This part is dedicated to Loriel Eris, for nagging me to continue; also to Sarah - Happy Birthday, Sarah!
Table of Contents Comments ~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There was nothing quite like flying to ease the tension out of a superhero's body. Clark smiled and did a barrel roll and then a quick loop, savouring the freedom and the silence.
Not like the other kind of flying. He grimaced, remembering the way his stomach had knotted and his mind had screamed when the plane had finally turned and lumbered down the runway and into the air. Yet the flight itself hadn't been nearly as bad as he'd feared, this time - no worse than his previous flight, coming back from Wichita with Lois after his first brush with Kryptonite.
This time he'd also had Lois with him, in a way. Once the terror of takeoff had eased enough to let his mind function again, he'd remembered Lois's gift of a neck support. As soon as he'd put it in place, its gentle grip had seemed to melt away his tension, and he'd found himself immersed in tender thoughts of Lois. Particularly of that kiss they'd shared just before he'd boarded. The cabin crew had insisted on shaking him awake at intervals to offer him food, but apart from that he'd actually slept through most of the flight.
That kiss...
They'd fallen into the habit, over the last few months, of sharing friendly touches every so often. His hand on her back to guide her into the elevator, her hand on his chest to emphasise a point in a discussion, linking arms as they ambled home from the Fudge Castle of an evening. But they'd never got into the habit of kissing, not even a friendly brush of lips on the cheek. It was as though they both knew that would take them into uncharted territory... and Lois had needed safe waters to restore her confidence after the dreadful mistake she'd so nearly made.
And then, on Christmas Eve, there'd been something new when he'd dropped in to see if Lois needed company. A sort of tingling in the air between them, a thrill of unusual awareness. At least, he thought Lois had felt it too... or had it just been the Christmas atmosphere and the stunning way she'd been dressed, working on his own mind? He'd had plenty of opportunity to ponder that question over the ensuing week, with first himself and then Lois on vacation, but he'd come no closer to an answer.
Until she'd returned to work, and it had still been there. His heart had done flip-flops at the sight of her, and she'd seemed equally pleased to see him. She'd brought him coffee, which he'd barely been conscious of tasting, and she'd even said she'd missed him. For one totally insane moment, the words "I love you, Lois, and I can't face spending any more time without you - will you marry me?" had danced around his brain; but when his dry mouth had opened, all that had emerged was a trite "I missed you, too."
And then Perry had called him into his office and dropped the bombshell. Clark had spent the next few hours cancelling appointments, hastily retrieving suits from dry cleaners, and packing for an unknown length of stay in Europe. He'd spent a whole hour dithering over whether to pack a Suit in his suitcase, where it might be found by a Customs baggage search, or to wear it under his clothes and risk a strip search at the security checkpoint. In the end, he'd left it in... well, wherever his clothes went when he did a spin-change; and to his relief, when he'd woken from his nap after today's trade talks he'd been able to spin into it and head across the Atlantic for his regular Metropolis patrol.
Yet, even while the topmost layer of his mind had been occupied with thoughts of his approaching journey, deep down he'd still been thinking about Lois, wondering whether her feelings towards him had really changed as much as it appeared, and where their relationship was headed. In the early hours of Christmas morning his nerve had failed him at the last moment, and he'd left without any attempt to kiss her goodbye; but in the bustling airport, with couples kissing their farewells all around, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to bend forward and touch his lips to hers. The difficult part had been pulling away again instead of dropping his belongings, sweeping her into his arms, and yielding to his long-pent-up desire to kiss her senseless.
But, brief as the kiss had been, she'd still responded. Hadn't she? She'd tilted her face up for it, instead of averting it to present her cheek; and when he'd followed his first tentative brush of the lips with a second, warmer kiss, her eyes had closed. That had to count for something, didn't it?
Feeling the old, familiar longing building inside him, Clark groaned and turned his attention back to his patrol. He'd give anything to be able to drop in on Lois tonight and find out just where he stood... but Clark was in Europe, and Superman had no business spending time with her. Whenever he visited her apartment, he tended to lose his head and end up doing something stupid, like dancing with her in mid-air, of all things. No, he had to stay well away from her.
A screech of brakes and an ominous crash, followed by cries of pain, alerted him. The icy weather was still taking its toll on the roads. Clark executed a neat flip and shot off towards the freeway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lois was missing Clark as fiercely as ever. It was as if he'd never been back, she reflected morosely... worse, even, because at odd moments she'd find her thoughts drifting to him, reliving that kiss. That frustrating, more-than-friends but less-than-lovers kiss. Had it meant as much to Clark as it had to her? Had the extra warmth she'd seen in his eyes been real - or had she just been imagining it? Had that kiss just been a token of friendship, or even worse, his way of humouring her, because she'd seemed to want more than a peck on the cheek?
As if things weren't bad enough already, Lucy had phoned earlier today, bubbling over with the news that she'd dumped Michael for good and was now dating a guy called Johnny. Lois had been as upbeat about the news as she could manage, but Lucy's happy-go-lucky attitude to dating had once again highlighted the miserable state of Lois's own love life. She'd managed to fall in love with a man she'd known - and worked with - for well over a year, and she didn't even know if he returned her feelings. How dumb was that?
