Lois strolled over to Clark's desk at work one afternoon, long brown hair swishing and looking smart in her usual work attire, long skirts with blouses, in varying combinations and colors, the clicking of her modest set of heels alerting him long before she actually appeared in his sights. He recognized it all, except for the fragrance emanating off of her. Lois had been partial to lavender; he had often bought her soaps and shampoos and perfumes with it when they were together.

Today, however, he could detect the powerful and earthy tones of sandalwood, and it wasn't the first time. He doubted it was something she had applied herself. It was too faint for that. No, it was from someone she had come in contact with. An embrace, a kiss, or in all likelihood, something more, and he took a breath, to clear his mind and his sense of smell.

It wasn't his business, and then she was there in front of him, smiling that mischievous smile of her and waggling her eyebrows, before plopping a newspaper down on his deck, folded to highlight a specific article, and pointing at it for additional emphasis.

"All the girls were talking about it. Can't say I blame them. The man's easy on the eyes. Maybe you could get some style tips from him, Kent."

Clark appreciated her efforts to treat him the same as she had before they started dating, and though she covered up her true reasons, he knew this was an attempt to share a piece of his secret life with him, under cover at work, for when he looked down, there was a particularly flattering photo of Bruce Wayne, photographed going to the theater, wearing a midnight black, perfectly tailored tuxedo with bow tie to match, along with pristine white dress shirt, glowing like moonlight along with a matching pair of gloves, gloves that his companion shared, though hers reached up to her elbows, while Bruce's stopped at his wrists, though that was not the only similarity in their ensembles, for her dress too was black, black as a black cat slinking around on a moonless night, and even in a still photo, he could tell she had the grace and confidence to match, for not just anyone could and would dare to wear a hem that dramatically high and a neckline that dramatically low.

As Clark wondered if it was truly her, or if he was only seeing what he wanted to see, he and Lois were joined by Jimmy, bounding over in his usual excitement, messy ginger hair askew and light blue eyes blazing with curiosity.

"Whatcha looking at? Oh, Mr. Wayne there, and this isn't the first time he's been photographed with her. Gosh, she's gorgeous."

"You got a little crush going on there or what?" Lois clipped his shoulder lightly with a smile, only to be met with the beginnings of a blush and a quick and ready explanation.

"Nothing wrong with a little appreciation, right? And also, it's just a great photo. Look at that lighting. Who took it?"

Lois grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Smooth, Jimmy. Smooth. But I didn't know you kept up with the gossip."

"All the girls in the break-room were talking about it: Is the infamous bachelor Bruce Wayne settling down?" Jimmy mimicked, while Lois appeared even further vindicated by this latest news.

"See, Kent. Just like I told you. Important stuff here. Gotta keep you up to date on things besides the Farmer's Almanac… And Jimmy, I'll concede that it is a great photo."

Jimmy nodded his approval, while adding, "It ain't hard to get inspired when that's who you're photographing."

"You sure you don't have a crush?"

"You're the one who brought it up. You sure you don't?"

"What a mouth on you, Jimmy!" Lois exclaimed, but couldn't hide her obvious amusement.

"Look who's talking." Jimmy shot right back, equally enjoying himself.

Lois shook her head smiling, then put a close to their impromptu meeting. "Alright, we've interrupted Kent long enough, so, great chat everybody, but back to work."

"Oh, I actually did come over here for a reason." Jimmy announced, giving Lois the opportunity to jump right back in play. She always did have trouble, letting someone else get the last joust, the final word.

"Besides ogling at, who does it say that is anyway? A one Ms… Selina Kyle. Huh."

"Gotta balance it out, since you and the other girls are busy ogling Mr. Wayne."

"In a dress like that, I'm sure Ms. Kyle is getting plenty of attention, Jimmy, but that is just so chivalrous of you. What a stand up act you've become."

"I try, I try. But Mr. Kent, I'm just about finished with the photos for your latest. They're drying out in the dark room now; I'll have them for you in a jiff."

"Thanks Jimmy, I appreciate it."

