Almost Partners (Chapter Sixteen)

He felt warm.

Hot or cold, neither usually affected him one way or the other. But here, in this ugly floral bed, with early morning sunlight streaming in the windows, he felt warmth.

He pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her, of them, savoring the softness of her stomach beneath his hand, her bare back against his chest. Right here, it was easy to forget all that had happened, all that could happen. He closed his eyes, but they shot open again.

It was Sunday. Sunday meant they had been here a week. Sunday meant no more than another week to sort out the mystery that surrounded this place. It also meant watching a Shark's game with the Sharps. It also meant that Jimmy still had information for him. "Day of rest," he mumbled. He wished it was. Then they could stay here all day, re-exploring each other, but now...

She stirred and moved slightly. He loosened his arms as she turned over, opening her eyes. She jolted slightly and he wondered if she was going to push him away.

She didn't. She sighed softly and closed her eyes again. "Morning," she whispered.

"Yes, it is."

She pushed at his chest. "I meant 'good morning,' smart-ass."

"Yes, it is." He slid a hand over her waist. "How do you feel?"

She opened her eyes and grinned. "Sore, but... nice." She burrowed closer. "This is nice."

Would she say that if, at this moment, she had it all back? Maybe not. But she was right. It was nice. He stroked her hip under the blanket. "I want you to remember this," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Remember this why?"

He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. "I just want you to remember how nice this is. That way, in a week, month, maybe a year..." He dropped a kiss on her lips. "You can think of this and not..."

He trailed off as she suddenly sat up.

"What?"

She gathered the sheet to her chest and turned, a smile on her lips. And not a real one. "Nothing."

He took a deep breath.

"Okay. Something..." She laid back on her side. "Clark, we... You and me, we... Well, we're from different worlds." She shook her head. "Actually, that's pretty literal, but... I understand that, where you grew up, something like this," she gestured between them, "might mean more than..." She groaned. "I'm trying not to sound like a bitch, here." She leaned up on an elbow. "Clark, I like you. I like that you spend your time protecting this city, I like that you're polite and sweet and have the kind of body that..." She grinned and bit her lip. "Well, I like you. A lot. But..." She shrugged. "Well, you can't throw words like months and years around. We have no idea if this is something that lasts. So... let's just take a step back on that." She nodded, satisfied with herself, and leaned closer. "Now you know what would really feel nice..."

"Got it," he said, pulling away.

She groaned and rolled over. "Clark, I'm not trying to..."

"No, it's fine." He picked up his suit and his boots. "I'm gonna go... get a shower." He sped out and into the other bath, feeling... He wasn't sure what he was feeling. There was too much there. Anger, yes. Humiliation, definitely. Hurt...

He'd thought it meant something. That last night was something deeper than just sex--and not just for him. Maybe he didn't have a right to be angry. How was she supposed to know what last night meant?

It didn't change that he was. Despite the wipe, she should just know. She should...

"What is your problem?" She was standing outside the shower.

"Nothing," he lied, scratching shampoo roughly into his hair. "No problem here."

"Then why do I feel like we just played some game of lecherous lady and virtuous farm boy. We are grown-ups, Clark." She opened the curtain slightly and peeked in. "And it's not the nineteenth century. Just because we had sex, doesn't mean..."

"Doesn't mean anything," he said, ducking his head under the spray. "I got it."

"Oh, you..." She growled and opened the curtain wider, dropping the sheet and stepping in. "I didn't say that and you know it. All I said was that it would be a bad idea," she poked at his shoulder, "and for both of us. We've been thrown together a lot and maybe we just need to make sure we give each other space, time. And... Well, just try not to turn this into something it's.... not."

He turned. "So what is it, then?"

She sighed. "It is what it is." She stepped up to him, getting wet under the spray. "And what it is," she smiled and slid a hand up his chest, "is fun."

He stepped backward. "I'm clean."

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

Lois stomped her foot as he disappeared. A stupid thing to do in a hard tub with a bare foot. "Fine. You're clean, Clark," she muttered, shaking her leg. "You're clean and pure and I'm a big hobag. Stupid, hulking..."

"I can hear you, you know."