Even her work, usually her refuge from such bleak thoughts, was mocking her. She, who had once guarded her solo status jealously, was missing her partner's input. Oh, she didn't *need* him - she'd managed to turn in two perfectly adequate bread-and-butter articles on her own today - but doing it with Clark would have made the boring task fun. Besides, she was secretly aware that the articles had lacked not only Clark's warm touch, but even the hard edge she usually put on her solo work. She hadn't had the energy to polish them to her normal brilliance before sending them off. She just hoped Perry didn't think she'd lost her edge.
Though maybe, if he did, he'd get Clark back earlier? But Clark was already pulling his weight in Brussels. He must have slept well on the plane after all, because he'd got stuck into the talks straight away. He'd sent a brief summary of today's negotiations over in time for the afternoon edition, followed shortly by a more in-depth appraisal for the morning. The time difference helped, of course... by now it would be close to midnight there, and Clark would be fast asleep in some fancy Brussels hotel.
And he hadn't called...
The PC clock ticked over to 6:00 PM, and Lois sighed and closed it down for the night. She certainly wasn't getting anything done, she thought morosely as she collected her belongings and stood up; to be honest, she'd done very little all afternoon except brood. She might as well just go home now, looking in on Clark's plants on the way.
And what are you going to do at home? a little voice taunted at the back of her mind, as she waited for the elevator. Spend the evening brooding?
I'm not that hopeless! she retorted indignantly. I have plenty to do at home - I've still got Ivory Tower to catch up on, and that book from my mother to read, and maybe Clark will call...
She really was hopeless, she acknowledged miserably, pulling a face at the elevator doors as they closed behind her. Janice from HR, passing by outside, started and shot her an astonished look, and Lois hastily rearranged her face into a polite smile. There was no way Clark was going to call tonight, and by the time she woke up, he'd have been hard at work for hours. The cinema near her apartment was showing Highlander 3... but she'd been hoping to go to that with Clark. An evening in front of the TV, trying desperately to get comfortable on one of her elegant but unaccommodating loveseats and wishing the phone would ring, loomed before her.
Why had she ever bought those awful instruments of torture, anyway? But of course, she knew exactly why she'd done it: to fend off amorous men. Back when she'd occasionally dated - before Lex, before her reputation as an ice maiden had started to discourage men from asking her out - her forbidding living room had repeatedly saved her from having to deal with tipsy, fumbling advances from the pitiful losers she'd attracted. She hadn't even had to worry about the consequences of inviting them in for coffee; by the time the kettle had boiled, invariably they'd been itching to leave. In those days, Lois herself had been far too busy establishing her career to need a sitting room to lounge about in.
She'd even been saved from a couple of Lucy's less desirable specimens, some of whom she'd have been scared to run into on her way to the bathroom in the morning. She wasn't sure whether Lucy was aware of the part Lois's furniture had played in their rapid exits; it could have been coincidental that Lucy hadn't headed straight for the bedroom with those particular dates, the way she normally did.
The only person who'd ever been able, or willing, to brave those loveseats for any length of time was Clark. Nothing she'd ever done - barring her temporary insanity last summer, which she still tried to avoid thinking about - had ever seemed to put Clark off. Not that he'd ever tried to take advantage of her, of course... if only...
The elevator pinged and opened on the parking level, and Lois sighed and stepped out, fumbling for her keys. A quick visit to Clark's place, and then home to shower and change into a schlumpy robe and slippers.
Or maybe...
Clark's living room was a far cry from hers. She'd spent countless evenings there since the wed... since they'd become friends again, watching videos or playing board games or just talking comfortably into the small hours. Clark had seemed to understand, without being told, how badly she'd needed the company to stave off the depression and loneliness, and he'd never seemed to mind how often she came over or how late she stayed. And in the process, she'd fallen ever more deeply in love with him.
Would he mind if she went home to shower first, and then spent the evening at his place? Surely not. She could talk to his plants - that made them grow better, didn't it? And the lights in his windows would discourage any would-be burglars.
Lois suddenly realised she was standing stock-still at her car door, a smile tugging at her lips. The smile broadened as she got into the car and headed for home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark landed silently on his balcony and strode to the door. The crash victims were all going to be fine, but he needed a shower and a change of Suits before he responded to any other calls for help.
As his fingers grasped the door handle, however, he suddenly froze. There was a light on in the living room, and a voice - what on earth...?
"... so caring - so trustworthy! Yet he's been keeping
this hidden all along?"
Lois! He'd completely forgotten giving her his keys at the airport. He should have known better! By the sound of it, she'd discovered something - he couldn't imagine what - that had given his secret away. And judging from the furious mutterings still emanating from the apartment, she was taking it hard. If he wanted any chance with her, he needed to get in there and start apologising before she worked herself up into a thorough Mad Dog fury.
He gulped and took a moment to gather his courage before heading through the door. He crossed quickly to where Lois was standing in the kitchen, putting out a pleading hand. "Lois, I swear I never meant you to find out this way..." he began.
