Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Lane Lane

Title: Lane Lane

Author's note: To fully understand this fanfic, I recommend reading Part 1. Check it out here: TOC



Standing on the sidewalk in front of the Crescendo Café, Lois wondered again how she had gotten herself into this situation.

It was all a trap: after they had left the pub, Lucy hadn't made a single mention of the man who had asked Lois out. For the rest of the night and all the following day, she was left alone with her own indignation, brooding over the possible counter-arguments with which she could have defeated Clark Kent. This proved to be anything but beneficial, because on Friday night, Lois finally pulled the scrap of paper from the bottom of her bag and unfolded it. A phone number stared back at her in firm, clear handwriting, with unmistakable, legible digits. There was no "seven" that looked like a "one" and no "three" that looked like an "eight." A trap, yes, skillfully woven, and Lois had been caught in it. The number dialed itself on the phone, someone with a voice very much like her own arranged a date with Clark Kent, and now she was here.

She tapped her foot on the sidewalk and glanced at her watch. When the hand hit 4:01 PM, Lois took off her beige cardigan in order to enter the coffee shop. She took a deep breath, adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, and ran her fingers through her hair, deciding at the last minute to part it on the left.

Clark was fiddling with the buttons of the checked shirt he had put on over his plain gray T-shirt, still trying to decide whether to leave it open, as it already was, or to button it up. It was a piece he really liked: checked, predominantly dark blue, crossed by a few thin stripes in red and yellow. It was casual, but with the buttons fastened, it took on a more serious appearance. He had spent more time than he would like to admit alternating between the combinations in front of the mirror, until he had finally chosen to leave the shirt open. Now that he had been sitting for fifteen minutes and the water he had been drinking was gone, he was beginning to doubt again.

When the door opened, he immediately looked up. Lois was simple but beautiful, wearing jeans, short boots, and a purple V-neck long-sleeved shirt. Something golden glittered on her right ear when she turned her head to find him among the occupied tables of the café. He stood up, which made her spot him quickly.

Lois found the gesture amusing; after all, he could have simply waved. Either way, she moved towards him and analyzed the establishment, to avoid eye contact while walking (that's always very awkward). The place seemed cozy, with paintings scattered on the cream-colored wall, a shelf full of books, and a chalkboard with announcements. Soft jazz played on the radio, and the customers talked without raising their voices. The table Clark had chosen pleased her: far from the dimness, yet safe from the strong orange glow of the sunset. The chairs were arranged so that neither of them would have their back to the door.

As she approached close enough, Clark pulled out the chair for her in a natural gesture. She tried not to react and simply slipped onto her seat, then deciding to provoke him to shake off the sudden nervousness. "I would have found you soon enough, Mr. Kent. You didn't have to stand up."

He settled in across from her, smiling. "Good afternoon, Lois. I'm glad you came."

Trying to beat me with politeness, huh? "Good afternoon." She smiled sweetly. See, Clark Kent? I can be polite too. "And of course I came, I said I would. I'm not a liar." He let out a short laugh. "Oh, you're not going to defend yourself against my implied accusation?"

"I could, if I thought you really interpreted me that way. But I've already figured out that you take great pleasure in twisting everything I say, and I don't want to be a killjoy."

Lois raised her eyebrows. "Someone's feeling quite bold today."

"I'm thinking only of your entertainment. Now you can tease me all you want about what I said."

She narrowed her eyes at his bright smile. "Bold and happy," she corrected her previous statement. "Careful, Mr. Kent. People tend to do foolish things when they're too cheerful."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? I really am too cheerful. I got my dream job and I'm on a date with a beautiful, intelligent woman. What more could a guy ask for?"

"That the woman were a little less intelligent, perhaps," Lois retorted, surprised by how disconcerted she was by his compliments. It wasn't as if she had never been called beautiful by a man. Or intelligent, for that matter. Well, Perry and Jimmy had called her intelligent, at least. And a few teachers over the years. But none of them counted, honestly.

Clark let out another of his short laughs, as if he couldn't contain himself. "And, on top of everything, funny."

