'I don't suppose you own a tuxedo?'
Clark lifted his head slowly at the sound of his partner's unusual question, trying to pull himself back to the newsroom and out of his intensely focused reading.
They were knee deep in research on organised crime in suicide slums for a series they were running on the forgotten areas of Metropolis, and he was starting to feel the weight of uncovering all of this darkness.
The things he was able to do as Superman were great – he was using his gifts to give people hope, to save lives that would have been doomed if he wasn't around – but the work he was doing with Lois felt just as important. Maybe even more so. Trying to shine a light on systemic issues wasn't easy, but it was essential in bringing about more lasting, long term change.
Still, reading about the horrible conditions some people were having to live in, the experiences they had to tolerate and the total lack of support they received from those in power, was a humbling process.
Clark put down the stack of papers in his hands and regarded his partner's unreadable expression as he processed her question. She set one of the two cups she held in her hand down next to him, watching him expectantly as she took a small sip of her trente green tea.
'Uh… I could get one. Why?' he asked.
'Well you know I don't have a date to Lex Luthor's ball tonight…' she explained nonchalantly, but he thought he saw a flicker of nervousness in her eyes.
'You want me to go with you?' he asked quickly, before suddenly regretting the words that had flown out of his mouth. 'Uh, I mean… like a news partner thing. Cover the story together?'
'Actually no…' she said, giving him a look that almost seemed coy. 'I was thinking it might be an actual date.'
Clark's jaw fell open slightly, helplessly shell shocked and speechless. She matched his bamboozled expression with a steady and fearless one as she waited patiently for his response. It didn't take long, a giant grin broke out on his face after just a few seconds.
'I'll take that as a yes?' Lois said, matching his wide smile with sincerity.
'I… I'd love to Lois,' he said, trying to sound just the tiniest bit cool about this.
How was he supposed to stay cool? Lois Lane had just asked him out… on an actual date! He felt like his head was swimming.
'I have a few errands to run now but… Meet you there at 8?'
'I'll be there,' he confirmed almost too firmly.
'In a tux,' she reminded him teasingly.
He nodded with another smile, and she turned and headed for the elevator. Clark bit his lip as he watched her go, throwing his pencil down on the table and closing the open files in front of him.
That was it. There was no getting his head back into work mode now. He pulled his keyboard towards him and did a quick search of tailor's near the Daily Planet building.
Lois stumbled into her apartment with one hand full of papers and files, and the other holding a cumbersome dress bag over her shoulder. She turned on the lights and threw the files down on the kitchen table, before straightening up the dress bag and carefully placing it over her dining chair.
She smiled to herself at the memory of her partner's broad grin when she'd confirmed she was asking him on a date. Adorable was an understatement.
This was so unlike her – generally speaking, she had a rule about not dating people you work with. Not that there were many men at the office with whom she was having to resist that temptation. In fact, she was very rarely interested in anyone these days. Most of the guys she met either seemed to be intimidated by her reputation… or just wanted to use her for some kind of ego boosting arm candy.
Besides, she was just too busy. Building up her career as a formidable investigative journalist had taken up all the time and energy she had, especially as she'd had to work twice as hard as any man to have her ideas taken seriously.
Yet here she was, taking the plunge and asking her new partner to go to a dance, feeling as giddy as a 16 year old getting ready for her prom. Or at least how she imagined a 16 year old girl might feel before their prom. She'd never made it to hers, after all.
Something about Clark Kent had made her stop and take notice. From that first moment he'd looked over at her in complete earnestness and asked 'How can I help,' she'd known there was something remarkably different about him. He hadn't been defensive or dismissive like people so often where when she tried to point out the paper's sometimes skewed priorities. He had actually listened… and more than that, he honestly seemed to care.
