Almost Friends (Chapter Twenty-One)

And then she saw him. Her breath caught in her throat. He was at the makeshift bar, laughing at something Jimmy said and she moved closer, not even aware she was doing it until she was right behind him.

He stiffened as she drew near, as if he knew she was there.

Her heart stopped as he turned, eyes lighting on her. She suddenly wanted to spill everything, every fear she'd ever had, how torturous it was, being away. How much she needed him to make her feel safe, remind her of who she was.

She didn't need to. He pulled her in, strong arms enfolding her. She'd never felt so safe.

"Missed you, Lane."

"I missed you, Perry," she choked out.

She rested her head on Perry White's shoulder, wondering what she was so afraid of. Surely not The Daily Planet. This was the one place that told her exactly who she was. There were no mysteries here except the kind that were quickly weeded out and slapped on the front page. She felt like a prodigal daughter who finally made her way home with such fear only to be embraced by her family... Then shook like a naughty toddler, which kind of ruined the moment.

"I tried your house, your cell, email... Did you just forget how to pick up a phone?"

She smiled to herself. Clark seemed to indicate Perry was lost without her. "Well, I was on vacation."

"So? Doesn't mean you don't call."

She found herself smiling outright. "Why? So you could make me come back to work?"

"No," he scoffed. "I might have just... wanted to see how you were doing."

"And then ask you to come back to work." Jimmy came around the bar. "Break it up, Chief." He moved between them and hugged Lois tight. "Welcome back! Just so you know," he whispered in her ear. "Don't ever leave me alone with him again."

She laughed and pulled back. "I might take another vacation someday."

"Fine. Take me with you. I make a great cabana boy."

"Excuse me?"

Lois turned to see Rachel, putting a plastic cup filled with something green and sludgy on the bar.

"Eh, we can bring her, too," Jimmy said with a shrug.

Rachel rolled her eyes and pushed herself between them, pulling Lois aside. With the breath on her, Lois braced herself for a drunken tirade. "Just so you know," Rachel began, weaving just a little. "It's Christmas."

"Yes, it is," Lois agreed.

"So I wanchooooo to know..."

Lois put a hand under her elbow, as she was listing to the right. "Uh-huh?"

Rachel graced her with a sloppy smile. "It's Christmas and I don't hate you and your hair looks cute... like for a change." Rachel seemed to be trying to fluff it, but ended up brushing past Lois' ear and leaning heavily on her.

"Thanks?" Lois gripped her other arm, trying to keep her upright.

Rachel just leaned on her shoulder, sighing. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Miss me?"

Rachel straightened up, eyes suddenly. "Shh! I got a new job. I, like, auditioned and they loved me and I'm gonna be so awesome. But don't tell Perry," she hissed loudly. "I haven't told him yet."

"Yes, you did, Rogers," Perry groaned from behind her. "About six times tonight."

Rachel looked over Lois' shoulder. "Oh, my God!" She grabbed onto a woman that was moving past them. "I'm gonna miss you so much."

Jimmy shook his head as she sailed off with her. "I don't think she works here, Babe... Oh, never mind." He grinned. "She might have had a few of my special margaritas."

Lois stared at him, wide-eyed. “Babe?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re kind of seeing each other and all.”

“Not that they disclosed it to HR,” Perry muttered.

“Aw, come on, Chief. No point filling out forms now. She won’t be here much longer.”

“I’m just saying.”

Lois stared at Rachel, then Jimmy. She’d had an inkling, but she didn’t think it would go down when she stepped away for a measly two weeks. She missed all the good gossip. "What's the job?" she asked, dazed with all the news.

"Weather girl on Metro 7," Perry supplied with a sneer.

"Yeah. I'm dating a hot weather girl." Jimmy grinned wider. "So how do you like the theme, huh?"

Lois looked around at the Holly, palm trees, paper snowflakes, and sombreros. "It's festive," she said carefully.

"Yeah. I know. Everyone goes with this generic, Dickens crap. Not me. I went Mexican. But you didn't." He peered at her. "I mean, you're not tan. Where'd you go, anyway?"

"Yes, where did you go?" Perry cut in, stabbing at a lime in his seltzer water. "And why didn't they have phones?"

