Almost Lovers (Chapter 17)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Picking up from where we left off. 

Thanks again to Silversnikle for her beta services!

Chapter 17

“WHAT?”

Clark winced. Why couldn’t he have found some better way to put it?

“Marriage? What does that even… What… That’s…”

Clark put his hands up. “Not marriage marriage, just… I mean it’s this whole destiny, betrothal, mate kind of…”

“Mate? Betrothal?”

“God, that sounds even worse,” he muttered. “I’m not explaining this right. I just mean… Listen, I was given this bracelet by a Kawatche elder…”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. You told me that part.” Her eyes were really wide.

“And he…” Clark took a deep breath, then did it again, hoping she’d follow suit. She kind of did, so he went on. “It was this heirloom passed down from ancient times and, you know the Kawatche had some dealings with Kryptonians back then. It’s all very mystical with prophecies about Naman, who people kind of assume is me, and his soulmate and that bracelet’s supposed to be for her. See, this is all just…”

“The drawing,” she said, kind of breathlessly. “I saw the drawing in the cave, but I figured it just meant it was kind of rare or something…”

“Listen, I didn’t even put any thought into this. When Joseph gave it to me, he said it was for the true one in my life, but I just thought it was sentimentality. I mean, it was from someone who died and I didn’t want to just go giving it to just anyone and I saw that drawing when we were in the caves and… Well, you know. I thought of you, of you being the true one, but I never thought it was anything more than a thought. And then Jor-El said some stuff and I barely realized what it meant until I saw you wearing it and it wouldn’t come off and then I asked Jor-El…”

“So your computer daddy... He’s in on this, too?”

“No. It’s not like that. See, bracelets are like… wedding rings for Kryptonians and…”

Her eyes got even wider. “What?!”

“No. I’m just explaining that Jor-El said… He thinks this bracelet was forged for me and it was meant to seal my destiny… I mean, it was just a theory and there’s a blue stone underneath it that’s…”

“So you knew about that?”

“Just listen. Lois, this doesn’t have to mean anything. I mean, the whole prophecy thing and this idea that I could be this Naman and destiny… add in the bracelet and I was a little freaked out. It felt like, not only my life, but even my love life, was foretold centuries before I was born. It was kind of…”

“Uh-huh. Yeah,” she said, getting up and pacing. “I could see how that would be a little much.”

“But…”

She laughed kind of manically. “I was just thinking it was this cool artifact with special powers and you were just… maybe holding out on what it does, but… I mean, this is… You know… The…”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“I mean, I knew you were a long-term commitment kind of guy, but this... destiny...” She started fanning herself rather rapidly. “Is it hot in here?”

“Lois, I’m trying to tell you…”

She paced harder, breathing heavily. “Is this the thing in the book? I mean, the thing… that’s supposed to freak me out cause I’m kinda freaked out right now,” she choked out. 

“No.” He sped to her, taking her by the shoulders. “Lois, please calm down. This doesn’t change anything.”

She nodded, up and down, quite a few times. “Okay. Doesn’t change anything. So… why do I feel like it does?”

“It just… it only sounds that way, but let me finish.”

“Okay,” she choked out.

“Breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“No. You’re hyperventilating.”

“Well, if it wasn’t so damned hot in here!”

He moved her to the window, throwing it open and sitting her on the ledge. “Better?”

“Less hot,” she breathed, leaning hard on her knees. “Still freaked out.” He waited for her to take several deep breaths before he went on.

He rubbed her back. “When I said this didn’t change anything, I meant it. I mean, yes, this bracelet did kind of… stick to you, but that was just… I mean, it’s only… the… the point is, I made it stop.”

She looked up. “What do you mean, you made it stop? Why didn’t you make it stop from the start?” she asked in a rush.

“I didn’t understand it until that night, when Jor-El told me why and that you chose me and what it meant.”

“I chose you?” She shook her head. “You just said it didn’t mean anything.”

“I said it doesn’t have to mean anything. I didn’t want you to be bound to me unless you chose to be with open eyes.”

“Wait a minute…” She took several deep breaths, then went on more calmly. “So you’re saying that everything I feel for you is just… some kind of ancient Kawatche-Kryptonian hoodoo because I put on a bracelet?”

“No! God, no! Lois, I don’t even understand all this. Jor-El hardly does. Kryptonians have science whereas the Kawatche are more… mystical. But…” He took a deep breath. “I know one thing. It’s not the bracelet that made the feelings. The bracelet just… sensed them, found them out somewhere between us. This was all there long before the bracelet.”

