This story was meant to be a little fun thing, to get my muse going again. The first part was posted back in March, for Wendy's birthday, and I intended to post the rest within a few days.
Sadly, the muse had other ideas and refused to write any more on it until a few weeks ago.
However, after much wailing, gnashing of teeth and staring at a blank screen, the story is finally finished. It turned out the muse wasn't so interested in silly fluff, and wanted to write introspection and angst, so in the end I had to give way. You have been warned.
I'm reposting part 1 to refresh memories, and to keep it all in one place, and because there have been a few minor changes.
My heartfelt thanks to my excellent BRs, Wendy and KathyB, for their eagle eyes, unflagging support and creative input. You guys are the best.
Table of Contents Comments ~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Fact or Ficus?
A birthday story
By Meredith Knight
~*~*~*~*~*~*~A single light was burning in Clark Kent's apartment. In the muted glow, in the middle of the living room, Lois Lane was standing gazing at the object she'd just discovered, her jaw slowly dropping.
After a long moment she sat down abruptly on the couch and swallowed hard. "I just can't believe it!" she muttered. Her voice rose steadily as her soliloquy continued. "How
could he? He always seemed so caring - so trustworthy! Yet he's been keeping
this hidden all along?" By this time she had risen to her feet again, a militant light in her eyes. "Boy, when I get hold of him, is he
ever gonna regret this...!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The day before...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was the first Monday of the new year, and Lois was at her desk bright and early. The season didn't explain the butterflies that were busy playing tag in her stomach, though. Those were entirely due to the fact that she would shortly be seeing Clark again, for the first time in over a week.
The last time she'd seen him had been in the early hours of Christmas morning. She'd been surprised but totally delighted when he'd arrived on her doorstep instead of catching his flight to Kansas, and they'd had a wonderful evening together. They'd eaten her Christmas dinner and played silly games and talked and laughed together, and it had been past one o'clock when Clark had finally bidden her a reluctant good night. In the morning he'd been gone, catching the earliest possible flight to Wichita to spend the rest of Christmas with his parents.
Looking back, the word that leapt to Lois's mind to describe that evening was... enchanted. She'd almost have said romantic, though not a word of romance had been spoken by either of them. Yet they'd seemed perfectly attuned to each other, perfectly in harmony... and more than once, Lois had caught herself wishing that the fleeting touches of affection they'd exchanged would become less fleeting, and more loving...
But she hadn't done anything about it except give Clark an occasional yearning look. And once or twice she'd caught what looked like a similar yearning on Clark's face, but it was difficult to be sure - he'd always been laughing or teasing her or cracking another ridiculous joke the next second.
When he'd finally taken his leave, his eyes had flickered briefly to her mouth, and for a dizzying second she'd thought he might kiss her. But if the idea had crossed his mind, he'd evidently thought better of it, because with no more than a friendly clasp of her shoulder and a soft "Merry Christmas", he'd turned and walked away down the hall.
Unfortunately for Lois, she'd been able to think of little else all night. In that brief second she'd realised how badly she wanted him to kiss her. She'd nearly called after him, but as usual, her nerve had failed her. She'd only ever mustered the courage once to tell Clark how she felt about him, and he'd slept through it... doing it again seemed twice as scary. And what if she was only imagining Clark's attraction towards her - projecting her own feelings onto him? She'd never recover from the embarrassment, and it might ruin their friendship for ever.
But her feelings weren't going away. If anything, they'd strengthened in the ensuing week, as she realised how badly she missed him. First Clark had spent a few days with his parents, then on the day he'd returned, Lois had left to spend New Year with Lucy and her current boyfriend in the mountains. She'd spoken to Clark a few times on the phone, but it wasn't the same. And three days with Lucy's social crowd, trapped between fending off the advances of wannabe playboys and listening to vacuous chatter about clothes, soap opera stars, makeup and pop music, had left her desperate for an hour of Clark's intelligent, unassuming company. It had been an enormous relief for Lois, at least, when Lucy and her boyfriend had had a fight, apparently over some guy she'd met at a club, and Lucy had announced that they were going home early.
Lois had phoned Clark as soon as she'd got home, hoping to spend some time with him on her last free day, but he hadn't answered. She shouldn't have been surprised that he had better things to do than sit at home waiting for her to call; still, the crushing disappointment she'd felt warned her just how badly she was smitten with her partner.
She'd spent her day off alternating between catching up on her housework and chasing Superman - who seemed to have had a frantically busy festive season - all over town, trying to get an interview in between traffic accidents and rescues.
And now she was back at work, dressed to look attractive as well as professional for once, sipping her second cup of coffee as she caught up on her email and waiting nervously for Clark to arrive. Every time the elevator bell pinged she looked up, her heart in her throat, but every time it was some other colleague.
She was at the coffee machine, pouring herself a third cup, when a sixth sense told her that Clark was in the newsroom. She swung round towards the elevators, but the doors were closed; then a movement over by the stairwell caught her eye. Of course - trust Clark to use the stairs when every sensible person took the elevator up the three floors from the entrance!
