Thanks - as always - to Beth, Alisha, Nancy, Cat and now Pam who helped with a couple things yesterday
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Last time:
Clark hesitated before closing his laptop. He held out his notebook. "Here."
"What?"
"My notes from the theater. Take them."
She looked at him warily, reaching for the notebook. "What's the catch?"
He shook his head. "No catch. They're yours to write up."
She flipped through them. "Thanks." She started for the bedroom. "Listen, if either one of you want in the bathroom, you have twenty minutes before I take over."
Clark looked at Lucy who shook her head. "I just need to get dressed and do my hair. I don't need in the bathroom for either one of those."
He stood. "Then I'm going to hop in the shower, if that's okay. I probably should have after I got back but got to talking to Lucy so..."
He went to Lois' room, gathered his things and took a quick shower, changing into shorts and a T-shirt when he was done. His tux was hanging in a bag in Lois' closet. It wouldn't take him long to actually get dressed even without using his gifts.
He headed out into the living room. "All done."
He looked up to see Lois standing there with his laptop open and his notes in her hand. He couldn't read the look on her face.
"What were you thinking?"
Chapter 8Lois scanned through Clark's notes as he headed for her room and the bathroom. She could do something with these. Maybe not exactly what Perry wanted, but something. She might even be able to get it sent to him before the limo showed up.
"Don't do it," Lucy said quietly.
"Don't do what?" Lois asked absently.
"I don't know what exactly your relationship is with Clark but he's spent two hours working on that story."
She looked up. "What?"
"He got back here about two and has been working on it ever since."
"It's taken him two hours to write *this*?" Lois asked skeptically, holding up the notebook.
"He did a bunch of research online and stuff, too."
"For this?"
Lucy shrugged. "Yeah, for that. I don't know why he gave it to you, but..."
Lois nodded, before glancing at the laptop and back at the bathroom. She moved to the table, popping the computer open. She pressed the power button and waited impatiently for it to 'wake up'.
"What are you doing?" Lucy hissed at her.
"Reading his article."
"Isn't that an invasion of his privacy?"
Lois glared at her. "We slept in the same bed last night, not for the first time, and reading his article is an invasion of his privacy?" That implied so much more to Lucy than was the truth, while also implying so much less.
Lucy wisely kept her mouth shut as Lois sat down and started scrolling through the story.
By the time Clark walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Lois was nearly done.
She stood up to face him, doing her best not to get distracted by the way the shirt stretched across his chest or how well the sleeves accented the muscles in his arms.
"All done," he announced.
"What were you thinking?" she asked him.
"What?" he asked, his eyes shifting between her and his open computer. "What're you doing?"
"Why'd you give these to me?" she practically demanded, holding out the notepad.
"So you can write the story for Perry," he said moving towards the table and shutting the laptop.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd already spent a couple hours on it? That you were going to submit it to Perry yourself?"
"It's your job. Your boss you're in trouble with. There's no guarantee he'd even buy it if I sent it to him."
She had turned around to face him. "This is good, Clark. This is *really* good. It's not my style at all – touchy feely and all that – but it's good. If Perry doesn't buy it, he's stupid and Perry is *not* stupid."
"You really think it's that good?" he asked, sounding more than a bit skeptical.
"Yes, it's really that good." She tossed the notebook on the table. "I'm not writing it. Yours needs a bit of polish, but send it to him."
With that she turned and walked to her room, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against it and sighed.
He was good. He was as good as she was as a writer. It didn't have her edge or need any investigative skills but it was very good.
Whatever else Clark Kent was, he wasn't a hack reporter.
But he was going to give her the story.
What did that mean? She pondered that as she headed for the bathroom to get ready.
By the time she exited, hair and makeup done, towel wrapped firmly around her, she knew that her sister and Clark were already dressed. She went to the closet and her hand hovered over the blue dress she'd planned on wearing for to the Ball. It had fit like a glove when she'd bought it a couple months earlier. Odds were it wouldn't fit anymore. She'd noticed over the last week that her clothes were fitting a bit tighter. Not much, but enough that it would probably be very noticeable in the blue dress.
Instead she chose a dress in deep burgundy.
