Almost Partners (Chapter Six)

"Hi, you two!" Mitzi squealed. "Oh, and what tasty treat have you brought for us?"

"Shepherd's pie," Clark supplied, his arm around Lois' waist. "Lanie made it."

"Well, doesn't that just smell scrumptious, Sweetie?" Mitzi opened the door wider and Lois started in, noticing that Clark's hand had not left her waist yet. She supposed he was playing along. Mitzi led them to a long table with a hideous mustard-colored cloth. "Just set that right here with the others," she instructed. "Oh, there's that bell again. I'll see you two in a jiff."

"Oh, look." Lois smiled tightly at the other casserole dishes that looked almost just like the one she had. "More shepherd's pie." She turned to Clark as she set it down. "Thought you said this was original."

He didn't even have the grace to look sorry. He just shrugged and squeezed her waist. "Oops."

"I'll give you oops, you..." She trailed off, her eyes losing focus. One of his fingers had slipped between her sweater and skirt and was running along the skin at her waistline. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Hmm?"

"Your hand..."

"Oh..." He blinked several times and stepped away. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Just..." She cleared her throat. She was suddenly parched. "Save it for when someone's looking, okay?"

Of course, people were looking. They were about the only people here under thirty and, if nothing else, it must be a talking point. Several pairs of eyes were on them. Mostly female eyes, sadly. She really wanted to see more males around after the estrogen-heavy Crafty Devils... She jumped suddenly as something rushed past her. She stumbled into Clark just as another thing followed the first. She craned her neck. Kids. Kids with leftover Halloween masks. A witch chased Frankenstein through the crowd, making laser gun noises with a banana in her hand. If that wasn't surreal enough, Clark was practically kissing her ear.

"You okay?" he whispered. That hand was on her waist again.

She shivered lightly. "Fine."

The hand was slipping, cupping her hip and she couldn't say no one was watching this time. Marcy Proud actually winked at her from the corner. He was playing along, after all. The problem was it made her want to join in. She stepped away as Pammie Sharp came into view.

She was red-faced and giggling slightly. "I am so sorry, Lanie. My kids are maniacs on sugar. They must have got into the cupcakes early."

"Oh, no problem. Kids will be kids." She turned to Clark. "Right, Sweetie?"

"Yes," Clark piped up, gripping her waist again. She really wished he'd stop that. It was damned distracting. "I don't think we've met. Kent Cameron." He held out the hand that wasn't on her waist, still keeping his grip. She tried to be annoyed about it.

Pammie giggled. "So nice to meet you, Kent." She looked from him to Lois. "You two are newlyweds, aren't you?"

Lois forced a smile. "What gave us away?"

Pammie shrugged. "More physical contact than my Mikey and I have had in a year." She leaned in to Lois. "It's not like the thrill is gone. I'll get pregnant if I just sit too close to him. I swear."

Lois' next smile was genuine. An opening to their "problems." Not only that, an opening to meeting a congressman. It was a veritable buffet of possibilities. "Well, Kent and I..."

"Cameron!" A booming voice said from right next to Lois, possibly damaging her left ear permanently.

"Bob," Clark said, turning the both of them, but still not letting go of Lois' waist. It was getting a little annoying. She had girl talk to...

"We'll catch up," Pammie said. Lois watched forlornly as she moved away, catching the end of Clark's conversation with Bob.

"Got a huge plasma screen now," Bob was saying.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Guy delivered it this morning. Rec room's really coming together. Got a few other things, too..." He trailed off, his eyes landing on Lois. "Well, don't you clean up nice, Lanie?" he drawled.

She smiled stiffly. "Oh, Bob. Thank you." Clark's hand tightened again. Any tighter and she'd be on the other side of him. She pulled away slightly, giving him a pointed look. "You should check that rec room out, Kent. Sounds like fun."

"In a bit." Clark smiled lightly. "I'll check you later, Bob," he said, not taking his eyes off Lois.

Lois shrugged at Bob. She waited until he walked away before she dragged Clark into a corner. "Are you nuts? All the guys are in the rec room. All the guys could include Congressman Michael Sharp. It could also include whoever's in on this whole..."