Somehow, she didn't think I never even left the state would work. "Maine," she lied, the name popping into her head. "Very nice B&B. Just wanted to get away." She poked her around Jimmy to Perry. "They had phones. I just thought it would be nice to unplug for a bit."

"I get it," Jimmy said, though Perry still frowned. "And no reason to plug in right now." He turned to the bar and started pouring from a blender. "In fact, let me offer you one of my special..." He stilled in the middle of handing her a plastic cup and stared out at the dance floor. "Is that Wolanwitszpiech? Getting a little close to the mistletoe." He headed to separate Rachel from the copy editor, leaving Lois holding something red and sludgy.

"What is this special thing?" she asked, staring at it suspiciously.

"Just a margarita," Perry said. "with red food coloring. Go on. It's fine."

She shrugged and took a sip, then nearly spit it out. "Fine?" She gasped, her eyes watering. "It's pure tequila."

"Just wanted to see the look on your face." Perry chuckled.

She bumped his shoulder and leaned on the bar, looking over the dance floor. Jimmy seemed to have gotten Rachel away, and under the mistletoe with him. "Good for Rachel." Lois said, nodding to them. "She seems happy for a change."

"Weather girl," Perry sneered. "How the hell can anybody be happy about a job like that?"

"Probably more money in it. More exposure..."

"Doesn't matter. Daily Planet to weather girl is a step down."

Lois had to agree.

"I don't know," Perry sighed. "It just seems like everyone's leaving print. I have to replace Rachel. Harrison's got a job on LSPN. Daly quit because he makes more blogging about finance. Doris wants to retire and..."

"Doris?" She turned to him. "She hasn't really..."

"No. But she's talking about it. Her sister raises llamas or emus or whatever in California. Keeps going on about the climate there and her arthritis."

"I guess that would be nice... for her," Lois said dully.

"Not for me," Perry groaned. "What's the point in Jimmy sneaking me cigars if there's no one to sneak past?"

Lois gave him a sad smile. "I could always shake him down for you once in a while."

He put a hand on her shoulder, still staring at the dance floor. "I'm glad you're back, Lane. Though you could have called."

"And have you make me come right back to work?" She shook her head. "Wouldn't have been much of a vacation."

"I might have also asked you about your vacation." He turned to her. "I'd like to think I'm not an ogre. You can talk to me, you know, about anything." His eyes searched hers.

She suddenly wondered just how much he saw.

"I'm not blind, you know. I know you needed this break. If I work you too hard..."

"No, Perry." She impulsively leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Really. It wasn't about you or about work. I just needed some time to... find myself."

"Sounds a little new-age for me." He chuckled. "So did you?"

Strangely, she had. Right here. The very place she left. "I did," she said, wiping at the lipsick on his cheek. Funny how things worked out.

He squeezed her arm. "Glad you did. And not a moment too soon, with Clark running off to find himself now or whatever the hell..."

"Clark?"

"Oh, yeah. He's decided, with you getting two weeks, he should, too."

"Clark?"

Perry sighed. "It feels like everything's changing."

Lois nodded dumbly. How was she supposed to work with Clark, oh-so-platonically, if Clark wasn't even here?

"I'd better find Alice," Perry said, laying his seltzer down and giving her shoulder a final squeeze. "She's had a few of Jimmy's margaritas, too."

She stood, staring after him, wondering why everything had to change in the one place that was, she was now realizing, more of a home than her apartment. Shouldn't you always come home to find everything just as you left it? Not that Rachel brightened her day, but she was a part of it. Sometimes she was almost pleasant... almost. Daly and Harrison might not be her lunch buddies, but she was used to seeing them. And Doris... It didn't even bear thinking about.

Of course, now Perry would be agonizing over new hires, probably have her check them out, too. Not to mention picking up the slack from people leaving. If she had to cover Rachel's entertainment beat after working all day, it would be such a headache and...

She found herself smiling. It was kind of nice to have normal, fixable things to worry about. Whatever hassles came from this change, she at least knew they wouldn't go on forever. It wouldn't be so terrible if... She spied Doris near the food tables, remembering that one thing would be absolutely terrible.

She rushed to her. "You're not leaving."

