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[FIC] DC Comics: Willing Blindfold
So. I said something about Lois taking over my fingers, right?
YEAH THIS FIC JUST PROVES IT, OKAY. JUST. PROVES. IT.
/stares at her It would go back to being Clark/Bruce soon. Very soon. /beats Lois back.
(This will most likely end up in a threesome. Or something. I don't think I'm supposed to like the 'third woman' as much as I adore Lois.)
Willing Blindfold
- Sequel to Closed Eyes
- Second of the Closed Eyes series
Characters/Pairings: Clark/Lois, Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG, mostly for swearing
Words: 2625
Summary: Lois gets her say, and Clark gets a surprise And Bruce? Bruce is probably very glad that he doesn’t have to witness any of this. Otherwise known as: the aftermath of sex pollen-induced sex with a married man.
It didn’t take long for Lois to realise that there was something wrong with Clark. It was easy enough to see – he had never been good at hiding his moods from the world, much less from her. In fact, he had never been particularly good at hiding anything at all.
(Just don’t mention the fact that Clark had managed to hide the fact that he was Superman from her for so long, thank you very much.
It makes her cranky, and no one liked dealing with a cranky Lois.)
But directly asking him about it would be an entirely useless endeavour – if it was something he wanted to share with her, he would have done so already. So it was something he wasn’t quite willing to spill yet—but that was entirely fine. She would just have to do a little investigation on her own. After all, she might not be the World’s Greatest Detective, but she was a pretty ace investigative reporter herself, if she was to say so herself.
So.
It was obviously nothing to do with the situation at home. If it was, Clark would’ve told her immediately instead of brooding on it. She had told him many times that if he had a serious problem with whatever she was doing, he should just tell her straight out. Because she had always done the same to him.
Was it something at work, then? It couldn’t be—the Planet was doing just fine, and was even safer lastly because there hadn’t been people bombing it or even threatening to bomb it. And Clark had even been pretty punctual about handing in his pieces, though his attendance was as sporadic as ever.
(Perry didn’t bother on check up on him lately, especially after the first time Lois chewed his head off when he implied that as Clark’s wife, she should know where he was all the time. She wasn’t his bloody babysitter.)
If normal work and home was out, then it had to be at his other job. More specifically, it had to be about the people at said other job, because if there had been disasters or Luthor-plots that bothered Clark, Lois would usually be at the frontlines, getting to know about it and reporting it. But since there wasn’t...
Okay, were there any reports of the Justice League breaking up again? Nope, and not even a peep about them even having interpersonal problems. Not that it said much, really, but Lois combed through the latest videos of them fighting together, and they worked together perfectly well. There was the usual amount of banter, mixed with orders being barked by the Batman... nothing unusual. Well—there was the usual quarrel between Green Arrow and Black Canary, but that was old news.
Lois allowed herself fifteen minutes of being distracted of her husband being exceedingly sexy while fighting crime in tights. Then, it was back to work. She was running out of options, so either she was close to grasping the truth... or she had been chasing clouds.
If it wasn’t the Justice League in itself, then it had to be its members. There were very few people whose actions and even presence could bother Clark so intensely and so personally. There was Lois herself, and... Well, Diana was always a lot more sensible than most.
It had to be Bruce. And if it was Bruce...
Let’s just say that she wasn't entirely surprised when she came home from work one day to find Clark setting the table for her favourite beef bourguignon. She only dropped her handbag on the couch and walked towards the dining table, taking her seat.
“So what’s the occasion?” she asked, one eyebrow hiked up.
Clark swallowed, and he looked like he had managed to set her wardrobe on fire with heat vision. Along with her Pulitzer. And had some more to spare for the pants he was wearing at that very moment, for good measure.
He took a deep breath. Sat down. “Can’t I just spoil my wife once in a while?”
“Uh huh,” Lois said, and looked at him. She waited, speared a piece of meat with her fork and chewed. “So, what happened between you and Bruce?”
She would never get over the fact that it was so easy to make Superman gape at her like a drowned fish.
“Um,” he said, and fortunately he knew her well enough to not try to deny it. Invulnerability or not, she would try to set him on fire if he tried. He took another deep breath. Opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Blurted it out. (Finally.)
“I slept with Bruce.”
Lois ate another piece of beef. Chewed it slowly and watched Clark squirm, amused beyond measure. Really, what did he think that she would say?
