Lois summed up what happened and what they still needed to do. “We’re meeting Lex at his office at two.”
He raised a surprised eyebrow. “We? As in ‘us’ as in ‘me and you’?” he asked.
“We’re partners, aren’t we?” she countered.
Clark, just go with the victory.
Clark smiled in that way he did where his face looked conflicted. His mouth was genuinely happy, but his eyes were sad.
I just realized that Clark should give this Lois the choice of keeping him or getting her own Clark back.
Lois:
Exactly. He has spent too much time listening to Wells and his no choice ultimatums.
Lois patted his arm. “Come on. Let’s finish up these interviews, write up our notes, grab a quick lunch, grill Luthor, type up our story, eat a celebratory dinner, and then crash,” she said, before a bubble of laughter escaped. “You know, that sounded like a shorter day inside my head.”
He is telling me about his past.
It wasn’t as if she would remember it anyway, after her timeline was returned to where it ought to be.
Seems likely, otherwise she would already know CK=SM.
“It’s rare to have an actual gentleman for a friend.” Lois touched his arm. “Well, thank her for me, the next time you speak with her,” she said, and then quickly added, as her cheeks went rosy, “I meant, in your prayers, or however you...” She winced, trying to walk herself out of that hole. “I’m sorry, Clark. I shouldn’t have…”
There for a bit I was assuming she was thinking that his mother was still alive in Italy. I had sort of forgotten she believes his parents were killed.
“What?” he sputtered. Where had that question come from?
Oh no. Wait, does he realize that Jonathan mentioned Italy to Lois, or did they not mention that.
Oh. That was all. For a second there, he thought she knew about that crazy idea of him being Jonathan’s uncle’s Italian grandson.
Clark, you are far too trusting of Lois.
“E 'tardi e dovremmo andare a dormire. Ci vediamo in mattinata,” he said with a slight bow as he backed down her hall. “Buona notte, Lois bella.*”
And he has reinforced Lois' idea. Of course, would she have believed him if he claimed no knowledge of Italian.
Clark started back down the hall towards the stairwell, when he heard her lean against the inside of her front door and whistle. “You better keep that sexy Italian accent away from me, Chuck, or who knows what I might be capable of?”
Do it Clark, do it.
Unfortunately, it was short lived. He pressed his lips together and bit his bottom lip, but nothing stopped the tears from coming to his eyes.
He shouldn't have put off Wells' return for so long.
