“No!”
She was startled until she realized that she was the one who’d shouted. She sat back and pulled her hands away. “No,” she repeated. “I – I’ve changed my mind. Don’t tell me anything. Don’t say anything! Not one thing!”
He blinked and tilted his head. “But I really think you need to know—”
“No!” She jumped up from the couch and put her hands over her ears. “Don’t tell me anything! Don’t say anything! And whatever you do, don’t tell me you love me!”
This time Clark was the one who looked scared. “What? Really? You don’t want me to tell you that I’m—”
“No, I said! I mean it!”
His voice was so low that she read his lips as much as she heard his words. “Even if it’s the truth?”
She lowered her hands and sat down again, this time out of easy reach. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear! I want you to say what you’re going to say when my belly isn’t all tied up in knots. I want to hear it the first time when I’m not terrified of – of everything! I want you to say it when there’s no pressure on you to make me feel better. I want you to say it when – when I know, beyond any shadow of any doubt, that it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
He leaned back against the couch and studied her. She could feel his gaze pressing on her eyes, her mouth, her shoulders, all over her body, penetrating her defenses. It was as if Superman were sitting beside her, looking right through her and seeing exactly who and what she was.
But she couldn’t allow that, not now, not yet. If Clark loved her, she wanted him to love her as a whole person, not a broken-down out-of-work has-been who couldn’t investigate the contents of her refrigerator. She wanted him to love her for who she was, the whole, complete, total package. If she even entertained the thought that he’d love her out of pity – even the slightest, tiniest, most miniscule bit of pity – she wouldn’t be able to take it.
It would be like her loving Superman because of his powers and not for the wonderful person he was. He wouldn’t want a woman to love him for that reason. And Lois couldn’t allow Clark to love her because she needed him so desperately to keep herself from disintegrating.
But she couldn’t have Superman. She could never have had Superman. They weren’t right for each other, and it had nothing to do with the two of them having been born on different planets. It had nothing to do with her mistreatment of him that night when she’d asked Clark to send him to her. Nor did it have anything to do with his abrupt and somewhat rude behavior that night, behavior that Lois thought might have been at least partially justified by her own actions and attitudes.
It was simply because he wasn’t Clark. As wonderful and brave and giving and unselfish as Superman was, he wasn’t Clark Kent.
She loved Clark. She desperately wanted him to love her. But she wouldn’t accept his love if it were based on pity, and there was no way to be certain of his love unless and until she regained her position as Metropolis’ resident investigative queen. Unless she once again ruled the hive at the Daily Planet, and by extension all of the journalism culture in the city, she would never have the confidence in his love that she had to have.
So she waited for him to respond.
It didn’t take much longer. He nodded again, slowly, and said, “All right, Lois, we’ll do this your way. I won’t say anything to you unless you ask me.”
“Good.” She nodded sharply. “That’s good. Um – wait. Do you mean you won’t say anything to me at all, or you won’t talk about – what we’re not talking about right now?”
He grinned at her indefinite precision. “About whatever it is we’re not discussing at the moment. And since we’re off that subject, are you still hungry? That wasn’t much of a pizza.”
“Huh? Oh – yeah, I guess I am. Um – do you mind if we eat something here? I’ll pay for take-out if you’ll clean up.”
He laughed. It was a soft, free, relaxed, honest laugh, and she suddenly felt better than she had for weeks. “I have a better idea. How about I whip up some soup for us? I can do a vegetable medley, or something with chicken or turkey, or a potato soup like my mom makes. Just the thing to counterbalance that pizza. Any preferences?”
She smiled back. “You pick. You know what ingredients you have here, and I know whatever you make will be delicious. And I’ll clean up after.”
He stood. “Thank you for your confidence. I’ll have to check to make sure, but I think we can have an excellent chicken soup in just a few minutes. How about toast and jam on the side?”
“Sounds rather English to me.”
He shrugged from the kitchen door. “Maybe so, but I like it. What do you think?”
She smiled again. “I’ll try almost anything once.”
*****
Lois set down her bowl and muffled a soft belch. “That was wonderful, Clark. You’re such a great cook.”
He was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear the burp, so he didn’t acknowledge it. “All in a night’s work.”
He stood and began clearing the dishes. “Hey,” she said, “that should be my job.”