Working together as partners these last few months, he'd proven himself again and again. It seemed she'd finally found someone whose commitment to a story rivalled her own. He never once complained about the long hours they were putting in, or the dangerous situations she dragged him into. He followed her lead out of respect and eagerness to learn from her, not because he was some passive dead weight just along for the ride. He took the initiative at times and seemed to know exactly when that was needed. Not to mention how good he was with people, in ways she was admittedly lacking herself. Working with him was extremely refreshing.
Sure, he did have a weird tendency to run off mid-sentence at times and sometimes she'd catch him staring off into space with an odd look on his face. He was also one of the dorkiest guys she had ever met - always holding the door for people, offering to walk old ladies across the road and fumbling over his words bashfully. She had to laugh at the raised eyebrows some of her sources gave her when she first introduced him, like they couldn't believe Lois Lane was happy being partnered with some hick from nowheresville.
But she was happy. Really happy. Happier than she'd ever been actually.
She looked around at her messy kitchen, feeling grateful she hadn't suggested he pick her up in a cab and briefly considering attempting a quick tidy up. Then she checked her watch. Damn! It was already 7.30!
Lois grabbed her dress bag and flew into her bedroom, kicking her work shoes off and flinging them to the side as she went. The kitchen would have to wait. That dress had been super expensive and she was damned if she was not going to look drop dead gorgeous wearing it.
How good would Clark Kent look in a tuxedo? Her mind drifted as she rummaged through her jewellery box looking for that pair of maroon earrings that would go perfectly with her dress.
She had to admit, the man was extremely attractive. His shy awkwardness hid it fairly well, and he wasn't necessarily turning heads in the street – but that made it somehow even more alluring. Like he had a secret hotness only she could see.
Once she'd located the earrings, she placed them down on her nightstand and quickly yanked off her shirt and trousers. She glanced at her underwear in the mirror - a simple but flattering black matching set – and briefly wondered if she should dig out the sexier lingerie in the back of her drawer. Not that she thought for a second that she'd be showing him her underwear tonight… but she often felt sexier when she was wearing it.
As another fantasy image of Clark in a tuxedo standing in that ballroom sent a flush right through her, she decided against it. If she was going to play it cool tonight she needed to dial down the sexy, not amp it up!
She tugged open the zipper of the garment bag and gently pulled the soft maroon fabric down over her torso, smoothing down any wrinkles and running through footwear options in her head. Grabbing a hairbrush off her nightstand, she reached under her bed with her feet, poking around until she saw the end of her simple black strappy heels and hooked her feet around to kick them forwards.
Glancing anxiously at the clock on her bedroom wall, she placed her brush back down, grabbed her favourite lipstick from the nightstand and sat down on her bed facing her mirror. As carefully as she could, she applied her lipstick with one hand while fastening the straps of her shoes with another.
She knew there was no harm in being fashionably late, but she actually didn't want to be. She wanted as much time with her partner in this totally different context as she could get. Standing up in front of the mirror once again, she gently nudged her earrings through the mostly underused holes and then gave herself one last once over.
Not too shabby for under 10 minutes!
Lois stomach gurgled as she reached for her phone, reminding her that she'd forgotten to eat lunch again. It was a catered event though, right? She grabbed the accompanying shawl from the garment bag and a handbag from her cupboard, searching around for where she'd flung her keys. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down as Clark's name popped up.
'I'm here. Will get us a table close to Luthor.'
She smiled again, partly amazed that he was somehow 15 minutes early to the black tie event, but also appreciative that he shared her mixed sense of priorities.
Of course she was mostly excited about her first date with Clark Kent – but that didn't mean they couldn't keep their eyes and ears open for a story at the same time. After all, Lex Luthor was a mystery no reporter had really been able to get to the bottom of, and yet his name came up way too often in her investigations. There was never anything concrete, but she was starting to get the impression he was like a shadow in the background of Metropolis' seedy underbelly.
She replied with a simple 'Great, see you soon' and opened her uber app. She should be there at 7.58. Perfect. She grabbed her purse from her usual bag and did one last check of items she might need before she headed for the door, feeling genuinely excited.
There was just no doubt in her mind, this was going to be a night to remember.