Wonderful. Sweetest fluff.
How hot did a light bulb have to become to shatter?
Lois shook her head in disbelief as she dropped what was left of that defective bulb into the trash can. Even more curious, when it had exploded, it had somehow burned two tidy little holes through the lampshade.
"Weird," she muttered to herself, running her finger over one of the neatly rounded scorch marks.
Well, I haven't seen the episode, but I can just imagine those narrow beams of heat vision.
Then again, the world was a weird place in which the unexplainable happened all the time. Vehicles crashed, people ran amok, and Pulitzers were awarded to stories about the decreasing effectiveness of pesticides in lieu of worthier stories.
So adorably Lois! Particularly that bit about the Pulitzer!
Right now, somewhere out in the gathering dusk, there was even a man who could fly. Lois wasn't sure anymore which was weirder - that Superman existed or that she took his existence for granted.
Right, Lois, you look at those round burn marks in Clark's lamp shade, and you think of Superman. Ehh... where's your famous leap of logic?
Should she call Clark? She had told him she would talk to him in a couple of days, after all. Suddenly she wished she had been more definitive - and a little less hesitant about appearing eager to see him again. If she called him now, it would be a day earlier than she had implied and he might read too much into that.
Oh, I love it!!! Should I call him...? Or not?
If only she'd been a little more clear-headed that night, she would have… what? Lois let out a self-deprecating laugh. She wouldn't have done anything. She might be bold enough to plant a kiss on Superman, but the thought of kissing her partner was enough to make her legs start shaking.
Oh, to know oneself too well! I would have... no, I wouldn't. It's wonderfully Lois, too. I love that she is so scared of kissing Clark, because unlike when she had been kissing Superman, kissing Clark could actually lead somewhere. And she so much wants that, but it scares the heck out of her, too.
Why? He was just a guy. A guy who teased her and constantly corrected her copy. A guy who wore ugly ties and ate junk food without ever gaining an ounce. A guy who was annoyingly happy and positive all the time. Did he have any idea how irritating it was that he was so unfailingly cheerful? Couldn't he be pessimistic, just once in a while? Couldn't he go more than an hour without giving her that smile that made her insides melt? Would there ever be a day where he didn't help her put on her coat, or hold the door open for her, or do any number of those old-fashioned gestures that made him so fascinating?
Irresistible. It so perfectly sums up how Clark irritates her, how he continually turns her into a puddle of goo and how much she wants him.
She saw the unmistakable spark of mischief in his eyes - or maybe that was just the reflection off his glasses - as he said, "It's hard work, changing a light bulb."
Lois frowned. Had she really thought Clark was attractive? Sure, he looked really good in that dark leather jacket. But he also had an irritating propensity to be just as self-satisfied as all the other men she'd stupidly found charming.
He teases her, and she gets riled.
"Not the light bulb," she sniffed in irritation. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I walked here tonight?"
"You did?" Clark glanced down at the items he was holding. "You walked all the way here carrying a lampshade and a bottle of champagne?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "No," she admitted grudgingly. "I, uh, oh never mind. I'll be going now."
He keeps teasing her, and she is leaving. But...
Shouldn't he move away from the door? Where were his manners when she needed them most?
So funny!!!
"Wait." His tone was much softer than it had been before. "I'll walk you home."
He likes to tease her, but he doesn't want to drive her away.
Clark wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She would have protested, but it was still warm from his body. Not only was it warm, but the jacket also held the mild musky smell of Clark mixed with the thick essence of leather. The weight of it across her shoulders was thrilling, almost like an embrace.
I love how you write this. His leather jacket on her shoulders is like an embrace.
"What about you?" Clark asked. "What was it like growing up here?"
"It was magic. All those tall buildings, so many bright lights, always something happening somewhere. I can't imagine living anywhere else. And the people - there are so many people - and they all have a story. That's part of why I went into journalism."
I love her explanation for why she went into journalism.
