Everyone stopped talking as their waitress approached the table with their entrees. When she left, Martha looked at Lois and said, “So you’re telling me that you’d never met Clark before you stepped off that plane?”
“Nope,” Lois said, picking up a bite of salmon, “I knew that Lex suspected I was lying about coming to D.C. to meet my boyfriend, and I knew that he’d never really accepted the idea that I wasn’t interested in dating him. Lex is a powerful man, and it’s not often that he can’t get whatever he puts his mind to having. It was creepy enough that he knew I’d bought the ticket since I never mentioned it to anyone, but once I realized that he’d sent someone onto my flight to follow me, I started wondering just how creepy he could get. I mean, I’ve suspected for a while that he’s pretty ruthless in his business affairs, but I’m not a business rival—just a woman with the effrontery to turn him down for a dinner date…and the ballet…and an art exhibit…or two.” She rolled her eyes good-humoredly. “But then I spent the whole flight running through everything I knew about Lex Luthor, and I started to see a pattern: when people get in Lex’s way, people get hurt. There’s never anything you could pin on him directly, but between industrial accidents, apparent suicides, and unfortunate explosions, he leaves quite a wake.” She paused briefly to take a sip if iced tea. “So by the time I stepped off the plane, I’d worked myself up to wondering what kind of accident would happen to me if Lex found out the real reason for this trip, and I decided that if I saw even a semi-likely candidate, I’d try to fake a boyfriend.”
“And you just played along?” Jonathan asked Clark. “Your didn’t realize who she was at first?”
“No. I mean, I’m familiar with her work, of course, but, like me, Lois never publishes her picture. It would make our jobs pretty difficult if everyone we investigated knew what we looked like.”
“Well, you sure looked like a happy couple when we first saw you,” Martha grinned.
“Mom!” Clark protested.
“What?” Martha defended herself. “Wasn’t that the whole point? After all, it worked on the guy that was following Lois.”
“Thank goodness,” Lois said. “If he’d kept following me, I would have had to cancel my meeting with my source.” Lois suddenly clamped her mouth closed and looked at Clark nervously. She developed a sudden interest in her rice pilaf.
“Lois,” Clark said gently, “I would never ask you to reveal a source, or to tell my what story you’re working on.”
She looked up again. “Thanks,” she said.
“But if you need them, I have some pretty good contacts—FBI, White House, Congressional staffers.” At her frown, he hastened to add, “I’m not saying you need my help. I’m just letting you know you have a friend in this city—just in case you ever need one.”
“Okay. Thanks,” she replied.
“Do you really think this is the end of it?” Martha asked. “This Lex Luthor sounds like a dangerous and determined man. Are you going to be safe once you go back to Metropolis?”
“I’ll be okay,” Lois assured her. “Now that I’m on to him, I’ll be careful with Lex.” Clark opened his mouth to protest, but Lois cut him off. “Don’t worry, Clark. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And meanwhile, I’m an investigative reporter; I’m going to investigate!”
*****
A light rain was just beginning to fall as Clark pulled into the entrance drive of the Marriott Mayflower Hotel later that night. He parked under the shelter in front of the lobby doors and opened the back hatch to retrieve Lois’s suitcase. She came around from the passenger side and reached for the bag just before he did, with the result that her hand closed on the suitcase handle, and his hand closed over hers.
Neither let go. Instead, they looked at each other with wide eyes. Then they both let go at once and straightened up with embarrassed little laughs. “I’ll get it,” Lois said, reaching for the bag again.
Clark stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “Lois.” She straightened up again, but didn’t speak. “Can I see you again?” he asked softly.
“Clark,” she said sadly, “we live in different cities.”
“But you’re here for the weekend, and you have to eat.”
“We’re professional competitors,” she protested.
“Or professional colleagues,” he countered. “You have to admit we worked pretty well together at the airport.”
That earned a smile. “Yeah, we did.”
“Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.” She opened her mouth to reply, and it looked to Clark like she would refuse, so he cut her off. “Lois—“ Her eyes went to his at the tone of his voice. The look on her face gave him the daring to lift one hand to cradle her cheek. “I can’t believe I’m the only one who feels this connection. It would be terrible if we didn’t at least explore it and see where it might lead.
She turned away, breaking the physical connection between them, and took a step away from him before turning to face him again.
“Of course I feel it! It’s…” She seemed to be searching for the right adjective.
“Amazing? Electrifying? Incredible?” he suggested.
“Terrifying,” she said quietly.
