Her dress should have been soaked through, but she hadn’t woken up with a chill or smelling damp and musky. After hanging up her towel, she took her dress out of the laundry basket. The dress was dry. How was that possible? She put on her nightshirt and went back to her living room and felt her futon. Dry. She picked up her shoes, sopping wet and dripping on her carpet. She threw them in the trash.
Why did he dry her dress but not her shoes?
Who was he? She knew without a doubt that those strong arms belonged to a man. A man who smelled of smoke.
Someone who left her fully dressed after depositing her back home...
Had been in her apartment. Could have done whatever he pleased with her. Could come back. She shivered again with that thought, dislodging the tears.
Again, she had been dressed. Although, he might have redressed her after the fact, but that seems not *that* likely. Also, how would he get a key, unless he has a key-print-set?
“I don’t know how I got home last night. The thought terrifies me. I couldn’t sleep. Look!” She held up her visibly shaking hands. “I’m a nervous wreck.”
/sputters/
She looked up from her hands into his eyes and saw fear. Was he reflecting her thoughts with his eyes or was he scared of her?
Yes, he's sacred. Not of her. but that her memory might return.
“I’m not a drinker. And I don’t do drugs,” she snapped, pushing herself to her feet again.
A reasonable assertion, but in light of the events and persons involved, hilarious.
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed and appeared dismayed. “Do you really think he would hurt you? I mean, someone – this imaginary man – went out of his way to bring you home, safe and sound. That doesn’t sound like someone to be scared of, does it?”
Lois’s brow furrowed. “Are you defending him?”
Clark stood up and took a step backwards. “No. No. No,”
Yes yes yes.
“You probably got yourself home last night and the bump on your head caused you to black it out. Makes more sense than some mysterious hero who saved you, flew you back to your apartment, placed you on the bed to sleep and then left, doesn’t it?” Clark raised his brows. “Maybe not as romantic, or terrifying, as the case may be, but more logical.”
Uh-huh...
Lois pressed her lips together. “Thank you, Spock.”
Oooh, Smalltown *and* a nerd.
She bent down over her magazines again and found some pieces of plastic. She was about to toss them into the trash when she noticed the security sensors and price labels. “Oh, great. Someone’s been using my receiving room to steal CDs.” She sighed.
What's up with that now?
“Well, telling me that someone ‘needs a warning label’ is kind of a vague indication of his true nature. A bright red skull and crossbones tattooed on his forehead would have worked better.”
And she's right. Cat's remark is more like 'scalding hot and fun' instead of 'best dunked into scalding hot hydrochloric acid if you want to see something fun'.
“So has he been bragging that he ditched me with the bill at Carlton House last night?”
Perry looked away. “Ah. No, not exactly.”
Lois froze.
“What you do in your off hours, Lois, is none…”
Oh dear.
Her boss grinned at her. “There’s the fire you need to show your co-workers. Show them your mad dog face.”
“What?”
“Show them your mad dog face. Let me see ‘Mad Dog Lane’.”
“ ‘Mad Dog Lane’?” she repeated, incredulously.
Yes, where did Mad Dog come from?
Lois, I wouldn’t have hired you on here if I didn’t think you could stand up to these guys.
What's their history? And Perry really is awfully protective for a store manager to his newest employee.
She rolled her eyes at him and then barked.
“Aw. What a cute little puppy. Try again.”
Lois was getting annoyed by this line of discussion with her boss. She was the victim here. She snarled at him again.
“Better. Again.”
Her eyes went wide as her tongue went over her front teeth. She scowled at him with a louder growl.
“They can’t hear you on the first floor. Again.”
Yippy! She heard her mind shout from inside its box.
Always loved Lois battling with her mind. Having itself shut down, having Lois put it into boxes. Pushing it into Clark's lap. Did I mention her mind's fun when it's a self-aware entity?
“I promise you, the owners of this café would never force you to wash a single dish.” He smiled, but Lois’s heart hit her knees.
He knows? Even her inner passionate side was appalled.
The first time around, I just figured gossip. But now I'm thinking Lois babbled in her half-concussed state when he brought her home, since she probably never told about *that* part of the story.
Her inner voice had obviously pushed Lois off the top of her box. Lois couldn’t stay here with her inner passionate side loose. Out of control and wanting Clark. She couldn’t be anywhere near him. Who knew what she might do or say?
"I have a bed in my apartment and a pool out front?"
And to note this again: The bit about Lois setting up her revenge was marvelously concealed. I completely forgot about it amidst the rest of the hubbub. Great way to set things up.
Michael
But -- good catch -- this apartment building is based on the one where I used to live in L.A.