“No, it’s mine because it’s my place. When we go over to your place you can serve and clean up.”
“But I said I would!”
He stopped and gave her the warmest smile he dared share with her. “I know. But I want to do this, okay? You can have the KP duty next time.”
As he carried the empty dishes to the sink, she called out, “You know, I’ve always wondered what KP duty was.”
“Military term. It stands for ‘Kitchen Police.’”
“The military has police to guard their kitchens?”
He chuckled. “No, no. It means the person who cleans up the kitchen. In the Army, if your sergeant tells you to ‘police’ an area, it means that you clean it white-glove test clean. It has nothing to do with law enforcement.”
“Oh. I never knew that.”
“Well, you can never say that again about that particular factoid.”
She sighed. “I guess not.”
He returned from the kitchen and sat on the couch again. “Are you feeling better now?”
She nodded. “Lots. And I was thinking while we were eating.”
She was thinking! That was a good sign. “What were you thinking about?”
“We’re supposed to go undercover without anyone knowing we’re undercover, right?” He nodded. “And the best place to go undercover is a club of some kind that the mob has its claws in, right?” Clark nodded again, but with less enthusiasm. “Then what we need to do is get jobs at some club where Intergang already has some of its people working. That way we can look around and listen and not get shot for trespassing.”
He frowned and bit his lip. This sounded like their attempted infiltration of the Metro Club, when Lois had nearly gotten herself killed for listening in on the gang’s meetings. Clark still believed that he’d saved her from danger by outing her as a reporter and tossing her in that dumpster.
Maybe her thinking wasn’t such a good sign after all.
Lois frowned back at him. “You don’t like my idea, do you?”
He sat up straight. “It’s not that. I’m just trying to anticipate some of the hurdles and danger zones. You do know that we’d be out there on our own, our backsides swinging in the breeze without any backup, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I know. And I don’t want to put you in danger, Clark. If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”
It didn’t get past him that she’d said that she didn’t want to put him in danger. “At the moment, no, I don’t. Do you have a plan to get hired at one of these clubs?”
“I plan to call my college tennis partner’s father in the morning. Remember him? He’s the guy who found out who burgled your apartment a few months ago. Anyway, Louie isn’t a hood, but he knows guys who know guys, and if anyone can point us in the right direction without shooting at us first, it’ll be him.”
“Okay. How much do you plan to tell him?”
“I want to stick with the straight cover story with everyone except Perry. I was laid off for financial reasons, you decided to resign to support me, and we’re out of work and need jobs. It’s a lot simpler than trying to establish new identities.”
“Sounds good.” He looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, Lois. Do you mind if I walk you home?”
Now Lois was biting her lower lip. “Uh – would it be too much of an imposition if I slept on your couch tonight? I – when I told you I felt better, it was the truth, but that doesn’t mean I feel good. I promise not to bother you in the morning and I can sleep in just about anything, like one of your old sweatshirts and some sweat pants, unless you don’t have any clean ones, and if that’s the case I guess I could go home tonight but I really don’t want to be alone and I’d rather—”
“Lois!” Clark laughed. “It’s okay. I’ll take the couch and you can have the bed. You pretty much know where everything is anyway.”
“Oh, Clark, I don’t want to run you out of your own bed—”
“Not a problem. In fact, I insist.”
Her voice quavered for a moment. “Thank you. I – it’s just that I don’t want to be alone right now.”
He smiled softly. “You know you’re always welcome here.”
“Well – okay. But tomorrow night we switch.”
Tomorrow night?
Had she said what he thought she’d said?
He managed to hide his shock at her announcement. At least, he thought he did until she jumped up and almost ran into the bedroom. “Give me fifteen minutes, okay? Then you can come in and get whatever you need. I have a spare toothbrush in my purse so I’m okay there.” The door was almost shut when she softly said, “Thank you, Clark. You’re a wonderful friend and I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you, not one little bit.”
The latch clicked shut before he could respond.
*****
What was she doing?
Was she crazy?
Why did she think that sleeping in Clark’s bed was a good idea? Where had that thought come from?
And who had said anything about tomorrow night?