"You look great in red." He ran a finger down her sleeve. "I don't tell you that enough."

"You don't tell me that ever. Why are you so..."

"Keep your voice down," he said, leaning in. "We have to keep up appearances." He was talking to her neckline now.

"One of us is getting a little too into character, here."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'll be sure to reign you in." He reached for her waist again, but she slapped his hand away.

"Stop that. How are we supposed to concentrate if you keep grabbing at me?"

"I'm sorry." He gave her a slow smile. "I can be gentler." He drew her against him and she found herself actually letting him. When did he get so... smooth?

"Clark..."

"It's Kent," he said in her ear. And then his lips...

"Um... We should have a plan," she breathed.

"I'm listening." His hands moved up and down her back and she found she didn't have a thing for him to listen to.

"The... uh..." She drew a shaky breath. "I should stick to the ladies and whine about our... uh..."

"Bedroom troubles?" he finished, those lips still against her ear.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. And you should go play with the boys and..."

"Can't I just stick with you?" His finger slipped along the skin above her waistband.

"Well, maybe if you... No!" She stepped back resolutely. "You just... behave yourself and stop all this... play-acting. We're here for the story, Kent. So... you go play with the boys and stay there." She squared her shoulders. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go drink wine and talk about my problems." She walked off on slightly shaky legs, wondering if Clark ever did school plays. He sure was a method actor.

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

"Have you tried zinc?" a red-head whose name escaped Lois asked. That was the strange and wonderful thing about women, even these Stepford women. Every intimate detail of your life, even the fake ones, could be a group discussion. "My sister was having all kinds of trouble and she started taking zinc supplements and she was pregnant in no time."

"No, it's Vitamin E," Dodie piped up.

"They're all bunk," Marcy whispered in her ear. "Go to an actual doctor."

"There are so many choices," Lois whispered back. "I wonder who's the doctor of choice."

Marcy shrugged. "I know a few people have seen Manning. She's supposed to be the..."

"Yeah!!!"

She turned toward the doorway all the loud cheering was coming from. It was crowded with men and what kids there were. Something sports-like, no doubt. She wondered if she could take her conversation with Marcy away. It would be better to...

"And, apparently, chloramine. That's supposed to be a good... Oh, there's Lizzie. Excuse me, Dear."

"Sure." She glared at the doorway. Whatever was causing all the racket was really screwing up her game. "Stupid men," she muttered.

"Too true." She turned to see Pammie Sharp at the buffet across from her. She silently thanked the heavens. "But at least they're occupying the little ones."

She hadn't been able to get Pammie all night as Pammie had been on kid detail. She quickly poured Pammie a glass of wine. "Drink to it?"

"Oh, sorry. No. Can't."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just..."

"No offense taken. Really. Just I... Well, a certain friend didn't visit this month and, knowing me..." She giggled. "Don't want to get the potential baby hooked on the juice."

"Oh, well... Congratulations."

Pammie shrugged. "Maybe. I'm not sure yet... But it does give me lovely excuse, eating for two." She glanced down at the table. "What do we have here?"

"About five shepherd's pies, that I know."

Pammie shook her head. "Well... not very original. But there's an upside. I should try one of them, at least. Then I can honestly announce loudly how great the shepherd's pie was and someone will be happy."

"Then try this one." She pointed at the one on the edge. "We brought that one."

Pammie bit her lip. "When I said it wasn't very original, I just meant that it's a popular dish. I wasn't..."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not offended." Lois leaned forward. "Kent does all the cooking."

"Well..." She smiled. "Aren't you lucky? Guy that looks like that and cooks, too."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She sipped at her wine. Everyone and their mother seemed to have a thing for Clark. Not her, though. Not really. Hardly even...

"I'll definitely try his, then." Her eyes lit up on a dish at the end. "Just after I try that stuffed cabbage." She chuckled. "As long as I'm eating for two." Her face turned serious and she stilled with a serving spoon in her hand.

Lois tilted her head. "Do you... want to be?"

