so I can send a message to the fanfic PTB and try to sort this problem out.
Thanks for reading.