Almost Lovers (Chapter Ten)

Banner by Summerstarr882

Thanks to AV again for the beta work. 

Now for a red and shiny New Year's Day ;)

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Chapter 10

“Tom?” It was the third time she’d said his name and he still hadn’t moved. “Thomas, it’s a green light.” He only stared ahead. 

It was only when the cars behind him started honking loudly that he started and turned to her. “Sorry. What?”

“The light’s green,” she said, brows drawing together as she stared at him.

“Oh. Yeah.” He seemed slightly shaky as he finally moved. Then again, what person that stumbled out of that club and into the wintry air hadn’t been, teeth chattering and soaking wet?

There was more to it, though. Something was wrong with him. Something had been wrong with all of them. Coat checkers had rushed in and out after the firefighters left, beleaguered parking attendants tried vainly to get every car at once. There should have been outrage and demands between all the pampered politicians, horribly(?) important businessmen, and thugs. Just look at my dress!… Where’s my car?... You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!… Do you know who I am? But no one complained. Aside from chattering teeth and shivering breaths, it had been so quiet, as if everyone was in deep contemplation.

“I think we all need to talk,” Clark had said in the alleyway. His eyes had landed on hers last of all and stayed longest... and she knew. They’d all seen him rush to the door, but only she knew that sprinkler system wasn’t set off by some mundane electrical fire. Something had been happening in there, something only Clark had been aware of. 

She supposed they’d all talk, untangle this mess. But she had a feeling that Turpin and Grant wouldn’t be privy to everything. As things stood now, she wasn’t sure if she would.

She stared at Thomas, wishing he’d let her drive. He’s insisted he was fine, but he seemed dazed, as if he were somewhere else entirely. “That must have been some speech,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. He seemed so on-edge. Even with the heat blasting, he seemed so stiff and cold.

He unclenched slightly and glanced at her as he drove. “Speech?”

“Mannheim’s speech,” she clarified. “I don’t know what he said, but he seems to have stunned all of you into silence.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

“What did he say?”

“Uh… Happy New Year and… I don’t remember.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe it’s just the shock or cold or something. F*cked up night.”

She’d never heard him swear before. It seemed strange to hear it now. “Yeah. That sprinkler incident kind of cut things short. Probably not a lot of reason for that victory drink.”

“Huh?” He stopped at the red light, then shook himself. “Oh. That. Probably not. I’m just… tired.”

“So you’ve said.” She stared at him worriedly as he turned down her street. He was just tired or just cold. But something told her not to push. He seemed so brittle, as if he’d fall to pieces. Besides, she had other ways to get her answers. “Don’t suppose my special pen survived the surprise shower.”

He pulled it out of his pocket and wordlessly handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She tucked it in her purse and continued to stare at him, even when he’d stopped the car. “Tom,” she began hesitantly. “Did something happen in there?”

He turned to her, seemed to stare right through her. “I don’t know. Maybe it was just the speech. I just… I remember looking around as everyone was yelping and running out the door and… I felt so angry. Supposed public servants, rubbing shoulders with the scum of the earth. How is that okay? How can anyone sit by and let that happen? And this is a town with Superman. How are these sleazebags even roaming free?”

She shook her head. “Superman might be something special, but he can’t be everywhere, take care of everything. From what I know, he doesn’t even make a citizen’s arrest unless someone’s caught in the act.” 

He grunted and stared at the road again. “Yeah, I guess you might catch the odd thug that way. It’s the law, the lawmakers you have to watch out for. They’re the ones taking the dirty pay-offs and springing the f*cking traps.”

“Not all of them,” she said bracingly, wishing she could snap him out of this mood. He’d seen these problems before, but never seemed this bitter about it. She kind of wondered where that optimistic young intern was right now. “You work for one of the good ones.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. You can’t fix things, laboring away and hoping things get better. Maybe you need to get on the other side, right in the belly of the beast, and burn him from the inside.”

“Tom…”

“Ignore me.” He sighed and gave her a tired smile. “It’s been a long night.”

She tried to smile as well. “Agreed.”

“Am I a complete jerk if I don’t walk you to your door?”

“No. God, no. You don’t need to scamper around in a wet tux. I can probably make it ten feet on my own.” She chuckled, but peered closely at him. “But are sure you’re okay to drive home?”