“Did you take pictures?”
Clark stared at her, mouth agape again and it was a good thing that he hadn’t eaten anything yet, or else he would have choked. Lois laughed silently, dropping an elbow on the table and her head in her hands as she looked at him.
“Well?”
“Lois—what are you—what—”
“Oh come on, Clark,” she said, grinning now. “Don’t tell me that you managed to get the famous Batman somewhere that he didn’t have any surveillance equipment? Or that you forgot to take pictures for me? Not everyone has your photographic memory, you know—sometimes we even need photographs.”
”You’re not...” Clark swallowed, eyes wide and the blue in them so startlingly beautiful that Lois almost regretted teasing him like this. Almost. “You’re not angry?”
“No.”
“But I cheated on you! And you told me that if I ever did—”
“I’ll toss you out of here on your ear,” Lois finished for him. “Yes, Smallville, I remember what I said.”
“So, why—”
“I also remember saying,” Lois said, steamrolling over him and his half-formed, confused protests, “that if ‘you ever sleep with Lana, Lori, Lyla, or any of those other women with L names that you seem to be irresistibly drawn to, I will kick you out and you can find divorce papers on your desk the next morning’.” She folded her hands, and popped another piece of beef into her mouth. “As far as I know, Bruce’s name doesn’t start with L, and he’s not a woman.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Or are there further secrets beneath Batman’s armour?”
Clark sputtered, “What? What, no! He’s...” He took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Lois, I don’t understand.”
“Then I’ll break it down simpler to you, Smallville: I. Don’t. Mind.” She punctuated each word by knocking on the table.
Her husband dragged a hand over his own hair, mussing it up even further as he stared at her, helplessly confused. “But... why?”
“Because I find the idea of the two of you together to be really hot,” Lois said, flippantly. Clark went all goggle-eyed at her again, and she sighed, suddenly turning serious.
“We’re partners before we’re lovers, Clark,” she said, soft and quiet, and she could see Clark’s head jerk up further at the sound of his name on her lips, rather than the nickname she usually used. “You do your awesome superman thing in the sky, and I do my awesome Lois Lane reporting thing here, on the ground. And you told me once that your parents and I—we ground you here, on Earth, right?”
Clark nodded.
“And you teach me that it’s possible to fly. That there’s nothing that a person can’t do, no heights that they can’t reach if they don’t try.” Her eyes softened, and she reached out, took his hand in both of hers. “You taught me that it’s not the powers that matter, but what’s underneath.
“What you give Bruce is something similar. You could’ve been a conqueror here, instead of a hero. You could’ve been our worst mass murderer and none of us could’ve stopped you,” there was a pause, and she laughed a little. “You told me before that Bruce didn’t trust you initially because you had so much power, but he did learn. That you really are good and noble. That it’s possible for someone with your powers to be a good person. That the rest of the world isn’t as much of a shithole as Gotham can be.”
Clark looked stunned. Really, shouldn’t he already know this?
“But you need him too. I might remind you about what it’s like to be human, to be Clark Kent, but I think it’s Bruce who shows you what the best humanity had to offer.” She grinned at that. “He’s one hell of an arrogant, control freak asshole, but when you work with him—you get to see that us humans, we really don’t need that much help. That you don’t have to save us every time; that you don’t have to save everyone. That we’re fine on our own.”
She paused, “Well, not me exactly, because I’m not a martial artist with gliders in his cape, so really, I appreciate it when you pop by to pluck me out of the sky.”
“He hates that,” Clark said, and there was a fond little smile on the edge of his lip. It was entirely different from the kind of smile he had when he looked at her, and so it was easy enough for Lois to kick the surge of jealousy to the curb. “He always tells me to stay out of Gotham, that he doesn’t need me.”
“And how,” Lois drawled, “does that make you feel?”
“That it’s okay,” he said, softly. “Gotham’s in good hands. And if I go, I don’t need to be there as Superman. I can just be Clark.”
“There you go,” she said, as if it was as simple as that. “And, Clark—I love you. I love you whether you’re Clark, or Superman, or Kal-El. But I won’t deny that the one I understand most is Clark, because I might be able to hold you after Superman’s missions and tell you it’s okay now, I won’t get it. I won’t get the kind of crushing guilt you feel about not being able to save someone, or the kind of exhaustion you feel after facing monsters like Darkseid. I understand it intellectually, but that’s not the same.