Clark didn't seem to have noticed her; he was making his way towards his desk, grinning cheerfully and greeting everyone in his path. Lois watched him for a moment, her heart doing a crazy little dance at the sight of him. Her face felt odd, and she suddenly realised that she was smiling broadly at the familiar, beloved sight of her partner. She turned hastily back to her coffee, hoping no one had noticed, and added low-cal creamer and sweetener while she struggled to get her facial muscles back under control. Then she grabbed a second mug from the collection next to the machine, and poured a second cup with dairy cream and masses of sugar before making her way back to her desk.
Clark seemed absorbed in his computer screen as she approached, but he looked up with a smile as she placed his coffee next to him. "Hi - and thanks!"
She gazed at him for a moment, fighting to keep her own smile casual as she drank in his nearness, his handsome face and the faint tang of his aftershave. She wanted to run her hand through his soft hair and bend to kiss him good morning... She blinked the thought away. "Hi," she returned weakly, and then, belatedly remembering, "Happy New Year!"
His smile broadened and he leant back in his chair, picking up the coffee mug. He held it up in a salute. "And to you!" he said. "Did you enjoy your skiing trip?"
She snorted. "The skiing was fun, but I discovered that I have absolutely nothing in common with Lucy's clubbing crowd. I don't think I was ever that vapid, even back when I was their age!"
Clark chuckled and sipped cautiously at the coffee. "So you're glad to be back to the treadmill?"
"Sure am!" She smiled warmly at him and, without thinking, blurted out, "I missed you."
His eyes flew to hers, and his coffee mug tilted dangerously for a moment. There was a breathless silence, while Lois berated herself internally; then, just as she'd decided to break the awkward pause by asking what they were meant to be working on, Clark put down his mug and reached out to lay a gentle hand on her arm. The startlement in his eyes had changed to pleasure, and something warmer... something that made Lois feel tingly all over, from head to toe. "I missed you, too," he said simply.
There was another pause, and the words "I wish you'd kissed me goodnight" danced crazily through Lois's brain. She was opening her mouth to say something - she didn't know what - when Perry's office door opened.
"Kent! My office, now!" came the familiar bellow.
Clark's eyes held Lois's for a second longer, then he got to his feet, his hand dropping away from her arm. "Coming, Chief!" he yelled back. Lois gave him a quick grin and retreated to her desk as Clark vanished into Perry's sanctum.
It was a subdued Clark who emerged a few minutes later, however. Lois looked at him curiously as he approached with none of his earlier cheerfulness.
"New story?" she enquired.
"No," he said sombrely. "Well, yes, sort of... Perry wants me in Europe, to report on Secretary Wallace's trade negotiations. Van Heerden broke his leg skiing over the weekend, and they can't find anyone to replace him at such short notice. I'm flying to Brussels this afternoon."
Lois's heart sank. "But that's ridiculous!" she protested. "There must be someone else they can send!"
Her obvious resentment seemed to cheer Clark up a little. "They need someone who can speak enough European languages. Unfortunately, I put that on my resume when I applied to the Daily Planet."
Lois thrust her chin out mulishly. "Well, there are millions of Europeans," she pointed out. "Thousands of them must be multilingual. How about our London bureau? They must have someone who can speak... Belgian..."
"Flemish," Clark murmured, an amused twinkle in his eye. "It's similar to Dutch. Or French - Brussels is bilingual."
"Whatever!" Lois glared at him. "The point is, there must be someone over there they can use!"
"Well, to quote Perry," Clark said, a slow grin lighting up his features, "the Europeans are too parochial. The Planet needs someone who can report the American angle."
Lois stared at him in amazement. "He never said that... did he?" At Clark's nod she gave an involuntary chuckle, and for a moment they savoured the joke together. Then Lois sobered. "I guess you'd better go home and pack, then. Can I drive you to the airport?"
He looked at her with that special warmth again, and gave her another devastating smile. "Thank you," he said. "I'd like that."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The drive out of the city was unusually silent. They were early enough to miss the evening rush hour, but the leaden sky and the icy conditions that had produced so many pile-ups over the last week made driving difficult, and Lois had little attention to spare from the road. In any case, she still didn't know how to broach the subject of her feelings; even thinking about it tightened her throat and constricted her chest with panic.
They were nearly at their destination before she realised that Clark wasn't his usual calm self, either. He was sitting stiffly with one hand firmly clasping the door handle, the other clenching and unclenching on his knee. She didn't think it was her driving; he'd been nervous about that originally, but he'd long since learnt to relax, even when she was bucketing down narrow alleys or skidding around blind corners in pursuit of a hot story. In any case, she was driving far more slowly than usual this time.
"Are you okay, Clark?" she said as she slowed for the airport exit.
He didn't answer immediately, and her brain at once started to invent reasons. He was uncomfortable being with her because he knew she had a crush on him, and he didn't want to let on that he knew. Or maybe he was worried that she'd want to kiss him goodbye at the airport. Or maybe... just maybe... he wanted to kiss her goodbye, and he didn't know whether to risk it or not...
