From part 3 ...
Lois looked more than a little relieved. "Oh, well ... you'd better get to that, then," she said, practically pushing him away from her desk. "I've got a lot to catch up on, too. You know me ... busy, busy!"
Clark gave her a little smile, but as he walked back to his desk to gather his papers, he couldn't help but furrow his brow in confusion. By all accounts, he knew he should be delighted by this turn of events -- he'd been so worried Lois was going to rip him apart for kissing her last night, but instead, she claimed not to even remember it. He was off the hook! He should be happy ... really, really happy ...
So why in the world was he feeling so disappointed?
*****
and now, part 4, the conclusion ...
*****
Returning home that evening, Lois shut the door behind her and methodically fastened each of the four locks. With a yawn, she dropped her bag onto the floor and tossed her keys on the coffee table, then sunk gratefully into her couch. Home at last.
It had taken most of the day, but she had finally recovered from her hangover, even if she was still tired from the lack of sleep. But even if she was feeling better physically, emotionally she was far from over the events of the previous night. She was positively mortified by her behavior, and the more she remembered, the more embarrassed she became.
Fortunately, Clark hadn't mentioned anything specific about the night before, not even the email she'd sent him, which was something she was very grateful about. Of course, she hadn't given him the chance ... when he'd seemed uncomfortable broaching the subject of what had happened when he'd tried to leave her apartment, she'd seen her opening and had pounced on it. Telling Clark that she had no memory of anything after their peanut butter and jelly sandwich had been a stroke of pure genius, if she did say so herself. She'd suspected Clark would be too much of a gentleman to fill in the supposedly missing details, especially since those details included their kiss, and she'd been right.
As her memory suddenly flashed to the kiss in question, however, Lois felt her heart rate pick up and she took a ragged breath. It really had been an amazing kiss ... urgent, intense, insistent. Lois closed her eyes and her breath became more shallow. She could almost feel his lips on hers, tasting, probing ... and her skin still tingled where he had touched her ... his body pressed so tightly against hers ... molding itself to her body as if they were--
Gasping, Lois's eyes flew open. This wasn't helping! Reliving that kiss over and over could cause nothing but problems, and she had to stop thinking about it. Clark was her friend ... he'd probably only kissed her because she'd been throwing herself at him all night. It probably hadn't meant anything to him at all ...
Still trying to convince herself, Lois noticed the blinking light of her answering machine. Reaching over to her end table, she pressed the button and heard the computerized voice inform her that she had one new message. A second later, her sister's voice filled the apartment.
"Hey, Lois, it's Lucy. I was just calling to see how you're doing after last night. Call me as soon as you get home! I'm dying to know what happened after you left!"
Lucy's voice sounded perky, and she was far too cheerful for Lois's liking. After all, this was all Lucy's fault. It had been *her* birthday, *her* party, and *her* boyfriend who'd made the drinks. And, now that Lois thought about it, she was pretty sure it had been Lucy who had encouraged her to call Clark in the first place!
Lois yanked the phone from its cradle and roughly punched the buttons to dial Lucy's number. After only a ring and half, Lucy picked up.
"Hello?"
"I hate you! How could you let me do this to myself?"
Lucy burst out laughing, obviously not at all impressed by her sister's hatred. "Having a rough day, Lois?"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it."
"Let me guess ... headache, nausea, achiness?"
"Try embarrassment, humiliation, mortification."
"Lois, really. Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic? I mean, you were pretty crazy last night, but I've done far worse, I assure you."
"Yeah, but you didn't call your partner and invite him to witness the debacle!"
"Oh!" Lucy laughed in delight. "So that's what this is really about!"
Lois groaned. "What were you thinking, Luce? How could you let me call him?"
"Let you? Let you?! I tried to stop you and you yanked the phone out of my hand. You told me you'd break my fingers if I didn't give it back!"
"I did what?? I don't remember that."
"Shocking," her sister deadpanned. "How much *do* you remember?"
Lois flushed, immediately taken back to the parting kiss she'd shared with Clark. She didn't seem to have any problem recalling *that* in vivid detail. But she couldn't deny there was some fuzziness around other parts of the night ...
"Lois?"
"I remember plenty!"
Lucy laughed again, obviously enjoying this far too much. "Good, then I want all the details of what happened after you left the bar."
Lois was sure her face was bright red. "There's nothing to tell. Clark brought me home, made sure I was okay, and went back to his place. Alone."