“But he gets it.”
Clark nodded, and his voice was barely above a quiet murmur. “Sometimes I think he feels it worse than I do. The people he fights... his enemies... he has to learn to think like them to defeat them, and so many of them are so plainly insane that I’m sometimes afraid that he would be forced into becoming like them.”
“Well,” Lois said. “That’s what he had you for, isn’t it?”
There was a short, quiet laugh, and Clark tugged at the hairs at the base of his neck. Lois smiled, because—just look at him, her husband. The most powerful man on the planet, behaving like a schoolboy whose mother had just found his porn stash.
“I still don’t understand,” he said quietly, looking at her.
She sighed; he could be so thick sometimes. “You need him,” she said, simply. “And he needs you as well. He gives you what you need that I can’t give, like what I can give you is something that he can’t.” Normalcy, openness, and a place where he could just be Clark. Not even Clark Kent, reporter, but just Clark, husband to Lois Lane and son of Martha and Jonathan.
“Why should I keep you away from that?” Then, she smiled, large and teasing. “And, like I said, the thought of the two of you together is really hot.”
She stood up, walking over to his side of the table and pressing a kiss on the top of his head. Her fearless, superheroic husband, made completely helpless and fretting because he was afraid that she would be angry at him for sleeping with someone whom he needed as much as he needed her, even though he had never dared to admit it. How could she doubt his love for her?
(Well okay, she doubted it often, when it came to Lana and Lori and all of those women. But those were entirely justified. No one was allowed to tell her that her logic was warped.)
Clark tilted his head up, caught her hand in one of his own, much larger one. He pressed a kiss against the palm, and then reached up and cupped Lois’s jaw with the other hand, tugging her down until he could kiss her full on the lips.
“What did I do to deserve a wonderful wife like you?”
“Well,” she said, pretending to consider. “To begin with, you saved me from certain death when I fell off my office building.” She pecked him on the lips. “And then you helped me copy-edit all of my articles—that’s totally worth a lifetime of devotion.”
He threw her head back and laughed, and the tension around his shoulders that had lingered for the past few days finally disappeared. Then, he frowned slightly.
“He’s avoiding me.”
Her eyebrow went back up, and she sat at the corner of the table, not bothering to get back to her seat. “Uh huh. So what exactly happened between the two of you?”
He told her.
Lois blinked. She should have been used to strange things given her vocation (it was more than just a job, damnit) and her relationship with Clark, but to be honest, the things that Gotham came up with sometimes still surprised her.
“So... basically you both got sprayed by some sort of sex powder made by Poison Ivy, humped on a van, and then he chased you out and now is avoiding you?” she didn’t even bother to keep the incredulity out of her voice.
“Lois!” Clark was blushing now, ducking his head down. “Yeah, that’s it. That and I nearly flattened him against the van.”
“And here I thought it was something actually scandalous,” she said, leaning in and fluttering her fingers around him. “Really, Smallville, doesn’t the fact that he’s avoiding you instead of behaving like it was nothing tell you something? I don’t claim to know him as well as you do, but he could’ve just behaved as if nothing had happened. Just another ‘incident’ on the job.”
There was a pause. She could practically hear the gears in his head turn.
“... Huh,” he said. He blinked, eyes narrowing, and Lois had a love-hate relationship with that look, because it usually meant that Clark was going to out-scoop her again. And really, she loved him, but she also loved having her by-line on the front page constantly.
“Hah,” he said again.
“If you’re quite done with making masculine grunting noises, care to share with the class?” her voice was wry.
“You’re brilliant,” he declared, and before she could even say that she knew that perfectly well, thank you very much for the compliment, he kissed her again, this time long and lingering.
“Do you mind if I take a rain check on dinner?” he said, looking at the food around them. “I mean—I made all this for you and we ended up talking about Bruce throughout instead. But, I’ll make it up to you—”
Lois laughed, placing fingertips—with blunt, short nails that were unpainted and just a little bit over-bitten—on his lips.
“To paraphrase another woman, Smallville: Go get ‘im, tiger.”
Nodding at her, he turned towards the window, hands already on the collar of his shirt. She smirked.
“And Clark?” she called, and he turned around, half-distracted even as he looked at her.
“Remember the pictures this time.”
End
The fact that Clark copyedits all of Lois's articles is stolen from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saavikam77's wondrous, wondrous fic: 20 Random Facts About Lois Lane.