It had a scooped neckline, not too low, and pleated at the satin empire waist. The front draped loosely, forgiving enough that no one would notice the slight bump at her waist. The flowing skirt and sheer overskirt were sexy and flirty at the same time while still being modest. The back, however... The slim spaghetti straps went over her shoulders, making a crisscross pattern, meeting the opposite sides of the dress at the satin sash on either side of the small of her back. The skirt was long enough that even with her best heels, it pooled slightly on the floor.
She slipped it on over her head before eyeing herself critically in the mirror. She looked good. She didn't look pregnant.
Her hair was down, brushing against her shoulders in waves. She'd put a small clip on one side to keep it out of her face. She glanced at the clock. Five after seven. She studied the three pairs of heels she'd gotten out of her closet earlier.
Undecided, she picked up all three and headed into the living room. "Lucy, which pair of shoes..." She looked up and stopped speaking, looking back and forth between her sister and Clark, who had stood. "What?"
She smiled to herself, knowing exactly what 'what' was. She looked great. Clark's reaction was especially satisfying for some reason. His jaw was on the floor and she was sure he'd lost the ability to speak.
And then she got a good look at him and decided it was just as well they weren't trying to carry on a conversation. Clark didn't have his jacket on yet, but he looked incredible. He was wearing his tux, obviously, but something about it definitely agreed with him. The crisp white shirt. The patterned suspenders. The black cummerbund and matching bow tie.
The phrase 'good enough to eat' came to mind, but Lois shoved that thought away.
"You look... incredible," Clark managed to say.
"Thanks." Instead of returning the compliment, she turned to Lucy. "Which shoes, Luce?"
"You're going to be on your feet all night and no one's going to see them," her sister pointed out. "Which ones are the most comfortable?"
Lois sighed. "My tennis shoes."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Be serious."
She looked at the shoes in her hand again. "Fine." She turned and smiled slightly to herself when she heard Clark's sharp intake of breath when he saw the back of her dress. She tossed two pairs of shoes in the closet and slipped the other ones on just as there was a knock on the door.
Two minutes later, she turned to lock the door after everyone had left ahead of her. She turned to see Clark standing there, now complete with his jacket.
"I meant it," he said softly. "You look incredible."
"Thanks."
He allowed her to walk ahead of him, his hand finding its way to the – bare – small of her back. The warmth radiating from that spot was almost enough for her to turn around, drag him back to her apartment and have her way with him.
She managed to keep her libido under control and a minute later they were in the limo.
*****
"Would you like to dance?" Clark asked Lois as she sipped on a glass of sparkling grape juice. He'd taken the same thing in deference to her pregnancy.
She hesitated before nodding. "Sure." He was her da... escort for the night and she should dance with him. It had nothing to do with wanting to be close to him, to have him hold her in his arms... She sighed and started walking towards the dance floor.
He followed her, taking her hand and pulling her into his arms. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly, keeping what he hoped was an acceptable distance between them.
She nodded, aware of the scent of his aftershave and the tingle where his hand rested solidly on her lower back. Her hand rested on his arm and she could feel the play of muscles through his jacket. She shifted closer to him so he couldn't see her close her eyes and remember the feeling of those arms around her in that room half a country away.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath warm against her ear.
She hesitated. "I'm a bit tired," she finally said, using that as an excuse to lean slightly against him. "But I still have an interview to get tonight."
"Do you ever stop working?"
There was a long silence between them. "No. Not very often."
He let that go by. That was something they'd probably need to talk about at some point with regards to the baby, but this wasn't the time or the place. "Who's the interview with?"
The music stopped and she moved away from him. "I'll catch up with you in a bit," she called over her shoulder. She needed to get away from him, from the way she had a hard time thinking when she was that close to him.
What she needed to do was get that interview.
She picked up another glass of sparkling grape juice, sipping on it as she waited for their host to show up. A minute later, she saw him coming down the stairs. She set her glass down and moved to be in position.
She waited for her moment. "Bruce Wayne. Why haven't you returned my calls?" she said loudly enough to be heard over the conversation din around the room.
He turned and walked towards her.
"Lois Lane. Daily Planet," she said smiling at him.
"I can assure you I won't make that mistake again." He took her hand and kissed it lightly as the music started again. "May I have this dance, Ms. Lane?"
She nodded slightly, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between them. He did have a bit of a reputation as a ladies' man and she was, technically, a married woman. Whose husband was around here somewhere. "Pardon my boldness, Mr. Wayne..."