Clark took a sip, laughing as it bubbled over on him, and then passed the bottle back to her. She put her lips to the opening and the thought raced through her mind that it was almost like kissing him. At the very least, she'd just shared germs with him. If she kissed him now, would he taste like the champagne?
His jacket is like an embrace, and his champagne is like a kiss.
They passed the bottle back and forth a few more times, content simply to watch the view. Then Lois asked, "What do you think happened to that light bulb?"
"What?" He coughed, apparently choking a little on the fizz.
He didn't like that question!
He still sounded a little choked up as he answered. "The filament in an incandescent bulb burns at 2500 degrees Celsius."
Ha-hah! I love that, Sue. Yeah, that's the typical temperature of a light bulb. And that is also the typical temperature of a cool "red" star. In fact, most "red" stars are in fact a little hotter and whiter than this... So take a look at the light from the nearest light bulb. Looks red to you?
So cute, she thought as she looked back out at the river. He's so cute when he's flustered. Oh hell, who was she kidding? He was cute all the time. She just hadn't wanted to see it until recently.
Adorable. And you just have to love her inner monologue, when she debates with herself, and tries to kid herself, and admits to herself that she is trying to kid herself....
What if he had kissed her? A shiver went through her at the idea of Clark's lips on hers.
"Are you still cold?" he asked.
Not wanting to admit the true reason for her tremor, she stammered, "I guess, uh, maybe, uh, a little."
She should have thought of this sooner, Lois thought as Clark's arm went around her shoulders. The faint possessiveness of his touch made the mild champagne-induced buzz she was experiencing take on a whole new flavor. There was a pleasant awareness gathering inside her as his fingers made lazy circles on her upper arm.
So sweetly sensual, so gently sizzling.
Two seconds later she felt the weight of his chin on top of her head. Please, she thought. Don't let this moment end. Let it go on and on. "Much better," she whispered to herself.
Clark made the softest little hum, just a faint vibration against her hair. For a split second she wondered if he had heard her. Lois smiled to herself and pretended that he had; that he was just murmuring his agreement.
He was!
Her mind raced ahead, filling in the details. Clark would say something, low and sweet, that she was beautiful maybe. Or that her story on sexual harassment in the military deserved the Pulitzer over one on pesticides. Or maybe he could say both of those things. He'd tease her that he was going to harass her because she was so beautiful.
I love her imagination!
It wasn't going to happen. She looked like an idiot, standing here and waiting for him to kiss her when he obviously only thought of this as a friendly escort home. It wasn't even as good as an almost date. This entire evening had been nothing more than Clark being old-fashioned again. The thought made the lingering sweetness of the champagne seem bitter.
He's scared. Just like she is scared.
The kiss was delightful, but I'm not going to quote. Instead...
Clark made a muffled groan and lifted his head. "I'd better leave now," he offered regretfully.
In the beginning of this fic, he teased her and she wanted to leave. Now he finds himself in deep water, figuratively at least, and he decides that he needs to leave.
"Oh," she said, unable to come up with anything else. "Okay."
"May I call you tomorrow?" he asked, his voice softly hopeful.
"Y, yes."
He bent and picked up his jacket and the champagne. Clark handed her the bottle, his fingers brushing against hers as he left it in her still-shaky hands.
"Til tomorrow then," he whispered and bent to kiss the corner of her mouth. "Good night, Lois."
"G'night."
I love how his kiss has left her all but speechless!
Once the door was shut safely between them, she leaned back against it and realized she knew exactly what had made that light bulb explode. Clark - it had to be Clark.
She has figured it out!!!
She was about ready to shatter herself right now. Being close to him could superheat anything. Lois blushed as her thoughts took a decidedly fiery bent. She was going to kiss him again tomorrow; she knew that with a certainty.
No, she hasn't. Oh, groan, Lois.
Anyway, this was a wonderful vignette, Sue. One that is to be savored, sentence after sentence.
Ann
