He paused long enough to take in a breath. "Then how about we wash your hair before I cook our supper?"
Despite feeling as if her hair was caked to her scalp, Lois hesitated. On Clark's face, she could see his hope. More than that, she recognised the hope - it was exactly what she had felt in the cell when she'd been trying to convince him that washing his hair was a great idea.
Was his reasoning now similar to hers then?
Was Clark trying to use touch to help her recover - not from years of abuse, but from Moyne attempting to dehumanise her with sexual assault?
Somewhere deep inside her, a nascent smile birthed at the idea of Clark copying her strategy. "Did Scardino come back?" she asked.
Clark didn't seem thrown by her diversion. "Yes," he replied.
"What happened?"
"I told him that you'd changed your mind about going to Metropolis."
"Did he find any more of the poison?"
"I didn't ask."
"You didn't -" Lois stopped her outburst as comprehension filtered through a brain that still wasn't firing on all cylinders. Clark hadn't even asked about the poison. She knew why - because in his mind, her staying or leaving him was more important. She pulled the band from her limp hair. "Let's do this," she said.
Thanks,
Corrina.
