Oh, boy... Band-aid, she reminded herself. Rip it off quickly. “Why me, Clark?” she blurted out. “Why did you pick on me to obsess...to search for, when you’d never even met me? I thought maybe you’d seen my picture in the Planet, but then I realised I’ve only appeared a couple of times. So unless you read the entire archive, it’s not likely you’d have found me. So why? What’s so special about me?”
His shoulders sagged and he bowed his head to pinch the bridge of his nose wearily between thumb and forefinger. Immediately, she wanted to hug him and apologise for adding to his distress, but then, to her surprise, he straightened up and smiled tightly at her. “Everything about you is special, Lois.”
She gulped, not sure how to deal with such glowing flattery. “Th...thank you. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“No,” he replied. “The thing is, you probably won’t believe me when I tell you why.”
“Try me,” she said immediately. “Everyone’s already warned me it might be a little difficult to believe, so I’m ready to keep an open mind.”
“Everyone?”
She bit her lip. “Perry and Alice...George. I needed to know, Clark,” she defended herself. “Part of what scared me was not knowing why you’d picked me, so I asked anyone who might have a clue. They refused to say, said it was your story to tell.”
“Oh.”
“Actually, George said to keep in mind that you’re not crazy, so I’m pretty much prepared for anything,” she added.
He rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks, George,” he said. “Okay, then I guess I’m backed into a corner here. He’s right, of course – it is a crazy story, but it’s all true...”
**************
Lois bent over the bathroom sink and waited for her head to stop spinning.
Alternate universes. Time travel. Another Lois. Another Clark. Lana.
Around and around they went in her head, tumbling over each other, making no sense, just disjointed words and phrases, tumbling and jumbling together...
She ran the cold tap and splashed some more water on her face. Yep, that was real. Real water, real stinging coldness as the water hit her hot cheeks. Real taps, real sink.
Real towel, dabbing her face.
A soft knock on the door. “Are you okay, Lois?”
She’d been in here too long. Time to exit and face...what? Reality?
She opened the door on his anxious face. “I’m fine,” she announced as her knees gave way under her and he caught her in his arms. Then he was scooping her up off the floor and she was clinging to his solid shoulders as he carried her into her bedroom and lowered her onto her bed.
He stepped back and, embarrassed by her weakness, she quickly pushed herself up to sit leaning against the headboard. Made sure her nightie and dressing gown were appropriately arranged for maximum decorum.
“Shall I call someone?” he asked, looking worriedly down at her. “Carolyn, perhaps, or Frank-“
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I’m just not used to staying up so late, I guess.”
“I should go,” he said immediately. “I should never have stayed-“
“Don’t go,” she said. “We need to finish this.”
“But you nearly fainted-“
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I won’t sleep anyway until we’ve talked this out.”
“Well...maybe you should at least get under the covers,” he suggested.
She smiled. “Yes, mother.” Snuggling up under her blankets suddenly seemed like a very attractive prospect, though, so she did as he suggested.
Once she was settled and actually feeling very snug and comfortable, he perched on the side of her bed, his arms sliding around himself in a familiar gesture. He could do with a bed himself, she reflected.
“So...you haven’t asked me anything about what I told you,” he observed. “Do you believe it?”
She shrugged. “Well, I have to, don’t I?” she replied. “Unless I think that you, Perry, Alice and George are all in some vast conspiracy against me – and even I’m not that paranoid – then it has to be true. Incredible, but true.”
“And...?”
She drew her knees up under the bedclothes and hugged them. He’d explained how he’d met and worked with this other Lois a couple of times. How he’d come to realise, through her, just how much was missing in his life. He’d become Superman because of her, split up with Lana, indirectly because of her.
This woman must be some force to be reckoned with.
“This other me,” she said. “What was she like?”
He nodded as if he’d been expecting that question. “Well, physically, she was a lot like you. Same build, same skin tone, same colour hair - although hers was shorter than yours- same features. Personality-wise, it’s harder to compare. I mean, she was pretty headstrong, knew her own mind, generally got what she wanted one way or another. You...well, you haven’t really been in a position to be all those things. Although I’ve seen flashes,” he added with a smile.
Yes, sometimes she surprised herself. Like making George let her go home with Clark that day, or ensuring that Francine invited Clark to her therapy sessions.
But this other Lois sounded far more feisty than she could ever be. “She sounds like she was pretty smart, too,” she said.
“She was. It was great working with her.” He sighed. “But it was also hard, because she was really missing her husband. It felt like she wanted me to be him, and I couldn’t be.” He chuckled. “She even assumed I’d like all the same things as him – she produced this huge plate of sickly, sweet cakes and expected me to eat them all, I think. I can’t stand those things.”
Lois nodded, recognising very well his feelings. “I...I can’t be her, either,” she said timidly. “I’m not even that good at being me, yet.”
“Oh, Lois,” he exclaimed softly. “I don’t want you to be her. I want you to be you. That’s what’s been so wonderful about these past few months – being able to get to know you, find out what makes you so special.”
She bowed her head. “I don’t know why you think I’m so special.”
She felt him move, then his finger was under her chin, gently persuading her to lift her head up to face him. He was very close, his face mere inches away from hers. Deep brown, solemn eyes gazed at her. “Because you are. Remember the day you took me home and looked after me? That took a lot of selfless courage, Lois. I know how hard it must have been for you, yet you got me through one of the worst days I’ve had to face since I’ve been an addict. It would have been hell without you, believe me.”
“It was the least I could do after everything you’ve done for me,” she murmured, dropping her gaze from those intense brown eyes. It embarrassed her that he was so grateful for so little.
“I guess...we’re pretty good at helping each other,” he ventured.
She looked up again. “Yes.”
He was so close, he made her heart race. Not from fear, but from excitement...anticipation? Gravity seemed to be pulling them together, his head tipping slightly to one side. She could feel his breath on her lips...
And then he was gone.
“Wha...?” she said, blinking.
He was back at the end of the bed, gripping himself tightly around his chest and breathing heavily. “I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I shouldn’t have...it’s too soon...not fair on you.”
She drew in a couple of deep breaths herself. Waited for her heart to stop thumping quite so loudly in her chest.
“Actually,” she said after a few moments, “I was okay...I’d have quite liked...whatever we were about to do. This...this is worse.”
“Yeah?” His face creased with regret. “I’m sorry...I just thought...”
She sighed, her breathing back to normal again. Their relationship...back to normal again. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s time we both got some sleep anyway.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, although he didn’t immediately move from his perch on the side of her bed. In fact, as she studied his huddled posture and noticed the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, she realised he must still be feeling pretty lousy.
“Are you going to stay here at the clinic tonight?” she asked. “What’s left of it, anyway.”
He nodded jerkily. “I’ve got an appointment with George tomorrow at ten thirty anyway.”
“And have the medical staff seen you?”
“Frank looked in a couple of times earlier,” he said. “Not that he can do much other than make sure I’m not about to drop dead.” He smiled grimly.
“How about work?” she pressed on. “Do they know you’ll be late tomorrow?”
He grimaced. “Not yet. I’m not looking forward to that phone call.”
His editor. The one who lacked sympathy for his employee’s illness. “Things aren’t any better at work, then?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I’m tolerated. And I’m a good marketing asset.”
She baulked. “I’m sure you’re much more than that to them. I’ve seen some of your work – it’s good.”
If a little woolly at times, and he didn’t always go for the jugular like she would have, but he didn’t need to know that right now. And she’d meant what she’d said. He was definitely in the top bracket of journalists. Probably somewhere near the bottom of the league, she conceded, but still in the first division.
“Thanks.”
And talking of not going to for the jugular...“You know, I don’t understand why you haven’t gone after these people with the red kryptonite. Why not chase them instead of letting them chase you?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think there was much of a trail to follow, I guess.”
“There’s always a trail,” she admonished. “You just haven’t looked hard enough.”
“Maybe,” he said, playing idly with a snagged thread in the coverlet.
He was understandably listless, but the more she thought about it, the more she could see that this was an investigation worth pursuing. “I think,” she announced, “that you and I should do this. I could use the practice and you need to get these people off your back.”
He looked up. “You’d work with me?”
Ah, ha. Definite signs of interests. “Yes.” She’d show him that she was every bit as good to work with as that other Lois. “We’ll meet tomorrow at breakfast and discuss tactics, okay?” And this would be her way of helping him. She’d fix the mess she’d made of everything.
“Okay.” He unbent from his huddle and stood up. “Sleep well, Lois. I’m sorry this turned into such a late night for you.”
She shrugged. “No problem. Just...next time, or any time you’re feeling bad, just come over for a chat. Tea and biscuits. I can listen, even if I can’t do much to help.”
“You’ve helped a lot – more than you could imagine,” he replied, moving to the door. “’Night.”
“Um...don’t I get a goodnight kiss?” she asked shyly.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then smiled. “Sure.” He came back to the bed and leant down, clearly intending to drop a chaste kiss on her forehead.
In a sudden surge of boldness, she tipped her face up to him, offering her lips to his.
He hesitated, his breath fanning her face again. “Are you sure?” he whispered.
She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him to her, felt him move willingly with her, and then at last his lips were pressing against hers, ever so gently, ever so softly. She tasted him; he tasted sweet and warm and meltingly tender. She pressed a little more boldly; so did he. More of their lips came into contact, more of his gentle sweetness opened up to her, tinged with just a hint of gentle passion. Nothing threatening, nothing she couldn’t handle. Just enough to make her heart soar with new emotions, new feelings that she couldn’t name but made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
All too soon, his lips were lifting away from hers. She strained towards him, not ready to break the moment. He pressed his lips against hers once more and then slowly drew away from her and straightened up.
He looked as dazed as she felt. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured.
She reached for his hand. “Sleep well.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll try.”
And then he was gone.
After a moment of dazed stupefaction, she lifted her hand slowly and grazed her knuckles over her lips, revisiting the areas he’d touched so softly with his own lips. Then she pressed her fingertips lightly to her lips, remembering...reliving...his kiss.
She’d been kissed before, of course. Casual kisses. Lovers kisses. But none had come close to Clark’s kiss. That, she realised, had been a proper kiss. A kiss that meant something.
She slid down under the bedclothes and curled up on her side. After such a busy and eventful night, she’d expected sleep to be elusive, or at the very least, broken and disturbed. Now, though, she felt cosy, content, and totally at peace with herself. Sleep welcomed her like a warm blanket.
*****************