“I hardly drank any…”

“I don’t mean that. You just seem… confused.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen things so clearly.”

She waved at her front door and watched him drive away before she moved back down the steps and to the parking garage. 

It had been a long night. But it wasn’t over yet.

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

“We got nothing, Kent! And all because you…”

“But I didn’t blow my cover,” Clark said, for what felt like the hundredth time now. 

“Then who did?” Turpin threw his hands up.

“Technically, you did.”

“And how do you figure that?”

Clark sighed. “Can you just get her in here?” Cat, he suspected, was in another room with Sawyer and he didn’t feel that was necessary. The only way to salvage this entire operation was for all of them to talk. “And maybe we should wait for Lois to…”

“Why? So all of you can get your story straight?”

“So we can save this damned thing!” Turpin and Sawyer seemed convinced there was some kind of reporters’ conspiracy undermining them. Clark leaned over the table. “Listen, I didn’t know Cat was the leak to The Star until she came clean and, even then, I didn’t tell her I was anyone else but Irving Clemp. Why the hell do you think she was so pissed off when you and Lois clued her in to my name?”

Turpin waved a hand. “Yeah, we’ll get to you bringing your partner on board in a second.”

“I didn’t bring her on board. She just showed up. I didn’t…”

He stopped as the door opened and Cat sauntered in, glowering at him. Sawyer was close behind. “It checks out,” Sawyer said dully.

Turpin pushed his chair back. “What does?”

“Apparently, Kent was just this ‘dumb and sweet type’ named Clemp, according to her.”

“Yeah. So much I knew,” Cat muttered, taking a chair in the corner, crossing her legs and loudly tapping her foot against the wall.

“See?” Clark gestured to her. “I kept my cover!” 

“But you didn’t tell us she was the leak,” Turpin growled, standing.

“And why would I do that? She’s looking for a story and she’s training the others. It has nothing to do with us and, if you guys found out and found some way to pull her out, the opening night doesn’t go off and…”

“It was ruined, anyway, with that little impromptu rainstorm,” Sawyer grumbled.

Clark stared at the table, knowing he was to blame there, but – damn it – someone had to stop… whatever was happening. He still wasn’t sure. “That aside,” he said slowly, looking up, “I didn’t think there was any point in telling you she was the leak when she wasn’t… leaking anymore,” he finished lamely.

Cat stopped tapping. “So you didn’t rat on me?”

“Of course I didn’t!”

Sawyer closed in on him. “But you did call your little girlfriend down and…”

“I didn’t…”

The door flew open again. “He didn’t call me down.” It was Lois. 

A panting man in uniform drew up behind her, panting. “Detective Sawyer, I was just escorting her to…”

“No one called me down,” she said, moving into the room. “If the biggest thug in the city, son of the biggest thug in the city’s history, is opening a club, then any reporter who’s not a complete idiot wants to be there. I scored a date.”

Sawyer nodded to the uniform, who closed the door. “You just happened to show up where your partner…”

“He’s not my partner. He’s not my… anything,” she said, not looking at Clark. “Clark Kent took vacation time and me being there has nothing to do with him. I have a connection in Congressman Sharp’s office and I used it to get in.”

Clark stared at her. So that meant it wasn’t a date. It seemed like a petty thing to be happy about, but…

“And what’s this connection?”

Clark was ready to answer that she was friends with Sharp’s wife, but Lois spoke up…

“I’m dating one of his interns.”

…and burst his balloon to bits.

Sawyer groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “So now you know. Now you have your juicy story about the police infiltrating Mannheim’s…”

“I don’t know anything,” Lois said, opening her purse and digging inside. “I know my night was cut short with that sprinkler malfunction. It’s a shame the Planet won’t get anything.” She slapped a pen on the table. Clark knew that pen. “Maybe something about their shoddy workmanship,” she said with a shrug.

Sawyer picked up the pen. “What…”

“It’s a recorder. It was running the whole time.” She turned to Clark. “And if I knew that this was police business, then…” She shook her head and stepped back. “Listen, I’m not an idiot. I know putting these sleazebags away trumps a story. I’m not about to impede an ongoing investigation. I sent the PD every picture I took tonight.” She gestured to the pen. “And you can see what you can get out of that. Have fun with it,” she sighed. “And you might want to talk to Patrick Reilly about the work he did there, maybe buy him the good whiskey first.” She nodded. “So… I’m just going to get out of these heels.”

