Hello, all! Thank you so much for the reviews and warm welcome back. I've missed you all.
A longer reply to reviews and such can be found in chapter 43's fdk.
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
--------------------------------------------
Chapter 44: Progress
-------------------------------------------
After telling her story Mrs. Logram seemed to simply run out of energy. She sat there, deflated and beaten. Thanking her for everything, Lois and Clark took their leave. The newly widowed woman gave them a farewell along with Logram’s old work address and a request that she be kept up-to-date with any breakthroughs.
“I might not know anything,” the woman had said as she stood on her doorstep, hugging herself against some non-existent morning , “but . . . his work . . . they might have . . . heard, seen . . . or something. That’s all I can give you.”
Clark turned down Lois’s offer to drive with a soft shake of his head and took to the passenger seat, lost in thought.
If they had only asked him. If they had asked him—surely he would have been willing to let them use him to save the life of a little girl.
He was willing to face pain, torture, even death to protect even one, frightened little girl.
Was he willing to face pain, torture, even death to protect even one, frightened little girl?
That answer was obvious: an unconditional “yes.”
That answer made him feel sick as he heard that “unconditional” and realized what it meant.
He never had a hesitation about throwing his life on the line to save an innocent life out on the streets. Why would this be all that different?
If there was something in him that could heal such terrible diseases just like this . . . If he was truly so willing to help, he should find another doctor, let them use whatever that was to find cures for so many of mankind’s ailments . . . .
The very thought made him very glad that he wasn’t driving, because all he could do was close his eyes and clench his hands. He couldn’t grip anything—his fingers were tight enough to bend steel as they formed fists on his lap.
“Clark?”
Lois’s voice was soft, even timid, though the thought of Lois Lane speaking timidly was ridiculous, especially to this man, who had seen how strong she was against the worst of trials.
“You okay?”
Why wouldn’t he be okay? He was Clark Kent, who had never been trapped in the white room, who’s blood didn’t have the ability to heal a previously un-curable disease. He had no reason not to be okay.
No wonder she thought so little of Clark, looking at his fear and bumbling through eyes like that.
He unclenched his hands, opened his eyes. Forced himself to relax, to untie the knot in his stomach.
The last didn’t work very well.
Swallow. Lean back a bit. That’s right—casual. No need for him to be reacting like this. Superman wasn’t here right now—not in Lois’s mind, at least—and Clark had no reason to be so tense.
“Sure, Lois.”
Her glance was unreadable as she glanced from the road to him.
What was she thinking? About Superman, and about how he would take this news? Was she even going to tell him?
She wouldn’t get the chance. Clark was going to tell her first.
There was a moment of silence.
Now?
“What’s the address for that, Clark?”
No. Not yet. Perhaps at lunch. Maybe get her to take a walk with him to some secluded spot so she could scream and rage without drawing too much attention . . . .
Clark looked down at the paper Mrs. Logram had written the address on. He blinked.
“I-it’s at Metro Physics, Lois.”
Lois up sharply.
“Lex,” she realized. “Clark, you don’t think—”
“T-That Logram might have been part of the reason for Lex acquiring Metro Physics?” Clark finished for her, resting his right arm on the open window. He shifted so his palm was upwards, feeling the brush of the sun against his skin and welcoming it. “Maybe. No doubt the $32 million surplus of the company was a bonus as well.”
Lois’s grip shifted on the wheel and she leaned forward, her eyes narrowed and not just because of the glare on the road. “My reporter’s instinct is itching. This is going to be good, Clark. I can feel it.”
The drive wasn’t long. Logram had situated his home so the ride to work was less than fifteen minutes, which was impressive anywhere, let alone in Metropolis. Lois parked the car and they headed together towards the entrance.
“We need to be quick,” Lois said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Lex has instructions to call him if we show up.” Or maybe he’d been watching them all along. In that case they had to be extra careful. Especially Clark.
Half of her loathed the idea of dragging him into such a place, but she had no good reason to keep Clark Kent out, and if Superman knew her reasonings then there would be no way to keep him from her side—that she knew. Taking a deep breath, she started inside with a bold step, making sure Clark came right at her side.
The lobby was still with too-cold recycled and air conditioned air, and the silence was a sharp contrast to the welcome bustle of Metropolis. Clark didn’t let himself relax by extending his hearing far outside the building—they were in the snake’s lair, and he needed to be alert and ready . . . no matter how edgy it made him. The stink of disinfectants didn’t help.
