[CHAPTER 20]
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We must always tell what we see. Above all, and this is more difficult, we must always see what we see. --Charles Peguy
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Thursday
After returning from his lunch break, Clark navigated his way through the newsroom until he reached his new workstation. By the time he had arrived to the Planet on Monday morning, his desk had been moved from Lois’s corner. By Wednesday, he had officially become the floor pariah. It appeared that when the tension occurred between he and Lois, her seniority and familiarity earned her home court advantage.
It also hadn’t helped any that their faces were plastered all over the city on posters and billboards. There was even a life-size cutout in the lobby extolling the wondrous bankability of their ‘golden’ partnership.
Without looking up from the papers on his desk, Clark addressed the person that was hovering a few feet behind him. “If you have something to say, say it – if not, then there’s really no use in you standing there.”
Jimmy Olsen shifted his weight awkwardly as he contemplated going about his business. Almost as an afterthought, he sucked in a breath and walked around to the front of Clark’s desk. Clark had been getting more and more acerbic by the day – the glimpses of personality that had won over most of the staff had started to fade back into the stiff and reserved persona that he had arrived in Metropolis with.
“What is it, Jimmy?” Clark asked, sighing and finally looking up at his visitor.
“I, uh… Listen, CK, I know that things have gone kind of polar around here since you and Lois… well, stopped being you and Lois.” The younger man cleared his throat at the hard look he was rewarded with for his attempt at humor. “Yeah, ok, so… I just wanted to let you know that it’ll pass. Right now, it’s like a divorce – you know, the big debate over who gets the house, the kids… the friends.”
Jimmy turned slightly and made a gesture toward the newsroom at large. “Any other time, most of them are jealous of Lois, but in a spot, she’s one of them. You know what I’m saying?”
“Sure. You’re saying that my presence boosts her appeal. That’s my career aspiration - I can now die happy,” Clark returned flatly.
Jimmy looked disappointed and hurt at the same time. “Right. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here. If you need anything, just… shout or… whatever.” Shaking his head, the young copy boy turned and walked away.
Clark thought about the look that had been on Jimmy’s face and closed his eyes. He was disappointed in himself too. The slide back into this personality was comfortable – natural, even – and yet the ease with which he was putting up those walls was alarming.
But this was what he wanted… Wasn’t it?
In the end, Clark decided that ultimately, it didn’t matter. He had responsibilities and he had to take care of them the best way he knew how. His only saving grace was the fact that without a super alter-ego to worry about, he had one less anxiety left on his plate.
Taking a curious glance around the newsroom, he frowned slightly when he noticed that Lois was in a heated conversation with their boss.
He sighed and amended his previous thought. Two less. Lois was no longer his concern either.
And that was definitely what he wanted.
~.~
Sunday
“Your father and I are flying out Friday morning – you said you would be there Thursday night, right?”
“Thursday afternoon.”
Samuel Lane’s eyes narrowed briefly as he heard the hint of panic that had entered his daughter’s tone. They’d finished the dinner’s main courses and were now standing outside on the deck drinking coffee. In accordance with the family’s unspoken law, there had been no discussion of work topics during the meal, and now that they were done eating, this was the first time they were approaching a work-related conversation.
And, Sam thought curiously, it was causing his oldest daughter to… well… twitter.
Ellen continued to speak. “Thursday,” she repeated happily. “Well that gives you a little time to rest before the awards ceremony on Friday night.” The older woman’s face brightened as an idea came to her. “You know what? You should call your cousin! The two of you could have dinner. She is coming to the ceremony, isn’t she?”
“Uh, actually, she’s going to be out of town this weekend,” Lois replied.
Ellen’s face scrunched in disappointment. “That’s too bad. It’s not every day we get out to D.C.”
“Lucy’s flight gets in after ours so we’ll pick her up and all come to the banquet hall together,” Sam announced before taking another sip from his cup. “So, Lo, how *is* work?”
An aggravated expression flickered across Lois’s visage, but true to form, she fixed it before it had been there long enough to register. “Fine.”