They all stared as she pulled open the door.

She took a deep breath. “Happy new year,” she said before she strolled out.

The uniform appeared again. “Should I detain her for…”

“No,” Sawyer said, sinking into a chair, clutching the pen. “Let her go. And check our inboxes,” she added. She turned to Turpin. “So where does this leave us?”

“Still working for Moxie’s, I guess.” Turpin shrugged. He nodded at Cat. “But what about her?”

There was no other choice. It was past two by the time they all left, having brought Cat Grant on board officially. She’d seemed rather excited about being part of an official police investigation.

He was actually kind of glad for her. She’d seemed so determined to do something that mattered. Yet he kind of wished she hadn’t been so quick to forgive him. By the time she dropped him off at his motel, she’d made it clear he was forgiven… and that his status as a police liaison “only made him cuter.”

He almost preferred her angry. 

By the time he made it back to his squalid room, he was tired and annoyed and wanted nothing more than to sink to his lumpy bed and sleep until he found out what fresh hell Mannheim had planned for his employees.

Unfortunately, there was someone sitting on his bed.

“Lois?”

She stood quickly and a notebook slid to the floor.

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

It wasn’t like she’d planned to snoop. She’d planned to go home. But she was too wound up. She wasn’t going to end this night without knowing what Clark knew – and not for a story, for Superman. 

She’d planned to wait in her car for him, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving her car running in this neighborhood. It might be only too tempting to the types around here. And it wasn’t like she could wait outside in this weather. The only thing to do was pick his lock and wait in his room. She was rather surprised she could do it so easily. She’d only just bought the kit. Then again, word was Chloe Sullivan treated locked doors like welcome mats. Maybe this was something left from her former life, the one she tried not to dwell on.

It was getting harder to keep to that. It wasn’t as if she was afraid of the past. She just didn’t see what good it did, thinking of a person who didn’t even exist now, dwelling on things she barely remembered. Then there was Christmas. That memory, sort of simple and warm, of her and Clark at some other Christmas. That past had always seemed sort of tragic and dangerous, but there were moments when this painful nostalgia kicked in. It wasn’t the same as for anyone else, she supposed. She couldn’t remember, after all. And sometimes, maybe especially at holidays, it felt like an unending void.

“Great way to start the year,” she muttered, looking around at the bare room. Why was she whining? Despite the keen sting of surrendering all her leads to the police and the awkward end to her date, this year might not be starting off so bad. 

There was one resolution she was getting out of the way. She’d fix things with Clark. No more awkward silences and stares. They needed to have a better working relationship and that included now, even when he wasn’t technically at work. Irving Clemp may be an identity she could have no connection to, but Superman wasn’t. And he could call it horning in all he wanted, but she wasn’t about to stand aside if she could help. She couldn’t jump in under cover, that much was clear, but he needed her nonetheless. It wasn’t like he could talk to Turpin and Sawyer about the super side of things. He needed someone to bounce things off whether he liked it or not.

She nodded to herself and stiffly sat in a chair next to the dresser. “What a vacation,” she sighed. Even though hers was about as much of a vacay as his, she didn't have to live like this. She glanced around her at the cheap, particle-board furniture, peeling wallpaper, cockroach lumbering across the musty carpet… She shrieked and took off her shoe. “Nasty little bugger,” she muttered, moving after it. Her building was fumigated regularly, so it wasn’t like she saw them often. But when she did, the instinct was kill, kill, kill… Unless Linda was around spouting Oliver’s nonsense about upsetting the balance of nature. Then it was very quietly kill, kill, kill.

She moved behind it, waiting for it to move off the carpet onto the dingy tile for the kill shot. But she waited just a hair too long and it skittered with sudden speed to the wall. She ran after it, hitting blindly at the floor, but it was useless. It slipped right into a break in the fake wood paneling below the peeling paper. She slipped her shoe back on and gave the wall a disgruntled kick.