"That's it?" Lucy asked, clearly disappointed.
"That's it," Lois repeated, trying not to feel guilty for hiding the details. "What did you think was going to happen?"
She could almost hear her sister's grin over the phone line. "Gee, Lois, I don't know ... do the words 'Hooray! Clark's coming home with me!' ring any bells?"
Lois's jaw dropped. "I didn't say that!"
"Oh, yes, you did!" her sister laughed. "And calling Clark was all your idea. You'd been talking about him all night and suddenly decided that you had to have him there right away."
Lois sputtered, unable to think of a response. She was tempted to deny everything, but Lucy was nearly as stubborn as she was when she believed she was right, and since Lucy had been far more sober than Lois last night, she had the upper hand.
Lucy, however, seemed oblivious to Lois's inner turmoil as she bubbled on. "It was really funny, actually. You kept coming out with these outrageous statements as if they were totally normal. And you've clearly been holding out on me! Why didn't you tell me before that Clark had kissed you? Multiple times, no less! And why do I have to get you drunk to find out that you saw Clark in nothing but a towel?"
Lois gasped. "How do you know about Clark in the towel??"
"You told me!" Her sister chuckled. "Actually, you described it in great detail ... painted a fantastic picture, by the way ... you even made Jerry blush."
Lois covered her face with her hand. "Oh, God."
"So tell me about all these kisses," Lucy pressed, clearly enjoying this. "You said you'd been kissing him almost since you met ... why haven't I heard about this before?"
"It was nothing," Lois protested weakly. "Those kisses were just ... subterfuge. We were working."
"Really?" her sister said with a laugh. "Well, last night you weren't working, and there was enough steam to fill up the bar! I've never seen you like that. You were all over him!"
Lois blushed furiously. If that was how Lucy remembered the night, what in the world must Clark think? "That wasn't me," she defended. "That was the alcohol. You never should have let me drink that much. You knew what was in those tea thingies and you let me drink them knowing I thought they were weak!"
"Oh, Lois, you had fun and you know it. Now you're just embarrassed because you finally have to face your feelings for Clark."
"Those weren't *my* feelings! That was just the alcohol talking!"
"From what I could see, there wasn't much talking goin' on," Lucy snorted.
"Lucy!"
With a low chuckle, Lucy continued. "Look, Sis, I have a lot more experience at being wasted than you do, so let me tell you a little something I've learned along the way. Alcohol doesn't make you do anything you didn't already want to do. It lowers your inhibitions and blurs your judgment, but it doesn't change who you are or what you want. You wanted Clark, you wanted him bad, and you wanted him long before last night. Last night was just the first time you let your guard down long enough to tell him that."
Lois opened her mouth to reply but, for one of the few times in her life, she found herself speechless. She wanted to deny it -- and indeed, in the broader scope of things, she *would* argue against some of what her sister was saying -- but she couldn't deny the truth in her sister's evaluation of her feelings for Clark. In every memory she had of their time at the bar, the heat generated between them was obvious ... and later that night, when she'd been alone with Clark, the heat had only intensified. Her mind may have been clouded by alcohol, but her body had known exactly what it had wanted.
Lucy took her silence for disagreement, however, and continued, almost exasperated. "God, Lois, how do you not see this? Everyone else who sees you two together knows that you're perfect for each other. Why don't you just admit it -- Clark makes you happy! And I don't just mean when you're drunk, either."
"I know," Lois sighed, unable to deny it anymore.
"What?" Lucy sounded shocked, as if she hadn't expected her sister to agree, even if the truth was obvious to everyone else. "You know?"
"I know," Lois repeated. "Clark makes me happy. He always has. I ... I care about him."
"Just care about him?" Lucy prompted.
"I ... I don't know, Lucy! This is all so-- I'm just so--"
"In love?"
"No! Well, maybe," she added sheepishly. "I don't know, Lucy! But it doesn't matter. Even if I was, he doesn't feel the same way about me."
Lucy gasped. "Are you insane?? That boy is head over heels for you! If you would just give him the slightest indication that you feel the same way, I'm sure he'd be thrilled."
Lois shook her head. "No ... he's not interested."
"He seemed pretty damn interested last night!"
"No, Lucy, really," Lois insisted. "Last year, when we got sprayed with that pheromone spray, he wasn't affected like I was. And this past spring, he told me he loved me but then he took it back ... he said he just wanted us to be friends. And, OK, he did seem to respond last night, but how could he not when I was throwing myself at him? I mean, even when he left my apartment, he--" Lois cut off suddenly, her eyes growing wide. "He ... he ... Ohmigod!"