She almost burst out in tears, but instead she laughed softly at herself. She was crazy and more than a little bit desperate and afraid to be alone. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if she asked Clark to lie down next to her and hold her until she went to sleep, he’d do it. And she knew that he’d stay there all night, likely not sleeping himself, so that she could get some rest.
She also knew, without a shadow of doubt, that unless she invited him into the bed with her, he’d remain on the couch all night, whether he slept or not.
It was also probable that if she did invite him to lie down next to her and hold her that she’d never want him to let her go.
She would have bet real money that she’d lie awake for hours, but the savor of Clark’s scent and the soft texture of his well-worn sleeveless KU sweatshirt against her skin and the knowledge that he was just outside the bedroom door sent her drifting off to the land of Nod within moments.
*****
Clark was cooking breakfast when Lois came stumbling out of the bedroom. Her hair was scrunched up on one side, her eyes were at half-mast, her sweatpants were inside out, the sweatshirt was pulled over to reveal one creamy shoulder, and she waved jerkily at the encroaching sunlight as if she were a vampire, yet to him she was more beautiful than any Miss Universe ever crowned.
He wished he could tell her that.
Instead, he poured a large glass of orange juice and put it on the table close to where she was heading and waited for her to find the chair. “Good morning, sunshine,” he intoned.
“Mrrgrmphlxppppplth,” she muttered.
“How do you want your eggs this morning? We have over easy, scrambled or poached.”
She folded her arms on the table and dropped her head down on them. “Astound me.”
“Drink your OJ and speak intelligibly.”
Her head rose and she pushed her hair back from her face. “Fresh-squeezed, no doubt.”
“Of course. Say, did I ever tell you about Lana?”
She took a long drag from her juice before responded. “Lana who?”
“Lana Lang, my high school girlfriend.”
Her head tilted to one side and her mouth drifted open. “You’re bringing her up now?”
“Only because of the orange juice.”
Her mouth worked and her head bobbed up and down, then she said, “Too early. Don’t get the connection.”
“You asked if the orange juice was fresh-squeezed?”
“Yeah. And?”
“Lana had to have fresh-squeezed orange juice.”
“Still don’t get it.”
“It’s because she’d sit for long periods of time and stare at the carton if it said ‘Concentrate’ on the package.”
Lois glared at him as best she could through her morning confusion. “Please tell me she’s a blonde.”
“A natural one. We had to watch her when all the kids went swimming, too.”
Lois tried to focus but failed. “Okay, I give up. Why?”
“We were afraid someone would accidentally drown her by putting a scratch-n-sniff at the bottom of the pool.”
She made a grunting noise and one side of her mouth twitched. “I’ll give you that one.”
He brought her a plate with eggs and two strips of crisp bacon and scrambled eggs. “Hey!” she protested. “I didn’t ask for scrambled.”
“No, you asked to be astounded. Try them, you’ll like them.”
She took a tentative nibble and tilted her head to one side. “Not bad, not bad at all.”
His face fell slightly. “I’m sorry. I can make something different for you if you want.”
“Nah, they’re fine. I’m sure your eggs are better than anyone else’s in Metropolis no matter how you cook them.”
He smiled. “Eat before they get cold. Do you want something else to drink? I also have toast and jelly if you want it.”
“What do you have if I don’t want it?”
“What? Oh, I see, it’s a play on the conditional prepositional phrase in my previous statement.”
She pointed her index finger at him. “Don’t get grammatically technical with me so early in the day.”
“It’s almost nine. It’s not exactly early for a farm boy.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve always been a night person who’s gotten used to getting up early out of necessity. You know, I almost hurt myself getting out of bed when I woke up this morning. It was twenty to nine and I just knew Perry was going to fire me for being late and – and then I remembered and almost didn’t get up at all but I had to – to make a pit stop and then I smelled you cooking and I remembered everything and thank you for breakfast.”
She put her loaded fork down on her plate. “We don’t have jobs.” She sat back and took a deep breath. “I thought I’d wake up frantic the first day after I didn’t have a job, but I’m not. I’ll have to think about why that is later, though.” She took another slurp of juice. “Right now I’m going to consume this wonderful breakfast.”
“I can make you more if you want it.”
She gave him a clear-eyed look and smiled softly. “Thank you. I think I’m so calm because you’re here with me.” She reached out and grasped his hand. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”
“You’re welcome, Lois. But don’t forget that we can call Perry if things get really desperate.”