Despite Lois' proclamation to get back to work, she lingered, after Jimmy hurried off with a wave, and she lingered after muttering "Bless his heart," in what – if one didn't know her well – could pass for her usual sarcasm, but Clark could tell in this instance was sincere.

"Is there something else, Lois?" Clark asked, a rare instance of needing to prompt her to speak her mind, and she sighed, leveling him with a look that let him know she was reluctant but – as per usual with her – determined and charging in regardless.

"Look, maybe it's none of my business, but are you feeling alright? You just… don't seem like your usual inane, smiling, irritating self."

"I'm fine, Lois."

Lois' displeasure at this answer was obvious, by the sneer of disgust on her face, and by her immediate, disbelieving, "Yeah, sure, Smallville. And I get that we broke up, and boundaries and all that, but if you ever want to talk… you know where to find me."

"Will do."

She was no more pleased by this answer than his previous one, judging by her whip-fast reply, as though he hadn't even said it. "And even though we broke up, you still drive me nuts sometimes. Especially when you do this."

"Do what?" Clark took the bait.

"When you act like you're some kind of… I don't know, some fucking floating fortress."

"That's catchy, Lois." He was not sure what he had intended with that comment. He hadn't given it much thought before saying it. He could only say after having done so, it did not sound light, or cheerful, or placating. In fact, it didn't really sound like Clark Kent at all. It was sarcastic, a tone he usually allowed the masters in his life to handle, such as the woman he was currently speaking to, and she responded in kind.

"Laugh all you want, Kent. But you know it's true. With you, nothing gets out, and nobody gets in."

Actually, he needed to amend that. Her first statement was sarcastic. The following ones were not. Those were angry. Those were downright bitter. And now it was his turn to respond in kind.

"Work probably isn't the place to go over our personal dramas."

"That I actually agree with you on. But, oh, how convenient for you, we only see each other at work."

It seemed there was nothing else for it. The brightness of Lois' brown eyes, dogged and relentless, the arch of her eyebrows, as she chased after him, an odd reversal of their for years usual dynamic, of Clark chasing after her.

"Would you like to step outside then?"

Lois stared him down, as she was literally looking down, her sitting on his desk, while he sat behind it. He could tell she had not anticipated this response, though Lois was never one to back down from a challenge or run away from a story. She looked to the clock. It was close to closing time – at least, the official closing time, for them closing time was when your story was done – but not quite.

"Would you be willing to wait until the end of the day?"

And to his surprise, for in the past he would have caved, he shook his head. "Limited time only, Lois."

Her eyes grew slightly wider as she gazed at him searchingly, looking for someone or something she recognized and not quite finding it. He could admit privately he had felt the same about himself as of late, but she acquiesced all the same.

"Alright, Kent. Have it your way. Let's step outside."

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses, despite it being a habit that had always annoyed her – it had annoyed her before she knew he was Superman, the nervousness of it, and had annoyed her afterwards, when she knew how false it was, yet Lois' continual use of his last name in this conversation struck a nerve, despite it being nothing new. She had long refused to use his first, and her switching and changing between his last and nicknames was a tactic she had always employed to keep distance between them, and he decided it was about time he followed suit, as he rose from his chair and indicated towards the exit.

"After you, Ms. Lane."

She faltered slightly, did not rise immediately from her perch, only turned to him with a slight pale to her features. For a moment, he even thought she looked afraid. Then the moment was over. She got her feet under her and started walking away, and he followed: witnessing the swishing of her long brown hair and how smart she looked in her usual work attire of long skirts and blouses, in varying combinations and colors, the clicking of her modest set of her heels, and he reminisced for a moment, how lit up he used to be, when he saw her, how happy he would have been, to be going to have a private conversation with her, how he had gone to painstakingly great lengths just to exchange a word or two with her, but then the moment passed, for he didn't feel lit up anymore, he not only didn't want to have a conversation with her right now, he didn't even feel much inclined to exchange a word or two with her.