"What? Lois, what is it?"
Lois gasped as the last piece of the puzzle finally slipped into place. "I just remembered something. Clark ... last night ... as he was leaving, he said ... he said ..."
"What?? What did he say??"
But Lois was already lunging for her car keys. "Sorry, Lucy, I gotta go! I gotta find Clark!"
"LOIS!! Wait! You can't just leave without tell--" <Click>
*****
Clark sighed as he walked through his apartment door, pausing only to deposit his file folders in the middle of the coffee table before making his way into the bedroom. It had been a long, hectic day, and he couldn't help but yawn as he pulled off his suit jacket and slipped his loosened necktie out from under his collar. Tossing them each onto the bed, he walked back into the kitchen, unfastening the top button of his shirt and rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves to get more comfortable. He still had some work to do tonight on the story, but at the moment, he didn't even have enough energy to change into sweats.
By any reasonable standards, he knew he should have been energized by everything he had accomplished that day. His story on the Congressman was coming together very nicely, and he'd spent the entire day gathering information, interrupted only by the occasional Superman rescue. He was positive that Perry was going to be beyond delighted with what he'd come up with. Yet instead of being able to immerse himself in the excitement of chasing down elusive leads, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about his partner.
He knew he should be relieved that Lois wasn't upset with him for kissing her last night. He'd been worried all morning that she was gearing up to skin him alive for taking advantage of her, but as it turned out, she claimed not even to remember it. Clark made a sound of disgust. No wonder Lois didn't have any interest in him outside of friendship. The single most amazing kiss he'd ever experienced in his life, and it hadn't even made an impression on her!
Grumbling over the entire situation, Clark thought back to how happy Lois had been last night when she'd been drinking. He'd never thought of himself as the type of guy who would want to drown his sorrows, but right now, he wished he could get drunk, too. Maybe it would give him something to do besides grind his teeth in frustration over his inability to attract the only woman he'd ever truly fallen for.
But, of course, just like having Lois return his feelings, intoxication was only a fantasy. He was pretty sure that even if he were to consume an entire bottle of liquor, he would never be able to get drunk. His body just didn't seem to work that way, at least not while his powers were intact. And he wasn't about to expose himself to Kryptonite just to find out whether his ability to process alcohol as if it were water was part of his natural physiology. Still, a glass of wine did sound good to him right now. Even if he wasn't affected by the alcohol, he could still enjoy the taste. And maybe nursing a glass while he organized his story notes would help him to relax, hopefully soothing the restless feeling that had been plaguing him all day.
Walking over to his wine rack, Clark considered his choices, finally selecting a bottle of white wine. He'd found this particular bottle up last month at his favorite wine shop and he had been looking forward to opening it for the last few weeks. Of course, he'd also hoped he could open it with Lois, sharing it with her over a candlelight dinner and impressing her with his vast expertise on the subject.... Clark snorted derisively. Yeah, right ... like *that* was ever going to happen.
Holding the bottle out in front of him, Clark blew on it gently, intending to chill it slightly. Red wines were best served warm, but he always liked a little chill on his whites. It seemed to bring out the best flavor. As he did so, however, he couldn't help but think about Lois once again.
God, she was sexy last night ... the way she'd been nuzzling against his skin, running her fingers through his hair, and blowing enticingly in his ear. Forget romantic daydreams of impressing her with his wine collection; her behavior last night was straight out of some of his other, much more primal fantasies. She'd been dressed to kill in that short black skirt and tight red shirt, but even more seductive was the way she'd constantly been touching him, molding herself to his body and exploring it with her hands. And, as if dancing with her hadn't been enough -- watching her rotate her hips in the most erotic way as she continuously brushed against him -- to then have her kiss her way up his neck, then tease that highly sensitive area around his ear with the tip of her tongue ...
His eyes glazing over at the memory, Clark completely lost track of the fact that he had intended to only put a light chill on the wine bottle and that the liquid inside was beginning to freeze and expand upwards. With a loud pop, the cork suddenly shot out, jerking Clark from his fantasy.
He yelped loudly as he noticed that wine had began to spill out of the top of the bottle and, on instinct, he put his mouth over the opening, gulping down the liquid before any more of it splashed on his floor. By the time he recovered his senses, he realized he'd consumed almost the entire bottle, save for the iced bottom layer.