The waiter appeared to take their orders. Clark asked for a cheese sandwich and hot apple cider (he had been really craving a glass since Thursday, when he had to accept his drink coming without cinnamon), and Lois ordered black coffee and a slice of chocolate cake.

The interruption came in handy, allowing Lois to acknowledge that it was gratifying that a man appreciated her humor, for a change, instead of interpreting all her sharp comments as proof of the "inner bitterness of her soul" (exact words from Rob Levine, a crazy psychologist she had gone out with a few times last year). She was a complex person, after all, and she was glad that someone finally saw that — and on top of that, seemed to like it. This was the first truly positive thing she admitted to herself about Clark Kent, or the second, if you counted her telling Lucy she found him handsome. Well, you can't deny such a visibly irrefutable fact, Lois thought, glancing at his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline.

When the waiter left, she decided to strike up a conversation, in order to redirect her own thoughts. "So, you said you got your dream job?"

"I did. At first, my boss didn't seem inclined to give me a chance. Then I solved a pending task and took the result to him. He was convinced, in his own words, by my proactivity, and I start this Monday." Clark didn't sound arrogant while telling his achievement, and Lois actually found it charming that he included the part where he had initially been dismissed. "But we aren’t talking about work on our first date."

"Aren’t we?" Now she was genuinely curious about what his job was.

"Not on our first date. Maybe on the third. Or the second, if you're lucky."

Ha! "Your arrogance will take you to some very inhospitable places, Mr. Kent."

"My self-confidence ," he corrected softly, "got me my current position at the job I've always wanted. Besides, you really should call me Clark. Or at least tell me your last name, so we're even."

"I didn't tell you only for your entertainment," she echoed his earlier explanation, with a dismissive gesture. "I'm very famous in the city. I wouldn't want you to look something up about me and ruin your fun."

"Well, can you tell me now?"

She ran her finger over the dark wooden table, wiping away a drop of water. "Do I have a choice? It's Lois Lane. "

"Lois Lane," Clark repeated, savoring the sound on his tongue. Lois wasn't immune to the effect of his soft voice saying her name, but she hid it well. "It's not unfamiliar, but... I don't remember hearing about you."

Lois blinked, unsure whether to feel surprised or offended or indignant. Fine, not being recognized by face she could handle, but not being recognized by name?

"How long have you lived here?" she asked, inquisitive. She wondered if he didn't read the Daily Planet — because, after all, what kind of Metropolis resident doesn't read the Daily Planet? If he's a Star reader, I'm getting up and leaving right now, she decreed.

"Officially? I'm still looking for an apartment. I've been staying in the city since this past Thursday. My job interview was yesterday."

"Oh." Lois straightened up in her chair, only then realizing she had leaned forward. She nodded, as if his answer was what she had expected all along. "Since Thursday. Of course."

Clark's eyes were suspiciously bright, but he didn't laugh this time.

"Well," she continued, as if nothing had happened. "And where are you from?"

"I'm from Kansas."

"Kansas. Dorothy, tornadoes, and cornfields. Got it. You do have a bit of an accent, actually, now that I stop to notice. Where in Kansas specifically?"

"Smallville."

She stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Um, yes. I am."

She kept staring at him, waiting for it to be a joke. He didn't laugh, so apparently it was serious. My God, she thought. I couldn't make that name up.

"Okay," Lois continued. "And how many cows do you have?"

Clark frowned. "Hey! It's kind of prejudiced to assume I lived on a farm and had cows just because I grew up in Kansas."

In response, Lois simply shrugged.

He sighed, defeated. "We have twelve cows."

"Twelve? That seems pretty low."

"It's not a big farm. But we have more chickens. Thirty-four."

"Mm-hmm," Lois murmured. Suddenly, she froze, as if something had occurred to her. "Wait. I've got it. You grew up taking care of animals and you're a vegetarian! So that's why you ordered a cheese sandwich."

Before Clark could correct her, the waiter returned with their respective orders. They thanked him and began to eat.

It was only when he swallowed the first bite of his sandwich that he realized something.

"Wait a minute..."

Lois was chewing her chocolate cake. "What?" She covered her mouth with her hand.