“No. I’ve done more undercover work than you have. We have to treat this as if we really don’t have jobs any more. That’s the only way we can get through this and the only way we can convince anyone else that we’re almost in despair for something to do that pays the bills. I refuse to do anything illegal that will hurt anyone, Clark, but I’m willing to do some things that you might not want me to do. And you have to think that way too.” She grinned again and released his hand. “Finish your breakfast. I’m doing the dishes today.”
He smiled back and nodded. “Deal.”
Scrambled eggs had never tasted this good to him. Maybe this arrangement would work out after all.
*****
Louie frowned at Lois. “I know youse can sing, Lo, but what does the big mook do?” Louie turned to Clark and said, “Tell me you can play piano.”
“Sorry, no.”
“Guitar?”
“Again, no.”
“Dance?”
“I can waltz or rhumba or foxtrot—”
“Nah! People don’t pay to see guys dance unless they got their shirts off and then it’s only the women. Hey, you ever do anything exotic?”
Clark frowned. “Exotic?”
Lois rolled her eyes as if she knew he didn’t get it. “Nothing where we take our clothes off, Louie. I’m not that desperate.”
Louie waved his unlit cigar at her. “Hey, you never know, doll. Kimberly – hey, your boyfriend know Kimberly?”
“I know how Lois knows her, sir,” replied Clark.
“Sir?” chuckled Louie. “You call me ‘sir?’ I ain’t got no officer’s bars, I work for a living!”
“I got it. My father was a sergeant in the Army.”
Louie stopped and nodded briefly. “Okay. Okay, I’ll give you that one. But we still don’t got no job for the two of youse. Lemme call Kimberly, okay? Maybe she got somethin’.”
He stood and waddled to his office. Clark leaned close to Lois and said, “I assume Kimberly is your former tennis partner?”
“Yes. And I’m sure she’s not involved in making porn, despite what you may have thought you heard him say.”
Clark lifted his hands in all innocence. “Hey, the big mook ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”
Louie spoke from behind them. “You two ever do any standup?”
Lois jumped and spun around. “Gaaaah! Don’t do that!”
“Hey, Lois, calm down. I wasn’t tryin’ ta scare ya.”
“I thought you were calling Kim!”
Louie shrugged. “Forgot for a minute she’s coming home this week. She’s prob’ly on her way now.” He tapped her on the shoulder. “You two work pretty good together. You ever do any standup?”
Clark glanced at Lois, then said, “Not on purpose.”
Louie smiled. “Hey, not bad. You two think on your feet, don’t you?”
“We have to, Louie,” Lois said. “That ability has saved us more than once.”
“Yeah, well, it just might save you now. I think you two should go home and work up some classic stuff and let me see it.”
She frowned. “Classic stuff?”
“Yeah, like some old Burns and Allen routines, or Jack Benny and what’s-her-name, his wife. Young folks might like that.”
“That’s pretty old material. Not exactly cutting-edge stuff.”
“Maybe, but them kids ain’t never heard that kinda stuff. And it’s clean. You won’t hafta play to drunks and skanks.”
Clark reached out and touched her elbow. “That might be the best idea we’re going to have, Lois.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “I’m not sure I like it, but I think you’re right. Okay, Louie, we’ll give it a shot. When do you want to see us again?”
“How about tomorrow afternoon at two? I got an opening, and Kimberly will be here. I want her input on this, too. If she thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll see if I can set up a gig somewhere.”
Clark stood and smiled. “Thanks, Louie. We really appreciate it.”
“Hey, it might be just some open mic somewhere. No salary on the first gig. Rookies gotta pay their dues.”
“We understand. Lois, are you ready to put a standup comedy routine together?”
She sighed. “Looks like we don’t have a whole lot of choices.” She stood and gathered Clark with a wave of her hand. “Come on. Let’s go find something we can be funny with.”
“You mean, ‘with which we can be funny,’ don’t you?”
Lois pushed the door open with one hand. “You don’t get to correct my grammar now, Farm Boy.”
The last thing Louie heard him say was, “As you wish.” Through the window, he saw Lois shake her head as if she were disgusted with him. But she also wore a thin smile.
Maybe they can learn it, he thought. Looked like they already the teamwork part down.
