Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, plots etc are property of DC Comics, December 3rd Productions and Warner Bros. I'm not making any money off this, etc. etc.
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It was a slow news day.
Glacially slow. Even the seemingly endless follow ups to Eugene Laderman's release and Henry and Lena Harrison's arrests had finished.
Lois stifled a yawn as she put the finishing touches on a story about a new mall development that had just been approved by City Hall. Stories like this were like bread and butter- filling, but not particularly interesting. She sent the story to Perry and then looked at the clock. It was much too early to contemplate leaving.
She tapped her pencil against the edge of her desk. What she needed was something more entertaining to think about…
To fill in time she picked up her mug and went to the coffee machine, taking the opportunity to scan the newsroom for some kind of distraction.
Her gaze fell finally on her sometime partner. Clark was focussed on his computer screen, his brow furrowed a little in concentration.
Curiosity, she knew, was her besetting sin. It was one of the things that had driven her to become an investigative reporter. She liked to get to the bottom of things, and something about Clark Kent was piquing her curiosity now.
He was hiding something.
He'd even admitted it after Laderman's name had been cleared. She'd chosen not to pursue it at the time, but now she wanted to know.
As she watched, he stretched, got up and headed for the coffee maker, mug in hand. Reaching her side, he raised one quizzical eyebrow.
“What?”
“What?”
“You were looking at me like I'd grown a second head,” he explained.
“Oh!” Slightly flustered at being caught staring, Lois quickly thought of an excuse. “I was just wondering... if you're doing anything after work.”
“Why?” His question was frankly suspicious.
“I thought maybe we could catch up over takeout and a movie.”
“Oh!” He sounded pleasantly surprised. “Sure, I'm not doing anything.”
“Don't sound so surprised, Clark.”
He shot her a teasing grin. “Well, usually when you ask me if I'm doing anything, you have something much less... legal... in mind.”
She slapped at his shoulder. “Not always,” she pointed out. “Say your place? 7.30? I'll get the movie if you'll get the food,” she offered.
“Sure.”
“Good.” She picked up her coffee cup and moved away.
***
She watched Clark surreptitiously throughout what remained of the afternoon, trying to think of what he might be hiding- and discarding every idea she came up with. It wasn’t until late that afternoon that a plausible theory occurred to her.
Lately, Research had hired a new employee- Teresa. She’d created quite a stir in the Planet offices, being blonde and pretty, with a figure that even Lois had to admit was stunning. Rumour had it that she was working in the Research department while trying to make it as a model. When she entered the newsroom, late in the afternoon, most of the male eyes in the room were suddenly busy tracing her path across the bullpen to Clark’s desk. He accepted the folders she handed him with a smile and a nod- and Lois was intrigued to see that he didn’t watch her leave.
There were only two reasons Lois could think of why a young, unattached man wouldn’t take notice of an attractive woman; one, he wasn’t interested in women in general, or two, he was only interested in one woman in particular.
While Clark was a bit more subtle about it than most men she knew, Lois knew he was definitely interested in women- his reaction to Antoinette Baines, Toni Taylor and Lois herself in his first few days at the Planet proved that.
Which left the second option... Could Clark have a girlfriend?
It was possible, she conceded. After all, he was young, reasonably successful and at least moderately attractive- even despite the glasses. The idea left a hollow, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Clark, with a girlfriend? Fiercely, she told herself that she was only dismayed because she'd lose his friendship if it was true- after all, what woman would condone her boyfriend spending large amounts of time with another woman? She knew she wouldn't.
By the time she arrived at Clark's apartment that evening, she was able to think of the possibility with at least the appearance of equanimity. He greeted her with his usual welcoming grin, gesturing for her to enter and inviting her to make herself at home.
He followed her down the steps into the living room.
“I got Chinese,” he informed her. On the coffee table was a collection of the bamboo containers she'd seen once before. Settling on the couch, they dished up plates of food from the selection he'd bought and began to eat.
“You know, you've really got to tell me where you get this from,” she commented. “I've tried just about every place in town and I still can't find it.”
“I'll take you there someday,” he promised.
She turned her attention to her food, steeling herself to broach the subject of his possible girlfriend.
Finally, she broke their companionable silence.
“I figured it out.”
He looked up from his fortune cookie. “Figured what out?” he asked.
“What you've been hiding.”
He regarded her with a mixture of suspicion and alarm. “What do you mean?”
“Remember, after we cleared Laderman's name, you said you hadn't told me your biggest secret? Well, I figured it out.” Wielding her chopsticks expertly, she transferred her last bite of rice to her mouth. “So who is she?”
“Who is who? Lois, I don't know what you're talking about,” he told her. Picking up the empty plates, he strode into the kitchen and started washing up. She followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“Well, that's your secret, isn't it? You've got a girlfriend.”
“Lois, I do not have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Well, there's someone that you're interested in, isn't there?”
“What gives you that idea?”
She was right! He hadn’t denied it.
“Simple. You’re the only man in the newsroom not salivating over Teresa from Research.”
He laughed at her disgruntled tone.
“Maybe she’s just not my type.”
“Oh please. She’s blonde, blue eyed and at least somewhat intelligent. She is definitely your type.” She paused again. “So there is someone you’re interested in.”
His hands stilled for a moment before he admitted it.
“Yes.”
“What's she like? Do I know her?”
“She’s… complicated.”
He smiled reminiscently, and she was surprised at the tenderness she saw in his face... and a little embarrassed. She felt like she was trespassing somehow, like she’d had a glimpse of something intensely private. This was more serious than she'd thought.
“You love her, don't you?” she asked curiously.
“Yes.” He sighed. “And yes, you know her.” He raised a hand, covered in suds. “No, I am not telling you who it is. Even”- he forestalled her next question. “Even if you guess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Spoilsport. Have you told her?”
“No.” He went back to scrubbing plates, using what Lois considered unnecessary force. “And I'm not going to.”
“Why not?”
He pulled his hands out of the sink, grabbing onto the lip of it and gripping so tightly that his knuckles went white. “It wouldn't do any good,” he said curtly. “She doesn't… feel the same way. And”- he sighed again- “she's involved with someone else. Now can we stop talking about this?” There was a steely edge to his voice she'd never heard before.
Abruptly, he turned away from the sink to grab a towel.
Lois straightened up to touch his shoulder and apologise for upsetting him.
The words stuck in her throat.
There were indents in the sink where his hands had been moments before. Finger shaped indents.
She must have made a strangled sound, because he turned back- and spotted what she had. Guiltily he met her shocked gaze.
Her mind racing, she finally recovered her voice.
“So I guess that was your real secret.”
