Caroline, you are such a brilliant writer, and your love for Lois and Clark shines through in what you write. It is such a pleasure to read this story.
This, then, was what it looked like when a huge story broke, he thought. This was why Lois Lane loved what she did; Clark could see the rush of it sparkling in her eyes, the sheer relief and triumph of the moment. He wanted to touch her then, to feel a connection with her, to be a part of that experience. He wanted it so badly that he was half-way across the room before he even realized it, and when she leapt into his arms in her utter exuberance, he felt the rightness of it in the deepest part of his soul. These moments – these important moments – he and Lois were meant to share. It may have been nothing more than an impulse for her, but for him it confirmed everything he’d known with bone-deep certainty since the night he’d unbuttoned that first tiny button on her sweater.
This is so moving, so beautiful. You show us why Lois loves being a reporter, and you show us how Clark loves to watch Lois, particularly when she is brimming with elation and joy. It was so wonderful to see how Clark was drawn to her joyous triumph like a magnet; he didn't even know what was happening before he was half-way across the room, moving straight towards her. And this is a story where Lois is far more physically comfortable with Clark than Season One Lois was in the TV show, and I
love how she leapt into his arms. Of course, her physical comfort with him has its roots in the one glorious night they spent together, and I completely love the butterfly-delicate beauty of what his night with Lois meant to Clark (I apologize for quoting part of the same paragraph again):
for him it confirmed everything he’d known with bone-deep certainty since the night he’d unbuttoned that first tiny button on her sweater.
“Luthor?” Clark felt ice creeping around his heart as he said the name.
“Uh, yeah.” She gave him a wary look, the delight of the previous moment fading from her expression.
“Lois....” He caught himself just in time. It was just business, she had said. He knew it wasn’t true – wasn’t true for Luthor, at any rate – but she’d taught him a lesson about getting between her and a story, and it wouldn’t do for him to forget it so soon. “I hope he gives you a good interview,” he said, the words unbearably bitter on his tongue.
This, too, is beautiful, but it is the beauty of of the bitterness of wormwort.
In the TV show, this would have been it; Clark would have been dismissed, Lois would have gone to her date with Luthor, leaving only jealousy and tension between Lois and Clark. But in this story Lois has admitted her attraction to Clark to herself, and she will listen to him and acknowledge the bond between them in a way she would never have done during Season One of the TV series:
“Can I talk to you privately for a minute?” he asked suddenly, wheeling back around to face her. He looked at her intently, silently begging her to accept.
She looked mistrustful of the request but nodded once. “Conference room?”
This Lois welcomes Clark's kisses and physical endearments - even his attempts to lay claim on her as *his woman*:
The minute the heavy door shut behind them, he leaned towards her and put both hands against the wall on the two sides of her, effectively trapping her between his body and the cinderblock wall. “Lois,” he breathed, loving the taste of her name on his tongue, loving the warmth of her body so close to his.
He rejoiced in the smile that spread across her face as she realized the reason for their private conference. “Is this the modern version of dragging me off to your cave by my hair?” she teased.
And I love, love, love this:
“Yep,” he murmured, bending to kiss one tantalizing spot on her neck, the tender place where her pulse fluttered beneath his lips. She arched to give him better access, and he pulled her closer, letting his hands roam across her back, down her sides, finally daring to cup the perfect curve of her bottom and fit her to his body more intimately. He pressed increasingly fervent kisses to her neck, her jaw, and down into the V of her sweater, and it all felt so daring, so dangerous, even, with their co-workers just outside, but he reveled in her responses to him, rejoiced when her body trembled at his touch and he again heard the sweet sounds of pleasure and encouragement that fell from her lips.
I completely love how he dares to touch her so intimately, and how she loves it when he does it.
“Whoa,” she said, when he finally dragged his lips from hers and they both stood panting in the echoing stairwell. “Do I want to know what brought that on?”
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“I had a feeling.” She was quiet for a moment, and then she reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand in a touching, tender gesture of reassurance. “You have nothing to worry about,” she said finally. “It’s business.”