"If your last name is Lane and you're a single mother, then your son's name is Lane Lane?"

Lois swallowed hard — or rather, swallowed the cake. "Well, um, you see, we call him Lane, but his actual name is, um..." Her gaze darted around the room, searching for salvation, until it landed on a San Pellegrino bottle on the nearby table. Perfect! "Sam. His name is Sam. Samuel. Lane."

Clark murmured in understanding, glancing at the water bottle with a smirk she didn't notice because she was busy with her cake. "Sam Lane. Fits."

Lois raised her eyebrows, bringing the cup to her lips. You have no idea. "I think so too." Actually, she scolded herself for not having thought of that before. Samuel Lane — her father's name! What more common choice for a single mother than to name her son after her father? But no!, she exclaimed internally, It took a bottle of sparkling water for me to reach the most obvious conclusion in the world! Of course, she had to give herself some slack: it was a common thing for single mothers who liked the father, and that wasn't exactly her case. That was the Daily Planet's star reporter, too committed to the truth for her own good.

"But it's a shame," Clark continued, taking a sip of his drink and interrupting her musings. "I like Lane Lane better. It's a perfect name for an imaginary child."

He took a generous bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, without looking at her. Lois froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"This sandwich is really good. Want a piece?"

"He's not—" She tried to control the volume of her voice. "He's not imaginary!"

"Oh, he isn't?"

"No!" She was practically whispering her shouts, brandishing her fork — a piece of cake precariously balanced on it — at him like a threat. "He's real."

"Sure."

"He's ten years old, stubborn, loves baseball and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and hates vegetables, fruits and math!"

"Oh, all the things I assumed about him on Thursday!" Clark raised his eyebrows. "What a coincidence. Seems like I'm really good at guessing."

Her eyes widened. He was right, she realized. Now what am I going to do? Mentally, Lois frantically knocked on her brain's door to see if the brilliant three-time Kerth Award-winning investigative journalist was still in there.

There was no answer.

"It's— I mean, actually—"

"Come on, Lois." He set his half-eaten sandwich down on the plate and took a sip of his apple cider. "We both know that Lane Lane doesn't exist, so why don't we save your time and get past this?"

Lois's shoulders slumped and she shoved a piece of cake into her mouth, defeated. Chocolate had always been her most faithful comforter. Her plan was to use the time while she chewed and swallowed the food to think of a way to come out on top of this situation, but it was a bit difficult.

All that was left for her was to remove the remaining pieces of her armor and accept her fate with honor and dignity.

Lois dropped her fork onto the plate. "How did you find out?" she asked, still with her mouth full, because she couldn't wait for the chewing time. In the end, it wasn't a very good illustration of honor or dignity.

Clark took another bite of his sandwich and also answered with his mouth full. "Your sister told me."

Dammit, Lucy! "I knew she was taking too long to get in the car!"

"Yeah."

"Let's see how she likes not getting in my car anymore and having to walk to the subway station every day." Lois narrowed her eyes at some random spot on the wall and took a sip of coffee, sketching out various revenge plans.

"You know what I find funniest about all this?" said Clark, on the verge of laughter.

"Is there something funny about all this?" she retorted.

He ignored her comment. "One of the first things you told me today was that you're not a liar. Ironic, isn't it?"

Lois slammed her cup down on the table. Luckily, only half the liquid remained and nothing spilled. "How dare you!"

Clark raised one hand in a harmless gesture, using the other to bring his cup to his lips and hide his smile. Teasing Lois Lane was proving to be one of the most fun things he had ever done in his entire life. "I just said I found it ironic, nothing more."

"I lied out of necessity, okay?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her mouth formed a pout that Clark found adorable.

"I understand. You wanted to get rid of men. But wouldn't it be easier to just say you already have a boyfriend?"

"That doesn't always work. Sometimes they get more excited about the competition."

"Fair enough," he conceded. "And does the fake son tactic always work?"

"It just didn't work with you," Lois replied, still with her arms crossed. She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to figure him out.

"Well, I'm glad about that," he admitted. "Looks like I'm very lucky."