He folded his arms, trying to make it look casual rather than to hide the slight shaking in his hands.
He frowned, clenching and unclenching his hands. Forcing them to relax. Forcing them to stop shaking.
He was tense, but he could be strong. He’d turn his fear into strength.
He would figure things out, no matter what it took.
Clark noticed Lois watching him surreptitiously. Their eyes caught for a second and she looked away quickly.
Her heart rate had just shot up. The sound of it was clear in the sharp silence of the too-white room.
What was that about?
Was she really that scared? She certainly wasn’t showing it. Rather, she looked a little flushed rather than pale, even while she worried her bottom lip.
“Can I help you?”
The young white-garbed nurse was watching them disinterestedly.
“Could you tell us where room A1128 is?”
The nurse tapped away at the keyboard in front of her. She frowned at what she saw on the screen, typed furiously for another second, then looked up at them.
“What is your clearance, Mr. and Mrs. . . . ?”
“Kent,” Clark finished. Then he stuttered. “C-clark Kent, I mean. And this is L-lois. Lane.” He sent a flustered look at Lois, and was surprised to find her looking more amused than not. She didn’t catch his eye.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kent, but—”
“Miss Lane? Lois Lane? My, now, isn’t it great to see you!” A thin man with wild grey hair and a thick grey beard had come around the corner, and had called out from behind his clipboard, which he had paused in the middle of turning a page. Now that he had seen them, he lowered the notes and stepped forward at a brisk pace.
“Never mind, Emily. These two are with me.”
“But Professor . . . . ”
“No, not, ‘But Professor.’ I’ve been waiting all afternoon for these two to show up.” He took Lois by the arm and steered her down the hall, leaving Clark to follow. “Why didn’t you show up at the time of your appointment?”
Lois stared at him, momentarily without words. “Dr. Hamilton—”
“Shh!” the bearded man shushed her as they turned the corner, not slowing his step. There was a gleam in his eye, and a slight shimmer of sweat on his wrinkled brow. “Not here.”
Lois looked back to make sure Clark hadn’t been left behind. He quickly pulled his hand away from his glasses and shoved them in his pocket and shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.
She managed to keep the confused frown from her face as she looked forward again. She had always thought he had a problem with his glasses or something, but this was Superman she was thinking about, here. She resisted to turn back and stare at him to try and figure out this mystery.
Hamilton steered them into his office and glanced back into the hall before closing the door firmly and activating the lock. “What are you doing here, Miss Lane?”
“Looking up on Dr. Logram.”
Sharp eyes stared out of thick glasses at her. Hamilton put his clipboard on the table next to a tray of vials. After a moment his gaze went to Clark and he frowned.
“Who’s this?”
Clark blinked, pulling his hands from his pockets as if he were a kid caught stealing a stick of gum from a friend’s backpack.
“C-Clark Kent, Professor.”
“My partner,” Lois explained. Hamilton’s frown didn’t disappear, but only increased.
“Have we met before?”
Lois paused, blinked. She remembered Clark saying he knew the doctor, and that he worked at Metro Physics. But Hamilton didn’t recognize him, or at least his name.
Oh, goodness. Clark had never been to see the professor, but Lois was willing to bet that his primary-garbed counterpart had.
Primary-garbed counterpart? It was funny to think of Kal-El like that, though she couldn’t figure why.
She cleared her throat. “He just has one of those faces,” she said quickly. Clark shot her a puzzled look. “Professor,” Lois said. “We’re here to see Dr. Logram’s office and labs.”
Hamilton puffed at his moustache. “Won’t do you any good,” he said. “Luthor had the place stripped down as soon as he got his hands on the place. Everything’s gone.”
Lois deflated. “Everything?”
“Claims he didn’t want the bad publicity of an illegal researcher tainting the place. Cadswollop, if you ask me.” He turned around, shifting through papers, notes, and moving around a number of odd instruments. “I’m leaving, myself. Have a place for me over at STAR Labs. I’m almost done cleaning up the place.” Lois glanced up to see Clark lifting a doubtful eyebrow at the cluttered room. “I’m no politician, but I’m not working under Luthor. Never liked the man, and neither does Superman. That puts a black mark on his name, if you ask me—”
The part about Superman just seemed to have slipped out of the absent-minded professor, but it made Lois edgy. “Can we at least look around his lab? Maybe there was something Luthor missed.”
