2012-06-19 Love Triangle?

Ding. The elevator doors open and Lois steps out, a 'hamster-running-full-tilt' look on her face. Her footsteps are equally quick as she weaves her way to her desk, drops her purse in the top drawer and keys in. She murmuring to herself, "what are you up to this time, Lexie, hmm? Nothing news worthy yet, my ass." She's opened the internet and is starting to browse cyberspace.
Clark Kent comes in a few moments later, one of the few times he doesn't arrive early to work. In truth, he's already finished his articles for today, so there is very little stress. He's whistling in an old style fashion, and reaches up to take off his hat. "Good Morning, Lois." He shrugs out of his sports coat and hangs it on a nearby rack before sitting down at his station. "Nice weather, huh?"
"Hmm? OH, yeah, sure, Kent," Lois says distractedly. While her head tilts slightly in his direction, her eyes never leave her computer screen. "Wayne doing anything," she asks herself keying another website. "No... looks quiet. Hmm...." She sits back pondering. What? Someone said something? Sorry. Can't hear you. Too busy busting rich boys.
Clark's smile turns to a bit of a grimace as he attempts to log onto his computer. It takes him about four times as he desperately tries to remember his password. Thankfully, the sounds is off this time. But there's the rthymic clacking of keys...pause...same clacking of keys...pause. Four times in a row. At least he's not talking to her anymore, seemingly having gotten the point. His head lowers behind the screen, trying to stay out of her way.
Lois sighs at the fourth time she hears the clicking of Clark's keyboard. "It's Martha-1966," she says leaning to the side to look at Clark. "How do you have such an awful memory," she asks him, violet eyes finely looking at her coworker.
Clark looks up past his computer screen with a sort of sad shrug, "I'm not sure, really. Must be getting old." He waits a pause before adding, "What are you working on? Anything interesting?"
"Oh no, Smallville. I'm not giving up anything," she retorts with a wink and a smirk. She points a finger at him, waggling it lightly. "I'm on to you, Kent. I know all your secrets," she states sagely.
"Oh really?" Clark asks looking enthused. "Go ahead and tell me, Lois. What is my deepest darkest secret?" Raised eyebrows and chin with pursed lips, he looks over at her expectantly.
Lois narrows her eyes at Clark's challenge. Fish in a barrel, the femme reporter can't help but take the bait. She sucks her tongue tip over her front teeth, one brow quirking. "Seriously, Clark?" She pauses a bit then rolls her eyes. "Come on, Smallville. Everyone knows," she says, starting to turn toward her computer.
"Oh yeah?" Clark says, goading her almost. "Tell me, I'm dying to know. I mean, you're always making fun of how vapid and unobservant I am. Help me out."
Lois sighs, shoulders sliding downwards. She looks over at Clark, as if sympathetic. "You're gay, Clark."
Clark laughs outloud, "That's what people think, huh?" He sits back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head, "I guess you got me. Secret is out of the bag. At least now I can live happily and out in the open."
"Oh, Clark," Lois says, getting out of her chair to move around to sit on his desk. "Of course we -know-," she says kicking up an leg to cross at the knees. "I mean, that night we had to cover the museum opening that things got a little too crazy and you chickened out on me...? Yeah, I wore my good heels and out of all the men there... YOU were the only one that didn't look at my butt." She grins like a cheshire cat and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder. "But it's okay, Smallville. I've seen Brokeback. I think it's sweet," she adds as she slides off his desk somewhat dilberately.
Clark smiles and shrugs his shoulders, "Well, I guess that would explain why I have so much trouble on dates." He sits back as if he's almost considering it all. His eyes theatrically ditch to the right and then to the left. "There's just one problem, Lois..."
Lois Lane stops, hands on her hips. "What's that, Cornhusker," she asks, taking the bait.
"I don't find guys attractive." Clark sighs forlornly, "I'm doomed."
Lois Lane eyes Clark, as if studying her fellow reporter. Then, as if making a decision on the spot, Lois turns on her heel and gets her purse. "You coming, Kent?"