They shared a loaded look. Lois felt a blush threatening to rise, and she never blushed.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you're a cruel person, Lois Lane," Clark continued, casually taking a sip of his drink.

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"And may I know why?" She wouldn't bother to defend herself, especially since it was true.

"You made me get attached to Lane Lane."

That surprised Lois, and with a laugh, she uncrossed her arms and rested them on the table. "Oh, come on, Kent!"

"I'm serious." He mirrored her posture. "I was already preparing myself to become a stepfather and do all those things I told you with him." Clark shrugged. "Now I have no one to help with homework, teach how to plant a vegetable garden, or explain the importance of making your own bed. I even thought about giving him a chicken from my farm! Taking care of an animal is great for kids to develop a sense of responsibility."

A chicken? In my apartment? "Over my dead body," she replied without hesitation.

"But the garden idea was good, admit it."

"Yeah, maybe."

In a short, comfortable silence, Clark finished his sandwich, and Lois, her cake.

"If it makes you feel any better," she added, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "I have an aquarium full of fish." She took the last sip of coffee, so relaxed that she didn't even notice the indirect invitation she had just made. "I'd say they'd be almost as cool company as Lane Lane."

"I don't know, Lois." Clark clicked his tongue and feigned a disappointed expression. "I don't think fish would be very interested in taking care of a garden."

Lois tried to suppress her smile by biting the inside of her cheek, but it was in vain. She looked at him through her eyelashes, her eyes shining, and Clark had to brace his foot behind the chair to keep himself from floating. His heart raced in his chest; he raced entirely. Suddenly, he felt simply more — almost a super-man.

***

The rest of the date went wonderfully well, much better than Clark had dared to hope. After Lois questioned him to her heart's content, she finally felt comfortable enough to start opening up. They teased each other and exchanged stories about their childhoods, life experiences and tastes. By the end, he was completely enchanted by her, from her sarcastic jokes to the way she tucked her hair behind her ear. And he managed to convince her to go out with him a second time, on Friday, under the argument that if he could never take Lane Lane to an arcade, he should at least be able to take her as a consolation prize.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Can I have your phone number?" Clark asked, as they were leaving the café.

Lois had to rest the paper on her left hand to write, which resulted in shaky handwriting, a "three" that looked like an "eight," and a "seven" that looked like a "one." Clark, however, assured her he could understand it.

"Did you come by car?" he wanted to know.

"No. I wasn't in the mood to look for parking." A few months ago, Cat Grant had written about the Crescendo Café and its always-full parking spots and tables, so she didn't want to risk it. "I'll call a taxi."

He reached into his jeans pocket, looking for his wallet. "Let me—"

Lois patted him on the shoulder. "The coffee was on you, farm boy, but you can leave this part to the city girl." Then she whistled, and a car stopped almost immediately.

"Wow. That was actually impressive." Before she could respond or do anything, he opened the car door for her. "Thank you, Lois. I really had a great time today."

She sighed. "Me too."

"I'm already looking forward to seeing you again."

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Lois wondered if he would kiss her right there, and she couldn't tell if she would like that or not. Instead, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

The driver cleared his throat and put an end to any butterflies Lois might have been feeling. She smiled at Clark, who closed the car door after she got in. And she felt the touch of his lips against her skin for the rest of the day.

***

On Monday, they bumped into each other for the second time — only now at the Daily Planet newsroom.

"What are you—" Lois began, so stunned that she didn't even bother to pick up the papers that had fallen from the collision. "Oh no. The dream job you mentioned..."

"Yeah, it was here," Clark replied, with a surprised smile. He bent down and quickly gathered the papers to hand them to her. "I can't believe you work here too! What a coincidence."

Lois thanked him mechanically, wanting to slap her own forehead. What are the chances of something like this happening? Their date on Saturday had been good, really good, actually; but this was a perfect recipe for disaster.

She cleared her throat. "Nice to meet you, Clark Kent. I'm Lois Lane."

Clark frowned but shook the hand she offered him. "I thought we were past this stage."