"I... Oh, I don't know. I have six kids already. I love 'em all, but I thought they'd stop coming at some point and I could just settle down and...." She winced. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be complaining about this to you. I've heard you're having a tough time and all." She placed her hand on Lois' across the table. "But you're very young. And so skinny. I'm sure you won't have much trouble. Not like Susie or Janice."

Her mind leapt at the names, but she tried to keep her voice just mildly curious. "Who are they?"

"Oh, you're new. Well, Janice was here for years. We tried to be walking buddies, but neither of our hearts were in it. At any rate, she was having some trouble conceiving. But she was a yoyo dieter, so it's no wonder. Weight's never been an issue for me with getting pregnant, I do it fat or thin, but for some women..." She trailed off, shrugging.

There was a spark in her mind. Janice was overweight. She hadn't thought of that as an issue. But now that she thought about it. She wished she could rush home and look at those files now. Joanna hadn't been heavy, but Morgan... "And Susie?" she asked, hoping she didn't seem too eager.

"Her? Didn't know her very well. She was only here a few months before she must have moved elsewhere."

"I mean was Susan heavy?"

"A little hippy, but not too heavy, but... Well, it affects your chances. I was a little thing like you once. Six kids is what put me over. Never could get my figure back." She smiled sadly. "Well, Mike hardly notices, so..."

"I think you look great," Lois said, meaning it. Pammie had the kind of smile that actually reached her eyes. It was rare here.

"Pull the other one."

"No. Really. And... if you need a walking buddy, I'd be glad to oblige." And hear any dirt on the congressman, she thought a little guiltily. As nice as Pammie seemed, if there was dirt, it was Lois' job to find it.

And break up a family? her conscience piped up.

She didn't have time to rebut her conscience, however. There was a loud rour from the rec room again.

"Oh, yeah!" The crowd parted and she wondered which neanderthal was screaming now... Clark? "I am the air hockey king of the world!"

She strode over, pushing her way to the front. A very disgruntled-looking teenager was on the other side of the air hockey table, while Clark was high-fiving everyone around. It was absolutely the stupidest display ever. "Um... Kent?"

He turned to her, grinning. "Hey. Look who's champion." He sidled up. "Got a prize for me?"

There were chuckles from a few of the men. She let out a fake laugh. "What are you doing?" she hissed to him.

"Playing with the boys," he said, leaning in. "Like you said."

"Can I see you for a minute?" She turned, jumping slightly at his light slap on her bottom.

"Sorry, guys. Gotta see the boss."

Seriously? Her eyes narrowed as she stalked toward the downstairs bathroom, knowing he was following. She opened the door and turned to him. "In."

He smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

She closed the door behind her, wondering how much damage she could inflict on him without leaving a bruise. "What the hell, Clark? Have you been drinking?"

"Me?" He shrugged. "Nah. Alcohol does nothing for me."

"Well, I don't appreciate your loud shenanigans."

He moved closer and she found the door at her back. "Shenanigans?"

"Well, your... I was making headway out there and your little antics were..." She crossed her arms. "And what was with you slapping my ass?"

He shrugged. "Playing along." He ran a finger over her forearm. "A little male bonding. Mike Sharp wants to watch the Sharks game next week."

"Yeah?" Her anger dissipated slightly.

"Mmm-hmm." He pulled one of her arms down. "Wants us both over." She felt him pull the other one over his shoulder. "You could occupy the wife and I can..."

"Will you quit that?" She placed her hands against his chest. He was moving awfully close. "No one's watching us here."

"Exactly," he said, leaning in. Her hands were trapped between them as he closed the distance. She started to push again, but... Oh, God. His lips were on hers. This was probably the least productive thing they could be doing right now.

But damned if it didn't feel good.

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

This night had been a revelation. Why did he keep his distance for so long? Lois, Chloe... Whoever she was, she was his. Nothing changed that. Every soft inch of her was his. He ran his finger over one particularly soft inch just under her waistband. He could feel her hip bone underneath. That was a nice spot. He had many happy memories of biting that exact spot and the answering jolt that went through her body.