Clark raises an eyebrow and gets to his seat. He leaves his hat behind, but grabs the coat, and though his question seems immaterial since he's following her anyways, "I'm not sure. Where are we going?" He shuffles behind clumsily.
“Shopping," Lois says firmly, putting her purse over her shoulder. She walks with that strong willed determination of hers. "Call it girl time, but you are going to stop moping if I have to grab yesterday's sports section, roll it up, and smack you on the nose with it." Because a mopey Clark is way more aggrivating than normal Clark.
"Shopping?" Clark says quizzically but follows behind nonetheless. "Is this because you think I'm gay?" As they make it to the elevator, Clark nearly runs into a fellow writer, and swerves just out of the way in the nick of time. Unfortunately, he bumps behinds with the lady talking to Reece in the corner. "Oh! I'm sorry!" "Dammit, Kent, watch where you're going."
Lois stops, turns, watches the mayhem, and sighs. A hand to her forehead, the reporter just shakes her head. "Nope. This is because I want to go shopping." She turns and presses the elevator button. "You're just the pack mule," she quips, mentally prepared for this to be a Bad Idea (TM).
Clark chuckles, "Better than the sugar daddy, I suppose." He straightens his tie and looks up at the big mirror in the corner. "I've never been referred to as a pack mule before."
"Don't flatter yourself, Smallville. No one would want to be your sugar baby. And, there's a first time for everything, Pack Mule" Lois comments as the elevator doors ding open. "And you're so bad on dates because you're a spineless clutz, Kent. Course, if you lost the glasses you -might- be a looker, but that would just make the clutz factor even worse." She looks up at Clark as she turns around and faces him. She's standing in the elevator, having pushed the ground flood button on her way in. As the doors start to close she just smirks. "Of course, paying attention to things is a good start too."
Clark shrugs his shoulders, "Well, my girlfriend in High School was pretty fond of me. She was even the prom queen. I imagine if I put my mind to it I can foold someone, even if it's just once." Clark jams his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels a bit, "What are we shopping for?"
Mildly surprised that Clark made it into the elevator before the doors closed in his face, like every other time it seems, Lois rolls a shoulder in a shrug. "Dunno yet," she comments. "But first thing's first. I need more Starbucks."
"Right...caffeine." Clark pushes his glasses up farther on his face and looks to her. "So, since you're such an expert, Lois, you must have a ton of success with dates. You've never shared."
Ack! Dagger... heart... twist! Lois presses her lips together, eyes rolling up to the floor indicator. She taps a toe inside her shoe impatiently as she presses on the tip of her tongue with her front teeth. Floor after floor rolls by until finally the doors ding open once more, Lois fuming silently the whole while. "For your information, my social life is just wonderful, thank you very much," she snips at Clark, jamming a finger into his chest as a startled intern eyes them.
"I'm sure it is, Lois. Obviously I have a lot to learn. If you could just share some of the secrets with me..." Clark stands still with the jabbed finger in his chest, but reaches his arm out to get the door. The intern is summarily ignored for the moment.
Hmph! Lois turns to push past said ignored intern. Dah! Clark... so... annoying! "Well first off, you can't clutz out every ten seconds," she begins, slowly slightly as she gets to the Daily Planet emblem on the floor of the main entryway.
"Lana thought it was endearing," Clark says as he follows after her. "And besides, I can't always going around pretending I am something I am not. I mean, do you have any idea how exhausting that would be? I am who I am."
"Yeah. Lana's prolly just as podunk as you are, Kent," Lois quips, reaching out to push the door open for herself before Clark can reach it. "Face it, acting isn't your strong suit, so of course it would be exhausting for you! You'd have to remember not to play with your glasses, or trip on your own feet, or be a hick..."
"Lana's a nice girl," Clark pleads. "You should ask your cousin, she knows her." He follows a few paces after her and then chuckles, "Is there anything about me that you actually /do/ like?"
Really? He's going to pull the cousin card? Lois frowns lightly, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Oh sure. Loads," she says, with seeming innocence.