Next Part: Raise the Curtains
YEAH THIS FIC JUST PROVES IT, OKAY. JUST. PROVES. IT.
/stares at her It would go back to being Clark/Bruce soon. Very soon. /beats Lois back.
(This will most likely end up in a threesome. Or something. I don't think I'm supposed to like the 'third woman' as much as I adore Lois.)
Willing Blindfold
- Sequel to Closed Eyes
- Second of the Closed Eyes series
Characters/Pairings: Clark/Lois, Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG, mostly for swearing
Words: 2625
Summary: Lois gets her say, and Clark gets a surprise And Bruce? Bruce is probably very glad that he doesn’t have to witness any of this. Otherwise known as: the aftermath of sex pollen-induced sex with a married man.
It didn’t take long for Lois to realise that there was something wrong with Clark. It was easy enough to see – he had never been good at hiding his moods from the world, much less from her. In fact, he had never been particularly good at hiding anything at all.
(Just don’t mention the fact that Clark had managed to hide the fact that he was Superman from her for so long, thank you very much.
It makes her cranky, and no one liked dealing with a cranky Lois.)
But directly asking him about it would be an entirely useless endeavour – if it was something he wanted to share with her, he would have done so already. So it was something he wasn’t quite willing to spill yet—but that was entirely fine. She would just have to do a little investigation on her own. After all, she might not be the World’s Greatest Detective, but she was a pretty ace investigative reporter herself, if she was to say so herself.
So.
It was obviously nothing to do with the situation at home. If it was, Clark would’ve told her immediately instead of brooding on it. She had told him many times that if he had a serious problem with whatever she was doing, he should just tell her straight out. Because she had always done the same to him.
Was it something at work, then? It couldn’t be—the Planet was doing just fine, and was even safer lastly because there hadn’t been people bombing it or even threatening to bomb it. And Clark had even been pretty punctual about handing in his pieces, though his attendance was as sporadic as ever.
(Perry didn’t bother on check up on him lately, especially after the first time Lois chewed his head off when he implied that as Clark’s wife, she should know where he was all the time. She wasn’t his bloody babysitter.)
If normal work and home was out, then it had to be at his other job. More specifically, it had to be about the people at said other job, because if there had been disasters or Luthor-plots that bothered Clark, Lois would usually be at the frontlines, getting to know about it and reporting it. But since there wasn’t...
Okay, were there any reports of the Justice League breaking up again? Nope, and not even a peep about them even having interpersonal problems. Not that it said much, really, but Lois combed through the latest videos of them fighting together, and they worked together perfectly well. There was the usual amount of banter, mixed with orders being barked by the Batman... nothing unusual. Well—there was the usual quarrel between Green Arrow and Black Canary, but that was old news.
Lois allowed herself fifteen minutes of being distracted of her husband being exceedingly sexy while fighting crime in tights. Then, it was back to work. She was running out of options, so either she was close to grasping the truth... or she had been chasing clouds.
If it wasn’t the Justice League in itself, then it had to be its members. There were very few people whose actions and even presence could bother Clark so intensely and so personally. There was Lois herself, and... Well, Diana was always a lot more sensible than most.
It had to be Bruce. And if it was Bruce...
Let’s just say that she wasn't entirely surprised when she came home from work one day to find Clark setting the table for her favourite beef bourguignon. She only dropped her handbag on the couch and walked towards the dining table, taking her seat.
“So what’s the occasion?” she asked, one eyebrow hiked up.
Clark swallowed, and he looked like he had managed to set her wardrobe on fire with heat vision. Along with her Pulitzer. And had some more to spare for the pants he was wearing at that very moment, for good measure.
He took a deep breath. Sat down. “Can’t I just spoil my wife once in a while?”
“Uh huh,” Lois said, and looked at him. She waited, speared a piece of meat with her fork and chewed. “So, what happened between you and Bruce?”
She would never get over the fact that it was so easy to make Superman gape at her like a drowned fish.
“Um,” he said, and fortunately he knew her well enough to not try to deny it. Invulnerability or not, she would try to set him on fire if he tried. He took another deep breath. Opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Blurted it out. (Finally.)
“I slept with Bruce.”
Lois ate another piece of beef. Chewed it slowly and watched Clark squirm, amused beyond measure. Really, what did he think that she would say?
“Did you take pictures?”