"I don't like flying," Clark said abruptly, cutting short her fanciful thoughts. Of course, he hadn't been thinking about her that way at all. The admission must have cost him something, though. Clark never went out of his way to appear macho, but from the whiteness of his knuckles and the glimpse she caught of the sheen on his forehead as she checked her mirror, this was no mild dislike. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought he was terrified.
"You flew to Kansas last week," she reminded him. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"That was... different," he said. "I guess I'm used to that trip. This one'll be much longer."
"It's funny," she said idly, hoping to give his thoughts a better direction. "I asked you once if you'd rather be invisible or fly, and you said fly..."
He gave a strained smile. "Fly like Superman," he reminded her. "Out in the open, not cooped up for hour after hour in a little metal cylinder. It's quite different when you do it under your own steam... I imagine."
Lois knitted her brows. That sounded almost claustrophobic, but Clark had never shown any signs of distress in enclosed spaces before. Why, she must have ridden in elevators dozens of times with him in the past...
"I'm sure you'll be fine once you're on your way," she said soothingly, turning into the carpark. Then she was obliged to devote all her attention to finding a convenient parking spot and stealing it from under the nose of a large black Lexus without scraping her precious paint.
The airport was thronged with holidaymakers and businessmen, and Lois spent some time waiting with Clark's single suitcase while he queued at the airline's customer service desk to pick up his ticket. He looked tenser than ever, standing fidgeting in the line, and on impulse Lois wheeled the suitcase into a nearby shop and bought him a U-shaped neck support. It wasn't much, but perhaps it would help him relax on the flight.
Clark was almost at the counter when she returned to where he'd left her. With a cautious glance around to check that no one was watching her, Lois quickly retrieved her makeup compact from her bag and dabbed a tiny spot of her perfume on the ends of the cushion. Maybe Clark would be thinking of her on his journey, and not some leggy blonde stewardess...
Then Clark was striding back towards her, ticket in hand, and it was time for him to check in. She waited again while he cleared the mercifully short queue for his flight, then he was standing in front of her once more.
"I'd better go through security right away," he said awkwardly. "There's not much time left. Lois..."
She thrust the shopping bag containing the neck support at him. "You should try to sleep on the plane," she said. "It'll be nearly morning there by the time you reach your hotel."
"Thank you, Lois," he said, his eyes expressing an appreciation that he couldn't put into words. "Well..."
She blinked back a sudden suspicious moisture. It just wasn't fair - she'd had to get by without Clark for a whole week, and now he would be gone for another week, maybe two, while Wallace made a stately progression around Europe. Why couldn't she have picked a better time to fall... to discover she felt this way about him? She suddenly wished for some tangible way to hold onto his presence while he was gone.
"Clark, who's watering your plants?" she blurted out.
His jaw dropped. "My... my plants?" he echoed blankly.
"Yes, Clark, your house plants!" she said. "You know, the ficus tree Perry gave you for Christmas? And you must have other plants. Someone'll have to look after them while you're away..."
"I hadn't thought about it," he confessed. "Maybe Superman..."
"
Superman water your plants?" She stared at him incredulously. She had a sudden mental image of the superhero walking solemnly around Clark's apartment with a little plastic watering can, but she suppressed the wild laughter that threatened to bubble out of her. "Clark, Superman has
much better things to do. Come on, give me your keys."
"My keys?
You're going to water them?" It was his turn for incredulity. "But Lois, you and plants..." She turned a withering glare on him. "Lois, be reasonable! There's been a steady procession of plants over your desk in the year and a half I've known you, and not
one of them has left alive!"
She bit back a giggle. "They usually last more than two weeks," she said austerely. "And I promise faithfully not to pour any cold coffee into your ficus tree. Now, are you going to give me your keys or not?" He hesitated, and she looked appealingly up at him. "I'll pick you up when you get back, and you won't need them while you're trotting around Europe."
He gave in, smiling at her with a mixture of amusement and resignation. "I wouldn't dare refuse," he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket and presenting them to her with a flourish as she chuckled. "And, Lois..."
She met his eyes, and saw that they had turned serious. The emotion there made her heart beat suddenly faster. "Thanks... for everything," he said huskily.
Ever so slowly, he bent towards her. His eyes flickered downwards, and Lois knew this time he was going to kiss her goodbye; but he was giving her the opportunity to turn her head slightly and present her cheek if she wanted to. Instead, she turned her face up to his and waited.
His lips brushed across hers, and for a moment she feared that he would pull away; then her eyes fluttered closed as his warm mouth covered hers, his lips pressing softly against hers for a blissful moment. Then he was straightening, his hand coming up to cup her cheek gently.
"Goodbye, Lois," he said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I'll... I'll call you."
"Goodbye, Clark," she responded, wishing she could express her feelings instead of mouthing platitudes. "Travel safely." And come back to me quickly, she added, not quite getting up the nerve to say it aloud.
His eyes dwelt on her face a little longer, as if he was storing away the sight of her; then he gave a little half-wave and turned to make his way through the security checkpoint and vanish into the limbo of the departure lounge.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
/tbc...