Doris turned to her, a mini empanada falling to the floor as she hugged her. "Lois! I haven't heard from you for over a week." She pulled back, slapping her shoulder. "I thought you might call back after all those questions. I had a few of my own. I never even got to ask you where you went, you..." She shook her head and brushed Lois' bare shoulder. "You didn't take my advice. I don't see any tan lines."

"I went to Maine. I'm sorry I didn't call back. And you can't retire. You're only... um..."

"Sixty-nine," Doris said with a raised eyebrow.

Lois stepped back and stared at her. "Really?"

"Yes. But bless you for thinking it could be less. Lois..." She squeezed her arm. "It wouldn't be until March and... Well, I'm pushing seventy. The good people of Transnational won't keep me around for much longer, based on that alone. I've heard rumblings about my position being redundant and..."

"No, it's not."

"I'll be leaving sooner or later. I'd rather go on my own steam than be edged out."

"That would never happen. You know Perry would vouch for your competency and intelligence and... how much we need you."

"And I'd appreciate it. Lord knows it's nice to be needed." She smiled sadly. "But I'd rather think of what I need right now. I have a sister in California."

"Yes. Perry said that." She peered closely at her. "Emus? Really?"

"There are other perks. No more humid summers and freezing winters. Plus the men..." Doris giggled. "There are some healthy specimens in California. They even drive."

"What does that have to..."

"Trust me. At my age, that's like washboard abs." She chuckled and turned back to the food, but stared past it. "Speaking of abs..."

Lois' eyes widened as Clark strolled through the door, passing the coat check as he, again, had no coat. "What makes you think Clark has... abs?" Well, she knew he did and that washboard might be an understatement, but Doris didn't. And she didn't want to think about Clark's abs, anyway.

"I have a very vivid imagination," Doris said slyly. "He missed you, you know."

Lois rolled her eyes. He saw her plenty. "Oh, come on."

"I swear, that boy must have stared at your desk every few minutes." She giggled. "Kind of gave Krelling the creeps when he was updating your anti-virus."

"Maybe he just... likes my pictures or..."

"Well, if you don't get him under the mistletoe, I will." Doris waved her hand. "Clark!"

"Don't..." Lois ducked her head as Clark spotted them. She wasn't ready. She had a very good speech about coworkers and professional boundaries and leaving the past in the past that was all ready for a Clark that was going to actually be here. She had nothing prepared for a Clark that was taking two weeks off... and for what? She glanced up as he stopped on the other side of the table, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Hi, Doris... Lois." His eyes glanced at her before quickly resting on Doris again. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, indeed." Doris nudged Lois. "We were just discussing which one of us would get you under the mistletoe."

"No, we weren't," Lois said, aghast, as Clark's eyes landed on her and stayed. "You were. I was just... here."

"Well, we need to send the boy off properly. He'll be leaving us soon."

Clark looked like he'd swallowed a pickle. "Just for two weeks," he said quickly. "I was going to tell you, but..."

Lois forced a laugh. "Why would you tell me? I mean, we only worked on that one story. It's not like we're... partners or something." She kept her smile bland. "Anyway, Perry told me. Hope you have a great time. I went to Maine," she said loudly. "It was gorgeous. A real winter wonderland. Loved it. Cranberries."

He nodded slowly. "Maine. Sounds great. Maybe I'll stop by there on my way to... Maryland."

"Maryland?" Doris scoffed. "Maine's not on the way to..."

"Guess geography wasn't your best subject," Lois cut in. "You know what, Doris? We do need to send Clark off. How about a dance?"

"Well, I..."

"Great!" She moved around the table and grabbed his hand, dragging him to the dance floor to the fading strains of Besame Mucho. "You really are the worst liar," she said as he stopped short against her. Not that she was much better. Cranberries.

"I wasn't planning on being asked where I was going," he said, looking anywhere but at her. "I only came here to tell you..."

"That you're going away for two weeks," she supplied, "and obviously not to Maryland," she finished, putting her right hand in his left. "So where exactly are you going?"

He took her waist, staring above her head as Ella Fitzgerald began to plaintively ask what some guy was doing New Years Eve. "It doesn't really matter."