He'd like to unwrap her now, take her in Mitzi's cramped downstairs bathroom. In the back of his mind, he knew that was impossible. But just a taste...

He tasted the wine on her breath. He felt almost drunk on it. Her hands had been pushing at him. Now he felt them fisted in his shirt and, nice as that was, he didn't want anything between them. He reluctantly dragged his hand up and took them, placing them on his shoulders. She was a smart girl. She took the hint. He delved deeper into her warm mouth as her fingers ran up the nape of his neck.

He pressed himself into her, letting his hands roam over her hips, insinuating them between her and the door to feel her bottom, press forward, and...

"Mmmph! Clark!..."

Her lips were gone. It didn't matter. There was a jaw to explore, a neck, an ear that...

"Clark, we... we can't do this."

His eyes could hardly focus, but he tried. Her eyes were a bit bleary, too, her lids heavy. "Why?" he asked close to her mouth.

"The party," she breathed. "We need to..."

"Go," he finished, smiling. If that was the only reason she had... "We should go." He rested his forehead against hers. "I just want to taste every inch of you."

"Oh, God." She twisted her head away. "Clark, we need to think."

"We think too much," he said, letting a finger slide along her neckline. "We work too much. We deserve to... just feel." He tilted her chin up. "I can make you feel good."

Her eyes were wide as she leaned her head against the door. "I... don't... I..." She pushed him lightly. "I need to think." He let her push him backwards. He let her turn and fumble with the doorknob. But he didn't let her open it--not yet.

He stepped forward, placed his hand over hers on the knob. "I don't need to think. I know what I want," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "You just let me know when you've decided." He stepped back, let her flee. He smiled at the open door. He had a feeling. Tonight would be... wrong. He was pushing her into this. He really was. He had no doubt he could seduce her, but... What could that do to her? What about the...

"Oh, you're still in here, Kent." Mitzi heaved a sigh. The larger, even more garish pin on her lapel glinting slightly. "I must say, this party is quite the hit. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Not really," he said. "Actually can't wait to get home." He shook his head. That was probably rude.

Mitzi's brows drew together, then she suddenly laughed. "Oh, you newlyweds. Well..." Her smile faded slightly. "Could you possibly move? The other bathrooms's occupied and..."

"Sure." His lips pressed tight as he moved past her. Why should he play nice? The party was lame and he was free to say so. He had better things to do. Consequences be damned. He and Lois had been dancing around each other too long.

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

His eyes seemed to find her everywhere. There she'd be, just trying to concentrate, and there he'd be, across the room, giving her the kind of look that threatened to burn her up on the spot. Once, she'd even imagined a red flash in his eyes. It had obviously been too long since she'd... had a certain kind of fun. She was hallucinating.

She ran a finger down the stem of her wine glass. Would it be so wrong? Sure, they worked together, but... Maybe just once. Maybe just to work out the kinks. She couldn't deny that he was more tempting, the more she was around him. At first, he'd seemed like a clueless hick. Then more of a sweet, but dopey guy. Kind of a Dudley Do-Right type. Now... She glanced to the side. There he was, across the room with Bob. She doubted he was listening to Bob anymore than she was listening to Mitzi.

"Of course, some people don't like it," Mitzi was saying. "But that's probably just because it comes off the back of the box. What do you think?"

Lois' eyes snapped back to Mitzi. "Huh?"

"Green bean casserole," Mitzi said, tilting her head. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Lois took a sip if her wine and exhaled slowly. "I... agree. Green bean casserole. Yum."

"Exactly. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with a recipe that comes from the back of a box. For years, my mother made..."

She let her mind wander again, as well as her eyes. He was still looking. She looked away quickly. It was nuts. She was obsessing on Clark. Up until last month, he hadn't even been a blip on her radar. The only man on her mind was... Well, Superman may not be attainable, but he was more her style. Of course, she hadn't thought of him much since she'd started shacking up with Clark. She sought him out again, but he was gone.

But she saw Pammie. She was talking to Dodie, who was once again patting her flat stomach as she talked, saying something veiled and snide, no doubt. Something about weight...

