What Do You See?
by Peace
Lois was happy. Life was looking better and better. Last night
when she'd stopped Clark from moving away from Metropolis, when
she'd pushed Dan Scardino out of her life once and for all, and had
gone to Clark and kissed him with all the passion in her soul, he
had looked in her eyes and said, "I'm not gonna run, Lois. I'm
ready to take the next step, if you are." And then he'd kissed
her, a kiss that had reached into the depths of her heart, and it
had taken ever bit of willpower she had to keep from throwing him
on the floor and taking him -- right in the middle of the packing
boxes. But she wanted their first time together to be sweet and
special -- and for all his brave words about taking the next step,
Lois had the feeling sex would have been a step or two beyond where
he was ready to go.
Tonight was going to have to be a quick dinner together, because
she had notes to go over and had to get to bed early tonight --
alone -- to be up in time for an early morning press conference
with the mayor. So it wouldn't be tonight, either -- this was not
going to be rushed, any more than it was going to happen in the
middle of packing boxes. But tomorrow was Saturday, and
tomorrow... oh, Clark had just better watch out tomorrow! The
thought of it made her snuggle happily against his shoulder as they
waited for the elevator that would whisk them out of the DP
newsroom, and then with a wicked gleam in her eye, she reached up
to whisper in his ear, just to hint at what was in store for him
tomorrow.
Her position by his side, with her lips against his ear, kept
her from seeing how his eyes drifted shut at her words, how he
chewed on his lower lip and struggled for composure.
Unfortunately, it also prevented her from seeing the anguish on his
face when a fire alarm that only he could hear invaded his
supersenses, followed quickly by another and then another -- a
three-alarm blaze, only slightly cooler than the heat between them
at that moment. Lois felt him suddenly pull away from her.
"Lois, I'm really sorry -- you have no *idea* how sorry! -- but
I've got to..." He trailed off struggling for an excuse, trying
not to see the disappointment in her eyes. He reached to pull her
back into his arms. "I *sorry*," he whispered insistently.
Lois let him hug her, standing stiff and unresponsive, then
shrugged him off, feeling as if she'd just been doused with ice
water. "Whatever." As he rushed away from her (she refused to see
where he was going), she turned to the tall young intern in
Research who had just walked up, saying clearly, "Quinn, what are
you doing for dinner tonight?"
**************
Quinn couldn't believe his luck. Lois Lane -- *the* Lois Lane
-- the best reporter in the Planet -- hell, the best reporter *on*
the planet -- was making a pass at him. She had let him take her
to dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant where she'd flirted with him
all evening, touching his hand, staring into his eyes, laughing at
his jokes -- even the really lame ones. And now she stood in the
doorway of her apartment, inviting him in for a drink.
He'd heard rumors that she and her partner Kent were on their
way to being an item, but then Kent had been seen with some blonde,
and some government guy had been hovering around and Lois hadn't
chased him off -- the grapevine didn't quite know what to make of
all that, but it was suddenly much less certain of Lane and Kent
being LaneandKent.
"Well?" Lois asked, a little impatiently.
Quinn decided that if Kent had been fool enough to let her get
away, so much the better for Quinn. He stepped inside and watched
as she shut the door behind him.
She started towards the kitchen, asking, "What do you want?"
"You."
That got her attention. She faced him, a tiny, wry smile on her
face. "A man who knows what he wants. How refreshing."
She walked towards him and let him take her in his arms. When
he leaned down to kiss her, she closed her eyes and tried
desperately not to think about-. She wound her arms around his
neck and pressed her body against his... Clark was so big and
strong and warm and... and this is Quinn, not Clark, his name is
Quinn! Oh, God, what am I doing?
She pushed away abruptly, suddenly horrified at herself. She'd
intended to punish Clark a little for stranding her, but she'd
never intended for it to get this far. "I can't do this," she
whispered. She looked up at Quinn, her eyes swimming. "I'm sorry
-- I didn't mean -- you're just not..."
"Not Kent."
She nodded silently, somehow not surprised that he knew. She
walked towards the door and opened it for him. "Please leave."
A little stunned by the sudden turn of events, Quinn followed
Lois to the door. He stopped beside her, reaching out to brush
away a tear that rolled down her cheek. "Does Kent have any idea
how lucky he is?" he whispered. Before she could say anything, he
answered himself. "No, of course not. If he did, he would be here
and I would have eaten cold pizza in my apartment this evening."
His voice grew rough. "So why are you sending me away? So you can
sit here and cry over him? What a waste!"
Lois didn't respond. She'd been through this all just yesterday
with Dan -- how could she have been so stupid as to let it happen
again? The tears fell more freely now, as she flushed in shame.
"Please. Leave."
Quinn shook his head as he walked through the door. "What a
waste. Call me when you get over him, huh, doll?" The door
slamming behind him was his only reply.
Lois turned back to the living room, trying hard to stifle the
sobs she felt building in her chest, but they would not go away.
She finally landed in a heap by the sofa, sobbing aloud.
A sudden tapping sound interrupted her pity party. She looked
around the room, sniffling, trying to locate the source of the
tapping. Finally she looked at the window. Superman's concerned
face stared in at her.
No. She would not make the same mistake three times in a row.
"Go away, Superman," she said, without bothering to rise from the
floor. She knew he would hear her. She put her head down on the
sofa with a sigh. "You're not Clark, either."
It was a shame really, that she put her head down as she said
that, because she missed the look of shock that became sheer
unbridled joy at her words. Superman shot skyward, bouncing off a
couple of clouds before returning a split second later to her
window. He tapped again, insistently.
Lois looked up. "What?" she asked impatiently. Something about
the look on his face made her get up and cross the room to open the
window.
He glided easily inside, landing lightly before her. "Actually,
I am," he said.
Lois shrugged, an open-handed, 'playing along' gesture.
"Actually, you are what?" she asked, not really caring.
"Actually, I am Clark." Amazing how easy it was to say it like
that. He could never quite envision a scenario where he stood
before her as Clark and said, "I'm Superman." It always sounded
pompous or arrogant, like there ought to be superhero cartoon music
playing. But this... this was just telling the truth.
Lois blinked up at him. Superman had never been one for silly
games, had never toyed with her emotions. She stared into his
eyes, remembering how she'd stared into Quinn's, catching herself
looking for Clark in Quinn's eyes. Silly of her to think she could
look into one person's eyes and see another. Silly to think she
could look into Superman's eyes and see Clark. Silly... "Clark?"
She took a tentative step forward and suddenly she was in his
arms -- Clark's arms -- Clark who was big and strong and warm --
Clark whose kiss made her so weak in the knees that he had to catch
her before she could fall. "Clark..." she sighed against his lips.
"Yes," he whispered back.
"Make love to me."
"You have a press conference with the mayor tomorrow morning,"
he protested weakly.
"Ralph can cover it." She nuzzled his neck.
"And you wanted this to be special..." He couldn't think why he
was offering her excuses.
"It will be," she murmured, pulling out of his arms. She took
his hand and led him to the bedroom. "It will be."
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