“Why?” he replied as softly. “I think we could have a fantastic time together. I’d at least like the chance to find out.”
“Sure we could. We’d have a terrific evening together. We’d eat, we’d talk, we’d laugh, maybe dance—“
“That all sounds great to me.”
“—And then Sunday evening I’d go back to Metropolis, and you’d still be here, and we’d both be miserable.”
“We wouldn’t have to be,” he countered. “What if I promise that if you want to see me again after our first date, I’ll fly up to Metropolis—as often as you like?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned in thought. “You might get sick of the commute, and then you’d resent me for it.”
Reaching for her hand, he stepped closer to her. “Lois, I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, or of doing whatever it takes to be near you.” He reached up and stroked her hair, just like he had at the airport. “But all I’m asking for right now is one date. After that, whatever happens next is up to you. You call the shots.”
She hesitated just a little, but then she smiled shyly. “Okay,” she said. “One date. Tomorrow at seven.”
He smiled warmly as he stepped back. “Seven it is.” He pulled her suitcase out of the hatch and set it at her feet. He badly wanted to kiss her goodnight, but he refrained, not wanting to scare her off. “Goodnight, Lois. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Clark.” She smiled again, and then she turned and went inside.
***Six weeks later***
“Kiss me, quick!” The words were a low, sexy murmur in Lois’s ear. She smiled and turned her head obligingly. Clark leaned forward over the back of the park bench she was sitting on and greeted her with a tender—and pretty thorough for a public place—kiss.
He walked around and joined her on the bench. He put an arm around her shoulders and used his free hand to point to the folded newspaper that sat on the bench next to her lunch. “Can I see?” he asked with eager anticipation.
Lois gladly handed him the front page section. “Be my guest,” she said, opening the plastic clamshell that held her roast turkey on whole wheat. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Have you eaten?” she asked.
She was gratified when he didn’t answer, obviously absorbed in reading. His eyes scanned the lines above the fold, and he flipped to page A6 to read the end. When he finished, he looked up at her. “You did it!” he beamed. “It’s brilliant, Lois! I’m so happy for you!”
Her wide smile mirrored his. “I thought Perry’s headline was a nice touch,” she said.
He flipped back to the front and held the paper up so they could both admire the bold type that proclaimed the FALL OF THE HOUSE OF LUTHOR. Lois saw the moment when he finally focused on the byline: by Lois Lane, with special contribution from Clark Kent, staff writer for the Washington Post.
“Lois! You didn’t have to do that! It was your story,” he said.
“I know,” she said, putting one hand affectionately on his knee, “but you helped a lot. When we met, I had one good lead about Luthor bribing congressmen over his defense contract, and spotting the tail on the plane confirmed my suspicions and convinced me to really dig into LexCorp with my Metropolis contacts, but adding your Washington contacts to the mix—plus the research you helped with—it really took both of us to put together enough evidence to unravel Luthor’s empire.” She paused to kiss him quickly. “You know, I never would have believed I’d say this about anyone, but you and I work pretty well together.
“Mmm…funny you should say that,” he said. At her questioning look, he went on, “I didn’t fly up here just to surprise you at lunch.” He took a breath and his demeanor grew serious. “Perry White called me this morning,” he told her. “We have a meeting at 1:30. I’m pretty sure he intends to offer me a job at the Planet.”
“Oh, Clark! That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. Then she frowned a little. “Would you take it if he did?” she asked. “I mean, you have so many contacts in D.C.”
“I do,” he agreed, “but they’d still be useful working in Metropolis. Government is involved in everything. You know that.”
Her smile bloomed again. “Then you’ll take it?” she asked eagerly.
He smiled back at her. “Well, I was going to ask your opinion,” he said. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel pressured in our personal relationship just because I moved to your city.”
The look of anxious hopefulness he gave her warmed her heart and moved her to reassure him with a soft hand on his cheek. “Clark, you have never pressured me.”
He placed his large hand over her small one and turned his head just enough to kiss her palm. “You don’t think you’d get tired of me if you had to see me every day at work?” His smile told her he wasn’t really worried about her answer.
“Not a chance,” she assured him.
“Then you think I should accept?”
“I’d love it if you did—but only if it’s what you want,” she hastened to add.
“A job at the Daily Planet, the chance to be closer to you, to see you every day…I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”
“Well then,” she smiled, sliding even closer to him on the bench,” I guess there’s only one thing left for you to do.”
“Oh?” He slipped his arms around her. “And what might that be?”
“Kiss me—slowly.”