And that was just it. All of these women were not only women with PCOS. They were women with quite a few extra pounds. Maybe Joanne Moody was thin, but her partner... Morgan. Lois wasn't sure what she looked like. But she'd just bet it fit in with the rest. Heavy-set women with PCOS. It could describe many women in America -- in Metropolis. So why this place?

It was a fairly new and expensive community. Clark's early research had said that other people had left, possibly unable to sustain the mortgage. But those people had turned up other places. These people had gone missing. So maybe they wouldn't be missed too much. Four couples try out that swanky new planned community to up and leave after only months. Not everyone would see the connection. They'd only see it if they were looking for it.

Another reason this place would be attractive to their culprit was the gossip. He could make sure his female partner (his "wife") brought him back all the juicy tidbits. Or she, as it well could be, could just go out and get it herself. She was pretty sure her bit of gossip had made the rounds, but was she really a candidate? Sure, she had fake PCOS, but apart from hips that saddened her on some days, she wasn't exactly in the right weight class. She looked around. Someone else could be. It made her want to get to those files again, compare women and see what else...

"Lanie?" She turned to see Clark at her left. He smiled at Mitzi. "Sorry to interrupt, but we should get home. Early day tomorrow."

"Oh, of course. Are you two hosting Thanksgiving dinner or visiting relatives?"

"We..." Lois' mind went away. Not just because Clark had begun tracing lazy circles on her back, but because, even knowing tomorrow was Thanksgiving, she hadn't really given it much thought. What did she usually do for Thanksgiving? "Star City," she muttered. That had been last time. She remembered Linda and Ollie and...

"Oh, you'll be flying, then." Mitzi hissed in a breath. "That airport traffic. You poor things."

Lois' head snapped up. "Yes. Should be a crunch. Heh." Her mind was whirring. She didn't care about Thanksgiving right now. What she wanted was to get to those files again. She turned to Clark. "Yes. We really should get out of here, Cl... Honey."

He smiled at Mitzi again and pulled her to the door.

"Clark," she hissed. "I have a thought." She pulled away and grabbed her purse from the masses on the window seat. "We have to get back to the house now."

"I agree," he whispered, opening the door.

"I've found another connection." She strode down the walkway, dimly hearing the door close behind her. "All of those women were on the plump side. That means that... I'm out. I'm not good bait at all. The culprit probably won't want me." She made her way across the street, actually glad to see the door to that ugly house again. Until she couldn't. A large man was blocking her view. How did Clark get there so fast?

"Culprit's an idiot. I happen to find you very tempting," he said, pulling her close.

She suddenly found all thoughts of the story pushed away, replaced by other thoughts. Less productive thoughts. The downstairs bathroom. Oh, boy. There was some unfinished business there.

And the middle of the street was no place to finish it.

She stepped around him, pulling the keys from her purse. "Clark, maybe we should just go to... uh..."

"Bed?" he suggested behind her.

She walked on. "Yes... I mean. No. Or..." She turned around in front of the door. "We work together. It would just be... bad."

He smiled. "I can guarantee the opposite."

Could someone seriously lose all feeling in their knees and still stand? "I mean wrong." She steeled herself and turned. Her fingers shook slightly, but she managed to get the key in the lock.

"Why?" he breathed into her neck.

She was quiet at that. She was positive there were plenty of reasons why. She couldn't think of one, though. Not with this silent electricity between them. She heard a click. She looked down to see he'd turned the key. The noise jolted her brain into action. "Uh... The... Well..." Not much action, though. "See, it's like... Haven't you ever watched a sitcom?" It was possibly the lamest reason ever, but he was just so damned... "You know, things are awkward once the... Screw it." She turned and pulled him down, one hand on his neck, the other turning the knob.

She wondered that they didn't fall. Clark was obviously steadier on his legs than she was as he walked her backward, nearly carrying her inside. Her feet slid against the floor and she dug in, pushing him backwards, pushing the door closed with him. Pushing herself practically into him.

