Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Between Red and White Roses

Title: Between Red and White Roses

Author's notes: Here is part 4 of the series Between One Lane and Another! In part 3, Lois and Clark defeated the daytime terrors of Lois's apartment, we were introduced to Juvenilia Margaret Chickenny, and Clark gave us an important lesson: brushing your teeth is absolutely essential. If you haven't seen the previous parts, here's the TOC.



On the movie theater screen, another film ending that Lois and Clark weren't watching was playing. Her fingers were tangled in his hair while she bit his lip, and he groaned against her mouth, holding her nape gently with one hand and pulling her closer by the waist with the other.

In the back of Lois's mind, two questions surfaced. The first was: how could Clark not look even slightly uncomfortable in the position he'd been in for an hour, leaning over her like that? And the second: how much money had they already paid to this damned movie theater, only to end up not remembering a single film they'd actually gone to see?

And, well, considering the fact that for the past two months they'd practically been buying tickets just to make out, it was a significant amount.

The first time they went to the movies together, they saw a film they both liked about a Jamaican bobsled team. It was the day after the first kiss (or the first three kisses), and the tension and attraction between them buzzed with electricity. In the final minutes of the movie, they'd started kissing (to this day, neither of them remembered exactly who made the first move), and they were so distracted they had to be interrupted by a cleaning lady clearing her throat.

"You're going to have to leave now." She tapped her foot impatiently, holding a broom and a bucket. She gestured to the now-lit theater, which was dirty and empty except for the two of them. "Can't clean while there are people in here."

Despite the discomfort caused by the light that had suddenly invaded her eyes, Lois jumped up from her seat and frantically fixed her hair and clothes. As she passed the cleaning lady, she heard her mutter, "At that age, and still acting like teenagers..."

Clark, who was following behind Lois, turned around calmly to reply with mock seriousness. "A thousand apologies, ma'am. It's just that we have a ten-year-old at home. My stepson is as nosy as his mother and won't leave us alone for a minute. So we take our opportunities where they come..."

Red with embarrassment, Lois pulled Clark out of there and smacked his chest, scolding him for talking about Lane Lane that way. Still, she smiled all the way to her front door, when he kissed her goodnight.

Since then, she had come to really appreciate going to the movies with him. There, they didn't have to be emotionally vulnerable, nor was anything more than kissing expected of them. After all, they couldn't make out anywhere else without the terrifying pressure of physical intimacy bearing down on Lois.

And it really was terrifying: if they'd been dating for three months, at least half that time had been pure chaos inside Lois's brain, replaying memories of her relationship traumas and conjuring up paranoid thoughts. The biggest source of paranoia was the issue of sex. She didn't feel ready yet, but she was absolutely certain that Clark would pressure her soon, and then she'd be in a dead end. If she refused, he would leave. If she gave in, he would be disappointed in her and would leave anyway. And, even though Lois barely admitted it to herself, she couldn't stand the thought of watching him go. She had already grown attached to him, and to the imaginary son they were raising together, to their byline at the newspaper, to Juvenilia. My God, if Clark left, what would she do with Juvenilia? Throw it away?

Would she be capable of throwing Juvenilia away?

Of course, Clark had never really made a single advance of a sexual nature, but since it’s Lois Lane we're talking about, she had developed ways to avoid a responsibility that existed only in her own head. One of those ways was going to the movies, and that was why two fearless journalists who faced the greatest dangers in Metropolis would go make out there like a couple of teenagers.

It was quite ridiculous, actually, and Lois wondered when Clark would get tired of this — and also what she should do from then on.

"It's over," Clark whispered.

"It's over?" Lois asked, startled, hating how pathetic she sounded. She thought she'd have some time to prepare before the breakup.

"The movie's over." He stroked her hair, smoothing the mess his own hands had made, completely oblivious to the mess he'd made inside Lois's mind. "How about dinner?"

"Oh! Right, the movie. What else could it be, right? Yeah, let's get dinner."

Clark raised an eyebrow, confused and amused, and let Lois pull him by the hand towards the exit. He felt himself grow warm at her touch, as always, even though her fingers were cold. He kissed them to warm them up.

Lois rolled her eyes at him, even though deep down she always loved it when he kissed her hand. "Don't do that in public, Kent." The theater was lit enough by a light coming from outside, and crowded with people lining up to go through the door. They all seemed interested in their own lives, but you never knew where one of Cat Grant's sources might find them.

Clark leaned in to whisper in her ear, and Lois played off the shiver that ran through her as just the air conditioning, or the December cold, or whatever. "Should I remind you that we were kissing in public, Miss Lane?" Then he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, which didn't help her keep her composure at all.

"It's not the same thing!" she whispered back. "We were in the last row. And the seat next to mine was empty."

"Well, the seat next to mine wasn't. Some guy came and sat down there around the middle of the movie. And he looked a lot like that new research assistant who started at the Planet yesterday."

"How could you see? It was pitch black in there!" Lois was starting to get nervous. "Oh my God, are you sure it was him?"

"Relax, Lois." Clark laughed, squeezing her hand to reassure her. "I was just kidding."

Lois snorted. "You love doing that."

He shrugged. "But would it be so bad, if someone found out?"

Just so we can break up in two weeks because you couldn't sleep with me? Lois replied internally. I don't think so.

"Hmm? What do you think?" Clark pressed, gently squeezing her hand once more.

"Clark, you have lipstick on your mouth," she said, grateful she’d noticed it at such an opportune moment.

"I do? Here, on this side?"

"Let me get it." Lois ran her thumb over his parted lip, still red and moist, surprised at how sensual the gesture felt to her. She cleared her throat. "There."

Clark swallowed hard. "You have a stain too." He did the same to her, and Lois wondered how he would react if she bit his finger.

For someone who was afraid of intimacy, she had been having some pretty contradictory thoughts.

"Hey, are you lovebirds just going to stand there and block the way, or what? Some of us want to get through!"

They hurried out immediately, Clark apologizing and Lois keeping her head down in embarrassment.

The restaurant they'd chosen was lovely. Neither too fancy nor too simple, which made Lois's little black dress the perfect choice — especially considering how many times she'd caught Clark looking at her legs throughout the night.

That wasn't uncomfortable; on the contrary, it was a different feeling, wanting to be admired by him, wearing a specific outfit to work wondering what he would think. She also looked at Clark far more than she'd like to admit, because her eyes were always inevitably drawn to his beautiful smile or to the way his hair fell over his glasses. Or to his forearms. Or to his shoulders. Or to his back. Or to his entire body, for that matter. She remembered one time she'd gone to pick him up at his place for a press conference and he'd answered the door shirtless. That was quite an experience...

But Lois didn't admire only his physique. She liked the way he thought and kept up with her reasoning, his kindness, his easy way of making Jimmy laugh when he was feeling down, the love that overflowed in his voice when he called his parents, his ability to make anything feel lighter.

Except Clark himself wasn't as light as usual. He seemed nervous at times, taking deep breaths and drumming his fingers on the table, like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the courage.

Had he brought her there just to end things that night?

"Excuse me." A waiter approached as they were having coffee after dessert. He was carrying a bouquet of red and white roses. "For Miss Lane."

She thanked him and took the bouquet carefully, not even looking for a card to see who the sender was. Red and white roses. How many were there? Could the colors combined with the number of flowers be some kind of code for I really like you but I've discovered it's not that much and I think we should call it quits? Lois tried to count the roses, but her haste and nervousness weren't helping. All she could tell was that it was a reasonable amount, a nice arrangement without being flashy. It was very Clark's style. He'd given her flowers before: a bouquet of pink roses, one of lavender roses, one of orange roses, a single red rose, and even a full, simple bouquet of red roses once. Either he'd send them to the Planet, with no card — but would smile when she glanced at him discreetly — or he'd send them to her place on a Sunday, with a tender message, or he'd hand them to her in person before a date. Red and white roses, however, he'd never sent her before. She started counting them again, after losing track for the tenth time.

"Lois," Clark called out calmly, and only then did she look up, hoping not as much time had passed as it had seemed in her head.

Pull yourself together, Lane. You can't let it affect you, no matter what words he chooses. "Yes?"

"I've been wanting to talk to you about something... For a while, actually, but it never seemed like the right time. So..." He reached across the table, palm up. Even though she didn't understand why he needed to hold her hand to break up with her, Lois complied, trying to ignore the anxious flutter in her chest. Come on, she thought, just get it over with! "Lois..." Clark continued, after clearing his throat. "I was wondering... What do you think about making our relationship official?

She blinked. What an unusual breakup. "Do you mean...?"

"Being serious, exclusive boyfriend and girlfriend," he explained.

A few seconds passed before Lois realized that he was definitely not breaking up with her. Quite the opposite, he wanted a serious relationship. A wave of relief nearly overwhelmed her, but immediately afterward her hyperactive mind raced in another direction. He wants you to be official boyfriend and girlfriend! Ha! You know what happens between official boyfriend and girlfriend, Lois? Sex! They have sex!, a shrill, annoying little voice screamed in her head.

Clark stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "If you think it's too soon... or if you... don't want to..."

Lois swallowed hard and looked into his eyes. There was understanding in them, but also anxiety. This was important to him, she realized. He really wanted her yes. Did she want to say yes? Yes. She tested the word in her head, careful not to let it slip onto her tongue. Y-e-s. Yes, yes, yes. Pragmatic as always, she began interrogating herself. Did she really want to accept? Did she like him that much? Yes. Was she willing to endure the whispers from the Planet staff and Cat Grant's indiscretion? Yes. But what about sex, Lois? Yes. Wait, do you want to have sex with him? Yes... Are you serious? Yes! You're just scared, is that it? Yes. And will he be willing to wait?

"Yes?"

Clark's hopeful voice was what snapped Lois out of her trance, and only then did she realize that she had let the word slip onto her tongue, after all.

"Yes," she repeated, tasting that treacherous syllable — far too easy to say — like someone sampling a wine of dubious origin. It was such a short word, only three letters, could fit in a sigh. Dangerous. And after repeating it so many times, Lois wasn't even sure she still knew what it meant. Liar. You do know. "Yes."

Clark let out a breath, breaking into a sweet, charming smile that he was clearly holding back to avoid being too over-the-top. He brought her hand to his lips. "Thank you."

Her heart raced as she realized the depth of his satisfaction, and she swallowed hard. "Um, thank you too." Then Lois shook her head slightly. What was she doing, sighing and babbling like a character from a romance novel? She was the star reporter of the Daily Planet, for heaven's sake! Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand away. "So that means you were seeing other women this whole time, huh?"

"What? No!" Clark looked so worried that Lois almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost. "I was only, and am only, seeing you. And I know you're only seeing me too. I just wanted—"

"And who said I'm only seeing you?" she interrupted, one eyebrow raised. "Lane Lane's father called me on Monday, confessed he still loves me, and wanted to set up a dinner date. I was supposed to call him back tonight with my answer..."

After a moment of shock, Clark broke into a huge smile, feeling his chest tighten with the urge to laugh and do somersaults in the sky. "And what are you going to tell him?"

"I was thinking about accepting." Lois sniffed the fragrant roses in her bouquet to hide her own smile. "But after your lovely proposal... I think I'll just call to let him know he's got competition."

Clark let out a short laugh. That short laugh that was just for her. "Please, say that and nothing else."

"You two can fight over me at Menken Gym."

"Oh, really? And whoever's left standing gets you?"

"Well, I guess that's the spirit of it."

"He's going to find out I'm pretty strong, then."

They stared at each other for a while, and Lois felt an overwhelming urge to pull him into a kiss right there.

Fortunately for her reputation, Lois managed to resist that urge until they reached her apartment door, where she finally gave in. She cupped his face with one hand, the other occupied with the bouquet, wishing she could put it down somewhere so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders, wishing they'd taken her car so they would have arrived sooner and she could have kissed him already. The reason she'd been driving less lately, however, was Clark himself, simply for the newly discovered pleasure of walking beside him. (At least that was the real reason. If you asked, she'd say it was for some ecological cause or something.)

Clark smiled against her mouth and pulled her towards him by the hips. Only then did an alarm go off in Lois's brain. She shouldn’t have kissed him, she realized too late, if she hadn’t intended to invite him inside. And once inside, what exactly would he expect from her? She began placing distracted kisses along his jaw while mapping out a plan. She wondered if he'd be satisfied if she just took care of him on the couch and then made up some excuse not to take things further. That would probably be enough to appease him for a while, right?

"Lo-is," he said through clenched teeth, drawing out her name as she nibbled on a spot on his neck. Judging by his heavy sigh, she'd say he'd be satisfied with anything she did at that moment.

In other words, he'd be satisfied if you did nothing at all! Are you sure you're just being strategic, Lois? the shrill, annoying little voice in her head taunted. Or do you just want to see Clark Kent all shaky and breathless on your couch without having to commit yourself in the process?

Lois nearly blushed at the realization, extremely embarrassed. She turned her attention back to Clark's parted lips, thinking about what to do. As appealing as the image she’d imagined might be, it would be too risky. It meant promising something she didn't know when she’d be able to deliver, and that could make things very awkward. So she was back to square one: what should she do?

The answer came like a bolt of lightning: Lucy! Lucy was home. She'd been working a lot of night shifts lately, but she'd be home that night! Problem solved. She'd just use her sister as an excuse and postpone the issue until the next opportunity.

"Leaving!" The door behind them swung open and slammed shut, and Lucy came running out with a half-open backpack on her shoulders. "I’m leaving!" Just as she reached the end of the hallway, she started hopping on one foot to adjust the shoe on the other.

"Lucy! Where are you—"

"I'm gonna grab a cab and sleep over at Britney's! Bye!"

And then she was gone. In disbelief, they stared at the end of the hallway for another moment. Finally, Clark turned to Lois, his hands still on her hips, and she short-circuited.

"Well, then... In that case... Um... Do you..." My God, Lane, just get over this fear and invite him in already! The best way to remove a band-aid is to rip it off all at once! She took a deep breath. "Do you want..."

She was interrupted by the sudden change in Clark's face. He had the same expression he wore right before disappearing: head tilted, brow furrowed, eyes glazed over.

"Um, I... Lois... I have to go." His hands slid from her hips and Lois suddenly felt cold. "I have to... Turn off the stove! I just remembered I left it on. See you at the Planet!"

Lois watched him run and disappear from view, and then she sighed, unsure whether it was out of relief or exasperation. It seemed she wouldn't have to worry about the intimacy issue anytime soon.





Final notes: We decide to write a fanfic, and suddenly prepositions that seemed as easy as "between" and "among" start stabbing us in the back. Funny. Did you guys like the title? I wanted to convey the image of Lois caught between the meanings of these two rose colors, red and white.

Please consider leaving a comment, it would make me very happy. <3

Next part: Part 5

I thought it was funny that Clark used their 10 year old make believe son as an excuse for kissing in the theater! Lane Lane definitely takes after his mom!

I’m glad Lois and Clark have made their relationship official but I hope Clark tells Lois soon that he’s the Blur. Thanks for a wonderful fic!

And Clark probably used the same excuse to kiss Lois in other inappropriate places, if we stop to think about it XD Thank you for your lovely comments <3

Poor Lois. Her anxiety got the better of her.


Now she's getting paranoid.


Ah, the lame excuses. They would pop up sooner or later.

Thank you for another delightful part.

Andreia

Writing Lois in paranoia mode is so much fun hehe =D
Thanks for reading my story ^^

Thanks for writing another chapter in the Lane Lane series. Its sweet! As requested, here is my comment!



Lois is great at the art of Babble.

The title is certainly meaningful: Unity, Harmony, and Partnership. If that does not tell us all about Lois and Clark's relationship nothing does! Still it also shows that Clark understands the language of flowers. The man is an incurable romantic.

Hi peixinho!

I did not see this opening coming. Boy, they’re acting like teenagers on Revenge, aren’t they? Is this still gonna be SFW?


And the third: how can she consider such an unimportant factoid when she’s thus engaged? Also, they do could move the whole sordid affair to his living room. It’s got a comfortable couch they could defile.


They don’t need an excuse. Clark doesn’t have a roommate, unless you consider his new cockroach friend he rescued from from Lois’s apartment. And it’s much much cheaper. Only danger left, there’s no risk of public indecency and thus things could...escalate quickly if she’s not careful.


And that’s how you get your date to float.


Yes. People. People who make place filthy. Shoo! Shoo!


/points to earlier remark/


Clark! I don’t know where to start! Is it the implied marriage? The lie about the stepson. Or hanging Lois out to dry as a nosy reporter?

LUCY: How do you think she got pregnant in the first place? Never could she leave a strange new thing unexplored.


/points once more to earlier remarks/ It’s so cute they have a chaperon to make sure nothing son-creating happens.


Actually, she should talk to Lucy about the three-date-rule. If he hasn’t broached the subject after spending about 60 workdays with her plus at least 12 evening outings, he probably isn’t concerned with sex.

LOIS: Oh, I can assure you, he is *very* concerned with it.

Aaaanyway, I’m sure he’s not gonna mention it unless she mentions it first. He might pop out a ring sometime soon, though. And what about that flying freak in tights?




Best cut your losses now and leave him first.


Put the chicken in a Clark-box.





Yes, he really needs to use less tongue.


Maybe he’s taking notes on how to best make out at the movies?


Perry wouldn’t send them on that undercover trip at the Lexor?


/sighs and gets out math board/ The numbers don’t add up. There was no sleeping with Lois for the past 12 weeks. Two more weeks are not a number founded in facts.


And who’s fault is that?




Completely normal Lois Lane reaction.


She could measure the … column inches he produces per hour when she’s wearing a particular outfit.


Needing to leave?




He’s not going to propose, is he?


Go to HR. Fill out the form. Get the lecture from Perry about not abusing the storage closet or the conference room table.


You have such an adorable Lois!





Again, there’ve been couples who got married and divorced in a shorter timespan.








Awwww… poor libidinous Lois is trying to come out to play


It’s very cute and heartfelt that she answers her one question about Clark with her own intuition and that’s want slipped out.


You’re doing great poetic prose here!


Oops?


Yes, given how they spend every waking hour with each other anyway.


Kissing while trying to slow things down isn’t really helpful and had been known to send mixed messages.


Lois!


LOIS:


Ooops?


Wait, did Lucy watch them through the door spy and decide to give Lois some much needed privacy?







His ‘OMG I don’t want to sleep with you’ face!


Now you introduce us to excuse-me-Clark? *now*?


Nope.


Ah, chastity and passion? Or are we talking York and Lancaster?

Very enjoyable part. And I already mentioned the prose! Also, kissing.

Michael

Morgana, thank you for commenting! I'm glad to know you liked it.

*feels a little embarrassed after four months have passed* Hi, Michael!


Exactly!

"son-creating" !!!

Makes sense...

Oh yes, that’s something very important indeed

Try explaining that to her!

That would be a very interesting behavioral experiment. It could even make an article in its own right. (Hm okay now I want to read a short fic about this)

Thank goodness I really wasn’t drinking anything when I read this comment!

Thank you so much! If I remember correctly, this was the hardest part of the whole series to write at first. I just couldn’t make the part after the movie fun for me to write, which, in terms of "Peixinho trying to write", means the death of the story :P But I stubbornly kept at it until I got to that "yes" paragraph, which I really enjoyed writing. And then things got much easier, because that new light made me want to keep going, so I just carried on writing until I finished and then went back to edit the bits that weren’t working, feeling much more motivated.

Again, try explaining that to her

Probably. Poor girl, she must have been startled.



Sorry?

That was definitely on my mind too!

Hi peixinho!

Hush, it’s all right!


Happy to entertain, too!


There’s two ways to bring that about


Oops? Did I forget to warn you about this particular rule for reading FDK?


Well, the work showed!


FoLC are deviously alike!

Glad I could entertain with my FDK

Michael

One of them is you writing it, right?

Luckily, you warned me!