"Please, call me Bruce," he said as he led her around the dance floor. "And boldness is a trait I find attractive in a woman."
"So, Bruce, I know you're hesitant to give interviews..." She tried not to notice that there was someone else on the dance floor. There were lots of someone else's on the dance floor but one someone else in particular.
And he was dancing with a blonde.
She supposed if she could dance with someone else, so could he.
Bruce brought her attention back to him. "A man in my position can be easily misinterpreted. I've had bad experiences with the media."
"Not with me," she told him, looking him straight in the eye.
"Very true. But for the moment, let's just enjoy the dance, shall we?"
She nodded, keeping her eyes firmly on anything but Clark and the blonde. When she did sneak a glance towards them, she found Clark looking directly at her.
Clark turned away, not wanting to get into a staring match while trying to dance.
"You dance very well," said the blonde woman he was dancing with. She kept trying to move slightly closer than he was comfortable with.
"Thank you, Mayson. I learned a long time ago."
"You never did say what brought you to Metropolis."
"Personal reasons," he told her.
"What kind of personal reasons?"
He sighed. "Family reasons and that's really all I'm willing to say about it."
"Your wife?" she asked suddenly.
His wife. The one currently dancing with the world's biggest playboy.
He hesitated. "She lives in Metropolis."
"And you don't. Or didn't until this week."
He nodded.
"So trouble in paradise?" she asked quietly.
"None of your business, Ms. Drake," he said, moving away from her. He turned, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor by herself.
He walked across the floor until he found the person he sought. He tapped the other man's shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?"
Lois glared at him, subtly, under her lashes as Bruce stepped away from her.
"Thank you for the dance, Ms. Lane." He bowed slightly before turning away.
Clark pulled Lois into his arms. Closer than Mayson had been; closer to him than Bruce had been.
She sighed. "I was *this close* to getting that interview, Clark. So who's the blonde?"
"What blonde?"
"The one you were dancing with."
"Oh. Jimmy introduced her to me. Mayson Drake. She's an assistant DA."
"Ah. I would have thought line dancing was more your style," she said without looking at him. Without closing her eyes and seeing him dancing with the mousy brunette.
"I can line dance, too. I can two-step and Tush Push with the best of 'em, but I learned this from a Nigerian princess. She'd studied in England..."
His voice trailed off as she pushed away from him, turning away and heading for the doors to the balcony.
He sighed and followed her.
Lois could sense his presence as she stepped out of the subdued lighting of the ballroom to the velvet blackness of the night. She didn't want to talk to him. She never should have invited him to stay with her. She never should have invited him to the ball. She never should have avoided calling a lawyer. She never should have told him she was pregnant.
Clark didn't move too close to her. Close enough they could talk without any of the few other people on the balcony overhearing. "What's wrong?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. I just didn't feel like dancing anymore."
He started to say something else, but she turned on her heel and headed back inside. He'd heard the announcement too, but had planned on ignoring the speech being given by their host.
But she was working, he reminded himself. He had no idea if she was covering this for the Planet or if someone else was.
Several short speeches were made by Bruce Wayne and others. They announced how much money had been raised for the children of both Metropolis and Gotham.
Clark chatted with several of the Daily Planet contingent, until he saw Lois walking towards the front entrance with Lucy and Jimmy in tow. Was she leaving without mentioning to him?
He made his excuses and followed them, catching up as they entered the elevator which would take them to street level where the limo was waiting.
The ride home was nearly silent.
He was only slightly surprised when Lucy didn't get out when they reached Lois' apartment building.
Lois didn't say anything as Clark helped her out of the car. Or as they walked up the stairs. Or as she unlocked the door. Or as she decided she wanted to listen to some music and turned on the CD player.
Maybe Clark would take the hint and disappear if she kept ignoring him. She headed to the kitchen and pulled out leftovers from the barbecue place where she'd eaten lunch. She stuck the plate in the microwave and punched the button.
Did she want to go change before she ate? She did but that meant moving all the way to her room, finding clothes to change into and...
The microwave beeped. She took her plate to the table and sat down, kicked her shoes to the side as she did.
"How're you feeling?" Clark asked from where he'd sat down on one of the couches.
"Hungry." She took a big bite of the sandwich.
"That's good, right?"
"Better than nauseous," she retorted.
He was quiet for a moment. "I'd imagine so."