He could kiss -- and only too well. It was the very thing that had her in knots since that first night. Clark seemed harmless, but there was something underneath, something that tasted like danger. And she wanted more. She pulled him backwards to the dining table and they fell to it, his hands grasping her hips, waist, thighs...

Sharp tingles raced from every spot that touched him, setting off corresponding jolts between her legs. Earlier, she'd felt softly coerced by him. Now... it was demand. She had to. Both of their bodies were demanding it. She'd have left the party sooner if she'd known she just had to. They could have been thrice sated by now.

His mouth was hot on her collarbone and she pushed up against him, her hands fluttering against the table. She didn't know what to do with herself. It was all too weird and wrong and wonderful. Her head moved to the left as his mouth found her pulse. Her laptop teetered on the edge of the table. Clark's was on her other side and not faring much better. In her last smart move, she snaked her hands between their bodies and pushed.

He stared at her as she sat up, pushing herself off the table and towards him. If this was going to be a big mistake, then she wanted to get all she could from it. She pulled at his dress shirt and, in a move that shocked even her, ripped it open. He didn't seem shocked. It only seemed to egg him on as he pulled her against him and bit her bottom lip.

As much of a mistake as all of it seemed, there was a rightness here. It was as if they'd been here before and would be again and she couldn't believe she'd honestly been near him all this time and not seen that this was where they should be- straining against each other in a darkened house, trying to make their way to a bedroom that seemed just too far away.

She pulled away and moved around the couch, sent the coffee table skittering to the wall with a kick. She turned, drinking in the light that glinted off his glasses, the muscles that peeked through his open shirt. "Here," she panted, kicking off her shoes.

He smiled and came forward and she could swear she saw that hint of a red glow behind his glasses again. "Whatever you want."

That was the funny thing. She believed him. As cocky as he'd seemed when talking her into this, she had faith that he could deliver--and then some. "I want to see you." Her breath hitched slightly as she stopped him from kissing her again. There was time for that. She had to see him first. All of him. She pushed the shirt from his shoulders and down. His skin was hard and warm and smooth and just a little damp. She found herself nearly ogling his stomach as his shirt fluttered to the floor.

There was only faint light from the kitchen and the streetlamps outside. She wished it was full daylight, that she could see him fully. But it would do for now. She ran her hands from his stomach to his nipples and he hissed in a breath and grasped her wrists, pulling them high. "Your turn."

Was it insane that his extreme cockiness was getting her hotter? Probably.

He released her wrists to grasp the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up and over. She heard it drop to the floor and was a little relieved he didn't rip it as she'd done to his. It had cost over... "Clark?" His eyes. They flashed bright red. She couldn't be imagining it this time. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Maybe it was a passing car against his glasses. Because they were clear again. And wide open. Very wide.

"I... Lois, I..." He trailed off and stared down at her, at himself. "What am I thinking? We can't... I'm so sorry...."

"Oh, no." She shook her head. He'd gone from a sexy beast back to Dudley Do-Right in seconds. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Lois, I wasn't thinking..."

"Exactly." She ran her hands up his shoulders. "Clark, you're right. We think too much." She kissed his neck and felt him tense. "We work too much." She bit lightly, not wanting to lose the mood. She wanted that other Clark back. The one that grabbed and groped and gave her melting glances. This Clark was fine for daytime wear, but at night...

"Lois," he growled, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her back. He stared at her open-mouthed before suddenly dropping to his knees.

She gasped and closed her eyes. She hoped he was doing what she thought he was, which was... nothing. He wasn't even touching her. She opened one eye and looked down. He was... playing with her sweater?

"Clark!"

She watched in confusion and disappointment as he fumbled with it and removed her ugly pin and strode to the door. He flung it open and tossed her pin out. She didn't like the thing either, but...

"Clark, what the hell..."

He turned back, panting. "I'm sorry."

"Uh... It's fine. I didn't like it, anyway." She was just a little lost. She really hoped they could get back on track. "So..." She reached behind and unzipped her skirt. "Back to work?"

Her skirt hit the floor and his jaw seemed to join it. "Uh..."

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