Clark groaned as he stared at the mostly empty bottle and the puddle of wine at his feet. How in the world could he have let that happen? What a rookie mistake, to lose control of his powers so easily! He sighed heavily. Just more proof of what Lois could do to him.
Shaking his head at his ineptitude, Clark retrieved a dishtowel to mop up the mess, only to discover that his shirt, too, was now dotted with drops from the spray. "Great! What else can go wrong tonight?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Tossing the wet towel into the sink, he stalked back to his wine rack for another bottle to open -- red this time, one that *wouldn't* need to be chilled -- and this time, he got it into the glass.
Bringing the nearly full bottle with him into the living room, Clark set it and his wine glass down on the coffee table before flopping himself onto the couch. He stared at his story notes for a long moment, trying to convince himself to start typing them up, but he knew it was a losing battle. There was only one thing on his mind tonight, and the only thing it had to do with typing was the astonishing -- yet totally sexy -- email Lois had sent him last night. Ha! Yet another thing she apparently didn't remember.
Clark picked up his wine glass and sank further into the couch, brooding. After a day and a half with next to no sleep, he was feeling reckless and restless, yet he didn't even feel like flying. It, like everything else in his life, would only remind him of Lois ... and the fact that she wasn't here with him. It was beyond frustrating! He loved her so much, but his constant thinking about her only served to remind him of what he couldn't have. And the fact that she didn't even remember their kiss, or the feelings she'd professed to have in her email, only frustrated him more.
He was convenient for her, Clark decided as he drained his glass and poured another. He was safe ... someone she could play with when she wanted some affection, but once the moment was over, she could just conveniently forget about it, pretend it had never happened. Yet his own feelings of desire only continued to build ... and he didn't even have the courage to tell her how he really felt.
*****
Lois fidgeted as she stood outside Clark's door, trying to get up the courage to knock. She knew he was home -- she had just peeked through the glass window on the side of his door and had seen him sitting on the couch, staring off into space -- which only made the temptation to bolt even stronger.
What in the world was she going to say to him? When she'd left her apartment a few minutes before, the memory of their kiss last night had made it hard to stick to the posted speed limits, but now that she was here, her more rational side was starting to make itself known.
Talking to Lucy had made her confront the fact that she did have feelings for Clark -- very strong feelings, both emotional and physical -- but until a short time ago, she would have sworn that he didn't feel the same way. Oh sure, she'd often seen a certain look in his eye when he'd watched her, a look that conveyed a wonderful mixture of affection and desire, yet until tonight, she'd been able to rationalize it away. Clark couldn't be attracted to her ... he was her partner and best friend, and he always seemed to be in complete control of his emotions.
Yet last night, as he'd left her apartment, she'd seen that control disappear. Clearly unable to take another moment of her teasing, he'd pinned her to the wall and captured her mouth in what could only be described as the most incredible kiss of her entire life. When she'd woken this morning and remembered it, she'd tried to rationalize it away as a manipulation -- she'd been blocking his path to the door and he'd only kissed her to placate her, to get her out of the way so he could leave. But now that she remembered the words surrounding the kiss, how Clark had confessed that he liked her -- he *really* liked her -- and his breathless reassurance that he would be more than willing to continue once she was sober, she knew that it was more than just a kiss to him. She couldn't deny it any more.
But instead of letting him know that she, too, was interested in being more than friends, what had she done? She'd lied to him about what she remembered, just to save herself from embarrassment. Essentially denied that the kiss, or even the email that she'd later sent him, had been anything more than a drunken game to her.
No, it was time to come clean, to admit that she did remember what she'd done last night, and while it was true that she hadn't exactly been in control of her actions, she hadn't done anything more than what she'd been wanting to do for months now. And maybe, just maybe, Clark could be convinced to finally admit his feelings for her, as well.
Before she could lose her courage, Lois lifted her hand and knocked sharply on the door.
Straining to hear sounds inside the apartment, Lois bit her lip as she waited for Clark to respond, finally sighing in relief as she heard his footsteps approach. She pasted a nervous smile on her face as the door swung open.
"Hi, Clark," she said sheepishly. "Um ... can I come in?"
To her surprise, Clark just gave a short, humorless laugh. Shaking his head almost ruefully, he gestured broadly with his arm, sweeping it towards the open apartment. "Like I could say no."
