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Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Clark and Lois
Rating: G(I think. There are two mild 'a$$es'. 8D)
Summary: I was asked to gather some of my stories scattered around the forum into one thread, so I'm reposting here. This is the 'All The While' trilogy, with inter- and afterlude. In fact, there's scope for more stories in Clark and Lois's gap year. Hmm. Jeez, I'm making a rod for my own back with this story.
N.B: It's far too long, and I don't know how to break it up into separate postings, so if someone could do me a favor and just post 'spacers' so I can break up the chapters? That would be cool.
EDIT: If anyone's curious about the soundtrack to this fic, courtesy of Elfman101...
Part I: All the while
Kate Rusby - “You Belong To Me.”
“See the pyramids along the Nile,
See the sunrise from a tropic isle,
Just remember, darling, all the while,…”
They got so loud sometimes, people at the other tables couldn’t help but overhear. Some frowned at them over paperbacks, trying to make them feel their displeasure, but the wiser ones smiled, as if they’d been let in on a secret.
“I never thought you were that jaded,” Clark said. He sipped at his coffee and grimaced. They had been arguing so long, it had gone stone cold.
“I never thought you were that naďve,” Lois shot back. “I’m telling you, that song is about a possessive lover.”
“Are you puttin' me on?”
“Oh, come on,” Lois grinned, knowing how easy he was to bait. “It’s someone saying that no matter where you go in the world, I own you. Wilma, property of Fred.” She lifted her leg and mimed a stamp on her butt to illustrate her point, smirking as Clark raised an eyebrow.
“No, no, no,” he shook his head, incensed and loving every minute. “It’s about a lover’s promise. It’s saying, no matter where you go in the world, don’t forget me, and come home to me.”
“Granted, first listen, it sounds all sappy and romantic, but listen to it closer. It’s saying, no matter where you go in the world, I can get to you. Might as well be a stalker’s anthem.”
Clark choked back a laugh, almost spitting his coffee across the table.
“Jeez, Smallville, say it, don’t spray it.”
He was silent for a moment, remembering how he came by the nickname. After Lois found him, amnesiac and naked in a cornfield, she drove him to hospital. Since he couldn’t remember his name, and since she hated uncomfortable silences, she started calling him things like ‘Johnny Smallville’ or ‘Smallville Joe.’ The ‘Smallville’ part sort of stuck. Most of the time, he only pretended to hate it. That was their game.
“I always thought that was what love was supposed to be, you know? You leave a part of yourself with someone, and they give you a part of themselves back?”
Lois sat back and crossed her legs, thinking it over. “I don’t know about that. I figure if you love someone, you don’t ask them to give up ANY part of themselves.”
“It’s not giving up, it’s sharing a little. And if you love someone, maybe you don’t even have to ask.”
Lois shook her head. “I’m not sure I could do that.”
Clark’s eyebrows shot up. “You're kidding. You’d fight dragons with your bare hands for the people you love. Remember when you thought Chloe was dead, you came charging to Smallville? When your sister needed you, you went all over Europe looking for her. You even ran through a meteor storm, a METEOR STORM…to save my family.”
She blushed slightly. “That’s different.”
Clark smiled at her warmly. “Not the way I see it.”
He had a way of doing that, making her feel ten feet tall as easily as shooting the breeze. Lois reached over, plucked his glasses from his face and pulled her sleeve over her hand. “Surprised you can see anything through all that road dust, Smallville.”
He grinned, warming their coffees discreetly with his heat vision, while Lois polished his lenses with the soft sleeve of her sweater. She was always fussing at him lately, straightening his tie, squaring his shoulders, brushing down his coat.
“How did we get onto this, anyway?” Lois asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows where ANY of our little chats end up lately?”
It was true. Some time ago, they’d found their conversations taking unexpected turns; they might start talking about dinner, and two hours later find themselves telling each other what they got for their eleventh birthday. They’d drawn some odd looks, particularly from their families. Even though it was never spoken of, they knew what everyone thought, but it wasn’t like that. They just moved past pretending to hate each other and actually became friends. Lois gave Clark a kick in the rear (metaphorically speaking) when he started brooding, and Clark could soothe Lois when she got angry or upset. It was a system and it worked for them.
She looked over at him, staring deep into his coffee cup. Even when he was quiet like this, she’d grown used to his company. There was something calming about his presence, like a warm blanket after a storm. He listened when she said she wanted to quit her journalism studies, and then just asked her the last time she quit on anything. He seemed to get her, even on mundane things like when he guessed her natural hair was chestnut brown. Not only brown, but chestnut brown. She’d grown it out again recently; not for him, she thought it’d make her look more scholarly. In fact, she’d felt the need to change her whole style. She was tired of being seen in that way. Of course, she told this to Clark and he’d just nodded; he understood. It often amazed her that even when he was a perfect stranger to her, she found herself telling all her secrets, things not even her beloved cousin knew.