She looked up. Why was it so easy to forget he was Superman? "Then hear this," she yelled. "It wasn't nice and it wasn't fun and I never want to do it again." It was a big, fat lie and she felt like a nine-year-old for saying it. She'd been nearly banking on doing it again when she'd followed him to the bathroom. Even if he was playing at wounded virtue, he was a guy. Guys couldn't sulk for long, not when there was a naked female near. And guys weren't supposed to reverse gender roles. She was trying to be a sport. They had too much going on to make any kind of... commitment. She shuddered slightly at the word. She didn't know what it was, but the idea of jumping into something too quickly... It frightened her.

A slight wind moved the shower curtain and she knew it was him, rushing around. She turned off the water and got out, abandoning the idea of a shower. She picked up her sheet and wrapped it around her wet form, shuffling out the open door. He was in his suit and picking up his briefcase. They looked odd together. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"I'm going to The Planet," he said, not looking at her. "I'll be back later."

"Nuh-uh." She shuffled toward the steps, tripping slightly. "You are not just rushing off and leaving me here."

He turned back, a phony smile on his face. "Just giving you that space and time you want."

"That wasn't what I meant. I meant that we should respect each others' boundaries and... You know what? I'm through talking about this." She pulled the sheet tighter around her. "First of all, we have to visit the Sharps..."

"That's not till three."

"And second of all," she went on, ignoring him, "you are not leaving me here with no car while you go flying wherever you want to."

"You'd still have a car," he said slowly, "if you'd stayed away from Smallville."

"Ah, but I'd have it right now if you hadn't ripped off my door. If it was just a refill on brake fluid, it would be fixed in minutes. You owe me, at least, transportation and..." Her eyes widened and she breathed in sharply. "Oh, my God! You jerk!"

He dropped his briefcase. "What now?"

She pulled the sheet higher and stomped down the steps. "On Thanksgiving, you let me spend an entire car ride from hell with you when you could have just... flown down."

"You were the one that insisted you take me."

"Well, you should have said something."

"Like what? 'Please don't trouble yourself. I'll just fly home.' Somehow, I don't think that would've worked." He towered over her. It only made her angrier.

"Oh, you just... you wait." She turned on her heel, tripping again. She dropped the sheet with a loud groan. "I'm getting dressed," she said over her shoulder, striding to her room. "You are not leaving me stranded here while you go off to play big he-man."

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

Clark stared at her freshly slammed door. As frustrating as she was, he nearly smiled. She wouldn't listen to him now any more than she had over a year ago, when she'd insisted on going after Bizarro. She'd helped then, but she'd also nearly killed herself. "What am I going to do with you?" he whispered to her closed door.

He could leave now. There wasn't much she could do about it. But he wouldn't. He just couldn't.

He slumped to the couch, sitting hard, wondering when things had shifted. Years ago, he might have rushed off and left her to stew. It was usually for her own good. Now... he was completely weak in the face of a girl he could lift over his head with one finger. He'd changed. He sat back, closing his eyes. She'd changed. She wasn't that sweet girl who followed him, trusted him no matter what. Now she strode three steps ahead, leading him by the... everything.

He turned as she slammed out of her room, her hair stuffed into a ponytail, a large Daily Planet sweatshirt flapping over her jeans. "Don't think, just because I'm flying with you, that I'm helpless." She grabbed her purse and shook it at him. "I'm a strong, independent woman as well as a top reporter, damn it." She strode to the kitchen door, opening it and disappearing through. She poked her head back in a moment later. "So are you giving me a lift or what?"

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

"Don't give me that stuff about research," Lois was saying, hot on his heels. "We're at dead ends and you know it."

Clark straightened his tie as he opened the roof access door. He turned to her. "How would you know that? You're hardly working on Met Vista."

Her jaw dropped. "Like you are? You're working on secretive little side projects with scientists that involve me and which I have a right to know about and..." She trailed off, staring at the roof around her. "Pigeon," she muttered.

Clark peered at her, the door still open in his hands. "What?"

She squinted and shook her head. "Nothing. I don't know... What was I saying?"

He held the door wider and nodded toward it. "You were saying we should pursue our own investigations."

"Nice try." She moved past him into the stairwell. "I was accusing you of hiding things from me." She turned and poked him in the chest. "Something you're good at." She turned back and started down the steps. "I can understand the Superman thing, Clark. I really can, but if you're going after Doctor Grady, then, like it or not, it's my business and I need to know what you know."