Clark stared at her, mouth agape again and it was a good thing that he hadn’t eaten anything yet, or else he would have choked. Lois laughed silently, dropping an elbow on the table and her head in her hands as she looked at him.
“Well?”
“Lois—what are you—what—”
“Oh come on, Clark,” she said, grinning now. “Don’t tell me that you managed to get the famous Batman somewhere that he didn’t have any surveillance equipment? Or that you forgot to take pictures for me? Not everyone has your photographic memory, you know—sometimes we even need photographs.”
”You’re not...” Clark swallowed, eyes wide and the blue in them so startlingly beautiful that Lois almost regretted teasing him like this. Almost. “You’re not angry?”
“No.”
“But I cheated on you! And you told me that if I ever did—”
“I’ll toss you out of here on your ear,” Lois finished for him. “Yes, Smallville, I remember what I said.”
“So, why—”
“I also remember saying,” Lois said, steamrolling over him and his half-formed, confused protests, “that if ‘you ever sleep with Lana, Lori, Lyla, or any of those other women with L names that you seem to be irresistibly drawn to, I will kick you out and you can find divorce papers on your desk the next morning’.” She folded her hands, and popped another piece of beef into her mouth. “As far as I know, Bruce’s name doesn’t start with L, and he’s not a woman.”
Her eyes narrowed, “Or are there further secrets beneath Batman’s armour?”
Clark sputtered, “What? What, no! He’s...” He took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Lois, I don’t understand.”
“Then I’ll break it down simpler to you, Smallville: I. Don’t. Mind.” She punctuated each word by knocking on the table.
Her husband dragged a hand over his own hair, mussing it up even further as he stared at her, helplessly confused. “But... why?”
“Because I find the idea of the two of you together to be really hot,” Lois said, flippantly. Clark went all goggle-eyed at her again, and she sighed, suddenly turning serious.
“We’re partners before we’re lovers, Clark,” she said, soft and quiet, and she could see Clark’s head jerk up further at the sound of his name on her lips, rather than the nickname she usually used. “You do your awesome superman thing in the sky, and I do my awesome Lois Lane reporting thing here, on the ground. And you told me once that your parents and I—we ground you here, on Earth, right?”
Clark nodded.
“And you teach me that it’s possible to fly. That there’s nothing that a person can’t do, no heights that they can’t reach if they don’t try.” Her eyes softened, and she reached out, took his hand in both of hers. “You taught me that it’s not the powers that matter, but what’s underneath.
“What you give Bruce is something similar. You could’ve been a conqueror here, instead of a hero. You could’ve been our worst mass murderer and none of us could’ve stopped you,” there was a pause, and she laughed a little. “You told me before that Bruce didn’t trust you initially because you had so much power, but he did learn. That you really are good and noble. That it’s possible for someone with your powers to be a good person. That the rest of the world isn’t as much of a shithole as Gotham can be.”
Clark looked stunned. Really, shouldn’t he already know this?
“But you need him too. I might remind you about what it’s like to be human, to be Clark Kent, but I think it’s Bruce who shows you what the best humanity had to offer.” She grinned at that. “He’s one hell of an arrogant, control freak asshole, but when you work with him—you get to see that us humans, we really don’t need that much help. That you don’t have to save us every time; that you don’t have to save everyone. That we’re fine on our own.”
She paused, “Well, not me exactly, because I’m not a martial artist with gliders in his cape, so really, I appreciate it when you pop by to pluck me out of the sky.”
“He hates that,” Clark said, and there was a fond little smile on the edge of his lip. It was entirely different from the kind of smile he had when he looked at her, and so it was easy enough for Lois to kick the surge of jealousy to the curb. “He always tells me to stay out of Gotham, that he doesn’t need me.”
“And how,” Lois drawled, “does that make you feel?”
“That it’s okay,” he said, softly. “Gotham’s in good hands. And if I go, I don’t need to be there as Superman. I can just be Clark.”
“There you go,” she said, as if it was as simple as that. “And, Clark—I love you. I love you whether you’re Clark, or Superman, or Kal-El. But I won’t deny that the one I understand most is Clark, because I might be able to hold you after Superman’s missions and tell you it’s okay now, I won’t get it. I won’t get the kind of crushing guilt you feel about not being able to save someone, or the kind of exhaustion you feel after facing monsters like Darkseid. I understand it intellectually, but that’s not the same.
“But he gets it.”
Clark nodded, and his voice was barely above a quiet murmur. “Sometimes I think he feels it worse than I do. The people he fights... his enemies... he has to learn to think like them to defeat them, and so many of them are so plainly insane that I’m sometimes afraid that he would be forced into becoming like them.”
“Well,” Lois said. “That’s what he had you for, isn’t it?”
There was a short, quiet laugh, and Clark tugged at the hairs at the base of his neck. Lois smiled, because—just look at him, her husband. The most powerful man on the planet, behaving like a schoolboy whose mother had just found his porn stash.
“I still don’t understand,” he said quietly, looking at her.
She sighed; he could be so thick sometimes. “You need him,” she said, simply. “And he needs you as well. He gives you what you need that I can’t give, like what I can give you is something that he can’t.” Normalcy, openness, and a place where he could just be Clark. Not even Clark Kent, reporter, but just Clark, husband to Lois Lane and son of Martha and Jonathan.
“Why should I keep you away from that?” Then, she smiled, large and teasing. “And, like I said, the thought of the two of you together is really hot.”
She stood up, walking over to his side of the table and pressing a kiss on the top of his head. Her fearless, superheroic husband, made completely helpless and fretting because he was afraid that she would be angry at him for sleeping with someone whom he needed as much as he needed her, even though he had never dared to admit it. How could she doubt his love for her?
(Well okay, she doubted it often, when it came to Lana and Lori and all of those women. But those were entirely justified. No one was allowed to tell her that her logic was warped.)
Clark tilted his head up, caught her hand in one of his own, much larger one. He pressed a kiss against the palm, and then reached up and cupped Lois’s jaw with the other hand, tugging her down until he could kiss her full on the lips.
“What did I do to deserve a wonderful wife like you?”
“Well,” she said, pretending to consider. “To begin with, you saved me from certain death when I fell off my office building.” She pecked him on the lips. “And then you helped me copy-edit all of my articles—that’s totally worth a lifetime of devotion.”
He threw her head back and laughed, and the tension around his shoulders that had lingered for the past few days finally disappeared. Then, he frowned slightly.
“He’s avoiding me.”
Her eyebrow went back up, and she sat at the corner of the table, not bothering to get back to her seat. “Uh huh. So what exactly happened between the two of you?”
He told her.
Lois blinked. She should have been used to strange things given her vocation (it was more than just a job, damnit) and her relationship with Clark, but to be honest, the things that Gotham came up with sometimes still surprised her.
“So... basically you both got sprayed by some sort of sex powder made by Poison Ivy, humped on a van, and then he chased you out and now is avoiding you?” she didn’t even bother to keep the incredulity out of her voice.
“Lois!” Clark was blushing now, ducking his head down. “Yeah, that’s it. That and I nearly flattened him against the van.”
“And here I thought it was something actually scandalous,” she said, leaning in and fluttering her fingers around him. “Really, Smallville, doesn’t the fact that he’s avoiding you instead of behaving like it was nothing tell you something? I don’t claim to know him as well as you do, but he could’ve just behaved as if nothing had happened. Just another ‘incident’ on the job.”
There was a pause. She could practically hear the gears in his head turn.
“... Huh,” he said. He blinked, eyes narrowing, and Lois had a love-hate relationship with that look, because it usually meant that Clark was going to out-scoop her again. And really, she loved him, but she also loved having her by-line on the front page constantly.
“Hah,” he said again.
“If you’re quite done with making masculine grunting noises, care to share with the class?” her voice was wry.
“You’re brilliant,” he declared, and before she could even say that she knew that perfectly well, thank you very much for the compliment, he kissed her again, this time long and lingering.
“Do you mind if I take a rain check on dinner?” he said, looking at the food around them. “I mean—I made all this for you and we ended up talking about Bruce throughout instead. But, I’ll make it up to you—”
Lois laughed, placing fingertips—with blunt, short nails that were unpainted and just a little bit over-bitten—on his lips.
“To paraphrase another woman, Smallville: Go get ‘im, tiger.”
Nodding at her, he turned towards the window, hands already on the collar of his shirt. She smirked.
“And Clark?” she called, and he turned around, half-distracted even as he looked at her.
“Remember the pictures this time.”
End
The fact that Clark copyedits all of Lois's articles is stolen from
saavikam77's wondrous, wondrous fic: 20 Random Facts About Lois Lane.Next Part: Raise the Curtains