“But the bracelet was there long before you and me.”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t have a choice. I could have chosen not to put on the suit, to stay in Smallville and farm. This whole Superman thing didn’t have to happen. But the Kawatche somehow knew it would. It doesn’t mean I didn’t have other choices.”

She blinked several times. “But they wouldn’t have been the right choices. What if, by not doing this whole soulmate… thing person, I’m messing up destiny and… and… Cities fall, volcanoes erupt, thousands die… and all because I’m so afraid of this… this…”

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said firmly. “You wanted to know and I told you, but this changes nothing. Maybe, on some level, you did feel this connection to me, did want to be tied to me like I wanted you. Like I still do. But it seemed so barbaric, for you to have this manacle around your wrist when you didn’t know what it meant. I wanted it gone. And it is. It’s gone. Nothing is binding us.”

“It just slipped off that night,” she said dully, “like it was paper.”

He nodded. “I told Jor-El I released you and… here we are.” He shrugged, trying to smile. “We’re free to make our own choices. We’re free to see where this goes.”

“So… I mean, if this goes nowhere,” she said, bowing her head now, “then there could be some other woman out there with a sticky wrist and… she’s the…”

“Don’t,” he cut in, not wanting to hear it, hating the idea of it. 

“I’m just saying…”

“Please just don’t. I just… Lois, there’s no one else I even think of. There’s only you. And, if you ever feel the same way, then… Then that’s when you’d put it on. And only then.”

She leaned heavily on her knees and stood, then shivered. 

“God, you must be freezing now.” He rushed to the sofa and brought back an afghan, started to put it over her shoulders. “I should have realized you… Mmmph!”

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

“I know one thing. It’s not the bracelet that made the feelings,” he was saying. “The bracelet just… sensed them, found them out somewhere between us. This was all there long before the bracelet.”

This was a little much for a second date. She took several deep breaths, wondering how long before her head stopped spinning. “But the bracelet was there long before you and me,” she heard herself saying. What does this mean? What the hell does all this mean? Clark said it didn’t have to mean anything, but Clark also said he barely understood the bracelet. 

Mate. It made her feel like some kind of property or specimen. She had a sudden, horrifying visual of she and Clark, forced into a glass cage, white coats all around them, waiting for them to reproduce. And that brought another awful thought. Was reproduction even possible? There was an entire failed experiment built around making mini Clark’s, granted that was more like electrically aided osmosis. But those women… most of them barely survived carrying…

“That doesn’t mean we don’t have a choice,” she heard.

She shook it off. This bracelet might be bringing marriage to the table, but she’d be damned if she let her own paranoia toss dangerous pregnancies into the mix.

“I could have chosen not to put on this suit,” he was saying, “to stay in Smallville and farm and live a normal life. This whole Superman thing didn’t have to happen. But the Kawatche somehow knew it would. It doesn’t mean I didn’t have other choices.”

She stared at him, blinking until he was more than just a wavy blur, another rather scary thought coming to her. If the Kawatche saw this Naman, saw his mate, then… “But they wouldn’t have been the right choices. And what if, by not doing this whole soulmate… bracelet thing, I’m messing up destiny and… and… Cities fall, volcanoes erupt, thousands die… and all because I’m so afraid of this… this…”

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said, sounding so confident in it, she almost believed him. “You wanted to know and I told you, but this changes nothing. Maybe, on some level, you did feel this connection to me, did want to be tied to me like I wanted you. Like I still do. But it seemed so barbaric, for you to have this manacle around your wrist when you didn’t know what it meant. I wanted it gone. And it is. It’s gone. Nothing is binding us.”

She hadn’t wanted it gone, not at the time. “It just slipped off that night,” she said dully, “like it was paper.” And she’d been chasing it since. And what did that mean?

He nodded. “I told Jor-El I released you and… here we are.” He shrugged, even smiled a little. She wasn’t quite up to joining in. “We’re free to make our own choices. We’re free to see where this goes.”

She looked down. “So… I mean, if this goes nowhere, then there could be some other woman out there with a sticky wrist and… she’s the…” God, was she going to cry? She honestly felt like she might – that or hit something. 

“Don’t,” he said, rather roughly. 

“I’m just saying…”

“Please just don’t.”

She was rather glad he cut her off, feeling an almost unbearable hatred of this nebulous future female. How dare she…

“I just… Lois, there’s no one else I even think of. There’s only you.”

She had the same problem with him. But why was it a problem? They weren’t shackled by some bauble. They were here now. And they felt…

“And, if you ever feel the same way, then… Then that’s when you’d put it on. And only then.”

Would she? Would there be a “then?” She’d never thought that far ahead and almost resented him for making her do so now. But only almost. It seemed like everything Clark did or said – the dates, the talks, the way he could never say no to her – was all to put her at ease, put her in control. And it was really hard to be mad at a guy like that.

Still, she needed some time, some perspective, maybe a night, even a month, without a date. She braced herself and stood, the cold air finally hitting her.
“God, you must be freezing now.” Then there he was, holding a blanket. Who the hell could keep her hands off a guy like that? “I should have realized you… Mmmph!”

Certainly not her. Before she was even aware of deciding to do it, she was kissing him. 

It only took a second for him to join in… enthusiastically. And it was even scarier and more wonderful than before, with all that had passed between them tonight. She knew, even as she wound her arms around his neck, as he gripped her waist, that this answered nothing, solved zilch, and was probably the last thing they should be doing at the moment.

It was just hard to avoid that pull between them. Hell, if an inanimate bracelet could give in to it, then why shouldn’t she? Why step away and think when there was this? 

All clinging lips and harsh breaths and nipping teeth, here and there, and just the hint of tongue, just a hint of what could be if they just let it. Why was it always so good?

“We can’t…”

And why did he always have to stop things? “Clark…” She breathed his name, trying to catch his lips again.

“Lois…” He let her catch him, coaxing her tongue into his mouth… before drawing away!

“God! Why are you such a tease?” she groaned, keeping her arms locked tight around his neck.

“You just… You…” She took some satisfaction from his rather harsh panting. “You've had a lot to think about tonight and…”

“Exactly,” she cut in, nudging him toward her couch. “I’d really love to stop thinking right about now.” She slid her hands down his chest, nails scraping lightly.

His face softened into a goofy kind of smile. “Well, so would…” And then it went away, brows snapping together. “But I’m just thinking maybe we need time to…” He fell back to the couch and she joined him, landing in his lap.

“Clark, this is our second date. I mean…” She leaned in.

And he leaned away. “Exactly! This is only our second date.”

He had to add that part. She stood now. “I give up. You’re just determined not to touch me.”

He stood as well. “I’m determined not to touch you tonight. Not… never. Just…” He took a deep breath and took her by the shoulders. “Just close your eyes.”

“Why? So you can speed right off? Just do it if you…”

“I promise I’ll stay right here. Just… please close your eyes for me.”

She huffed, but she did it. Then she opened them. “I’m so sick of you all deciding what I can and can’t handle. This is…”

“This is not about that,” he groaned. “Will you close your eyes and listen?”

“Sure. Fine. Whatever.” She closed her eyes tight.

“Okay,” she heard. “You’re on your second date with this guy and you really like him. I mean, this guy is pretty much… he’s like everything you ever wanted in a guy.”

She almost opened her eyes, then, just for the pleasure of rolling them. “Someone thinks very well of himself, doesn’t…”

“I’m not talking about me,” she heard him growl. “Just listen… You feel all these things and you see this future and you think… How do you know he feels what you do, sees what you do? So your first date, you just relax, just relate, just kiss.”

“Clark…” She started to open her eyes. 

“Let me finish. So, on the second date, you let him in just a little, let him know where you’ve been, maybe even let him know where you want to go. And try so hard not to push, but… You’re there and what if he isn’t? And he wants to have sex right that second and… What if it hurts? Not the sex, obviously, but… later and… I mean, you could probably take a lot of hits, but not this one and…”

“Oh, my God. Am I the guy?” she breathed, opening her eyes. “Clark, I’m not… pressuring you into sex.” 

“I didn’t say you were…”

“I mean, I was operating on the idea you wanted to, but if you…”

“I want to,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I really, pretty much desperately want to.” He laughed then, kind of shakily, backing away. “Just want to make that clear. Just… not tonight, Lois. Not after that.” He gestured vaguely to the window. “If we could have just one more date, then…”

“Okay,” she cut in, wanting to argue because… damn it, she just wanted to argue. “If you’re thinking of the universally accepted third date rule, then you should know that it’s mostly about people getting to know each other and we actually know more than just about any possible couple ever, so…”

“Yes, but we’re only just getting to know each other in this way and…”

“Clark, I’d never hurt you,” she said, reflecting on what he said earlier, meaning every word.

He laughed again, even shakier now. “That’s what they all say, but, you know…”

She drew back, almost touched that she had the power to hurt him. She suspected it before, but to have him give voice to it made it seem so real. 

But it was still ridiculous. She’d never hurt him. She said it and she meant it. It was just about the only thing she knew for sure in all this mess. And they’d already slept together, for crying out loud…

But she didn’t want to be “that guy.” If he needed more date… 

“Fine.” She shrugged. “I can wait till tomorrow… for the universally accepted third date,” she added slyly.

“Tomorrow?” He backed away.

She took a step. “Yes. Tomorrow. Are we suddenly skipping days?”

“Well. It’s just that tomorrow’s Friday and…”

“And I have the next day off,” she said cheerily, taking another step to counter his step away. “Works out perfectly.”

“See, but tomorrow might be tough for me. I might be late and…”

“I’ll wait up.”

He hit the door. “What if I’m really, really late?”

“I thought we agreed that, barring some catastrophe, you’d show up.” She slid her fingers up his chest and planted a kiss on his lips.

By the time she pulled away, his voice was rough. “Barring some catastrophe, I… will,” he finished hoarsely.

“So I’ll understand if there’s a catastrophe. Won’t I?” She twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open, pulled his body right into hers. 

“I guess you will,” he breathed.

“It’s a shame you have to go,” she moaned, “but I understand.”

“Uh-huh.” He dipped his head down, but she moved away, watching him force himself blindly into the hallway.

She might understand, but that didn’t mean she had to make it easy. “So maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, looking around as if her hall was alien territory.

“For the third date,” she clarified, leaning in the doorway.

“Third date,” he breathed.

“And you know what that means…”

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

SEX.

Please let it really, officially mean sex.

Even thinking the words, he wanted to pull them back. Wasn’t he the only thing in the way of SEX right now? And shouldn’t he stay there? Sure, she wanted him, craved him, was luring him into bed in his dreams barely dressed and just waiting for…

But could she love him? That was like a bucket of cold water over even his most lurid fantasies. Hell, he knew how he felt by now. And even the fact that he’d had barely any sex in his life shouldn’t sway him now.

But was it really like that?

Yes. Yes, it was. He may have had a handful of sex with her a little over a month ago, but that was after nearly a year of keeping his distance, which was months after the last and…

Damn it, his life had been almost sexless, but for her, and even she was barely touched… at least compared to how much he wanted to touch her.

Even if she agreed to put it off till the fourth, fifth, sixth… he couldn’t. He couldn’t put her off a second more. “I can’t wait,” he nearly growled as Moxie’s doors opened for one more grand reopening. “This is the end.”

“It certainly is,” he heard Cat hiss in his ear, preening in her sad bikini of a tux beside him. “I’m going to get an exclusive tonight, with or without your help.”

“Ca… andy,” he corrected last minute, looking down the line at all of them, lined up like the lord of the manor was visiting. No one was paying attention to them.

“You might as well forget that name,” she whispered with a smile. “I’m not going to need it after tonight.” She stepped forward, thrusting out her chest and one hip as Vincent Edge was led in before anyone else. “Mr. Edge, I’m Kandy and I’ll be seeing to,” she smiled widely, “just anything you need tonight.”

The older man appraised her coolly before he smiled as well. “Please, call me Vinnie.”

She giggled. “I knew I liked you, Vinnie.” She took his arm and led him to a corner table. “You know, it must be so hard, running a media empire like…”

Clark frowned after them, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Cat was, after all, doing just what Turpin wanted. He just couldn’t help worrying that she was in over her head.

As for Turpin, he looked satisfied standing in the entryway, checking his guest list. Meanwhile, Clark felt like there was a hot lump in his gut. Neither of them knew just how badly this night could end. These guests filing in weren’t just a bunch of thugs and middle-managers. They were a welcome mat for something far more dangerous than they, than even he, could fully comprehend.

He glanced at Rocco, trying to catch his eye, trying to make sure it was truly Rocco. 

He sneered, “What are you lookin at?” 

So not yet. But soon. They’d planned every step and Jones wouldn’t be wearing Rocco’s face, along with the rest of him, until step two. And they weren’t there yet. But Jones was there. He was somewhere. Maybe he was invisible, maybe he was wearing one of the faces of the people stepping in. Clark didn’t know for sure. Jones told him not to worry about that. Jones told him to just tend bar, keep this night running smoothly. The police told him nearly the same thing.

He couldn’t help feeling the both of them were wrong. But he hadn’t told either that. He just kept patting his pocket. He had a few tricks up his sleeve – or, more rightly, in his pocket – just in case. 

Regardless, they weren’t necessary in step one, even two. 

And, less than an hour later, step two might be in motion. Not on his part, unless you counted tending bar. In his case, step two was the same as one – make drinks, make this night go smoothly.

Yet he couldn’t help keeping an eye on Cat, leaning over Vincent Edge, laughing at his jokes, letting his hand roam where it would. She was in over her head and he couldn’t help worrying about it. Maybe he could get her out of here before the portal geared up. It had to gear up. That part was unavoidable, but her being there wasn’t. She had a kid, she had a dream, she’d almost quit smoking for real this time. He had to…

And that’s when step two started for real. Over the crowd ordering vodka-sodas and whiskey-sours, he could see Rocco moving to the office, but with a pace too brisk to be truly his. He could see Stitches through the walls.

Stitches had been relegated to the office as his appearance was horribly off-putting. He poured out a cabernet, keeping one eye on the office. Saw “Rocco” speak to Stitches, saw Stitches nod dumbly and move out the door and into the alleyway.

He knew where Stitches was going. He was going to knock on the door of a van just one block away. Jones’ little concession to the police and gift, asa well as distraction, for Maggie Sawyer. 

Then there was only Rocco in the office… Rocco who soon grew two feet and a patchwork face.

He watched Jones punch in the code, enter the room, go where Clark could no longer see him.

Clark turned away tried to satisfy the crowd around the bar. This job certainly wasn’t easy, not in any way. He made a mental note to tip at least twenty-five percent to waitstaff from this day on and buried himself in the work.

But he felt the reassuring weight of the phone in his pocket. And, whatever Jones said, he’d be using it.

He trusted Jones.

He just didn’t trust the situation.

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

She just didn’t trust the facts. 

The facts were there and seemed to point to a clear answer. But Lois just wasn’t sure that answer was the right one. Not yet.

She’d spent today at The Planet, typing up what she could reasonably know about Lex Luthor, mostly for Perry’s benefit. It was a descent into seclusion and madness and she’d left Perry trying to devise the best possible headline. He’d been torn between. “A Luthor loses all?” and “Luthor Loses It.”

She hardly cared which. Lex wasn’t the story she was after. She’d learned by now to stay far away from Lex. She was all about Lana.

And Lana was hard to figure out. She’d been standing in front of a white board for the better part of an hour and still hadn’t come up with a satisfying and all-encompassing answer to her.

She kind of wished Clark didn’t have other commitments tonight. Oh, she knew what they were. Moxie’s had a grand re-opening, after all, and she’d be an idiot if she didn’t suspect that was one of the reasons he thought he might be “really, really late” tonight.

She’d resolved to stay out of it, but that wasn’t what was bugging her right now. She could really use his thoughts about now. He knew Lana better than just about anyone she knew. He had all the inside info.

Hell, Clark had the inside info on everything, his memory being about as super as his strength.

She stared at the board, stomping one slippered foot and wishing just a little more info would fall in her lap. Lana wasn’t even on shift at Belle Reve tonight, so any pie-in-the-sky thoughts she had of kidnapping and interrogating her…

She paced and chewed on her last unchewed nail, wondering if that was the way to go. Not just her, but all of them. Victor, Bart, Oliver, Diana, AC… they could be quite intimidating in full gear. Maybe a Lana surrounded by that spectrum might be a more honest…

She stilled, staring at the notebook, lying face-down on her dining table, just where she’d left it. She’d actually thought of burning it, taking the temptation away. She didn’t want to know, after all. That thing held all kinds of info she didn’t need to…

She touched it, feeling almost burned by the contact. It held things, things she didn’t know. Things about Lana? Maybe. Clark had said he kept it about them, left out the “less us stuff.”

But there could be something in there. Something that would give her some insight. So why not tap that resource? Was she insane, pushing away a possible source? Maybe it seemed a bit daunting, containing so much about her personally, but she’d tackled harder subjects. Hadn’t she?

Regardless, she picked it up, turned the page.

It’s a source. Just a source.

“Damn you, Clark.”

She’d read it tonight. Every word. But damn him, anyway. She didn’t want to.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

You might have noticed a familiar line in there. Totally stole it from another show. The first to post which line and which show, will get an amazing mood gif (you pick the mood you want) from my growing collection.