"We were," Lois said, the sound of her heels echoing on the floor as she started moving again, forcing him to keep up with her pace. She was careful to lower her voice so as not to attract curious ears. "We went straight from the 'arcade date next Friday' stage to the ‘strictly professional relationship’ stage. Welcome to the Planet, by the way."

After a moment of shock, Clark resumed walking with long strides behind her. "Wait a minute. Are you... I mean, do you want to cancel our date?"

"Keep your voice down! Do you know how long Cat Grant has been thirsty for some information about my personal life?" Lois whispered through clenched teeth. She pulled him into a nearby corner where almost no one passed by. "And it's obvious we have to cancel. We're going to be coworkers!"

"I understood that, but Lois—"

"You understood? Great."

Considering the discussion over, she turned and resumed her march, clutching the papers with determination. Before she could take a third step, Clark positioned himself in front of her, blocking her way.

"Lois," he repeated, more firmly this time. "I asked if you want to cancel."

They stared at each other for a moment. The newsroom, oblivious to the drama unfolding, continued lively and noisy in the background.

"There's no way this can work, Clark," she replied. That was, Lois realized, the first time she had called him by his name.

"And why not? No, I know. You think we won't be able to separate things."

And also that when we break up, it'll be terrible for us to keep working together. "Yes."

"And that if we break up, we'll never want to look at each other's faces again, let alone work as a team."

She blinked. He really was good at guessing. "Well, yes."

"I think you're right to be cautious. I also value the opportunity I got here at the Daily Planet very much, and I won't make Mr. White doubt that he was right to hire me. You can be sure of that." Clark took a deep breath. He looked at his own shoes and then back at her. "But I also don't want to give up on you. I've never met anyone I've enjoyed talking to as much as you. Our date was the best I've ever had in my life."

Lois sighed. "For me too," she confessed, her voice suddenly shy.

Hope lit up his face. "I think we fit. I'll try very hard to make this work, if you'll let me. And even if it doesn't work... don't we deserve a chance?" He paused, daring to believe her heart would agree. "Lois, above all else, I respect you. I promise that, regardless of anything, I'll never do anything to make you uncomfortable."

Even though it was a sincere speech, Lois knew full well that it gave no guarantee that things wouldn't turn into a tragedy. Life's circumstances didn't depend on anyone's will. But the way we handle them, doesn't that depend on our will? She bit her lip and stared into his puppy-dog eyes. He said he would try, but the truth was that he had been trying since Thursday at the pub, when she had made his life so difficult. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Lois knew he was different. He had given her his own number instead of asking for hers right away! She couldn't remember the last time a man had placed himself in a position of vulnerability when he had the opportunity to put the woman there.

"Alright." Lois looked away, embarrassed by the weight of his admission. "I won't ruin your fun, farm boy. But when we get tired of seeing each other both inside and outside the Planet, don't say I didn't warn you."

Clark flashed a smile so dazzling that Lois's gaze was drawn to it, like a moth to a lamp. "Deal."

"Good, we understand each other." She extended her hand to him, and they shook hands once more. "We should discuss the details and fine print of our agreement soon, if we want to move forward with this."

"Sure, whatever you prefer."

"Lane, Kent!" Perry White's booming voice reached them and made them start in surprise. "I see you've already introduced yourselves. Great. Come here, quick! I've got an assignment for you two. And yes, Lois, you heard right, I said 'you two.' Until Kent can walk on his own, you're going to be his partner."

As Lois ran after the editor, protesting against the task of babysitting the rookie and saying she had better things to do, Clark remained frozen in place. Lane Kent. Mr. White, without knowing it, had just planted a powerful — and intrusive, completely inappropriate — mental image in the soil of his imagination. Lane Lane might be a ridiculous name for a son... but Lane Kent suddenly sounded like the best combination in the world.

Shaking his head and forcing himself back to reality, Clark hurried to catch up with Lois Lane and Perry White, hoping he'd have as much luck on his first day of work as he'd been having so far.





Final note: Nobody asked, BUT I've already started writing part 3 because I'm having so much fun with their dynamic XD Feel free to leave your opinions, it would make me very happy <3

Next part: Part 3