Clark sighs, "I guess I'm the last bridge you haven't burned in the office. That's why you go to lunch with me, huh?" He chuckles a bit and turns down the street towards the closest Starbucks, "Or maybe it's because you know if you stick around you'll get some great tips on reporting, I bet."
"I have not burned my-" Lois starts, a hand going to her hip. She looks up to the sky, and actually asks of the heavens, "Why me? Was it because I set a few roads on fire when I was younger?" Ah! The scent of Starbucks. A latte by any other name, would not smell as sweet. "No, it's because you're a hapless bumbling oaf with an insane about of luck and delusions of grandeur. I mean really. Claiming to be Superman just to get under my skin?"
"Well, you had it coming. I mean, if you gave me an ounce of credit for any of the work I've done over the last four years, I wouldn't have to show you up from time to time." Even though the conversation is bitter and vicious, Clark still has the decency to open the door for her. "Ladies first, of course."
Which only serves to urk Lois further. She frowns and gets the other door. "Thank you," she retorts with a wicked and toothless grin. "And I'd give you credit if you actually -did- anything. I mean really! You just happen to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time to overhear exactly the right thing about exactly the right person....? I'm not buying it, Kent. Something's fishy about you, and I'm going to find out what. Aside for your gayness, that is," she adds as she gets to the counter. "Iced mocha latte, heavy on the mocha easy on the whip; and whatever Cornboy here wants," she bosses of the barista, thumbing over her shoulder at Clark.
"I'll take a cup of just plain old coffee," Clark says trying to decide between milk and the joe. But, just then, off in the distance, something pings Clark's unimaginable hearing. His head stays facing the barrista, but his eyes scan out towards the road, looking through a host of buildings. A car chase...coming this way.
"Oh Lois, I...can you grab mine? I just ....I have to go to the bathroom. It just sort of hit me." Making a pained look and holding his stomach, Clark shuffles off to the bathroom without getting an answer.
Oh yeah. Figures. Lois eyes Clark sourly even as her hand goes for the wallet inside her purse. Somehow, it's just not as much fun to force this good-ol'-boy to stand there and be paid for by a girl when he's not around. Plus that always running off thing is more than a little frustrating. "Sure, Kent. Go powder your nose," she says dismissively, turning to hand her debit card over. The thought of telling the barista to put something mildy unpleasant in his coffee crosses her mind.
It's then that the commotion hits! Sirens, everywhere! A sports car screams through the street and several passers by begin screaming. Hostage situation. Could get messy. There goes the runaway vehicle now. Then one...two...three...four squad cars!
With that Lois is alert. And Kent's in the john. He's not going to scoop her on this one! Shoving her card back into her purse, and without collecting her coffee, Lois runs out onto the street, shoving the door open with a shoulder. Her hand reaches for her trusty LiveScribe pen - God! What did she ever do without this pen? - and she turns it to record. Running after the cars, drawn by the danger, Lois is speaking into her pen as she runs, "Car chase, New Troy Hypersector. Sports car. Four cops chasing. POssible hostage." Mental note: thank trainer for forcing her to talk while on the stairmaster.
The cars peel away from her, but they're still in view when they all come to a screeching halt. A red and blue streak bolts downward out of the sky like a meteor. Everything happens so quickly. There's a twist and the axl is broken, then two red beams shoot in from the passenger side, past the hostage and towards the goon. There's a shriek and the would be gunman drops the gun onto the faux-leather seat; it melts down into the floorboard. A moment later a hand smashes through the driver's side glass and yanks the carjacker out through the window. And then, in an instant, it's all over with.
Huff, puff. Stupid heels. If they didn't make her butt look good she'd never wear them! Running up to the scene, Lois calls out, "Saved the day again, huh, Superman?" Her mind flutters lightly, recalling the last time he saved her day. Jumping out of a window doesn't sound that bad...
Superman looks towards her and smiles, "Well it's all in a days work. How are you Lois? It's nice to see you." This entire time, he's holding up the perp straight away from his body as he regards her. To his credit, the crook doesn't dare make a move.
And this is why she said the S stood for Super. I mean really? The type of guy it takes to lay carefully wreaked havoc on a speeding car, hold the perp out like a ragdoll, and then smile at her in such a way that her knees go weak.... Jinkies! Lois's cheeks redden faintly, hand coming up to tuck a lock of hair behind an ear as her heartrate stays quick after her run. Questions? What questions? "Yeah... I'll say." Lord! Stop the presses and go to reprints! Lois had a coherent thought. "I'm... nice. It's... work to see you too." Oh, nevermind.
Superman laughs a little bit, "It's work to see me? Oh goodness, I could take that two ways, either you mean you'll be able to write a story, or you hate these sorts of things. Either way, we need to stop meeting like this." Superman drops the perp down just as two police officers approach.
"Thanks for the assist Superman!" The shreaking lady in the passenger seat is now finally calmed down. Superman smiles over at her, "Are you okay, ma'am?"
Lois faceplams mentally, a wince coming through her normally tough exterior. About to recover and ask him on a date, Superman turns away from Lois, leaving the words in her throat for her mind to mull over, pick apart, and declare no variation of them suitable for the Super Man. She steps forward through, seeking to regain her composure... hopefully?
"Yes, Superman, I'm okay. Thank you! You saved my life!"
"It's kind of my job, ma'am." The police take comments from her, leaving the pair alone for a moment. "You feeling okay, Lois?"
"Wha? Oh! Yeah, sure. Of course," Lois bumbles her way slightly through that, feeling her knees whimpering to go all weak and school girl on her again. She stops within arm's reach, looking up at that magnificently handsom face. Clark who? Heart still racing a touch in her excitement, she smiles a bit googly eyed at the Man of Steel. "Just... you know..." she sorta motions around her at nothing in particular.
"No, I'm...I'm not quite sure I follow you, Lois." To say that there's a satisfaction coming from Superman would be a bit harsh. But there's at least a glimmer of it somewhere deep down. "Do you have time to go somewhere and talk? Or, are you headed somewhere?"
"Oh definitely," Lois is quick to respond, not even a second's thought given to her poor partner, still in the men's room taking care of an aching tummy. Clark who, now? She takes a half-step forward, closer to Superman, all eyes on him. "We can talk as long as you want," she almost purrs, but it's got this touch of girlish to the pitch that keeps the phrase from truely sounding seductive.
Superman nods, "Well let me see if I'm needed for anything." He steps away to speak with the police officer, but returns a moment later. "Somewhere quieter?"
He holds his hand out towards her, intent on flying her upwards it seems.
Lois is almost going to protest, her hand lifting to hand follow after Kal as he steps away. Her lips part, her brows pull up, and then he's returned to her, hand offered, and voice asking for somewhere more quiet. Lois Lane melts. She lays her hand in his, mind marvelling briefly just how strong and gentle his touch is, while she steps into him fully. "I'd love to," she says softly, heart dancing an overjoyed and thrilled little beat in her chest. Oh, how she'd love to rest her other hand and her cheek against that bright red S.
Superman pulls Lois towards him and lifts off into the air. "Hold on tight," he says in a friendly tone as they pick up speed heaidn back towards the Daily Planet. In a few moments they are there; well it feels like a few moments to him anyhow. He sets her down lightly near the base of the giant globe. "Thanks for agreeing, Lois. I needed to talk to someone."
He pulls her...? Lois is in heaven. She rests her palm against his chest, her cheek and ear to follow. That strong steady heartbeat in his chest is the most wonderful thing in the world. Lois lets out a sigh, uncaring how long they are in the air, for the end comes too soon and she felts the ground upon her feet. So gently set down, Lois is still on cloud nine, albeit a stilly firmer version there of. "Really," she asks, looking up at Superman without drawing away; someone is clearly unwilling to let that tiniest moment of closeness end without a fight. "Is everything ok," she says, violet eyes scanning his face, trying to read him as she reads everyone else in her life, Kent included.
Superman sighs, "Well, I don't...I don't have a lot of people I can talk to really." He begins, but he's not sure how he can continue, "A few days ago it was brought to my attention that I should be upfront with people. That I should be transparent. But there's things about me, things like where I come from, that I'm not sure how will be received. I mean, I love Metropolis and this country, but I'm not sure they'd love me back if they knew everything and I feel like I have a right to my own privacy...I mean, like everyone else, I feel like I have that right. Or should, anyways." He leaves out the part about the person who brought this up being Kara and how she's his alien cousin from a far away doomed planet and how he's an alien too and his planet went all splodey. He leaves out all that stuff.
Hand still on his chest, and hand in his, Lois does step away, but only to pull him to one of the scaffolding ledges to sit down on. Eyes never leaving his face, she listens intently. Forgetting that her pen is still recording, she drops it in her purse so she can put her hand more fully on his, kinda making a hand-sandwich. "Metropolis loves you right back, Superman, no matter what you do or who you are. You know, that right? I mean... How many times have you saved me- eh Metropolis from giant robots, crashing airplanes, and all sorts of horrible nonesense?" She pauses, hoping he didn't notice her slip, and so fearlessness forges on, "Tell you what? Tell me. Tell everything, off the record. No gimmicks, no recorders, no reporter. Just you and me, talking. And... if it seems right I'll write up a draft, on my home computer, and I'll print it for you and you can read it and if you like it then... well, I'll give it to Perry. If you don't, or if after this you don't feel like it's something you really want to share I'll... well, I'm ont going to say I'll forget it, whatever it is, because that would be lying but... I promise I won't write it down anywhere. Deal?"
Superman exhales and shakes his head slowly, looking a bit pained. "I'm not ready, Lois. I haven't talked to anyone about it. And I'm not ready to. Once I do, you'll be the first to know, I promise." As he sits next to her, his kicks his feet out over the edge almost like a little kid. "City is quiet from up here." Relatively speaking, of course.
That's hard to take, but Lois nods. The one thing she's coming to learn about the Man of Steel is that when he makes a promise, come hell, high water, or War World, he's going to keep it. She tucks her feet in under herself, crossed at the ankles, holding onto his hand still. She eyes his shoulder, wondering if she culd rest her head on it without him thinking it was weird. "Yeah," she agrees, looking out across the skyline. "Can't hear a single car horn," she adds. Because that's what's loud for her.
Superman chuckles, "I can still hear them, it's just easier to block out from up here." And then there's that tell tale look he always gets in his eye. "I should probably get going. I mean, I'm sure you've got a lot of work to do today."
A look Lois is all too familiar with. She sighs softly. "And there's prolly some meteor on a collision course for a orphange full of austic children that you need to save," she seems to lament. She smiles up at Kal, the expression bitter sweet. She starts to withdraw her hands from his.
"Thanks for your help, Lois," Superman says as he neither confirms or denies this meteor hypothesis.
He smiles at her, stands, and gives a wave. Then he begins to float upwards slowly. Another wave just before a 'booooom!' and he's gone. A few moments later, the door creaks open, "Lois? Lois, there you are. I know I was in the water closet for a long time, but did you really need to leave me there? You forgot your coffee. It's still warm." Clark holds the coffee out towards Lois.
Lois sighs as Superman waves at her. The boom makes her flinch, eyes closing and hand coming to shield her face reflexively. When she looks again he's gone. She sighs again, wistful and forlong, when the door creaks and that moment-shattering Clark voice grates against her sense. She pulls that tough-girl act over herself as surely as any superhero masking a secret identity would before she looks over at Clark and slips off the beam. "For your information, I witnessed Superman stop a high speed car chase," she states reaching into her purse to pull out her pen, "which I got recorded right-" That's when she spies the pen still on 'Record'. Her eyes widen, cheeks reddening as she quickly turns it off and clutches it in both hands quickly. Crap!
Clark tilts his head as if he doesn't believe. "Superman? You? Here?" He deflates a bit. "I missed him?" A deep sigh later, "Wait...what were you doing up here? You and him?" He tilts his head and raises his 'you gotta be kidding me' eyebrow.