Yet, since she was so insistent, if he had not insisted on today only, she would have instigated this conversation another time, and he decided to get this over with now. And with the addition of the slight wafting of sandalwood in her wake, that was not as difficult as he had once thought it would be, for it was the difference that made the boundary between the past and the present was clear; the change in picture and perspective complete.

They were no longer dating. They were no longer much of anything to each other, really. Not anymore. What they had was past, and she had moved on. And to his great shock, but also great relief, apparently so had he.

Enough so that, as they made their way to the rooftop, riding the elevator together in silence, and as they stepped out onto the roof deck, the wind whipping fast and the sun burning orange in its setting, its final rays of the day creating havoc by reflecting and re-reflecting off the vast planes of windows in this city of mirrors, he felt calm and contained. He wasn't much bothered when Lois gave him a nervous smile, and commented how they had some good memories up here, and he supposed they did, meetings between her and Superman. Though her memories were meetings with a mysterious stranger, his were often fraught with a knowledge he could never quite dissipate, that while she embraced the alien side of him, she continually rejected the human one. Ironic, since the alien side was the one he had hidden for so long, the one his father had warned him would cause him trouble. Of course, his father had not been wrong on that front, most obviously evidenced by Lex Luthor's relentless and recently near fatal vendetta against him.

But they were not up here to reminisce about good times, and they both still had things they needed to get done before the end of the work day, so he once again asked Lois to speak her mind, and to his surprise, she did, without much fanfare or provocation.

"Look Clark, I know I wanted boundaries, but I didn't want you to completely shut me out. I still worry about you."

He was not particularly moved by the use of his first name, and he couldn't help be reminded of Bruce, that morning, the use of his first name then had not been affectionate or thoughtful, or any indication of closeness. It was simply a name.

Yet also like Batman and the last time Superman saw him, he did not quite understand Lois' current compunction to speak after the fact, just as Bruce had not asked or wanted to talk about whatever process that had been that morning, that the two of them together in tandem had worked the night before, to remove that kryptonite, and to remove those bruises and scars, scars that he was sure the one Ms. Selina Kyle had already noticed the absence of, if she was who he strongly suspected she was.

He supposed he could always find out for himself, just as he had seen through Batman's mask that first meeting, yet he while that use of his x-ray vision he had justified in the name of work, he had no true reasons for wanting to confirm Catwoman's identity beyond the personal and petty, and though he had stooped low enough to think it, he would not seek her out to act on it.

For just as the user of the sandalwood cologne would remain a mystery to him, for the reason that he did truly believe Lois' personal business was her own, he would also allow Batman and Catwoman's personal business to be private. At least, when they weren't being photographed out on a night on the town.

But since Lois had given him an honest response, he would do her the favor of doing the same.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe you wanted that, but I didn't?"

"Excuse me? You don't want to? I'm not asking you to tell me everything. You're really going to go that route? We can't be friends because we fucked and it's just too awkward for you? Real mature."

"How do you envision that friendship working? You and me and your new boyfriend going out to dinner together? Having drinks?"

At this, Lois' eyes lit up, to the point of explosion. "Oh, so you actually do pay attention to the rumor mill? Overheard the girls in the break-room, just like good ole Jimmy did?"

"I have no issue with you dating again."

"Oh, you don't, you just want nothing more to do with me, is that it?"

"If you are ever in need of my assistance, I will do everything in my power to help you."

"Not the same thing."

"I'm aware of that."

"...Alright Smallville. I get it. Forget I asked."

"...Will that be all?"

"Yeah, that'll be all. See you back in the office."

She turned, giving a perfunctory wave over her shoulder as she walked away, back the way they had come to the elevator. She stepped inside, and she never bothered turning around, the doors closing with her back towards him.

He waited a moment before following, but looking over the city, the sun's rays turning blood red and the orb of it glowing, more than half hidden beneath the horizon, he swore, in spite of the circumstances, in spite of seemingly everything as of late: this conversation with Lois, his last meetings with Bruce, his fall at the hands of Lex, and his growing discontent with Metropolis, he felt downright happy.

Elated, even.

Unattached and untethered to anyone or anything.

Completely and entirely free.