She ate in silence for a moment. "You can help yourself if you want something to eat."
"I'm fine. Thank you, though."
She took the last bite. "Nigerian princess, huh?" Why was she doing this to herself? She really didn't want to know about the women in the past.
"Yeah. I met her while I was traveling last year."
She made a small sound that sounded something like a 'hmmm' but that was it. 'Fly Me To The Moon' came on the stereo and she closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her.
"You like this song?" Clark asked, seeing the small smile playing around her lips.
"It's my favorite."
She heard his footsteps walking towards her, opening her eyes when they stopped next to her. She looked up at him.
He held out a hand and bowed slightly. "May I have the pleasure of this dance, Ms. Lane?"
"My feet hurt," she said, smiling slightly as she shook her head.
He smiled back, the dazzling grin that made her inside do back flips. "Trust me."
She sighed and took his hand, allowing him to help her up. He pulled her into his arms and a second later she gasped.
"Clark!" She clung more tightly to him as her feet left the floor.
"*This* is dancing," he said softly in her ear as he twirled her in the air.
Her mouth dropped open as they moved around the room.
They were... floating!
It was... wonderful!
She threw back her head, laughing. "This is wonderful," she told him.
"And it doesn't matter if your feet hurt."
"You're right." She still held to him a bit more tightly than was probably necessary, but in return, he tightened his hold on her.
Clark closed his eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Tired?"
She nodded against him.
He leaned down and caught her off-guard when he swept her into his arms. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him.
She could tell when his feet touched the ground. His skin was so close to hers. All she wanted to do was kiss it. Just one little feather light kiss where she could see his pulse moving. At some point, he'd taken his tie off and undone a couple of buttons on his shirt. His jacket was also long gone.
Just one.
One little kiss.
Before he set her down.
She shifted slightly in his arms as he walked into her room – 'accidentally' letting her lips graze his skin.
He turned towards her and his lips were right there...
Lois could feel his breath on her face. She bit her bottom lip. All she wanted to do now was kiss him.
She moved towards him, her lips settling lightly on his as he lowered her feet to the floor. She left her arms around his neck, looking up at him.
"What was that for?" he asked softly.
She shrugged. "Wanted to." She rested her head against his chest, hoping he would just hold her for a minute.
Clark hesitated slightly before wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him. He tried to make sure he didn't hold her too tightly.
They stood there for a long moment before she moved back slightly. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning up to brush her lips against his cheek.
Clark turned his head to kiss her temple, but a shock ran through him as his lips touched hers.
One kiss turned into two.
Two kisses turned into three.
Three kisses turned into...
They both lost count.
Lois rested her hands against his chest as his ran up and down her nearly bare back. Her fingers played with one of his buttons before nimbly slipping it through the buttonhole. She slid her hands a little lower to the next button, her finger grazing against his skin as she did.
Clark moaned slightly at the feel of her fingers brushing against his chest and his lips left hers to trail a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck as she continued to unbutton his shirt. She tugged the bottom out of his pants, where it was still held in place by both his cummerbund and his suspenders.
She groaned as the shirt didn't do what she wanted it to. She reached around him and undid the fastener, tossing the cummerbund to the side before returning between them, unclipping the suspenders and sliding her hands up his chest to push them over his shoulders. The feeling of his lips on her skin as he kissed his way across her shoulder urged her on and a second later she had his shirt completely unbuttoned and her arms slipped underneath it, her hands running over his back.
Clark undid one cuff link and then the other, not knowing or caring where they fell. Lois' hands were on his shoulders as he kissed her again. Together they worked his shirt off as the kiss reached a feverish pitch.
Lois felt his fingers slide under the straps holding her dress up.
"Is there some secret to this?" he murmured into her neck.
She shook her head.
He kissed her again, long and deep and passionate before stepping back slightly.
She kept her eyes closed as his fingers came up and over her shoulders, still hooked under the spaghetti straps.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded and, in unison, his fingers moved the straps down her arms until gravity took over, pulling the dress to the floor.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, lowering her to the bed before bending over enough to kiss her lower abdomen.
Where the baby was.
And then... He put one knee on the bed and lowered himself next to her, careful, she was sure, to keep his full weight from resting on her.
They lost themselves in each other, in the sounds and sensations of two halves once again becoming a whole.
*****
TBC
This dress in
this color with a back more like
this one .