It kind of kicked back. Or at least one square of it did, falling drunkenly on her shin. “What kind of hellhole is this?” she hissed before she realized this wasn’t just some random symptom of disrepair. “Oh,” she drawled, getting down on one knee and pulling the piece aside, “got yourself a hidey-hole, Clark.”

It was too dark to see in and she told herself it wasn’t snooping if she just maybe got her flashlight, just to make sure it was Clark’s. Hell, it could very well be a map to the possibly living Morgan Edge’s hideaway. Yet she knew it was Clark’s even before the deep red and blue bundle tipped her off. She told herself it still wasn’t snooping when she pulled out a notebook. 

Hadn’t she just decided she’d be helping him whether he liked it or not? There could be notes or observations. Reading it over would probably save time when he got back and…

Dear Lois,

That was all she saw before she snapped it shut. So it wasn’t about Moxie’s. She stilled, holding her hand firmly over the cover. This was snooping. She was snooping in his personal things and she had no right to…

“But it’s addressed to me,” she breathed. Wasn’t she almost required to read it? Still, he hadn’t given it to her. And, considering how much it upset her that he had apparently had some letter she’d never given him in his possession… Well, maybe that just evened things out. Just a peek…

She let it fall open, just to any page, just to see what it was about…

…and I wish I hadn’t run off on you that night, but I was so angry. You’d already nearly died healing my injuries and, there you were, going after that thing with my face, putting the ring on it, putting yourself at risk again.

Yet running off put you in the worst kind of danger. The creature had been there, anyway. I left you to deal with the thing alone. And, I know, you liked to insist I call it Jonathon, but it’s not something I can do. I suppose I never felt that connection or pity that you did. Kind of impossible after how it hit me with fistfuls of kryptonite for what felt like hours.

Anyway, you did help. You pretty much did it all. All I did was show up to suck it into the crystal as you twitched in mid-air. God help me, but I’m still mad at you even if I have no right to be.

No right. She had no right to read this. It wasn’t given to her. And why even look? She had only the barest idea what he was saying. Maybe if she just read a little more. Just to clear that up. It wasn’t every day a girl read about herself twitching in mid-air. If she just finished this part, she could forget the whole thing and…

“Oh, for Christ's sake!" She opened to the beginning. It was addressed to her. It held answers. What the hell kind of reporter was she if she didn’t look?

Dear Lois,

I need to say it, write it, even if you never read it. I don’t know, right now, if I hope you will or hope you won’t. But I need to say it. Tonight, you said our history together was a youthful mistake and I nodded and tried not to argue. But it was more than that. Every horrible, beautiful bit of it matters and it can’t be waved away just like that.

She stood and nearly closed it, then. Because it was almost too much. She knew. Of course she knew. She knew he felt things so clearly that she could barely grasp. And it was always too much. Yet she couldn’t stop reading…

I see it all clearly now. After training, there were no hidden corners in my mind, no way of boxing up selfish impulses into some other person and calling him Kal. Because there never was a Kal. You were right about that. I think the wall between what I considered me and what I considered him fell away, bit by bit, until you finally tore it down.

You’d think this would make me a more enlightened person and less likely to do stupid things that push you further and further away. I wish it did. We wouldn’t be here now, practically estranged even with this undeniable connection.

She nearly stumbled to the bed because… she felt it, too. Why was it so hard to face that?

I guess if I wanted to start anywhere, it would be the summer of 2003. That was where it all started with you and me. Before that, we were friends. Horribly confused friends with no idea how to feel about each other, but friends. You hadn’t figured it out yet, that I was different and I hardly knew how to handle it. I supposed that’s why I ran away, spent that lost summer in Metropolis, put on that ring and called myself Kal. I thought it was the start of a new life, one where I didn’t care about anyone and no one cared about me. Less people get hurt that way.

I should have known you’d hunt me down. You were the only one who could. Every time I’ve ever been lost and confused, it was always you. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. I was angry with you, then. I think that was why it happened. I wanted to show you that you weren’t dealing with Clark. I thought you’d run away. I should have known better, that you…

“Lois?” Clark was framed in the doorway, snow falling behind him. When did it start snowing?

She stood, letting the notebook fall from her limp hands as she stood from the bed. Why hadn’t she told herself to stop? Hadn’t she known he’d be back soon?