She studied his face. "I think it does. It can't be with the guys or Bart wouldn't have called me twice about how bored he'll be this week and do I want to try out that Indian place now that I'm in the city and..."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said as they swayed. "Besides, I thought you might want a break from me."

She stiffened slightly. "I'm not saying I don't, I just... You have something." She stared closely at him. "I don't know if Superman or Clark does, but one of you has something."

"Lois, I really can't say. I..."

"No. Fine. I get it. I already horned in on one of your stories, maybe you'd rather I stay out of it."

"I never said you horned in."

"If we're going to work in the same place in the future, then I need to respect your boundaries." She pinned him with a glance. "As you respect mine."

His eyes finally stayed on hers. "Respect yours?"

She sighed and stared over his shoulder. "I had a speech, Clark. It was good, too. But with you going away, it feels stupid to give it."

"You could give me the gist of it." His head leaned into her line of vision. "I don't want those hours to... go to waste or anything."

"What hours?"

"Uh... Nothing. Never mind. I just mean that I'm ready to hear what you have to say. You have every right to be angry and..."

"I'm not angry," she said.

"Lois. I know I hit you with a lot of..."

"Yes, you did. It doesn't mean I'm angry. I mean... I guess I was. But not at you. You're just filling in the blanks I chose to make."

"The jury's still out on whether you chose to..."

"I think I was mostly mad at myself," she went on, rather than let him bring up the tired argument over the mess she'd made. "Or not even myself... the old me. But I've decided to let it go. The past doesn't matter as much as... going on. We need to figure out how to go on. And maybe this is good, this time apart. Maybe it lets us figure out who we are to each other. Not then, but now. I mean, the new year is coming." She shrugged. "Time to decide what kind of baggage to move on with." She held his gaze. "And I want to choose none. whatever you and I did then, it doesn't matter now." She brushed his shoulder. "You can be a hell of a friend otherwise five of the most powerful beings in the free world wouldn't be here in Metropolis just to help you. In choosing what baggage to say goodbye to... Well, it doesn't mean I want to say goodbye to you." She smiled and stared at his tie. "Just so you know, this wasn't my speech. I think my speech was supposed to make you apologize, not me."

"You? Lois, you have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, I do. If I really want to put this behind me. Clark..." She glanced up and found his face closer, his body closer. They had swayed closer somehow. She spied Doris over his shoulder, waving at the mistletoe. She glanced up. They were nearly under it. She pulled away. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this..."

He nodded and put his hands at his side. "I get it. If you need time, then..."

"No. I mean. Not here." She grasped his hand and weaved through the crowd toward the elevators.

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

He moved behind her, keeping his eyes on the back of her head, since he was definitely not going to ogle her in a tight dress... or he'd try his damnedest not to. She looked beautiful tonight, though, and he wondered if it was okay to tell her. On the one hand, there were the many times when she had looked her best and he'd said nothing. On the other hand, he didn't know how welcome a compliment from him was.

She let go of his hand as they drew up to the elevator. She leaned in to press the up button, a dark curl falling forward. Her hair was curled, shiny, and it looked like she may have had it colored. It was a little darker, a little richer, as if she'd put forth just a little more effort tonight. He decided he had to say something. "You look," lovely, gorgeous, irresistible, "good in green," he settled on, staring at the doors. "It brings out your eyes. And the hair and all... It's... nice."

She glanced at him, then stood back, folding her hands. "Thank you. I wasn't going to dress up, but Linda was kind of... Linda. Anyway... Thanks. I... I like your tie."

He supposed she must. It was about the only part of him she'd looked at tonight. Not that he was any better, trying so hard not to look at things he couldn't have. He didn't know how to act, mostly because he'd planned on being contrite. But she wasn't angry. She said so and he believed her. He'd thought she would be. She'd certainly seemed so the last time he saw her. But she seemed to want to apologize, which was just mystifying.

The doors opened and he followed her in as she pressed the one.

"Short trip," he said uselessly.

"Well, there were people all over the stairs. I didn't want to, you know, talk to them."

"I'm surprised you want to talk to me."

"I told you. I'm not mad at you."

"That's what so surprising. And the fact that you think you have to apologize..."

"No. I know I have to apologize. And especially to you." The doors opened and she moved off, heels clicking into the darkened bullpen.