He kept silent and followed her. He was getting good at that. At the bottom of the stairwell, she stopped short of the second floor door and whirled on him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Her mouth worked soundlessly before she turned and jerked the door open. "Fine. Be that way." She moved down the hall toward the double doors leading to the bullpen.

Even after everything that happened, he suddenly felt like they hadn't moved past seventh grade. She'd said the same thing when he and Pete wouldn't let her see what they were hiding in the couch cushions at Pete's house. It had been a Playboy, so nothing on earth could have made them tell her. But she'd found out, anyway. Nothing stayed hidden from her, at least not for long.

He felt like he constantly walked a line between hope and despair. He wanted her to find out. He wanted her safe. he wanted her back. He wanted her well.

Of course, right now he'd settle for a break from the shrewd glances and accusing stares. Wasn't he supposed to be angry, anyway? He scowled at her back, remembering that he was. She wanted to use him for sex and it was degrading and... He shook himself. When had he turned into a girl?

They both stopped at the snores coming from the break room.

"Who would be here at seven on a Sunday?" she hissed.

"Probably Jimmy," Clark whispered behind her. "His roommate has female company."

She turned back to him, smirking. "Don't we all."

His fists clenched at his sides. Now she was calling him a girl. It was one thing when he did it. He'd show her who was a girl. He'd... open the break room door and wake Jimmy before he dragged her into the supply closet and derailed the entire day.

He moved to the sofa and shook Jimmy's shoulder. Jimmy sat up so quickly, Clark jumped backward. "I was holding it for a friend," he said blearily.

"Huh?"

He shook his head and blinked at Clark. "C.K.? What are you doing in my room?"

"You're at the Planet," Clark said, straightening.

"What were you holding for a friend?" Lois asked from the doorway.

"Huh?" Jimmy stared at both of them. "Nothing. Must have been a dream. I've never even touched a joint."

Lois giggled. "Jimmy, we're not narcs." Clark felt a light slap on his shoulder. "Why'd you wake poor Jimmy up, anyway?"

"Because I need... to talk to him about something."

Jimmy sat up, yawning. "What's up? I'm not at full speed right now, but... Hey..." He peered up at Clark. "Did you ever get a hold of Superman? I got another thing to... ask him." He stiffened and cleared his throat. "No biggie, really if you saw him..."

"I did," Clark lied. "I think he'll be coming this morning."

"Cool." Jimmy stood up. "Better warm up the camera. I know the guy's not big on photo ops, but you never know..."

Clark laughed. "Yeah. You never do." He stepped backwards. "You know, I gotta... use the bathroom. I'll just..." He trailed off moving to the door. Lois snorted as he walked past her. "What?" he hissed.

"Nothing. Just realizing what a terrible liar you are." She shook her head. "As if being fooled by glasses wasn't sad enough..."

He gritted his teeth and moved on.

When Superman came into the bullpen, Lois was standing close to Jimmy. "Superman wouldn't mind at all," she was saying. "Why don't you just gove it to me and I'll..."

"Jimmy," he said loudly, deepening his voice. "I was told you have something for me." He scowled at Lois, who rolled her eyes and stepped away.

Jimmy, who looked extremely conflicted, perked up. "Oh, hey there, Buddy." He moved to the small cubicle in the corner and opened the bottom drawer. "Yeah. Not only that thing we talked about, but something else. Let me just..."

Clark threw Lois a warning glance. She glared back and turned away, moving to her own desk.

Jimmy sifted through the deep drawer, pulling out candy wrappers and empty cans. "Aha! There you go." He pulled out a scrawled on notepad and a manila envelope. "This came for you yesterday. It had my name on the outer envelope, but I didn't open this one." He handed it to him. "I swear," he said earnestly

He smiled. "I believe you."

"And this..." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "This is what we talked about." He flipped through the notepad. "I have a friend who works at Providence Medical Insurance. That's the company that covers Luthorcorp. Lex has been to any therapist with a degree. Apparently, working on this amnesia, but..." He grinned. "Here's what's interesting. He's also been nosing around STAR Labs. I can't get all the details yet, but I hear he's been wooing chemists with large checks." He preened slightly. "I've been chatting up this grad student and she's a little loose in the lips, as well as the..."

"That's great," Clark cut in, not sure he wanted the details. "I have contact at STAR labs, too."