Hamilton shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “It’s not like Luthor can fire me or anything,” he muttered. He turned, then paused with his hand on the doorknob to look back at them. “All right. Just follow me and try to act inconspicuous.”
Clark adjusted his glasses. Lois nodded.
Hamilton led them out of his office and down the hall. A left, past four doors, a right, past two doors and a fire extinguisher. Lois stopped behind Hamilton as the professor stopped in front of a bare door whose name plaque had been stripped away, leaving a slightly yellowed remnant of some sort of long-dried glue where it had been. Hamilton glanced one way and then the next—Lois and Clark both mirrored his actions. He pulled out his key and fit it to the lock.
It wouldn’t turn.
Hamilton took it out, frowned at the key as he held it up to his eyes, then tried again. Still no success.
“They must have changed the lock,” he declared. “Sorry, I—”
Lois didn’t wait. Every moment in these white walls was increasing her feeling of unease. She reached for her picklocks and credit card—taking both in hand.
Lois couldn’t help but smile a bit triumphantly when, less than a minute later, the door swung open.
All this practice was really beginning to pay off.
The smile dropped from her face, however, when she saw the stripped down and bare laboratory on the other side of the door.
They stepped in. Hamilton was wringing his hands as Clark stepped forward, looking around intently. Lois turned to the professor.
“Thanks for your help,” she said. “We can take it from here.”
“You sure?” Hamilton asked, his eyes following Clark’s movements. Clark had walked slowly to the center of the immaculate lab, and now stood with his hands in his pockets as he looked about with apparent ease.
“I’m sure,” Lois said, also watching her partner’s back as he stood between bare metal tables and the white walls. She swallowed, feeling very closed in. She wanted out of there right now.
How could he stand it? How could he still be so strong? How had he dealt with it all, all alone?
And now, with what they had learned . . . what must he be thinking? Feeling?
Hamilton nodded and looked at them both one last time before turning and leaving. Clark hardly seemed to notice, but bent down and started staring at the floor, his eyes dark behind his glasses. It might have been the light, or perhaps the surrounding whiteness of the room, but his face did look a bit pale—his lips tight and grim.
They both needed out of there.
Lois realized that it was a bit odd for her to be standing there, just watching him do the searching. Shifting her purse over her shoulder, she got to work. Maybe he had super-vision or whatnot, but there might be something he could miss. After all, he was only—
Human?
Lois shook her head as she started opening the cupboards.
Only one man.
Of course that was what she had been about to think. Whether he was human or not didn’t matter. It hadn’t for Kal-El, after all.
Clark wasn’t human.
Stop, stop, stop! There’d be more time to think about Clark-Superman-El later.
The point was, whether Clark was a Kryptonian or a Smallvillean, they were partners—and she the senior partner at that. It was together that they had already worked to become the best reporting team in Metropolis.
Lois glanced from another empty cupboard towards Clark, who had been peering over his glasses around the room.
Using his X-Ray vision, Lois realized suddenly, and blinked at how obvious it was . . . and how much it explained. So that’s how he does it! Even she couldn’t say if the mental outburst felt more affectionate, triumphant, or something else entirely.
“Find anything?” Lois asked, pushing the emotions along with the gabbling voices in her head to the back of her mind.
Fumbling suddenly, Clark readjusted his glasses and faced her.
“N-nothing,” he said.
Initial disappointment from his answer stopped as Lois noticed him fidgeting and still looking at a place against the far blank wall, which was devoid of any visible thing of interest.
“Oh,” Lois said, glancing at him to the wall and back. “Well, I’ll go peek out to make sure our way is clear, and we can leave.”
She deliberately turned her back and walked towards the closed door. She could feel Clark’s eyes on her back as she opened the door, poked her head out, and then actually stepped completely out.
She kept the door open but a sliver behind her, her hand on the doorknob.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven . . . .
“Lois?”
Bingo.
Lois stepped back inside the room to see Clark standing there, a sheath of papers in his hands. Behind him a small panel that had been invisible to her eye had opened, but was now empty.
Ha! She could read him like a book, that was for sure.
She couldn’t wait until they could just work together, though, without all of this nonsense.
“How did you find that?” Lois asked the expected question perfunctorily, trying to appear surprised.
“Well, L-lois, I—uh—”
Lois used her famed impatience for her partner to save him from having to stumble awkwardly over a lousy, made-up story.
Some other time she might consider it fair consequence for his long-time reluctance to tell her, but right now she just wanted to get out of here.
“Never mind. What is it?” she interrupted him.
Besides, she didn’t like to see Kal-El lie to her. Even if he meant it for the best, it was too painful for her—and she thought she could see it was painful for him, too.
He opened his mouth, but she overrode him again. “No, wait. Never mind again. Let’s just go. We can read them in the car, okay?”
They’d spent enough time here.
---------------------------------------------
“Cats,” Clark said grimly as Lois pulled her jeep out of the parking lot. They didn’t want to stay close to anything Luthor longer then they absolutely had to.
“What?” Lois asked.
“He was experimenting on cats. It’s all here, even if half of it is a bunch of medical jargon. Looks like he tried near everything in the book on them.” He tossed the thick folder onto his lap, and Lois glanced over to see the files—each page with a small picture of a cat taped to the top. Clark bowed his head and rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.
“What is it?” Lois said, immediately concerned.
“Huh?” Clark looked up at her. “Oh, nothing. I . . . something’s just itching at the back of my mind. I’m just trying to remember what—”
“Hold it!” Lois said, suddenly swerving into an open parking space on the side of the road. The driver behind her blared his horn angrily. Lois didn’t even bother with a returning curse, but just jerked to a stop, put the car into park, and pulled out her purse. She caught hold of a now wrinkled and dog-eared packet of papers and began flipping through it, scanning quickly.
“Lois, what—?”
“Inhumane research on stray cats,” Lois said, jabbing a finger at a note in the margin of Clark’s well-used list of his suspicions on Luthor’s activities. “Clark, this is some of your notes on Lex you accidentally left behind. Do you think it’s connected?”
Clark took the paper from her slowly, frowning at the note scribbled in on his own handwriting. He’d made the note over two months ago, when he’d picked up a hint that a number of cats were disappearing from around the city. Some deeper looking into the problem had revealed that strays were going missing in even larger quantities. Clark had managed to catch two of the cat-snatchers in the act, had overheard Luthor’s name, and had followed them to a lab. He’d taken the place down, but hadn’t found any evidence on Luthor—the man was just too slippery. Yet . . . .
“I’ve got some notes and stuff I copied from the labs,” Clark said. “They’re at my place, if you want to—”
But he didn’t have the time to finish the question. Lois’s jeep wheels squealed as she shot out of the parking space, causing another driver to slam on his brakes and lean on his horn as he fired curses after her.
“L-Lo-is!” Clark stuttered.
Lois couldn’t help but laugh at his panicked expression as he was plastered back against his seat from the acceleration. Come on, Clark. You’re invincible. Besides, you of all people should know that this is not all that fast, Mr. Faster-than-a-Speeding-Bullet despite the fact that you probably learned to drive in an old, dusty tractor on some bumpy back-road in Nowheresville.
“Come on, Smallville,” Lois said, darting between two slower cars into another lane and eliciting another loud honk behind her. “I’m just trying to get us to your apartment before dinner time.”
“A-all you’re going to get us is a ticket,” Clark returned. “Besides, it’s barely lunchtime.” Lois grinned at him, not caring if her cheery attitude confused the poor man.
She knew Superman was all right. She was Superman’s partner, for crying out loud. He was going to be okay, the investigation on Luthor was finally making some headway, and come this evening all the cards were going to be on the table between herself and Kal-Super-Clark-El Krypt-ville Kentman.
What?
Lois shook her head. Keep this up and she was going to have mashed potatoes for brains.
She glanced over at Clark, her elation sobering somewhat as she looked at his features. Still a bit drawn, definitely worried—goodness, the man had to be the greatest brooder she had ever met. He seemed to be enjoying the sun on his face from the open window. How much did he need, these days? Should she make some excuse to stop at a park so he can get out and sun a bit before they went on again? He might not have made it too obvious how much he needed it the past few days, but she hadn’t really been paying attention and, honestly, today was the best he’d looked in a long time. She didn’t want him to overdo himself.
Clark seemed to sense her gaze on him and turned his face.
“Y-you need to be more careful, Lois,” he said.
“What?” Lois took a sharp left turn.
“Driving,” Clark said with a hint of a smile in his voice despite his concern—she figured she would have missed it if she hadn’t heard Kal-El’s inflection in the tone. “You’re not Superman, you know.”
Oh, ho! You think you’re so clever, mister.
How often had he made such horrible jokes without her being able to notice the irony of it all?
“But apparently you think you are,” Lois replied calmly. She had to stifle the sudden urge to giggle at the wide-eyed, farm-boy awkward expression that came over his face as he stared at her in confusion. He blinked, adjusted his glasses, and shifted in his coat before giving a small, nervous, hint of a sideways grin.
“W-why do you say that, Lois?”
“Goodness, Clark. Have you ever looked at yourself? When was the last time you took a break? You’re either out busting bad guys with me, saving cats and little kids from trees, or helping old ladies across the street. No doubt the whole time you were in Smallville you were helping your mom with the farm or anything else you could possibly think of. There isn’t a more selfless, honest, determined-to-do-good boy scout in the world—and that includes Superman. Trust me, I know.”
Then why why why had she been so blind to who he was? It was so obvious!
Clark looked absolutely speechless—and was that a blush in his cheeks as that grin couldn’t help but grow just a little bit?
Yep.
“T-thanks, Lois.” He said it softly, sincerely, and Lois felt her heart ache as she realized how much the simple, teasing words really meant to him.
“Well, it’s true,” Lois finished, not knowing what else to say as her thoughts took off again. She fell silent as she let her fun at watching Kal-El squirm slip away.
Clark gave her a crooked smile and looked back out the window, the wind brushing back his hair, and Lois glanced over to catch a brief glimpse of what might have been the famous curl before it was swept back into his hair.
Oh my gosh.
That had been Kal-El that she had been lecturing those days before, about how he should grow a backbone and be able to ask. Lois had a sudden urge to burst into insane laughter.
These sudden kicks in the gut were not becoming any gentler. They certainly were beginning to work on her sanity, that was for sure.
It was better than guilt, though. Had insisting the window stay up kept him from the sunlight he had needed?
Curse this whole situation.
She jerked to a stop in a space in front of his apartment and jumped out. They both headed up the stairs. Lois watched carefully to make sure he wasn’t limping.
Good.
But she knew better than any that the worst scars weren’t on the outside.
“How are you doing, Clark?”
“Huh?”
Lois didn’t meet his gaze—keeping her eyes on the steps as she moved upwards. It was beginning to hit her how utterly unfeeling she really had been towards Clark Kent—and it didn’t matter that it turned out that he was Superman. Her actions towards him had been completely uncaring and made her stutter with shame as she remembered. “W-well, you know. It’s been a hard couple weeks for you. First, with Bureau 39, then with your dad. . . You haven’t had a break.”
Clark stared at her, his dark eyes reflecting a flash of pain at memories, a moment of confusion, and then his brow furrowed and concern took it’s place.
“I-I’m fine,” he said. “A-are you okay? You . . .you’re . . . well . . . .”
Acting kind of funny.
“I’m just spiffy,” Lois replied, then winced at the word choice. Where did that come from? Clark’s eyebrow rose at her word choice.
“Spiffy?” he repeated.
“Well, you know, yeah . . . spiffy,” Lois shrugged. They reached Clark’s door and Clark unlocked it and held it open for her to enter first before stepping in behind her and closing the door.
“Would you like some coffee, Lois? I could make some up really quick, if you like.”
How fast could Superman make up a batch of coffee, Lois wondered.
“No. Let’s just look over this and see if there’s anything of use. If we can cover enough bases tonight I . . . well, I kind of fixed us a picnic. I thought we could go to the park for lunch or something.” Clark stared at her as if she had gone full-on insane and she spoke quickly. “Well, I put everything in the cooler, anyway. The lemonade is from the store and the sandwiches were ready-made, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” she finished defensively. She put her hands on her hips, flustered. “Where are these notes of yours?”
Clark started and tripped on his own shoes as he turned—it looked too ridiculous to be an accident, and that amused Lois to no end as he adjusted his glasses with a murmured apology, a touch of red in his cheeks. “Just . . . uh, in my bedroom. Just a sec.”
Lois waited, looking around the fully-lighted room as she listened to Clark moving in his room. She hadn’t found the notes while she had been searching, and she wondered distractedly where he had hid them.
The apartment looked so different in the full light of day. Sunlight streamed through the windows, settling comfortably on the couches, the bookshelves, the picture-frames and other odds and ends that Clark had collected over his travels. Lois decided she couldn’t have thought of a more fitting place for Superman to live, no matter what her imagination might have cooked up before she had come to really know the man inside the suit.