He followed her. "If anyone needs to apologize, it's me. I..."

"You what? You watched me erase my memories? You took this job to protect me after what I did? You let me lash out at you constantly?"

"I... That's not how it is."

"It's exactly how it is, but let's not argue that for a second."

"I think we have to argue..."

She stopped at her desk and held a hand. "Give me a second." She stared down at her desk, at the piles of envelopes and files, then took her chair and sighed, leaning back. "Good to be home." She shrugged. "I might not feel that way tomorrow when I have to sort through this mess, but for now..." She sighed again, then glanced at the partition that separated her desk from Rachel’s. “So Jimmy and Rachel, Huh? Who knew?”

“I… kind of did.”

“So that was the office gossip you wouldn’t spill.”

“It wouldn’t have been fair to Jimmy.”

“Fair enough, but I kind of knew before you kind of knew, just so you know. I mean, Rachel said something and I…” She lifted up a pile, something red peeking out. "What's this?" She pulled out a bag.

"Oh, that's..."

"Was there Secret Santa and no one told me? I didn't know." She groaned. "Now someone went to all this trouble and I didn't get anyone any..."

"It's from me," he cut in. "I just..."

"Clark, don't do that. I haven't even shopped at all and now I feel..."

"It's not a present. I mean, it's not your Christmas present. It's more of a replacement."

She stared at the bag again. "A replacement?"

"I kind of... ruined something of yours."

She dug her hand in and pulled out a book. "The T.S. Elliot collection." Her eyes widened. "I had this... I mean, not this exactly. Mine was a different anthology, but... I was looking for that."

"It was my fault. I messed up your book. I tried to find the same one, but this was the closest I could get. I checked the table of contents and it has most of the same stuff."

"Oh. Thanks." She sounded disappointed.

"If you want a different one, I can keep looking."

"I don't want a different one. I just... There was this poem in there that was the first... good thing I found about Chloe, I mean, back when I thought she was kind of evil. When I found that book, it was... all there. Little stains, folded corners, worn pages that I knew must have been read to death and... I don't know. I guess I miss that one. But it's f..."

"It's not completely ruined," Clark said quickly. "It's just the binding's broke. I can get it right now." He started to pull at his tie.

"Don't," she cut in. "It's not an emergency."

"I never said it was, but if you want it back..."

"You don't have to rush off into the night because I want a book. You can drop it by your mother's at Christmas, since it looks like I won't be seeing you until then." She leaned back, regarding him again. "You will be there for Christmas, right?"

"Of course." He paused. "I think." That was a problem he hadn't counted on. How deep was this cover? Did Sawyer expect him to work Christmas? "If it's up to me, I will."

"Interesting," she drawled. "So you have chosen to take two weeks, but you don't know if you can choose, even with all your power, to come to your mother's house for Christmas."

He pursed his lips, thinking he had a bigger problem right here. "Why don't I just get that book now?"

She threw up her hands. "Fine. Don't tell me. But forget the book. It can wait."

"Are you sure?" He was thinking he try fixing it first, anyway.

"You can take your time rescuing a book." She stretched and stood. "The little children of the world can still look up to Superman."

He winced. "Children... Damn it!" Superman was supposed to be at John Byrne Elementary tomorrow for a "stranger! danger!" speech and Clark was supposed to meet with Turpin and Sawyer at eight. How was he going to swing that? "Would have been hard enough to get out for with Perry," he muttered. "With them..." He really needed to start planning better.

"What would be?" She was leaning forward in her seat. "And with who?"

He also really needed to stop talking about anything involving this in front of her. "Can't say." He should have stuck with that. It was about the only good response to anything.

She stood. "Fine. I give up. And for real this time. Anyway, I didn't want to talk about that."

He smirked just a little. "Could've fooled me."

"Well, I don't. I came up here to apologize."

"And I still don't see why you have to."

"You wouldn't."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you just... take everything I dish out. You want to rush off to get me a book. You worry about me more than almost... Linda. You constantly look at me with this guilty, hangdog look on your face. And I'm starting to see why." She sighed. "Clark, I don't want to live in the past. I want to just... go on. And I think that apologizing for my part in all this is an important part of that. So I'm going to and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding.