"Oh, yeah." Jimmy snapped his fingers. "That old guy. How's he doing? That was one crazy night, huh? I've never been hooked up to one of those thingamajigs before. A little..."

"Shh!" Clark stiffened. He could feel Lois close behind. He turned slowly.

She smiled stiffly and turned to Jimmy, stuffing something in her purse. "Jimmy, do you know where Doris keeps delivery records?"

He shrugged. "Usually, the guard logs them. There should be a binder at his stand. He's probably still asleep, but if you..."

"Thanks," she said, tossing Clark another phony smile before striding away.

He stared at her back. He wasn't the only one hiding something. He tried to X-ray her purse, but couldn't distinguish what she'd stuffed on from what papers were already in there before she left the room. "Thanks for everything, Jimmy," he said absently. "I'd better..."

"Uh, just one quick thing."

He turned back to Jimmy, who looked hopeful and hesitant at once. He waited.

"I'm totally cool with helping out, but I was wondering of you would do this one tiny, little thing for me. Just this once. Just one picture."

Clark sighed. "Sure."

"Awesome! How about now?" Jimmy grinned and moved toward the wall, where pictures of past editors hung, most scowling with smoky cigarettes in their hands. "I've been kind of hoping, so I hope you don't mind if I took the liberty of prepping this a little." He pulled a string and a large American flag unfurled, reaching from ceiling to floor. "I mean, it might be corny, but..." He shrugged and turned back to Clark. "I've watched Patton a couple million times and I thought this would be kind of cool." He nodded to the flag. "Could you..."

Clark nodded and approached the flag, turning to stand in front of it. He hadn't posed for a picture since his graduation portrait four years ago. He hadn't been too into that, either. But he'd done it for his parents. This, as awkward as he felt, he'd do, too. "How do you want me to..."

"I don't want you to pose," Jimmy said, looking in his direction, though his eyes were far off. "I just want you to... think of something that means a lot to you. Something that makes you what you are... A protector, a savior, a... There we go." Jimmy started snapping furiously as Clark stared across the bullpen at Lois. She was staring back with a look that was mingled amusement and... He could be imagining it, but... pride.

He held her gaze, wondering if, somewhere inside her, Chloe Sullivan was proud of what he'd become. You always expected me to save the world, Chloe. He smiled.

She smiled back, lifting an eyebrow. "Well, Jimmy," she breathed, her eyes still on Clark. "That's the photo of the year."

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

Lois glanced up as Clark reentered the bullpen, Superman safely under his suit.

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "Just went to get some coffee."

She smirked at him. "Where's the coffee?"

"I drank it," he said with a withering look. "And Jimmy's not even in here," he said, glancing around.

She stood, giggling to herself. "He rushed off to the darkroom to start on those photos and... How did you ever fool me?" she said, crossing her arms. "You are the worst liar in the history of liars."

"Like you're so much better." He glanced at her purse. "What was that you were stuffing in there?"

She lifted her chin. "You have your secrets, I have mine. So... Hey!" She glanced across the room. He had her purse. "That's not fair!" She ran toward him, but he already had it, was already reading it. "Clark, that's none of your..."

He held up the note made with red construction paper and magazine cuttings. "I hope you learned your lesson?" he quoted, his eyes angry. "Why wouldn't you tell me..."

"It's just from my attempted murderer," she said impatiently, snatching it back. "And I'll deal with it myself."

"But this is serious, Lois."

She snatched her purse back and shoved it back in, striding back towards the stairwell. "I find it hard to take someone who can't spell lesson seriously. Anyway, it's... nothing to worry about. I know who it is."

He stopped in front of her, staring hard at her and she finally sighed.

"Fine." She moved past him through the door. "Somebody got the wrong idea about my meeting with Lex."

"Somebody like who?" he asked from behind her.

"His stupid secretary. Okay? And she really is the stupidest..."

"Miss Tessmacher?"

She stopped in the stairwell and turned to him. "Do you just know everybody?"

"I just... I know she's Lex's secretary... from the party."

She narrowed her eyes. "Do you even know what a bad liar you are?" He started to speak again, but she put up her hand. "No. Seriously, Clark. Before I knew you were... you know who, I thought you were just a little dim. Kind of stumbling over your words. It's all clear now. All your hemmming and hawing and stuttering..." She stepped closer. "Lying. And badly, too." She turned away and continued up the stairs.

