From Part 1:
<It’s starting to spread. We’ve just been inform that one of the nearby buildings is storing highly flammable materials. This is a major situation.>
Clark put his cutlery down. “I’m, er, I’m just going to the bathroom.”
“You OK, Clark? You look pale.” Perry asked.
“Yes, I’m fine Chief. I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve just got to, er...” he motioned towards the direction of the bathroom and made a dash for it. Just how bad could this fire be?
*.*.*.
Part 2
*.*.*.
She was beginning to get nervous now. Clark’s award was looming nearer and nearer, and he still hadn’t returned from the bathroom. She was sure whether she was more concerned that he was ill or had climbed out of a window. She hadn’t realised he was so nervous until Perry mentioned how pale Clark looked right before his disappearance. She leant over the table to speak to Perry in a hushed voice under the ceremony that was taking place before them.
“What do we do if Clark isn’t back in time to collect his award?”
“His award? You’re certain he’s going to win, are you?”
“Well, his stiffest competition wasn’t even nominated.” At Perry’s look, she dropped the sarcasm. “I’m serious, Perry.”
“Seems obvious to me,” Alice chimed in. “One of you two will have accept it for him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back, Lois,” Perry told her. “Not even Clark would miss his big moment.”
But time ticked by, and Clark didn’t reappear from the bathroom.
“He’d better be dying,” Lois muttered darkly, mostly to herself. “His award’s next.”
Alice nudged her husband. “Why don’t you go and check on him?”
Perry watched as the presenter for Clark’s award took the podium. “I think it’s too late for that, honey. Lois?”
“What?”
“Be ready.”
“Be ready? No, no way. I am not accepting Clark’s award. *If* he wins. No.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll just look like I’m stealing the limelight. It’ll draw attention to the fact I wasn’t nominated. It’ll be humiliating.”
“I think you’re being a little overdramatic,” Alice smiled.
“No I’m not. Even if no one else thinks that, Clark will. He’ll tease me about it for... forever. How I had to steal his big moment after all the fuss I made when he was nominated and I wasn’t. No, I won’t do it.”
Before one of the Whites could respond to her, the speaker’s voice came clearly across the PA system.
“And the winner is... Clark Kent of the Daily Planet for his piece on the retirement home scandal!”
As the room filled with the sound of polite applause, Lois felt her stomach turn. She was staring at Perry, he was staring back at her. And somehow, *somehow* she found herself on her feet, walking towards the stage as she had done in the past three years. Only for Clark would she do something like this, and only Perry could have gotten her to her feet. She ignored the surprised look on the presenter’s face as he handed her the Kerth, the uncertain clapping of the crowd as they realised Lois Lane had taken the podium instead of Clark Kent. And as the hesitant applause died down, her mouth opened.
“OK, you all know I’m not Clark Kent. Something came up and Clark had to leave suddenly and as his partner on many stories in the last year, I’m accepting this award on his behalf. I don’t know what Clark would say if he was up here, probably something much more heart-warming than anything I can come up with on the spur of the moment. Because that’s what he’s good at, that’s what he’s won this award for. Any one of us in this room could have written a piece on that retirement home. We could have found the facts, written the story that lead to improving the lives of those residents so dramatically. But what Clark can do better than any reporter I’ve ever met, is make the reader really feel for the people he writes about. They’re more than just a story, just another paycheque to Clark. He really cares about the welfare of every single person that he writes about and he can make every single person who reads he work care as just as much as he does. That’s an amazing talent, it’s one of the reasons I’m so lucky to be able to call him my partner... at the Daily Planet. Anyway, I know winning this award will mean a lot to him, but probably not as much as the changes made after his story broke did. This,” she held the award up, “will just be the icing on the cake.”
She smiled as they applauded her speech. She made her way back to the table but just before she sat down she saw a figure emerge from the low lighting of the auditorium.
“Were you there the whole time?” she hissed at him, too angry with him to trust herself not to yell at him and make a spectacle of herself.
Clark smiled broadly at her, that mega-watt smile that did something funny to her stomach. “No, not the whole time. I walked in when you were denying being Clark Kent.”
“And you didn’t think to come up and rescue me from that nightmare?”
He shook his head. “I enjoyed your speech too much. I don’t think I could have done better, especially if it was a ‘nightmare’, as you claim.”
“Well, no, you probably couldn’t.” Lois sat down in her seat, placing Clark’s Kerth on their table.
She waited for the tease. She had just praised him in front of a room of fellow journalists. He was never going to let it drop. He sat down. Lois trained her vision firmly on the podium, but from the corner of her eye she watched Clark look at his award in awe and she felt a sense of pride well up in her. Well, if she wasn’t going to win the award, it only made sense that it go to Clark.
*.*.*.
All in all, it hadn’t been a bad night. He’d managed to stop the fire before it caused any fatalities, and although he’d missed picking up his award, not only had he won but he’d heard Lois’ acceptance speech. She’d deny it if asked, but he suspected that she was not only proud of him; she was also pleased for him. Perhaps not as pleased and proud as she would have been if she had won, but close.
The awards had all been handed out, the speaker had given his speech and a band had started playing. Space had been made for a dance floor and many couples were already up and dancing, Perry and Alice among them. Clark glanced at Lois. Would she want to dance with him, or would that be pushing the boundaries too far.
Clark saw Lois glance at him nervously. No, perhaps that would be pushing it too far. Still, maybe she would ask him.
*.*.*.
One drink with one conversation and then home. That had always been the way Lois had dealt with the end of the awards ceremony. By that time her ‘date’ had normally consumed a little too much alcohol, and was beginning to get a little too close for comfort. Of course, this time she was the date and Clark was looking as sober as ever. Still, there was little else to do but dance after that one drink, and Clark was looking increasingly uncomfortable. Whether he was debating whether to ask her if she wanted to dance, or he was just not entirely sure to do with the award he held in his hands Lois didn’t know, but perhaps it was time to bring the evening to the end before one of them completely ruined it. Of course, there was a very-slight possibility that *not* dancing with Clark might completely ruin the evening.
“Do you want to stay and dance or are you ready to go?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I’m not that great a dancer.”
“Neither is Perry, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping him.”
There was indecision in his eyes, but there was something in his reply that made Lois think that maybe he did want to dance and, well, she had to admit that there were worse things in the world than dancing with Clark.
“Come on, Clark. We both know that you can dance. And after all, you dragged me here on a raisin, you ought to at least try to show me a good time.”
He considered this for a second, then a mischievous look appeared on his face. “You’re right, Lois. I owe my raisin that much. Hang on a moment.”
With that, Clark vanished into the mass of moving bodies. Seconds later Lois noticed him speaking to someone, then he returned to her side and held out his hand.
“Ready?”
“What was all that about?” she asked, taking his hand.
“You know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you Lois?”
“You know that I always find out everything eventually, don’t you Clark?”
And with that retort, Lois was in his arms. She almost gasped at the swiftness of that movement.
“Of course,” he murmured quietly into her ear, the vibrations from his voice sending shivers down through her body. For a moment she felt that the only thing keeping her knees from melting was holding onto his sturdy shoulders.
Just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. The current song had an upbeat tempo, not suited for close dancing, so Clark pulled away from her again so they could dance properly to the rhythm without fear of treading on each other’s feet. Lois supposed that this was a better way for two people on a raisin to dance together, friend dancing rather than romantic dancing. Still, she could still feel his arms around her, still feel his warm breath on her cheek, still smell the clean masculine scent mingled with aftershave that was ‘just Clark’ filling her nostrils.
*.*.*.
His heart beat fast as he returned to her side. He didn’t want to push this too far, but Clark feared that this was as close to getting on a real date with Lois as he was ever likely to manage. She was right; he really did owe her a good time.
“Ready?” He asked her, holding out his hand, hoping that Lois didn’t notice that his nerves were making it shake ever so slightly.
He closed his hand around her small and dainty one as soon as he felt the weight of it in his palm, barely hearing her question. “What was all that about?”