"That's what you get for being slow on the scoop, Smallville," Lois gloats, using her hand to toss her hair away from the front of her shoulder. With sure steps, she approaches the Man of Corn and snags the coffee cup from his hand. She just smiles, eyes twinkling, enjoying the look on his face.
"Golly, Lois. I mean, are you sure he's your type?" Clark asks. "I mean, you're always making fun of me for trying to do the right thing and being too squeaky clean. Isn't he like the most squeaky clean guy on the planet?"
"What? You jealous, Kent? I thought you admitted to being gay," Lois quips, the mischef back in her voice to mask the tiny spike of anger at Clark for questioning the fact that Superman is, in fact, the single most perfect specimen of a man EVER.
"What if I was jealous?" Clark quips for once. "Hell hath no fury like anyone trying to get between Lois Lane and her Superman, it seems." Clark leans back against the brick wall and folds his arms.
"Jumping to conclusions isn't a good thing in a reporter, Kent," Lois retorts smugly as she brings her coffee to her lips. "He was kind enough to drop me off at work so I could get a jump start on this story," she asks as if it were nothing at all.
"Oh really," Clark says with a chuckle. "He just does that sort of thing for you. /Superman/." He makes a wave thing with his hand, "Just flies you wherever you want to go. Like a courier service."
"You are jealous," Lois accuses, a bit of wonder to her voice. "It really burns your fat to know I can get exclusives with him and you can't even seem to manage to get in the same room," she adds, starting to grow furious at the courier service remark. Superman's arm are by no means a courier service. They're like heaven. "Well, too bad, Kent. My story, my source. Go jump off a roof. Maybe he'll catch you and you can get an interview too."
Clark sighs and shakes his head, "He won't even stop to talk to me. I guess I am jealous. Why does he always come to you, anyways?" Clark continues to probe, looking serious, but secretly gathering information. It's like sending your friend in to talk. But it's actually you and you wear thick glasses and stuff.
"Maybe he's straight," Lois offers off handedly, coffee going ignored in her hand, and not sounding at all serious. It's got her thinking. Why DOES he always come to her, scoop her out of thin air, haul her out of exploding buildings, and smile at her in that sunshine bright smile that makes her knees go all wiggly and her heart race like a 12 year old with a crush on Justin Bieber who just got told she won VIP All Access Back Stage passes to his Never Say Never concert? Lois's pause to consider all of that happens with a few flickers in her expression and a sympathetic memory-induced flutter of her heartbeat.
"Maybe he's not," Clark counters and smirks at her. "Maybe he's going to ask you about what boys he should ask out. Or maybe he wants to double date. It could be anything, really."
"Don't be crass, Kent. He's not gay," Lois counters, even as her insides twist slightly as that seed of doubt gets planted by the farmer. She frowns at the smirk. "He knows I'm a good media connection for him and he's a good source for me," she adds, trying to make that professional distinction. Yes, that's it. Professionalism, Lois has it.
"Yeah, Superman cares so much about image and marketing. He's a regular Stark, that one." Clark can't help but laugh.
"You know what I meant," Lois says through gritted teeth.
"The more time I spend around you, Lois, the less I think I understand you. And that's okay. It's probably for the best." Clark chuckles and reaches for the door that leads to the elevator. "Bout time for us to get back to work, don't you think?"
"Time for you to get to work, you mean," Lois snips, for ONCE allowing Clark to get the door without arguement. "I've got my story. I just have to type it out, and with the way I type, it's not going to take me long at all. What are you going to write? An expose on the men's room at Starbucks?"
"No, I'm going to write about Superman's odd choice in companionship," Clark says making his way inside. "Or maybe I'll probably write about the mutant unsettlement in Mongolia. It'll be one of those two."
"You so much as draft that first one, and I'll shove my Pulitzer up your-" and the door to the roof top closes on the two person love triangle that is Lois Lane and Clark Kent, I mean Superman.
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