“The dock strike,” he said, or at least he thought that was what he had said. He cleared his throat.
Lois: I really need to try harder, if he can focus on the dock strike, instead of kissing me.
“I’m sure that they want to make amends and put all of that nasty squabbling behind them,” Lois said, arching her back as she raised herself up to her palms. “Now.”
Lois: Come to me Clark. Stop with your boring work.
“I’ve been thinking that I’d like us to try the new Italian restaurant that opened near your apartment,” Lois whispered, practically climbing onto his desk to lean closer to him. “Now.”
Lois: Comes on Clark. Let's go somewhere romantic. Out of this boring newsroom.
“Anyway, you know what pasta does to me.” He fumbled with his notes and turned back to his computer screen.
“I know,” Lois murmured. “Pasta does the same thing for me, and I want to eat it. Now.”
I am loving this dialogue.
Suddenly the fog in Clark’s brain parted, and her words sunk in. “Now? As in now now?”
Lois:
