AN: It's a bit early for ficlet friday, but I'll be crazy busy with snow removal and a very early shift start, so I'm posting early.
Thanks to KSaraSara for the BR! And for pointing out that this fic fits a challenge from SuperBek about Clark warming Lois' coffee.
Enjoy!
****
As I approach the small cabin, I hear Lois’ heartbeat, so I know she’s safe and inside, just as I left her an hour ago with a lame excuse to cover my hopefully brief absence. Changing out of the suit as I lower through the clouds, I hurry to get inside, while trying to make the least amount of noise I can. Her heartbeat is rapid, and I’m worried something has scared her. I don’t hear anything else, human or animal, and I wonder if she’s managed to make some seemingly crazy leap in logic and has broken the case, her heart racing in excitement and elation. She has a habit of doing that—solving investigations with solutions no one else would imagine.
“Sorry, Lois,” I say as I open the door and step inside quickly. “Took longer than I thought.”
“Oh?”
She’s kneeling between the coffee table and the hearth, her face rosy from the heat of the fire. As she reaches for another stick of firewood, she doesn’t meet my eyes, and her heartbeat speeds up a little more. I want to remark that the fire is fine and doesn’t need any more fuel, but she speaks first.
“How’s the septic system?” She asks while focusing on the fire.
I wonder if I’ve left the door open as it has suddenly become a little frosty in the tiny cabin.
As I flounder for a second, fumbling for a response, Lois sticks something on the fire and the flames begin to curl around it.
It’s not wood. It’s paper.
I see her notepad on top of the coffee table, the top page blank, and a ridge of torn sheets indicating she’s ripped out her notes. I spot the rolled up papers in the fire and stare at her in shock.
Her eyes are cold.
She’s not rosy from the fire, and her heartbeat isn’t racing from cracking open another Kerth-worthy investigation.
She knows. And she’s angry.
I hesitate. Do I react, or let the papers burn? Flames from the fire are licking eagerly around the rolled paper, testing the edges and finding them easy to burn. It’ll take seconds for all of Lois’ meticulous notes to turn into ashes.
I’m quick, but I feel like I’m wading through sand instead of moving at super-speed as I blow gently on the fire, encasing it with ice. I hope I haven’t misread Lois, as she’s turned pale, saying nothing. I gingerly loosen the ice and fish out the papers. They’re charred, but I’m sure they’ll be legible…
“Lois? These pages are blank?” I unroll them in confusion, watching as the edges shatter and fall onto the floor, my fingertips turning black from the soot.
Abruptly, Lois stands and walks to the door. As she opens the door, I realize she’s had her shoes on this whole time, and she doesn’t slow down as she marches out into the snowy night.
I follow.
She walks through the ankle-deep snow, using the footprints I left behind when I’d made my feeble excuse. I can see where my footprints end, just beyond the little cabin, and where hers continue for a few steps longer. Even in the dark it’s painfully obvious there are no more footsteps. While I silently berate myself for not being more careful, Lois stops, her arms wrapped around herself in an effort to keep some of the warmth in. It’s cool outside and I don’t have a jacket, just a warm woolen sweater.
She doesn’t meet my eyes.
“When am I going to be good enough for you?” Those softly spoken words are a punch to the gut.
I rarely feel physical pain, but this is just as bad, maybe worse. My insides feel as though they’re twisting as guilt courses through me. I want to assure her she
is good enough, that she’s perfect, and this is all my fault, which it is. I open and close my mouth like a fish, trying to find the words that will not anger or upset her more, while explaining my flawed thought processes.
“How long have you known?” I try to bide my time.
“Known, known? About five minutes.”
So the papers in the fire were a test. She can’t have been absolutely positive, because she’d burned blank pages and not the actual notes.
“I began to suspect after we arrived here. I thought it was cabin fever because you couldn’t sit still, needing to take a long walk in the cold, multiple times a day. When we’d go into town, I’d see the newspapers or the news on the television in the diner, and all the Superman events happen to coincide with your extracurriculars.”
I’m slightly surprised that’s all it took. I’ve been absent while Superman’s been on the scene more times than I care to count over the last year and a bit, and no one has even hinted at it before. Though, we’ve been working on this investigation all week in a fairly secluded location just outside town. With nothing to distract Lois, her mind has been focused and tapped into investigative mode for days. This was just one more puzzle for the marvelous mind of Lois Lane to crack.
“There was the miraculous warming of my coffee the other morning. It had been sitting in the car for half an hour! There is no chance it would have still had steam coming from it, yet I almost burned my tongue.”
I winced. I’d taken a chance on warming the coffee but had overdone it. She had reacted to the hot coffee, but not questioned why it was so hot. I’d carelessly assumed she hadn’t thought about it.
“But it was your notebook and the lack of your footsteps in the snow. After you ran out of the door in a haste to check the septic system, I was trying to piece together a connection for this investigation and went looking for your notebook. I found it, but it was blank other than a few nonsensical notes and a few doodles.”
I winced. Having a perfect memory meant note taking was just for show. I had seen Lois taking lots of notes and had lazily doodled instead.
“Something just clicked. I tore off the top sheets and waited for you to return, hoping you’d assume they were my notes and expose yourself to save them.”
I don’t like feeling trapped, probably about as much as Lois likes feeling lied to and deceived.
“Why couldn’t you tell me where you were really going?”
“I’ve wanted to. It’s been so hard to keep this secret from you.” In more ways than one.
“You’ve wanted to tell me?”
Her tone has softened and I’m hoping she isn’t as angry with me. I’d also like to try to steer this conversation back indoors where it’s warmer. Or will be once I get the fire relit.
“Absolutely. You’re my best friend, Lois. We’ve been through so much together in the last eighteen months and it’s been really hard not to share this part of me with you.”
“But you didn’t.”
Her tone flat, I realize I’m one foot in mouth moment away from losing her.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what? You can’t be hurt!”
“I can.”
“Oh, right. I’d forgotten.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that.” Just thinking of that shade of green makes me queasy.
She frowns and I know she’s thinking of what else can hurt me.
I sigh. “My parents… If the wrong person found out…”
I can see realization dawning.
“I would never tell anyone. Ever.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Lois, but it’s a terrifying thought that won’t just go away easily, and now…”
“Now?”
“That you know. You could possibly be a bigger target than before.” If that’s possible.
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
When she’s being more stubborn than usual, she sets her jaw and her chin tilts up a bit, just as it is now. I find it adorable, but there’s an excellent chance she isn’t in the mood to hear that from me… yet.
“I will always worry about you, Lois,” I say softly, meaning every word with a depth I won’t go into right now.
I see her shoulders relax, and know I’ve avoided a nuclear-sized Lois Lane meltdown, for now.
“Why don’t we head inside?” I suggest. “We can finish this investigation, and then you and I can talk.”
“Okay,” she says with a nod. “Can you relight the fire? I think it’ll be faster if you do it.”
I laugh as she grins at me, and I gently place an arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t the way I had wanted to share my secret, but I’m glad she knows. There’s a weight lifted from my shoulders, which surprises me. I’d always known this moment would come, since our very first assignment together. I’d told myself that it was a future worry, one I didn’t have to deal with for a while. But the stress had always been there, this particular conversation loomed large without me realizing how much. So I’m surprised at how great the weight is that has been lifted from my shoulders. There’s so much more I want to share with her, but I’m grateful for this moment. My dearest friend knows my secret, and we’re still able to joke around with each other. Maybe someday soon I’ll be able to share how I really feel about her.
****
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