"I know I can't change the past, but I'm sorry for it." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about choosing to erase my memories."

"But what if you didn't? Kevin Grady can be persuasive and..."

"Stop." She gave him a small smile "You know, I think I'm going to take advantage of your disease to please one more time and ask you let me say my piece before you comment."

"But..."

"Please."

He gritted his teeth, but nodded.

"I have no way of knowing if what I did was for the best," she went on. "Maybe I'd be in a very healthy place right now if I just got some old fashioned analysis, but I obviously didn't and this is what happened. But, when I step back and look at it, my life is pretty sweet. I have the best job in the world, an apartment that's rent-controlled, which is important, and good friends. Friends I mostly let go and I regret that I could have ever done that. But I like where I am now. I like my life now. I think I could even love it if I can just keep moving on." She looked down. "Another thing I regret is my behavior. I've been lashing out at all of you. The more things that came to light, the more I've isolated myself and made you all feel unwelcome for... just for trying to help me. I have no excuse except that I've been frustrated and angry and taking it out on everyone, and on you in particular."

He opened his mouth.

She looked up. "Not done yet."

He closed it, but not happily.

"I keep pushing and pulling at you and I know now it's because of this... strange relationship we used to share. Speaking of that... I think there's blame to share in that. For my part, I think I was young and stupid and, from all accounts, crazy about you. And I let that drag me into a... sexual relationship with someone who, at the time, didn't know what he was doing."

"But it's not like that," he burst out. "Not exactly. See, I put the ring on and..."

"Does it matter, Clark?" she asked, her voice tired. "Is it useful? Me knowing every single thing about something that doesn't exist anymore? I need to choose what I want to go on with and, whatever we were, I need to let that go. I think we both do."

He froze, whatever he was going to say forgotten in light of what she was gearing up to say.

"Clark, maybe I don't know every detail, but I don't need to. I don't want this to turn into some 'forest for the trees' thing. I have the big picture. You and Chloe... I think you made a good investigative team. I think you made good friends. Obviously, there was attraction there. Just those three things together isn't the kind of thing that makes a relationship and that's, I think, why there never was one. So I've decided to stop focusing on that or resenting you for that. You don't owe me anything."

He went numb. That was along the lines of what he thought she might say.

She shrugged and gave a sad smile. "I get that now. Maybe it's something to do with being older, wiser, and so far away from all of it. And I think that..." She gave a dry laugh. "I mean, you were both just... dumb kids that made a mistake getting involved that way. I also think that, given our more recent forays into intimacy, we worked some of that tension off, so... I think we can end up as really good friends."

He stared at the floor, realized that he could probably talk now, but he couldn't think of a word to say.

"I think another person I need to make amends to is Lana, given the events of the past... Lana never knew, did she?"

He thought he definitely should talk now, but he couldn't get anything out. He wondered that she could talk about anything else after what she just said. He managed to shake his head.

"I figured." She sighed. "I'm not saying I'm going to make a full disclosure, but the least I can do is stop treating her like an unwelcome interloper. If you see her, just... just tell her I'm looking forward to seeing her on Christmas. It's a step, at least. Wait... what am I thinking?"

He looked up, half-hoping she'd take it all back, but that couldn't be it. She was laughing, after all.

"You're going away... or are you?" She shrugged with a smile. "Okay. Maybe I haven't given up."

His entire body stiffened. "I might end up seeing her. I don't know. If I do, I'll tell her." The words came out sort of woodenly, forced out.

"Well, that leaves me something to work with. I'll just ruminate on that and..."

"I'm sorry," he said, because he just couldn't happily chit-chat anymore. He really couldn't. "I need to go." He turned and moved robotically toward the stairs.

"Clark?" Her voice cracked slightly and he stopped. He had to. "We're friends, right?"

He turned, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Friends." He didn't look at her long. He'd been sort of joking inside before, about looking at things he can't have. Now he really was. And he couldn't do it. "But I really need to go." He sped out and down the stairs, weaving his way through the crowd, maybe not as carefully as usual. A few drinks spilled and there were more than a few loud exclamations.

He just couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

It was over. It was actually over.



PREVIOUS CHAPTER

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO