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"Nice driving." He reached down to retrieve her purse from the floorboard.

"I got the space, didn't I?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, Lois. You win again."

"The meek may inherit the Earth, Clark, but they do *not* get parking spaces in this part of town."

He handed her the purse. "I'll keep it in mind."

Lois laughed at him. "You're a farm boy! You're not supposed to get grossed out by the miracle of life."

"It's a *wheat* farm, Lois. There are no bodily fluids involved in growing wheat. And I'm only grossed out by the miracle of life when it happens directly on top of my clothing."

"Aunt Opal, I'm here!" Clark called as he entered the hall of the townhouse. The walk from the Planet had been nice, if necessarily quiet; they had conversed only briefly, when no one had been close enough to think that Clark was talking to himself. He still wasn't quite sure what impulse had prompted him to invite Lois along to dinner; she would inevitably be relegated to invisible third-wheel status, which couldn't be much fun for her. He'd just hated the idea of her stuck in an empty apartment all evening ... besides, when she was around, he knew for certain that he wasn't crazy.

"I'm in the kitchen," Aunt Opal replied. "How was your day?"

Feeling awkward, Clark turned to where he estimated Lois to be, and gestured gallantly towards the kitchen.

"Relax, Clark," she told him with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You don't need to open doors for me; I can manage perfectly well. Anyway, you don't want to look like Jimmy Stewart in 'Harvey;' he was committed."

Clark grinned at the mention of the classic movie. "You're hardly a six-foot tall invisible rabbit."

"Or so you assume," she pointed out, laughing. "I'm just saying, don't make yourself look crazy on my account -- I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "but I just couldn't let this
go on any longer. It isn't real, Lois... and I don't think
I can pretend any differently."

If anything, the confusion in her eyes tripled. "Not
real... It felt pretty real to me, Clark," she teased
half-heartedly, trying to break the sudden tension between
them, but there was a look of desperation in her eyes.

He sighed and closed his eyes. This wasn't supposed to
hurt!

"You're a dream, Lois!" he blurted out at last. "You
aren't real!"

She stared at him in utter and total shock, and then, to
his own surprise, she disappeared entirely.

His eyes traced the smooth, swan's curve of her throat and the way that the
small, fragile latticework of the earrings she wore cast reflections of light
against her skin from where they dangled and glittered against her neck. How
strands of dark, gleaming hair escaped her sleek, shoulder-length bob to brush
against her skin. He imagined his fingers trailing that same path, running
their tips softly along the pulse line he could see beating steadily just
below the cradle of her jaw. Considered what it would feel like to brush the
back of one hand to follow the line up onto her cheek and explore its gentle
curves and sharp angles before he slipped his fingers into the dark mass
framing her face. And her eyes...those dark, glorious, peat-colored eyes...

...which were studying him curiously.

"What?" Lois demanded. She darted a frantic look into the mirror, sure she
must have missed something horrendous given the intent study he was making of
her face and came back to him, with a frown, when she found nothing obvious.
"What?!"

"Uh, nothing."

She could conjure up every expression that had ever been in that deep, sensitive, chocolate brown gaze. How they warmed to the color of mocha when he smiled at her. Deepened to glow with amber and mahogany when they shared a quiet moment, late in the newsroom, working on their notes or debating the course of their next story, excitement burning in them like fire, matching her own. In anger they were dark chips of obsidian, but that was an emotion rare to him as ice was in sunlight.

"I thought where that got us was pretty good,"[…]
Then she turned around. Her eyes flayed him, huge and dark from out of a pale face, and brimming with something dark and indefinable.
"Yeah, well... sometimes what you think is good is just...lies and trouble. And..." she drew in a rough breath, "...sometimes what you think you want isn't what you need. What's good isn't always good for *you*."

She didn't want to be alone.

The thought echoed, a pitiful whimper in her head.

/Okay, fine, Lois!/ her scornful self prodded at her after a moment's silence.
/So, you don't want to be alone. Great! So now what? You go running back to
Clark and beg him to forgive you? Lay yourself at his feet? Beg him to take
you back no matter what? Can you live with that? Is it a price enough to pay
for not being alone? Because he would take you back, you know he would. What
man wouldn't? His own personal little geisha who'll forgive him anything, so
long as he throws her the odd scrap or two of affection now and then. What man
could really pass on an offer like that?/

Lois snuffled, trying to block out that persistent harpy as it jabbed at her,
flaying her...and to her dismay she succeeded. Because the plain truth of it
was that, despite all logic, despite her own self-disgust at her weakness, she
missed Clark so badly - as partner, friend *and* lover - that it made her want
to scream and rail and weep herself into a blind fury of longing.

She watched, her heart wrenching as a single tear came trailingdown his cheek. The hope and desperation in his eyes were almost too much. Hot, wet tears slipped loose from her own eyes, causing her to see sparkles around him.

So there it is girl, I've said it all now
And here we are babe, what do you say?

They had stopped dancing. Clark was pulling her closer and she wasn't resisting. The world condensed down to just the two of them and the song, speaking to both of their hearts.

We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?
We've got tonight babe
Why don't you stay?

Lois grabbed him and hugged him close to her with all her strength. His hand came up to grasp her behind her head and he guided her lips to his. The passion between them could no longer be held back, and they sought each other's kiss with abandon.

I know it's late, I know you're weary
I know your plans don't include me
Still here we are, both of us lonely
Both of us lonely

Lois broke free from the kiss, her heart pounding in her ears, and her body shaking. "No...I can't. I--I have to go back."

We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?

"Lois, I lo--"

She put her hand over his lips, stopping him.

Let's make it last, lets find a way

"Shhhh.... Don't say anything, *please*," she pleaded.

And there he was. Staring back at her from the cover of the book. The dark eyes, that little curl of hair she suddenly so desired to brush back from his forehead, the sensational smile that shot straight to the heart. It was him, and it felt like he was looking right into the depths of her soul.

"Holy cow! A new 'Adventures In' book! 'Adventures In America,'" Jimmy read aloud.

Darline, the book critic for the paper, happened to be coming by at that time. "You have a copy of the new 'Adventures In America'?" She quickly made her way over to Lois' desk. "Oh my gosh! I don't believe it. I've been trying to get a hold of this for weeks now. The publishers kept telling me it hadn't gone to print yet. How in the world did you get this?"

Jimmy pointed to the box on the table. "It came in that box last Friday." He folded the flap with the return address back over so he could read it. "It's from a C. Kent."

"C. Kent? Clark Kent himself sent you," Darline pointed to Lois, "a copy of his new book?"

Lois, who had been spellbound by seeing Clark's face again, regained her composure at the sound of Darline's voice. "I...I guess so. We met last year."

"You've met Clark Kent?" Darline's voice kept getting higher and higher, not to mention louder.

"Cool!" Jimmy gave Lois a look of admiration.

Darline's voice had carried enough that a small knot of people had begun to build up around Lois' desk.

"Hey, open it up. Maybe he signed it," Jimmy suggested.

Lois quickly opened the book. After flipping past the first few pages she came to the dedication page.

For L.L.
Whenever I thought I couldn't do this anymore,
memories of our time together allowed me to go on.
Without you, this work would have remained locked
inside, hidden from the world. Your determination
and your faith in me gives it a life for all to
see and enjoy.

Directly below that in hand-written black ink was a note.


Lois,
Our memories are a precious thing, but our
friendship is priceless.

Missing you...
Yours,
Clark

"And Superman is really Clark Kent. I always knew they looked a little alike, but ... Oh my God! Does Lois know? I mean, she is married to him and everything! She must know, right? What if she doesn't know? Should we tell her?" He waved his hands in the air.

"Honestly, CK. I don't know how I'm going to be able to work with her," Jimmy complained. "She's driving me nuts. I ask her if she wants a coffee and she snarls at me. Then she gets me one, with a donut on the side. She brings me a pile of research that I didn't ask for and probably won't need but she said she got it special for me to make my job easier! Then when I don't use it, she's back to snarling at me! She's been doing this Jekyll and Hyde act since she got in this morning and I don't know how I'll be able to take it! I have no idea how she really feels about me."

Clark laughed. "Forget how she feels about you. How do you feel about her?"

"She's fascinating. She's got an incredible mind - and you know, that's not normally the first thing that catches my attention about a woman!" Jimmy grinned. "And she's kind of cute in a buttoned-down librarian kind of way! She makes me angry - but I like it!" Suddenly serious, he continued, "I really feel this strong connection between the two of us; it hit me like a ton of bricks the moment I saw her for the first time. I've never felt anything like it."

"Ooh, you've got it bad!" Clark teased. "How do you think I felt about Lois the first time I met her?" he asked.

"Oh no, I'm doomed!" Jimmy joked.

Any moment now, she'd find out what her partner considered appropriate clothing for an all-night stakeout. Would it be a bathrobe, loosely tied and showing half his chest, like the one Trevor had affected in that seedy motel near the airport, back when she'd been little more than a rookie? Or red silk boxers, like Arnie when they'd been investigating the hotel that had turned out to be little more than an upmarket bordello? A towel, like Jerry on the overnight ferry trip? Though at least Clark had the sort of body that looked good in just a towel, if her memory was correct...

Besides," she added, "I don't want him to propose to me."

"Neither do I," Clark said.

"He isn't likely to propose to *you*," Lois said. "You may be pretty, but I don't think he'd appreciate you the same way."

"I certainly *hope* not!" Clark said, shocked. He paused. "'Pretty'?"

"That's from my point of view, not Lex's," Lois said.

And am I very uncool for squealing when I realized my story had been quoted? Probably so

Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

"Smallville, Kansas, May 17, 1966," said Clark quietly.

"Pardon?" Lois didn't even bother looking up at the apparent non sequitur.

"I told you that, if you found the records, and if it became necessary for you to know where and when the ship landed, I would tell you."

That got her attention. Her head jerked up, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. "*What* did you say?"

"I said-"

"No. No, it's all right. I heard you the first time. I'm just... *You're* Superman? You?!"

Originally posted by Classicalla:

Quote

Edit: Hard? The author was nominated multiple times in the latest Kerth awards. This is one of her earlier stories.

It's probably because I'm sitting here reading this at 4 am, but which story is this talking about and which Kerth nominee? Thanks