"Don't change the subject, Lois. If Eve was the one who drained your brake fluid..."

She gasped, stopping in front of the roof access door. "You even know her first name?"

"Then we should tell the police," he finished as if she hadn't spoken

"No," she said firmly, her hand on the door. "And if you go to them, I will burn this letter and deny everything." She stiffened and opened the door. "I have a plan." She looked at him over her shoulder. "But I'll just let it be my little secret. You know what that's like."

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

Clark stared at the wall between the kitchen and her room. She was taking a full shower, as she'd informed him stiffly. Between her secrets and his, his mind was spinning. He stared at the envelope in his hands. But this... This could be the key to everything. He tore it open, reading the note that preceeded the print-out.

Don't know exactly what you're looking for, Maggie Sawyer's blunt scrawl stated. But hope this helps.

He stared at the long list of numbers, his eyes sifting through them. He hoped it would, too. No outgoing. That wouldn't fit with what Dan said. Weeks ago. Dan had said that, too. His mind eliminated numbers. If it seemed too soon, it could...

"Aren't you changing to something more casual?" He glanced up. Lois was at the top of the small set of steps in her bathrobe, rubbing at her hair with a towell. She nodded at his slightly open shirt, the blue visible. "Leotards under suits is not exactly game day wear."

"They're not leotards, they're... spandex," he finished lamely.

"Like that's better."

He shoved the papers in his briefcase and closed it as she came closer. "Besides, we have five hours before the game."

She sat on the table, right next to his briefcase, and crossed her legs. "Five hours," she mused. "Whatever shall we do?"

He leaned back in his chair as her calf swung a little close to him. "You do realize that your feminine wiles will not get you into my briefcase."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Your briefcase? Is that what you think I want to get into?" She leaned over and grasped his tie. "Trust me, Clark, I have other things..."

"It locks, you know." He nodded at her other hand, which was grasping the latch. "You'd have to know the combination."

"Oh, fine," she groaned, leaping off the table and pacing to the kitchen. "But, for your information, I would have tried to get into your pants, too. I've definitely lost interest." She jerked the fridge open and pulled out a Chinese food carton, then two others. He watched as she carried them to the table, opening each. "Regardless, I am not leaving you alone until you tell me what Jimmy gave Superman." She smirked and pulled out a chunk of chicken, popping it into her mouth and staring hard at him as she chewed. "I can do this all day," she said, her mouth full.

He shrugged, trying to keep his eyes off the slight gap in the neck of her robe. "I could just leave."

"And I could just go to your room and cut up all your ugly ties."

He glanced down at his tie. "My ties aren't..."

"Oh, come on! It can't be that big of a deal. Just tell me."

"Maybe I'd tell you if you told me what your meeting with Lex was about."

"Okay." She nodded slowly. "You first."

He leaned back. "No, I think it's ladies first, traditionally."

She tilted her head and smiled. "I'm a feminist. I don't stand on tradition."

He held her gaze, unblinking. "I guess we aren't talking, then."

"I guess not."

He wasn't sure, but he thought she leaned forward. Regardless, it was the break in the tension that had him standing and reaching across the table, his chair clattering to the floor. His briefcase joined it and the food soon after.

"God, you're stubborn," she said against his mouth, her hands already tearing at his buttons.

"Like you aren't," he breathed, pulling at her sash and reaching into her robe to find warm skin.

"It's not fair." She tugged at the neckline of his suit. "I'm always nakeder than you. This stupid thing..."

He pulled away and sped out of it, his body covering hers again in seconds. "Now I'm nakeder."

"Nakeder's not even a word," she gasped as his hand moved between her legs.

"You started it," he said, kissing his way down her stomach to meet his hand.

Her robe was open, spread beneath her, still hanging on her arms as she leaned up. "Clark, I still... Ahh, fuck... I still want answers."

He couldn't give them to her. He pulled her clit into his mouth instead, coaxing low moans from her. They both needed answers, and not only from each other. They'd find them in time. They always had. For now, he was glad to have this. Even if it didn't mean as much to her, even if it solved nothing...

As her hands tugged at his hair and her cries filled the room, it was enough.

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Chapter Seventeen