“Here we are,” Clark said, coming back with a folder in his hand. He pulled out a smaller packet and handed it to her. “There’s not much, though.”
Lois took the papers and sat down at the couch. Clark hovered for a moment, then stepped forward to sit on the couch across from her.
“Sit here, Clark,” Lois said, scooting over a bit to make more room. “You can’t see the papers from way over there.”
And that was the reason. Really.
Right.
Well, she supposed he could have seen the papers from over there. He could probably even read them—through the paper and all. Or was it even possible to read letters printed on paper you were scanning through?
“Thanks,” Clark said, sitting next to her. His leg brushed hers and he apologized and moved further over. Lois wanted to tell him that she didn’t mind, but decided that would give raise to his suspicions far too much.
Well, this isn’t awkward at all, Lois thought dryly.
Clark was right—there really wasn’t much in the papers. Just a few pictures of the lab he had found, some names of the doctors and thugs involved—but nothing rang a bell or even looked vaguely familiar. Lois frowned, not happy that this latest lead wasn’t leading anywhere. Her stomach growled, though not loud enough for any normal man to hear.
Right on cue, “Can I get you something, Lois? To eat, I mean?”
Lois sighed and dropped the papers down on his coffee table, sitting back to rub her forehead. The high of progress in the chase was wearing off, and she was once again beginning to feel the effects of lack of sleep from the night before.
“No, Clark, that’s all right,” she said, rubbing her temples. Clark leaned forward, gathering up the papers that had been laid out over the coffee table during Lois’s search. “I just was so sure . . . .”
She trailed off. Clark finished gathering the papers. “W-we can look further into this, Lois. There’s a lot here that may have connections and we just haven’t seen it yet.”
“I just feel so close,” Lois grumbled.
“We’ll take this back to the Planet and look over it,” Clark said. “We might find some connections.”
Lois couldn’t help but smile at his optimistic tone, though she kept her head bowed so he couldn’t see it. When she lifted her head, there was only a small quirk at her lips.
“We can do that later,” she said. “I’m starving. Are you hungry?”
Clark shrugged, the sunlight from the window resting on his head. “Sure.”
“Good. Come on. I’ve been stuck inside too much and it’s time we both take a break.” They both deserved it, after all.
Lois stood, taking her purse back in hand. Her hand shook slightly on the handle, so she held it close as she took a deep breath.
This was it. If everything went according to plan and Clark took the opportunity she was presenting him then in a matter of minutes it would all be out in the open. How would he tell her? What would he say, exactly? What would shesay? And once it was all out in the open, what would they do?
Superman would take it in stride. Kal-El would probably want to sweep her off her feet and go flying. Clark . . .
That was the most important question. What in the world would Clark Kent do?
Lois and turned to face Clark. He had stood behind her, and she found herself close, looking up into his face. Suddenly breathless, the words she had been about to say fell dead and she just stared as memories slammed into her with the force of a flashflood.
She saw him, like she had the first time she had seen Superman as he darted into the space station and swallowed a bomb—saving her life and all others on board. She saw him, curled up and pale in the white room but still managing to smile—just for her. She saw him, sitting across from her desk day after day, always ready to help her despite how often she had shrugged him off.
Please let this work out all right.
“L-Lois? Wh-what is it?” Clark asked nervously, adjusting his glasses.
Lois swallowed, remembering their kiss early that morning, before Kal-El had left her. Before Clark had left her.
She had known who he was, then, and she had kissed him—Superman, Kal-El, and Clark. The whole package.
She had kissed Clark Kent. And it had been beautiful.
“N-nothing, Clark,” she said with forced carelessness, tearing her eyes away from him. “Come on. I’ll drive us to Central Park and we can eat there. I know the perfect place.”
And she led the way to the door, unable to look at him again unless she couldn’t stop the emotion threatening to pour out of her, but having to exert her whole will-power not to do so.
And then it hit her. It hit her so hard she almost staggered, yet at the same time some corner of her mind laughed at the thought that she hadn’t really recognized it until then.
It was so simple. Stupid, foolhearty, clutzy-farmboy and all . . . She loved him.
She loved Clark Kent.
It was ridiculous. It made her want to laugh. It made her want to break down into tears of joy mixed with relief . . . but she couldn’t yet. They had to put all the cards on the table—but before that, they both had to acknowledge that they had cards, and were playing the same game.
Please let this work out all right.
She didn’t know if she could bear waiting any longer.
TBC . . .
PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!