Furrowing her brow slightly at his odd response, Lois nevertheless accepted his invitation and followed him down the landing into the apartment, shutting the door behind her. "I hope I'm not, uh, interrupting anything," she said, knowing full well she was stalling.
Clark stood next to his coffee table, watching her. "Nothing that I can't continue later," he responded. "I'm good at that, you know ... dropping everything for you."
Lois felt her eyes widen at his response. His tone wasn't harsh, but the words had a bite to them that she wasn't used to hearing from him. Still, he didn't seem angry ... more like, self-deprecating? "Clark, are you OK?" she asked in concern, taking a few steps towards him. As she got closer, however, she found herself blinking in surprise as she caught a definite whiff of alcohol. Glancing around the apartment, she noticed the partially full wine bottle on his coffee table and what looked to be an empty one lying on its side on his kitchen table. She looked at him in amazement. "Have you been drinking?"
Clark picked up his nearly empty wine glass and downed the last of it. He motioned to her with the empty glass. "Yes, I have," he said resolutely, "and I'd offer you a glass, but I have a feeling it's the last thing you need after last night."
Lois cringed slightly at his offer and let one hand cup her stomach in response. "No, thank you ... you're right, it's the last thing I want."
That earned her a slight smile and she thought she saw him relax a bit. "Yeah, I thought so. Do you mind if I ...?" He nodded towards the bottle.
Growing more amazed by the second, she could only gesture helplessly. "Go ahead." She watched as he poured himself another glass, then stared, astounded, as he recklessly gulped it down. "Clark," she asked carefully. "Are you drunk?"
"I wish," he muttered, setting the glass back on his table. "I keep trying, but sure enough, no dice."
"Why are you trying?"
He just shook his head and began pacing, clearly restless and agitated. "Because it's been a long, *frustrating* day," he answered, throwing his hands up in the air.
Lois swallowed as she watched him, stalking around like a caged tiger. His hair was mussed, his shirt was rumpled, his body language was unlike anything she'd ever seen from him ... yet she felt almost breathless from the attraction she felt. "And why ... are you frustrated?" she forced herself to ask.
Clark stopped pacing, looking almost accusatory as he stood in front of her. "I'm frustrated because even with my story coming together so well, I can't stop thinking about you," he burst out.
Lois's eyes widened. "You can't?"
His eyes blazed and his breathing became accelerated as he worked himself up. "And I'm frustrated because I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night because I kept reliving everything that happened between us!"
She swallowed convulsively. "You couldn't?"
"And ... And ... I'm frustrated because I had the most amazing kiss of my entire life last night, and you don't even remember it!"
Lois gasped.
"And for once, just *once*," he went on, his voice continuing to rise. "I wish *I* could get drunk enough to summon the courage to tell you how I really feel!"
Lois's breath caught in her throat, and she tried to stop her heart from pounding. She took a step towards him, until they were almost touching. "How *do* you really feel?" she asked breathlessly, looking up into his eyes.
Clark stared at her for a long moment, his chest rising and falling quickly after his declaration. "Like this," he finally replied as he cupped her face in his hands and possessively lowered his mouth to hers.
It only took a moment for the shock to wear off, but Lois didn't waste any time once it had. Winding her arms up between them, she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him even more closely to her. As their lips met again and again, Lois felt a thrill like she'd never experienced before travel through her and, as she heard Clark moan low in his throat, she couldn't help but whimper from the pleasure of it all. The kiss was just as passionate as she remembered it being last night, but this time, now that she was sober enough to fully participate, she was enjoying it even more.
When they finally pulled apart, Lois felt herself breathing erratically, and from the way Clark's chest was heaving against hers, she knew the same was true of him. "Oh, God, Clark," she gasped, resting her forehead against his as she clung to him. "I wish you weren't drunk."
"Why?" he asked, just as breathless.
"Because ... Because I came here to tell you that I remember what you said last night, and that I do still want you. But you were so good to me when I'd been drinking ... I can't take advantage of you now."
With another moan, Clark captured her mouth again, his lips teasing her until she felt her knees go weak. "Lois?" he whispered huskily as he finally pulled back.
"Yes?"
"Take advantage of me."
As their mouths met once more, Lois knew that there was still a lot to say ... confessions to make, declarations of their feelings. But she also knew that these conversations would best be held while they were sober. And right now, she was much too intoxicated by his kisses to talk.
*****
The End.
Comments welcome and appreciated!
Annie and Kathy