At his first words, Lois had jumped and let out a startled yelp before whirling round into a defensive crouch. Now she was slowly straightening, her eyes widening as she took in his appearance.
"Superman!" she interrupted, clearly oblivious to what he'd been saying. "Are you hurt? No, obviously... but that blood!"
He glanced down at himself and grimaced. "It's tomato ketchup." Her eyebrows rose, and he added, "A Costmart delivery truck overturned, and there was food everywhere. I just haven't had a chance to shower and change yet. Lois, I..."
She had chuckled at his explanation, and Clark belatedly realised that she was showing no sign of being angry with him. His voice trailed away as he tried to work out what he'd missed.
"What is it, Superman?" Lois's tone was friendly and matter-of-fact. "I assume you didn't just drop by to chat..."
"No, well, I, actually..." She was looking really curious now, and Clark made an effort to pull himself together. Her nearness was starting to unsettle him, and he had a sudden urge to pull her close and kiss her. He folded his arms before he could do anything stupid.
"I was on patrol, and I saw the light on," he said. "I..." If he was back to lying, he might as well do a thorough job, but it felt uncomfortable. He could feel his cheeks growing slightly warm. "I knew Clark was away, so I thought I'd better check. And then I heard you talking - you sounded angry..."
Now she was blushing. "I was just talking to the plant," she mumbled. "It's supposed to be good for them."
He nodded politely, wondering whether she thought someone with Superman's strength must be short on brains. "But what were you angry about?" he prodded.
"It's just - well, look at it!" She waved indignantly in the direction of the living room. Clark turned obediently and peered here and there, but nothing seemed amiss. "The ficus tree!"
"Oh!" Now that she'd drawn his attention to it, it did look rather sorry for itself. Its leaves were drooping abjectly, and many of them had turned yellow. Some were even developing brown margins. "It hasn't been watered?"
"Exactly! And Clark's always so... so caring - you'd never suspect him of neglecting a poor defenceless house plant!" Underneath the indignation, her voice had a subtle extra warmth on the word "caring", and Clark's heart did a somersault. "And besides, when I offered to water his plants yesterday, he was downright rude about my record with plants! What right did he have to criticise me, when it doesn't look as if he's
ever watered that poor thing?"
He met her eyes guiltily, but of course her wrath wasn't directed at him - at Superman. "So what will you...?"
"Oh, I'll water it - if I can find a watering can - and give it a bit of TLC. I'll probably be here every couple of days. But I'll be giving Clark a really hard time about this, next time I see him! And about leaving his balcony door unlocked while he's away, though I guess with you keeping an eye on it..."
She had fixed him with a disconcertingly clear gaze, and he could feel the heat in his cheeks again. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you all right, Superman? You look -"
"Yes! I'm fine," he said hastily. "It's just..." He waved a vague hand at his Suit. "... I should probably..."
"Get your shower," she finished for him, nodding. A spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes. "Superman, where do you - you know - live? Where do you show-"
"I really have to go," he interrupted hastily. His usual lies were bad enough; he wasn't going to invent any more. "I'll see you, Lois."
He swirled around and headed for the balcony door, out into the safety of the night, praying that it wouldn't be too long before Lois finished reviving the ficus and went home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The ficus tree rustled unhappily. The unfamiliar human, small and flower-scented, had come right up to self as soon as it had arrived, and the words it had addressed to self had sounded vaguely sympathetic. Then it had moved into the kitchen area, from where self often heard the sound of running water, and self had dared to hope for a minute that it would actually bring self a drink.
But then the big human had arrived, smelling strongly of something sweet and spicy, and there had been lots more words, but no water sounds at all. Now the big one had gone again, in quite a hurry but without its usual swooshing noise; and the small one was just standing there, stone still, breathing rapidly and unevenly.
At last it moved, coming across the floor towards self. Still no water smell. The couch let out a little puff of dust as it picked up whatever it had dropped there when it first came in. Then its footsteps scuffed up the stairs and paused beside the door.
"You can get your shower now," it said; and a few seconds later, the lock clicked behind it. It was gone.
Self wilted a little.
After a while, the far door opened and the big human returned. It still had the same smell, only overlaid with a hint of sweat. Either it had been working out in the last few minutes, or it was suddenly nervous about something.
As usual, it didn't spare a thought for poor self. It disappeared in the direction of the bathroom, and soon the soft pitter-patter of rain broke the silence. The noise went on for longer than usual, as though the human was lost in thought. When the bathroom door opened again, self opened self's pores and was rewarded with a valuable waft of steamy air. All too quickly, though, the moisture had passed on.
There were quiet movements from the bedroom, and one of the whirlwind whooshes, then the human emerged again. The spicy smell was gone. This time it headed for the front door, right past self, and self gambled some of self's precious juices to send out a desperate plea for water. But, as ever, the big human ignored the chemical message completely; seconds later, it too was gone.
Sadly, self shut off the sap supply to a couple more branches and let a few leaves fall. This was going to be a long drought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
/tbc...