Sam glanced over to his wife, but since she had been inspecting a potted fern, she had missed the look on their daughter’s face.
“Fine?” Ellen straightened and turned with a proud smile. “That has got to be an understatement for someone who just learned a week ago that she won a *Pulitzer* for distinguished achievement in journalism.”
“It’s just an award, Mom,” Lois answered quietly while shaking her head.
This time, Ellen’s gaze was waiting when Sam glanced at her. He raised his eyebrows to convey his own confused concern.
“Just an award? Honey, it’s the highest honor…”
“It’s *just* an award, Mom,” Lois forcibly interrupted.
Lois placed her coffee cup down on the thick wooden deck banister, but not before Sam noticed the slight shaking in her hand. She turned away from both of her parents and leaned against the railing.
Ellen seemed to be taking a moment to recover from Lois’s mood so Sam cleared his throat. “It doesn’t sound to me like work is fine. What’s wrong?”
Lois scoffed. “What’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” She turned her head to smirk in her father’s direction. “Why would anything be wrong?”
“Because you’re being a smartass.”
“Samuel!”
He gave his wife a semi-apologetic look but turned a hard eye on Lois. “Whatever your problem is Lois, it doesn’t mean that you take it out on everyone else.”
He saw her jaw tighten and sighed under his breath. Sometimes he forgot how like him she was.
“You asked. I answered. I’m sorry if that makes me a smartass.”
… And then other times, he was reminded how like him she was.
“Lois!”
Lois uncrossed her arms and turned to face her mother. “Oh, and Mom, I’m sorry if I can’t drum up a sufficient amount of enthusiasm for some piece of tin and a paper certificate that has made my life a living hell.”
Ellen’s expression steeled as she reeled back from her daughter’s outburst. “Lois, what are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. Have you seen the commercials? The billboard? Or better yet, what about the full page layout in the front section of the Planet - *every day* this week?”
“So, your place of employment’s attempt at celebrating the accomplishments of two of its own is your problem?” the confused mother asked.
“My problem? No, my problem is that it’s a lie.”
Sam frowned. “The Pulitzer is a lie?”
“Not the award,” Lois exclaimed with raised hands. “The partnership! Lois and Clark – Lane and Kent. Truth and lies.” She pushed away from the deck railing and started to stalk toward the patio door.
Ellen reached for her arm before she could get past them. “Did something happen between you and Clark?”
Lois laughed dryly. “I haven’t talked to Clark in a week; that kind of prevents anything from happening, don’t you think? We don’t work together anymore, I haven’t seen Jory, and there is no partnership…in *any* sense of the word. I’m not even sure there ever was.” She gave her mother a wild smile. “So all of your concerns last week – the whole life where there is no life spiel – are null and void. I told you there was nothing there. Happy? My life is my own.”
Lois blinked and seemed to mentally lower her hackles. “You know what? I’m really tired. I’m sorry. It’s been a long week. Thanks for dinner.”
Sam stepped up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders as they watched their daughter disappear into the house.
When they heard the front door slam shut, Ellen turned her head to look over her shoulder at her husband in awe. After sharing a look for a few seconds, her expression morphed into one of comprehension. “Oh.”
Ellen pulled away so she could turn around and face him fully. “Oh my… But last week… I mean, I thought maybe… but she was so adamant!” She met Sam’s gaze again. “You don’t think that what I said… I mean, I just chocked it off to over-maternal instinct…”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Oh no.” When she opened her eyes again, resignation was now mixed in with the comprehension. “I didn’t realize.”
Sam smiled sympathetically and reached for his wife’s hands, placing them on his chest. “If it’s any consolation, dear, I don’t think she realizes it either.”
~.~
Lois stood in the middle of her living room with her hands on her hips. She was so amped up that it was taking all of her focus to just stand still.
At the sound of her cell phone ringing she relaxed her posture and rolled her head around to stretch her neck. Then she let out a breath and moved to the couch to get the phone from her purse. From the ringtone, she knew who it was.
“Hey, Luce.”
“Hey Sis. How was dinner?”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Did Mom tell you to call me?”
She heard Lucy chuckle softly. “Actually, no. It was more like what she *didn’t* say that alerted me to the fact that I needed to call you.”
“I’m just a little stressed and got hyper-stimulated from the after-dinner espresso. That’s all.”
“Wow. That’s some self-diagnosis.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been quite a week at work. I had a story go down in flames and the award hoopla just makes things tense. The rule is: you’re only as good as your next story, but if you’re last story was a major pull, then your next one is only good if it’s better…”
“Okay! Slow down. I get it!” Lucy entered. “Lay off the espresso.”
Lois let out a slow breath and dropped down to sit on the sofa. “You’re telling me.”
“So what’s this really about?”
“I told you…”
“Right, caffeine and awards - got it. That’s the cover story, but I think the root of it is my nephew.”
Lois blinked. “Your what?”
“My nephew,” Lucy responded, simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “You know, the adorable dark headed toddler that I get weekly updates from our mother about. I just figured that you’d adopted him.”
Lois was surprised by a couple of things. First was the fact that her mother had been telling Lucy about Jory – her mother was more attached than Lois had realized. Second was the fact that just talking about him hurt so much – Lois missed him more than she had realized.
…So much so that she found herself unable to speak.
Lucy was using the word adoption as a joke, but for some reason it had shaken Lois’s core.
“Lo? You there?”
Lois cleared her throat. “Yeah.”
The line was quiet for a moment as Lucy seemed to know that Lois needed it.
“So, what happened?” the younger woman asked softly.
Lois closed her eyes and leaned back into the couch. “You know Mom. She got some crazy idea in her head – she voiced it, Clark overheard all the worst parts – then we argued. End of story.”
“Huh.”
“What does ‘huh’ mean?”
“Just that I don’t think that’s the end of the story.”
Lois let out another sigh.
Lucy apparently thought that was a sign of admission. “What exactly was Mom’s crazy idea?”
Lois opened her eyes so she could roll them. “Mom…” She scoffed and started again. “She pulls me aside with this crazy talk about how I need to mind my own business. She figured that with me spending so much of my time with Clark and Jory, I was taking away from her chances of having grandchildren.”
On the other end of the line, Lucy snorted. “Mom actually said that?” she asked with a doubtful tone.
Lois moved her jaw in indignation. “It was what she *intoned*.”
“Intoned, Lois?”
“It’s what she wanted to say, Lucy. She was going on and on about how I was wasting my time, that he was emotionally unavailable, and that I was basically the nanny – *all* while not hearing me when I tried to tell her that Clark was my * partner*, that it was complicated, and that I wasn’t in love with him. I mean, come on Luce. I work with him – there are rules – *I* have rules against that.”
“I know you do,” Lucy answered quietly.
Lois went on, “And a freaking nanny? What *is* that? She loves that kid just as much as I do but I don’t call her out as Mary Poppins!”
“So what was the fight about?”
Lois’s rant stuttered to a halt. “Clark felt that Mom was right. That I – apparently – needed his size 15s to show me the way to get a life.”
“You know his shoe size?”
“It’s a generalization, Lucy,” Lois drawled.
…There was no need to admit that it was also fact.
“He ended your partnership?”
“Yes. No… It was mutual.”
“Wait, let me get this straight. He overheard Mom’s warning about the emotional stuff and then you both decided to no longer work together… or to be friends.”
“Right – because according to Mother, I am too attached to Jory, and according to Clark, Jory is too attached to me. That’s a problem for Clark because it somehow threatens his own ability to parent his kid – if he’s in fact even decided to step up and do that,” she ended under her breath.
“You Maguired it.”
“I *what* it?”
Lucy laughed. “Maguire – as in Jerry. Tom Cruise and that chick who squints all the time. You know…”
Lois frowned. She didn’t like where this was going. “Renee Zellweger.”
“Yes! Bridget Jones – I don’t know how I forgot that.”
“So I’m Renee?” Lois asked.
“No, you’re Tom. You love the kid but it’s not enough to sustain the relationship.”
Lois pulled the phone away to momentarily stare at it in confusion. “You mean *partnership*,” she corrected when the phone was back to her ear.
“No, I said what I meant.”
“See, that’s where your theory falls flat, Dr. Lane – if it weren’t already busted, that is. There’s no relationship – *was* no relationship – between us. I love the kid – and *that* should have been enough for that.”
“Well, *that* was the problem. You like eggs but don’t want the chicken.”
Lois tried to follow that logic but got lost. “If you’re going to keep talking in parables, we’re done. I don’t need the psych-babble tonight – I want to talk to my sister.”
“Okay! Sorry. Look – what I’m saying is, you can’t have one without the other. You love Jory unabashedly and unconditionally but deny any feelings toward his father. In Clark’s mind, something had to give.”
“He doesn’t… he didn’t… It wasn’t like that. You don’t know him. If we were on the same page with anything, it was that. Neither of us was looking for love. Ever. I mean, he flat out said it, so even if it were a possibility, it wasn’t a possibility.”
“What?”
Lois took a breath. “What I’m trying to say is... it wasn’t like that.”
“You said that already,” Lucy pointed out.
“It’s complicated.”
“You already said that too.”
“Lucy… We worked together, we worked *well* together. Hell, we even argued well together, but it wasn’t formed to be some epic… whatever – it was just what it was, and that was okay.”
The younger Lane was quiet for a minute. “Oh hell!”
Lois frowned at her sister’s sudden exclamation. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Lucy… I have no qualms about hanging up on you right now.” Lois heard her sister sigh and again had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like where this was going. If Lucy was hesitating on revealing her thoughts to her then there was probably good reason to not hear them… yet, curiosity and all… “Spill.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but first you have to promise me that you won’t do anything rash.”
“Rash?”
“As in spontaneously bad.”
“Lucy.” Lois narrowed her eyes, wishing her sister was actually present instead of on the phone. …That way she could wring her neck.
“No, Lois, I’m serious. What I’m about to say is really something that should be part of a physical sister intervention, not a phone call…” Lucy must have been thinking the same thing about their proximity. “…But I know if I don’t say it you’re going to hound me because you know there is something I have to say. I'll be there on Friday, and then we can do the whole sister hash-out, okay?”
“You’re babbling,” Lois announced, ignoring the fact that she had done the same numerous times during the phone call.
“Promise – nothing rash.”
“Whatever, Luce. Now spill.”
“Okay. I was just thinking about the Jerry Maguire thing, and how your situation fit the beginning of the movie… then it hit me. You fit the end as well.”
And they were back to the parables. “The end? I don’t get it? He loves the kid, they break up…”
…And then he comes back.
Lois’s mind froze. “Don’t say it.”
Lucy knew she had figured it out… and Lois’s expected reaction was what had caused her earlier exclamation. “You can’t hide from it, Lois. Not now that you know.”
“I don’t know anything,” Lois replied succinctly. “And neither do you.”
“Lois, I know you never thought it would happen… in fact, I’m pretty sure you did everything to prevent it from happening, but sometimes…”
“*Don’t* say it,” Lois cautioned again.
“Lois, you’re in love with him. Suck it up and deal with it.”
Lois responded by hanging up the phone.
~.~
Wednesday
Lois checked the clock on her computer screen to see if it were time for her to go home. She’d been having a bad day… for an entire week. She had spent the morning counting the hours until she could leave because once she did, her work week would essentially be over. She was looking forward to getting on that plane the following afternoon and leaving Metropolis and all of its problems behind.
What had started at her parent’s house and in her conversation with her sister on Sunday night had extended into her Monday, Tuesday, *and* Wednesday. First of all, she blamed her mother for planting seeds about some nonexistent love affair that she supposedly had with her work partner. Secondly, she blamed Lucy for siding with their mother and buying into the absurdity of the idea.
Finally, she blamed herself – for not having seen it all coming. Everyone else seemed to have.
Lois lived her life reading signs and stringing together pieces of information in order to spell out full stories. As luck would have it, where she was an expert in reading other people, she had totally been blind to what was going on in her own deceitful heart. She was a traitor. She had betrayed herself.
Falling in love was something Lois had scheduled to do on her own time. There was a process she was supposed to follow – a twelve step plan, even – and the very first rule to having a plan was that you had to follow it.
And now, it was as if someone had taken her plan, put it on a marksman’s target, and shot it to hell.
She didn’t want to be in love with Clark Kent, he didn’t *deserve* for her to have fallen in love with him… and yet, somewhere along the timeline of meeting his parents and getting him to accept his powers and his purpose she had slipped – and fallen head over heels.
She had fallen in love with the smile that he’d finally started to use with ease. With the vulnerability that only she had been privy to see. She had seen the amazing things he could do, the amazing extent of his desire to right the wrongs of the world… and then she had seen the evil that had taken that all away.
She knew he had trust issues – she *understood* his trust issues, and yet she had somehow found a way to slip beyond those walls and draw out the real person who lived behind them. And in slipping beyond those walls, she had unconsciously lowered her own.
She was irrevocably in love with Clark Kent.
That thought caused her to sigh out loud.
She had the irrational urge to swivel around in her chair so she could scan the newsroom but knew there would be no way she could do it without her intentions being obvious. Not that the act would have mattered – he wasn’t there.
In fact, *he* hadn’t been around for more than a few minutes at a time each day that week. Somehow, in addition to stabbing her in the heart, Fate had stabbed her in the back. Not only was she mending a broken heart that shouldn’t have ever been in jeopardy, her work – what should have been her release – was, well… not working.
None of her sources were coming through, she couldn’t safely seek out leads on the Luthor front, and none of her rainy day folders were looking feasible. It was as if the bottom of everything had fallen out at once, and what made the entire thing unbearable was the fact that she was suffering alone. Clark’s continual disappearing act – Superman was incapacitated at the moment so it wasn’t that – meant that he actually *was* getting some work done.
The inside-outness of her world should have infuriated her. The fact that Clark was active and she wasn’t should have kicked her into action. She should have been motivated to carpe diem, to never give in, to give one for the gipper – and all the other “go-fight-win” sayings – but she was actually relieved to sit back and not have to fight against the stream for one day… okay, for three days… in her life.
The good part was that Clark’s being out working meant that he wasn’t in the newsroom where they would have had to actively avoid each other. The week before had been hard enough. It was much easier to steer clear of someone who wasn’t around to evade.
The bad part was that it gave her plenty more time to idly sit and wonder just when, where, and how her heart had jumped from her chest and started making its own alliances.
“Lois, the tribe has spoken,” she muttered to herself in disgust.
She was the walking epitome of all of the characters who had skipped down the Yellow Brick Road. Her brain went one way while her heart went another; she was running from her own tail and all of it left her feeling like she was baseless – falling through the sky and wondering if she’d ever find her way home.
Lois picked up her cell phone when a beeping sound alerted her to the fact that she’d missed a call – something that wasn’t surprising since she’d turned her ringer off… purposely. Sighing at the identity of the caller, she pressed the keys to access her voicemail.
“Okay, maybe ‘suck it up’ wasn’t the best way to end our conversation last time, so I’m apologizing,” Lucy’s voice began. “I’m actually thinking that the tough-love approach was a little strong-armed given the situation. I mean, this is a whole new world for you and I should have realized that… but it’s been three days, Lois. Knowing you as I do, I know that even while you refuse to talk to me, you *are* listening to your voicemail. So listen when I say this: it’s not going away, Lo. By this time you have realized that I was right about the love thing, so know that I’m right about the deal-with-it thing. The longer you put it off, the more it’s going to hurt like a bitch… Okay, I’ll see you in a few days. Love ya.”
Lois thumbed off the phone and dropped it onto her desk.
She contemplated her sister’s words and wondered if there were actual progressive levels to hurting like a bitch. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
Taking another look at the clock, Lois decided that it was time to go regardless. Just sitting at her desk watching time and life – or something like it – pass her by wasn’t worth it to her or her employer.
Standing, Lois began gathering her things together so she could leave.
~.~
tbc