I love that she understands what it was about - Clark's jealousy of Luthor - and I love her tender gesture as she is caressing his cheek, assuring him that her date with Luthor is strictly business.
“And it makes you go all caveman.”
He smiled. “Very caveman. And not very professional. Should I apologize?”
“Be a little hypocritical of me to insist, under the circumstances. When I don’t want a man to kiss me, he’ll know it.”
Oh, how I
love it that she told Clark that she
wanted him to kiss her.
Clark found that terribly reassuring. He had an instant fantasy of Luthor trying something with Lois and her giving him a bloody nose or a fat lip for his trouble. He’d buy tickets to that.
And I certainly loved this, too!
“It’s just that we said we were going to take this slow...get to know one another. And this doesn’t feel slow. I don’t mean the kissing, really, even though I guess that’s true, too, but the thing this morning, with you worrying about me being out at night, and now you’re upset about me having dinner with another man....”
But as much as Lois loves Clark, and as much as she wants him and desires him, she needs her integrity and her independence, too:
“It’s just that we said we were going to take this slow...get to know one another. And this doesn’t feel slow. I don’t mean the kissing, really, even though I guess that’s true, too, but the thing this morning, with you worrying about me being out at night, and now you’re upset about me having dinner with another man....”
“I’m not used to that, not used to having anyone care what I do or where I go, and it’s just so sudden. I’m not sure I can... that I am what you want me to be. I don’t know how to be someone’s girlfriend, Clark. It’s been years since I tried. I didn’t even think that was something I wanted. So I need to kind of work up to the idea. And we just met, but you seem so sure of everything....”
“I am,” he interrupted.
I sympathize with her fears, and I love his utter certainty.
“How?” She whirled to face him, her arms crossed defensively. “How can you be so sure? You hardly know me, and a lot of what you know, no sane person would like.”
He didn’t argue with that. It was true – there were times in the past few days when he’d found her unlikable, but there was never a moment he hadn’t felt drawn to her, and ever since they’d made love, he’d felt bound to her in ways even he didn’t understand. “I’m just sure,” he said simply. “I’ve been sure since practically the minute I met you.”
And this is just completely, completely beautiful.
“I wasn’t even me the minute you met me!”
“It was always you.”
It was. I can see how this is leading up to Clark adopting his Superman persona. Let's hope he remembers that whether he is Superman or Clark before Lois, he is always going to be
himself to her.
He ran a finger down the V of her sweater and then tugged it just slightly to one side, so that he revealed the upper swell of her left breast, the lacy edge of her bra. “You have a beauty mark right there,” he said softly, and he bent to caress the tiny spot with his lips. “It’s one of the first things I noticed about you that night.” He lifted his head and met her eyes, which were hazy now and a little confused. “And when I kiss you there, I can feel your heart beating. Your heart, Lois. It was always your heart. No matter what you were wearing or how you fixed your hair, it was the heart of Lois Lane...wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Trust this, Lois,” he begged her. He rested his hand over her heart, felt it stutter beneath his fingertips. “Trust this.”
And this is so beautiful that I almost have to hold my breath, so that I won't disturb them. Clark is practically caressing Lois's heart. The intimacy and love of that gesture is - breathtaking.
“Wow.” She was quiet for a moment. “I want to believe you, Clark. But I quit believing in fairy tales a long time ago.”
“Then I’m just going to have to make you believe again,” he said, pulling her into his arms. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, breathed in the sweet fragrance of her hair. “Someday, Lois Lane, I’m going to show you magic. I’m going to slay your dragons or fly you to the moon or whatever it takes to make you believe in fairy tales again.”
Yes, indeed, I'm thinking of what he will do for her once he reveals to her that he is Superman.
She laughed softly and relaxed into his embrace. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, Farmboy.”
“No,” he said, as serious as he’d ever been in his life. “I’m sure of us.”
And this couldn't be more perfect.
Thank you for your wonderful story, Caroline.
Ann