“You know what curiosity did to the cat, don’t you Lois?”
“You know that I always find out everything eventually, don’t you Clark?”
Banter, but almost a threat as well. Lois always finds everything out eventually. It was no more than a truth, one he should accept. Eventually.
In a movement far too swift for Clark Kent, he pulled her into a close embrace. She was everywhere, her body tight against his. Her perfume filled his world. And in a petty moment he realised that it was all one-sided. However much Lois’ proximity was affecting him, he was sure that his had no effect on her.
He bent down so that his lips were almost touching her ear, and said in the quietest voice he could that he knew she would hear: “Of course.”
For a second more he held her in his arms, wishing the moment could continue forever. Then he lengthened the distance between them, not trusting himself to look at her as they started to dance together.
Needing a distraction from his current thoughts, Clark looked back over at Perry and Alice, grimacing at the sight of Perry’s ‘dancing’ skills. They had been decreasing in acceptability all evening, and the dancing had only just begun.
“I don’t know which is worse,” Clark sighed, nodding towards the editor so that Lois could see who he was talking about. “His dancing or the fact that every time a song finishes, he demands they play ‘Jailhouse Rock’ next.”
Lois smiled. “I don’t know. It’s nice to see him having fun; he’s normally a lot more stressed out at work.”
“I think that’s mostly your fault.”
“At least I don’t keep running off at the worst possible moments.”
“No, of course, you just keep nearly being killed.”
She considered this for a moment and in that moment, all of Clark’s attention was drawn back to the way her body was moving to the music, in perfect timing with his own. “I suppose we can share the blame.”
The music died down for a second, and a voice filled the auditorium. “This next one has been requested...”
“Jailhouse Rock!” Perry called out joyously.
“...by the hack for his partner!”
Clark felt Lois’ eyes on him as the baseline began to fill the room. For a second he felt incredibly embarrassed, then Lois began to laugh as the people around them started dancing to ‘I Heard it Through the Grapevine’. Feeling a bit braver, Clark began to mimic the dance moves to the California Raisin commercial and Lois quickly fell into step beside him, both of them chuckling through the song.
*.*.*.
It was only after Lois had to sit down for a breather that she realised how long she had been dancing with Clark. At least half the nominees had left, although Perry and Alice were still going strong on the dance floor.
“Admitting defeat?” Clark asked her with a grin.
She glared at him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing stiletto heels and you’re wearing flats. It’s not defeat, it’s painful.”
“Come on then, let’s go home before you completely lame yourself,” was his reply, holding out his arm for her.
Lois accepted it without though and didn’t think about how it might appear until she realised that it felt nice to step out of the press building with Clark. Her feet also didn’t seem to hurt quite so much, almost as if she was no longer putting the whole of her weight on them.
“So,” she ventured as they walked along the sidewalk. “How did I rate as a raisin?”
“A-plus,” he told her. “The best raisin I’ve ever taken to the Kerth awards.”
Somehow this statement made her smile, but not from the silliness of his statement, more from the pure affection that was evident in his voice.
“And you gave the best acceptance speech I’ve ever heard.”
Lois planted her brightest smile on her face. She had almost forgotten about the speech, in fact, this was the first time he’d mentioned it since the event and he still didn’t sound as if he was teasing her. Still, she wasn’t going to let him off lightly. “Oh, yes. There was your little disappearing act as well, wasn’t there? I tell you what Clark, if you make me go through another night like this, I’ll rip out your spleen.”
Clark laughed. “I don’t doubt it for one second, Lois.”
fin
*.*.*.
Here are Lynn S M’s requests:
Three things I want in my story:
1) Lots and lots of WAFF between Lois and Clark (in either or both of his personae)
2) Word plays and other silliness
3) A happy ending
Three things I don't want in my story:
1) WHAMs
2) Anything otherworldly. (By that I mean both that I do not want an elseword/alternate universe story and that I don't want anything with ghosts, magick, or anythind else supernatural.)
3) Villains
Preferred Season:
Season 1 or 2
*.*.*.
End Note:
Wall of Sound was written by John McNamara