“Clark,” she gasped. “I was only…” She picked up the notebook sheepishly. “It had my name on it.”

His brows drew together as he closed the door. “It was also in a wall. Guess that’s no big deal for you, though.”

“I was waiting to talk to you. I didn’t mean to…” She sighed and gave it up, tossing the book to the bed. “I snooped, okay?”

“It’s fine.” He moved stiffly past her to the bathroom.

She followed him. “No, it’s not. You’re angry.”

“Well, I’m not angry at you,” he said, his voice quiet, but echoing in the bare bathroom.

It reeked of bleach and disinfectant, probably his efforts more so than the motel staff. She leaned in the doorway, watched him carefully take off his facial hair. “So what happened back there?” she asked after a moment, not sure what else to say.

“What do you mean?”

“The sprinklers, Clark. I might have joined in with the yelling, but I still saw what you did. What I don’t understand is why.”

“Something was wrong. There was this… noise and light. I don’t know what it was.” He stared in the mirror, rubbing away the last traces of glue, not meeting her eyes. “I just knew I had to stop it.”

“Well, that might have been the right call. Thomas was… strange.”

“Thomas,” he said dully. “What was strange about him?”

“He just seemed angrier somehow, pensive. It wasn’t like him. And he didn’t seem to remember why.”

His movements grew stiffer as he put his things away. “Maybe your recorder can help with some of that. I’ll make sure Sawyer gets it back to you. They’re going over it now, over what we got, too. Maybe there’s something useful.”

“So it’s back on?”

“For now.”

“Well, I meant what I said. I’ll stay out of this. I know the police need an arrest more than I need a story.”

He nodded and finally turned to her. “I never helped Cat Grant. I only found out about her after she got fired and that was only a few days ago. I didn’t tell anyone because… It wasn’t mine to tell.”

She stared at a bit of glue stuck at the edge of his lips. “I can understand that.” She tore her eyes away and moved back into the room. “And Clark… I’m not trying to horn in, here, but I know there are certain things you can’t share with the police. If you need me…”

“I always…” He took a deep breath and followed her in. “I will. I promise. But this…” He gestured to the bed, to the notebook lying half-open. “Lois, just forget about that. I wish you hadn’t…”

“I didn’t read much,” she broke in quickly. “Just the beginning and some of another part. I actually read the other part first, but I didn’t understand about the creature with your face and then I figured if I wanted to understand it…” She broke off, wringing her hands. “Maybe I shouldn’t have read it.”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just… what use is it now? You’re with someone. You’re moving on. None of this really matters. I just wrote it so I could,” he shrugged, “figure it all out.”

“But you wrote it to me.”

“True,” he said softly. He moved to the bed and picked it up. “Listen, you can read it if you want. It’s probably horribly biased.” He glanced at her, smiling sadly. “But it’s all there. All the things no one else knew to tell you. But it’s probably better if you don’t.”

She wasn’t sure whether to agree. She had wanted to move on, but to have all that truth there – even if it turned out to be horribly biased – just waiting for her if she wanted it.

“It’s yours if you want it,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Read it, burn it, lock it away. Whatever you want.”

She stared at it, but didn’t take it. “And will that tell me everything?”

“More than anyone but you could. Because I was there through almost everything.” He shook his head. “I think you and I might have spent way too much time together over the years. Maybe that’s why…” He stopped. “But it’s fine, being where we are now. It’s better, even.” 

She stared at him, not sure what he was saying. 

“And I’ll figure things out. The Daily Planet never meant as much to me as it did to you.”

She finally had to ask. “Clark, what are you saying?”

“I don’t even know. I mean… I’m saying it’s okay if you don’t feel the way I do. I’m not blaming you. I want you to be happy.” He pressed the book into her hand. But he didn’t move away. “I can live anywhere, be anywhere in minutes. It’s not as if I have to be in Metropolis. After this investigation…” 

She put her hand over his, moved just a little closer. “Are you saying you want to leave?”

“I’m saying I want you to be happy,” he breathed, meeting her eyes. Yet his eyes seemed to change then, a flash of bright red. “And I’m kidding myself if I think I can stand by and watch it happen with anyone else.”

She wasn’t sure who moved, but the next second, the book was on the floor and his lips were moving over hers. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN