Almost Lois (Chapter Twenty-Three)

A flash hit his eyes the minute he walked in the lounge at headquarters. "Crap!" Bart lowered the camera and sighed. "Couldn't you just wear it?"

Clark took the camera and lightly hit him in the forehead. "No."

Oliver got up from the couch. "I've got some friends working on some new glasses. I assume you want the same frames."

Clark adjusted the horn rims he now put on without thinking. "Well, yeah... I mean, they're a little geeky, but they are kind of like camouflage."

Oliver looked at them closely. "The lead's still good?"

"It's not needed, but... I kind of like it. It reminds me not to get too crazy when I'm Clark."

"You're always Clark." Victor stepped forward and patted him on the back. "They can call you whatever you want."

"Yeah," Bart agreed. "You'll always be a doofy farm boy to me."

"With added tights," A.C. piped up.

"I bet you look real pretty." Bart winked.

"Like a ballerina."

Clark shot forward, but they both danced out of reach, Bart all the way across the room.

"Okay, you guys, knock it off." Oliver sat back down. "I'm sorry Linda couldn't be here. She's just..."

"I got it," Clark said quickly. If Linda was ignoring him now, she might try to pulverize him if she knew about his new job. He decided to let that wait. He only hoped Lois hadn't mentioned him. If she had, she probably called him Clyde or something.

"Now that you're in the open," Oliver said seriously. "We can all benefit."

Victor leaned against the wall. "How's that, Mr. Mayor?"

"Well... Clark's now a bona fide hero. If after one night, people are this psyched up for him, it can only grow. It might raise all of our profiles. If you're looked up to, you can change the way people think about more than us. You..."

"Oliver, I hate to say it..." Clark shuffled to a chair. "But one of the reasons people don't trust you is the whole... vigilante thing. I never agreed with some of your methods. If you would just cooperate with the police, people wouldn't have this half-cocked idea about you."

Oliver shook his head. "Always this faith in the system. Clark, I don't blame you. You grew up in a red state. All that down-home conservatism and talk about the American way..."

"You know I don't pick sides that way. But you need to have some faith in the system. Ollie, not every authority figure is corrupt. You should know that as a politician yourself and..."

"Clark, of course you don't pick sides. You're such a centrist. You need to use your influence to..."

"I only need to make sure people are safe. Everything else is just politics and objectivity is even more important now that I'm a re..." He trailed off. He'd almost said reporter. The time for that would come... if ever. "Now that I'm a figure of influence," he finished. Ollie and he had been in these arguments before. Ollie always said that, when they were all in the open, they should be more active on the political side, while Clark thought it was best to stay out of it.

"So... If Oliver Queen runs for senate, I can't count in your endorsement?"

Clark sighed. "You know Clark Kent is behind everything you do. But Superman... Well, I still believe that we should use our influence to set an example and not tell anyone what to think."

"And I disagree." Ollie shrugged. "So where does that leave us?"

"Bored out of our minds," Bart groaned and turned to A.C. "All this left, right, center, Man..."

A.C. shrugged. "Neither of them do enough for animals rights the way I..."

"Okay," Victor barked. "Everyone shut it or I start campaigning for robot citizenship."

Bart laughed. "I can totally see it. You with this banner and an army of refrigerators."

A.C. elbowed Victor. "And all these commercials with crying toasters and..."

"Watch it, Fishy."

They all stopped as the door opened. Diana Prince strolled in. "Are you boys behaving?" She pulled off her glasses and moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water.

Clark noticed that A.C. looked sullen and moved to the corner chair, tossing himself into it. Bart sidled up to Clark. "Sucks to be him," he whispered so low that no one but Clark could hear it. "Diana just came back from Washington and kind of dumped him. Said she wants to be friends. I think it's some guy named Steve."

Oliver shot the two of them a look and moved toward Diana. "Is she okay?"

Diana shrugged. "I don't know why you thought I'd be of any help."

"Well... You're a girl."

"Girl?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'll ignore that for now. But no. She's really wound up." She nodded at Clark. "I haven't even thought to tell her you're around. She keeps muttering to herself about how Lois has nothing left to erase and I had to swipe the keys to the Bell." She tossed them to Victor.

"Thank God," Victor breathed, sinking into a chair.

Oliver shook his head. "I'm getting sick of having to slip that woman a valium every time Lois so much as sneezes."

Clark sighed heavily. "She's her only family. She's just concerned." He'd read Lois' article. Linda was probably seeing red at the very idea of them getting too close to each other. "But Lois is not in any danger from me. I've been... keeping my distance." In a way. "Can you tell her that?"

Oliver nodded. "I will. But on to other things... We've all noticed that one network alone is not welcoming Superman with open arms. Is there a possibility that Lex remembers something?"

"I... I really don't know how it works. He still sees Grady, apparently. But he's kept to the mansion from what I hear."

"Good," Bart said. "I hope he goes Howard Hughes and stays there with tissue boxes on his feet."

********************************

Lois met Jimmy at 34th and Walnut. "You got the camera?"

"Of course I do. I got a mini hooked on my belt just in case..." He looked down at her outfit. "Lois!"

"What?" She adjusted her top and lifted her head. The halter top was a little low and skirt might be a little short, but it was necessary.

"Did you have to dress like that? You could get in real trouble in this neighborhood."

"If I want Superman to hold still for a photo, he needs something distracting." She smiled.

Jimmy shook his head and refused to look back at her. "Well, that's distracting, all right." He pulled a ski mask from his back pocket. "Why do I need this?"

"Simple. You're going to attempt to mug me."

Jimmy looked up, aghast. "What? He'll drop me in jail and then I'll have a big..."

"Oh, calm down." She started down a side alley. "I've seen this kind of thing done... I think." It was vague, but maybe she'd seen it in a movie or... "It's just to get him down here. Then you just snap a picture and run away. I'll try to hold him." She stopped and turned. Jimmy was smirking at her.

"How?"

She turned back around and smoothed her skirt. "Never you mind how."

"Sure this is just for an article?" Jimmy prodded as they crept along. "Or do you just want a long look at the guy in the tights?"

"Don't be ridiculous." But the accounts from the women -- and some of the men --were filled with words like hot, gorgeous, dreamy, sexy... She just had to see for herself. She quickly opened her purse and dug out some lipstick, adding a coat without looking.

Jimmy chuckled behind her. "Lois has a crush."

She whirled. "Would you be serious?" She pulled the mask from his hands and held it in front of his face. "Just rob me already!"

He made a face, but put it on. He pushed a button on his belt. "Just a few clicks, Jimmy," he muttered. "No guts, no glory. So what if the guy could pulverize you? Lois wants her probing interview and..."

She rolled her eyes. "You are not going to be pulverized." She held out her purse strap. "Grab it."

He did and she let out the loudest scream she could, looking up. When that didn't work, she tried words. "Help! Thief! My purse!"

A man in pajamas came out of a door in the alleyway. "You okay, ma'am?" He stepped forward.

Jimmy let go of her purse and backed away.

Lois laughed nervously. "I'm fine. My friend and I are just joking around."

The man crossed his arms. "Could you joke quieter? Some people are trying to read."

"Yes, sir. Will do." She dropped her smile as he disappeared inside. "I thought this neighborhood was rough."

Jimmy recovered his wits and shrugged. "It is. Maybe people are on their best behavior with Supes and all."

"Supes? Jimmy, you make him sound like something you have for lunch."

Jimmy chuckled. "Yeah. You'd like that." He tugged her arm. "Come on. Let's just go."

"What? No. I'm not going anywhere until he..."

"Lois," he whined. "It's late and this is just stupid."

"Fine. You leave." She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "I can always find someone else to mug me."

"I can't leave you alone in Suicide Slum." He grabbed her purse. "Now come with me or I really will take your purse."

"Let go!" She held on to the strap as he moved backward.

He pulled harder. "I will when you..."

Suddenly there was a blur. She felt something move past her. Before she could blink, Jimmy was high against the wall and a red cape was swinging in the breeze. She couldn't see his face, but as the cape swung right and she peeked around, she glimpsed boots, calves, thighs, and... "Oh, boy," she breathed.

He turned and she finally saw him. His face was kind of hard and chiseled and gaping at her. "Lois?"

She gaped right back. "How do you know my..." He suddenly turned, but Lois saw something nearly scary in his eyes before he turned to Jimmy. She ran to the side. "No! Don't!"

He tore the ski mask off with one hand and then... His grip faltered and he backed away. Jimmy slid down the wall.

Jimmy didn't waste any time. He pushed a button and a flash lit the alleyway. He was suddenly gone. "You're on your own," she heard him yell as he ran off.

She watched him go, staring off down the alleyway. She heard a noise behind her and turned to see him... Superman. He quickly turned and bent his knees. "No! Don't go!" He stopped, but his back was still to her. "I... uh... want to thank you." She quickly bent to snatch her purse up. "That mugger was really..."

"Is this a joke?"

She gasped as he finally turned fully to her.

****************************

Clark could hardly see straight. He was so angry, he wanted to fly off and leave her there. What was she doing wandering the slums at night? He'd almost hurt a friend. "Is this a joke?" He turned to her, advanced on her. "Pretending to be mugged? I could have hurt..."

"How do you know I was pretending?" she asked, not backing away.

Suddenly, he backed away. He was dealing with her as if he knew, as if she knew... He had to be more careful. He stood straighter and dropped his voice. "It was obvious."

She came closer and he fought the urge to step back again. "And how do you know my name?"

He crossed his arms. "I... I read your article."

She was close enough to touch now. "I wouldn't think a guy like you would have time to..." She tilted her head, peering up at him. "Do I know you?"

He cleared his throat. "I don't think so."

There was an expression on her face that he recognized, but couldn't place. "Are you sure? Because I... I feel like we've met." She lifted her hand, then snatched it back. "Well... It's probably nothing. Just maybe I've... seen you somewhere..." She dropped her eyes, then quickly brought them back up to his face. "Yeah. Probably just... that." She stepped back and her hand pushed her hair behind one ear.

She was... nervous, he suddenly realized. And she was blushing. He stared blankly at her, not quite sure what to do. "Miss Lane..."

She suddenly gave a nervous laugh. "Well, you know my name. I don't quite know yours. Is that... um... something you want to share?"

"Well, Superman seems to have caught on, so..."

"Really? You like it? Cause I actually thought of it." She gave another nervous laugh. "Yeah." She folded her hands, then put them behind her back, then brought them to the front again. "I mean, I said you were super, which..." She gestured with her hands to his chest. "You are, obviously. And then it just... Well, it caught on, as you said..."

He was not sure what to do with this Lois. This one seemed to be flirting... and badly. He knew what Clark would do. He'd stop her babbling and kiss her silly right there. But Superman... Superman had a job to do. "Miss Lane, you really shouldn't be wandering the streets this late. Especially not..." He finally noticed her appearance. He quickly looked over her head, but the images stayed. Red lips. Hair mussed. Red top. Black skirt. Tight. Short. So damned... He deepened his voice again. "Dressed like that," he finished.

"Oh, you know... I just wanted to talk a little, get some inside info..."

He looked down at her again, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Risky place for an interview."

"Oh, my car's right down that way." She pointed down the alleyway. "And... Well, I wasn't sure how to have you... get you... find you," she corrected, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head.

He would have laughed if this was at all funny. "Well, a fake mugging isn't the best way, for future reference. Your friend could have been hurt. Tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare him." He turned away.

"Wait!"

He took a deep breath and turned around. "Yes?"

She stepped forward, all nervousness gone. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "Are you the one who's been behind all the crazy crime-stops lately?"

He saw no reason to lie. It wasn't as if she couldn't figure it out. And it wouldn't do for her to keep digging into the fish market. "Yes."

"You don't happen to like fish, do you?" She suddenly put a hand over her eyes. "That came out wrong. I was just wondering about the people that recounted a certain odor and... I mean, I'm not saying that... uh..."

He smiled. He couldn't help it. "Miss Lane, I have nothing against fish, but I think this odor is probably just a coincidence."

She smiled. "Right. I mean, you don't smell like fish now." She winced. "Not that I'm smelling you... I..."

"I got it." He really had to get out of here. The outfit, the awful attempts to flirt, the way she kept looking down... It was killing him. "I really should go." He bent at the knees.

"Wait!"

He stilled, clenching his fists. If he didn't get away soon, he'd have her against this wall and her legs would be even barer than they were. The craziest thing was that she would probably let him. "Yes?"

She bit her lip. "I don't want to be a pest, but... Could I maybe interview you?"

"I really..."

"Not right now," she said quickly. "Just... Whenever you can?"

"I..." He sighed and stared at her hopeful face. "Sure. I can't think of a better reporter for the job." It was true.

She smiled slowly. "It's a date, then."

He didn't answer. He just lifted off.

"Wait!"

He stopped in mid-air. He was definitely not going down there again. The cup was some protection, but what if it flew right off him?

"How do I find you?"

"I'll be around." He flew higher, waiting until he must be out of her sight to stop. He turned and looked down, then, zooming in on her form, waiting until she was in her car. He let out a harsh breath and closed his eyes.

He saw her still, but not now. Years ago. That expression on her face in the alleyway... It was awe and wonder and everything that was beautiful. He placed it now. It was the one Chloe used to gaze at him with. Before he'd chased it away for good. He circled the city, keeping his ears open even as his mind chased moments, so many moments when things could have been right between them if he'd only valued that expression.

He couldn't take advantage of it now. Inside Lois was the girl he broke. He couldn't break her again. He was no stranger to dichotomy. Using her awe of Superman was no better than those years he used her lust for Kal... for him. It seemed he couldn't escape these double lives.

He felt no better when he touched ground at home. The city had been so quiet and he'd been itching for something, anything to take his mind off the state of his body. He stripped his suit off in his room and pulled on some boxers. He floated past his mother's room and downstairs. He didn't want to wake her. But he needed some air on his skin. He flew in the large open window of the barn,wondering how it would feel to fly completely naked.

The loft was a shell, really. The couch was still there, but it was dusty. His things were in boxes and stacked downstairs. He should be moving in a week. He moved to the couch and patted it. A puff of dust flew up. He picked it up and shook it hard before putting it down. He blew at the cloud of dust around it, chasing it out the window.

He let himself fall. The couch had taken so much abuse from him over the years, but it still stood. He'd take it with him to the crazy cat lady's apartment. Who knew when he'd find another dependable piece of furniture? It was important not to let go of things that... fit.

He turned his head and looked at the landing. He thought of Chloe. The last time they'd been here together, she'd told him she loved him. And him? He'd told her not to wait.

Maybe it was the right decision at the time. He hadn't known when he'd be back, if he'd be back. But the words had been wrong. Why hadn't he explained that he didn't know? Why hadn't he accepted that she'd wait for him? She did it anyway. It had never made a difference what he told her. He should have known that. Couldn't he have at least given her one last kiss?

He closed his eyes and thought of her lips. They hadn't kissed since The Yukon. Tonight her lips had been cherry red and so tempting... He felt a stirring in his boxers and he groaned. He looked at the landing again, his mind turning to a time over a year ago. That strangely idyllic month. It was the time between Bizarro, who she'd insisted on calling Jonathon, and Lana, who returned as Lorna Leery. But this time had been quiet. They did nothing much. There were no freaks to conquer, no plots to unravel. She worked at The Planet. He worked on the farm. At night, he would slip on the necklace and they'd work at each other's bodies, coaxing moans and shivers that...

He hand slipped downward and he let it. He let it slip to the skin that was rising from his boxers. He let it encircle it as he stared at the landing, a day playing before him like a movie....

***************************

"I hate Pauline Kahn," Chloe growled, stomping up the stairs.

Clark didn't get up from the couch. He was too comfortable. "Why now?"

"Clark, I came to her with a perfectly great idea for a story." She threw herself into the rocking chair and leaned her head back. "There's this club around the lower east side that..."

"You mean Suicide Slum?" He lifted his head and watched her push back in the chair over and over.

"Well, yeah... But that's not the point." She stilled and leaned over the arm of the chair. "Clark, the place is a front. They make fake IDs, passports, birth certificates... The whole illegal shebang and what does she do?"

"I'm listening."

"She gives it to this other reporter. This guy!" She stood, leaving the chair to teeter back and forth as she paced to the railing.

"Well... Suicide Slum is a dangerous place. Don't you think it would be better to send a male to..."

"Oh, of course you agree," she snarled. "You're a guy. But Pauline is a woman. She's supposed to be on my side!"

He sat up, folding his arms. "That would be hard for her if you ended up in a dumpster or sleeping with the fishes or whatever those slum lords do to little girls who take on more than they can..."

"Uh-uh." She stabbed a finger in his direction. "Do not start that manly man, girly girl shit. I had enough of that last month, Clark."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Should I be all incensed that you're alive to come yell at me?"

"You should..." She stomped her foot and huffed. "I am frustrated and angry and I just want you to..." She stalked to his cabinet and opened it. His eyes widened as she pulled out the lead box. Lately, they'd been less closed off about it. Sometimes he slipped to the barn to get it. Other times, he found it sitting out somewhere obvious. They both knew what the box meant. They didn't talk about it. He was... not ready.

But she'd never just taken it out in front of him like this.

But he wasn't averse to it. Her eyes flashed as she strode over to the couch. He leaned back against the cushions as she opened it. She reached into the box before tossing it to the floor. He gripped the cushion underneath him in his fists as she moved forward, holding the necklace at each end. He closed his eyes as he felt her weight in his lap, her hands on the back of his neck and the delicious warmth that accompanied the necklace.

He would forget it then. But now, in an empty loft with nothing but his own hand for company, he remembered it all.

She was straddling him, running her hands up the hem of his t-shirt. Her skirt was up to her hips and he stared into her light blouse. The edge of a peach bra blended with her skin.

"I thought you were mad at me," he drawled. "Is this my punishment?"

She rolled her hips once, then twice. "If I was in the mood to punish you..." Her hands slipped higher, burying her arms to the elbows in his shirt as it rode up. She caressed the beads at his neckline. "I'd take this off."

He grasped her arms and pulled them out of his shirt. He pushed his hips upward, lifting her knees briefly from the couch and she moaned, throwing her head back. "You gonna behave?"

She half-smiled and leaned in, biting his lip. "Only if you will," she whispered against his mouth.

"Oh, I won't." His hands left her arms to find more interesting territory. Her bare legs. Her waist and ribs, which he felt bare with the heel of his palm as he pulled her blouse upward. The silky front of the peach bra as she pressed herself into his fingers. He liked it. But he liked her skin more. When his fingers reached around to her back, she slipped her arms over his, pulling his shirt over his head, even as his arms were occupied. "Patience," he whispered, trying to pull her bra down her arms while she tried the same with his shirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She slipped backwards and off his lap, slipping out of her bra straps and leaving him with them in his hands, his own shirt still on his arms. She straightened up and stood, reaching for the side zip of her skirt. "You're obviously in no hurry." She wiggled her hips and it slid down, pooling at her feet. "I'll just grab a shower while you decide if you're in the mood." She stepped out of the skirt and turned toward the stairs. He enjoyed the view, just peach panties and black heels, until she disappeared down the stairs.

"Hot damn," he hissed, taking a moment to savor the image before speeding through the motions of undressing. He sped into the house and upstairs. The bathroom door was closed, but he looked through. She was kicking off her heels, smiling right through it as if she knew he was there. It made him want to break through it and give her a real surprise. Unfortunately, there was this boyscout inside him that wouldn't let him smash one lousy door.

He waited instead. Waited while the water heated up and steam filled the room. Waited as she sat on the edge of the tub, bracing her hands beside her. He liked these games. When she stood and glared at the door, he smiled. She stepped into the shower, jerking the curtain closed. He saw through that, too. It was only when she stomped her foot and reached for the shampoo that he made his move.

"I knew it," she gasped when he had her under the spray.

He closed the curtain and ran his hands over her. He liked her wet and slick. "You didn't."

"I did," she insisted. "I bet you were out there the whole..." He cut her off the best way he knew how. She kissed back, running a foot up behind his knee. Her hand reached between them and grasped him, pulling hard. He grunted and nibbled her bottom lip. He slipped one hand from her hair and moved it down her stomach. He found her clit easily and worked it with his thumb. She pulled harder and he moved faster.

That was the game sometimes. Who'd stop first? Who'd give in and stop the hands or mouths, making way for the real action? She held his gaze even as she moaned into his mouth. "I thought about you all day at work. Sometimes I wish you'd come get me there. Just grab me right from my desk..."

His eyes rolled backwards. It was like cheating. The girl had a way with words.

"God, I want to have you on the roof," she panted. "Or in the copy room, bent over the Xerox, all our clothes still on." She smiled. "Just a half-dressed workplace fuck as you..."

"You win," he gritted, pulling his hand away and pulling her down. He held her by the hips as she landed, a knee on either side of him. They both gasped as she slid down over him. They stayed that way for a moment, letting the spray, already getting cold, fall over them.

He leaned back and let her move, running his hands over her breasts, her waist, letting his fingers glance over that smart mouth as her eyes pulled him in like a tractor beam. She lifted and lowered herself over him with sharp breaths and throaty groans. "God, Kal... needed this..." She flexed deep inside. He threw his head back against the lip of the tub as stars exploded behind his eyes.

He didn't keep them closed for long. He wanted to watch her. Her eyes were now closed, her lips barely parted as she panted. The water felt cold as it fell over and around them, but he didn't care. She didn't seem to, either, as she ground in circles against him. Still... the cold would affect her in ways it wouldn't affect him.

He grabbed her hips and tried hard not to ram her down on his dick, letting her retain control. He slid his hands up and his thumbs brushed over stiff nipples, his hips bucked up hard and Chloe cried out and sped up.

"That's it... So fucking hot, Chloe..." He pinched her nipples, raising his hips to meet her on each down-thrust. The water splashed below and around them now and he pushed himself as deeply as he could, feeling his orgasm approaching fast.

He circled his hips with the next thrust and Chloe sobbed, swaying forward, as he trailed one hand down her belly to plant his thumb firmly against her clit. He circled fast and hard as he rammed himself up into her.

"Ahhhhhh!!..." Chloe yelled, raking her nails down his chest. He watched her small body shake and shudder and writhe as she came, her body clutching and clenching and squeezing at his pulsing cock. He lost it himself, his hips jolting against hers, spurting deeply inside her, his mouth open in a long, silent gasp as the wind picked up, ruffling his hair and... That wasn't right...

*************************

He opened his eyes, panting as he gazed around the empty barn. He looked down at his wet hand and boxers. It had been the last time in his mother's house. It had actually been the last time he'd had her as Kal. Just Kal. After that, Luthor was found alive, Lana appeared in his field, Chloe ran away without telling him...

He slipped his boxers off and cleaned himself. He wished she'd slipped the necklace from him then. Maybe if he'd accepted what they did earlier, then she wouldn't have run off. They could have had two months before... He shook his head and wrapped a ratty blanket around himself, stretching out as well as he could. It might not have changed a thing. Jor-El would have still called him. He still would have gone. And he still wouldn't have known when he was coming back.

Maybe all this was a clear message to him. He just couldn't have her no matter how things had gone. Fate was a bitch.

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Chapter Twenty-Four