‘Maybe it’s because he’s good at keeping secrets,’ she thought. ‘Or maybe it’s just because I trust him.’
The last thought surprised her, but she knew it was so. And then another thought occurred to her that made her smile.
‘Or maybe it’s because he keeps getting amnesia, the big tree.’
“Look at me.”
Clark looked up, his clear green eyes briefly meeting Lois’ rich hazel ones as she leaned across the table and set his glasses gently back on his face. He’d started wearing them after a few close calls last year, trying to throw off suspicion with an appearance of vulnerability.
“You ever think about getting contacts?”
She almost laughed as Clark scrunched his nose like a child.
“I don’t like wearing them. They make my eyes itch.” He raised a mock suave eyebrow, pushing the stylish tortoiseshell frames askew on his nose, and in his best Sean Connery, (which wasn’t very good) “Beshides, glashes sheem to make me look shex-shay.”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Better than those Godawful plaid shirts, anyway. You looked like a giant bar chart.”
Clark laughed deep in his chest, as he often did around Lois. It was true he’d phased the plaid out of his wardrobe eventually, along with the loud jackets, gotten his hair cut into a neater style, still with some length in it; he had a habit of running his hands through his hair when he was frustrated. There had been a change in him; he wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but he suspected it had more than a little to do with Lois. She’d come barrelling through his small world like a twister, turned everything upside down, and it wasn’t until later he realized that was what he needed. She stiffened his spine, told him what he needed to hear even if he didn’t want to hear it. She never let him alone, but never let him feel alone. She was still obnoxious and pushy and loud. And challenging and compassionate and fiercely loyal. She was never dull, at least. He smiled as he straightened his glasses. He realized he’d developed a tolerance for Lois. Like measles.
“So, have you found a place yet?” Clark asked.
Lois had moved out of the Talon apartment a few weeks ago; she was working in Metropolis now as well as studying there, and the commute had been a pain, so it was easier to leave Smallville and move into the city.
“Yeah, but I can’t move in until the end of the month. I’m still crashing on Chloe’s couch until then. And you can wipe that smile off your face.”
Clark held his hands up, feigning innocence, but he couldn’t suppress the smirk at what seemed like karma biting Lois Lane in the a$$. Every time she visited the farm, Clark found himself back on the couch, sleeping with his knees virtually up to his chest, and Lois visited Martha (the first name was his moms idea; Lois was trying to get used to it) often. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet the house was when she was away.
...“See the marketplace in old Angiers,
Send me photographs and souvenirs,
Just remember when a dream appears,…
“...All passengers for flight 117, departing for Venice, please proceed to Terminal 4…”
“That’s me,” he said, chugging the rest of his coffee, trying to wash down the tightness in his throat. His father, Jor-El had been encouraging him to go out into the world and Clark had to admit, he’d thought seriously about it. He could do some real good for people with his powers, perhaps learn a new language, and his need to vanish for a while seemed to seal the deal. He bought a cheap ticket over the Internet with the money from his first professional article (he wasn’t yet confident about long-distance flying), and he felt like he was finally moving towards his future, whatever that was. Still, leaving home was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn’t slept all night; he could comfortably go without sleep for weeks, but that wasn’t the point.
“Are you scared?” Lois asked, teasing to hide her concern.
“A little.” Clark answered honestly. “I’ll be fine.”
He’d long since broken his fear of heights; last year, Lois’ was on a ‘plane home after a visit with her sister, and her flight had gotten into trouble over the airport. Clark barely even thought about it, he just launched into the air and brought the ‘plane down safely; he surprised even himself with his power. Since then, however, the rumors had surfaced. No-one had gotten a close look, thankfully, and sightings of the ‘Superhuman Man’ were ridiculed as X-Styles stuff, like Bigfoot or the Mothman. Nevertheless, the near-to-home attention made Clark nervous, particularly the keen interest Lois was taking. Slowly, even reluctantly, he pulled himself to his feet, patting his pockets, checking his travel documents, boarding pass, passport, hefting his rucksack over one shoulder like it was feathers. Stalling. He just couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
When Clark stood up (God, seems like he’s gotten taller!), Lois felt a sudden pang. He was really leaving. They had known for a few weeks, of course; he and his mother had invited them to dinner at the farm and told them all together. They said their goodbyes in their own way; Martha had quietly hugged her son, and told him not to worry about her. Over Clark’s protests, Ollie gave him a gift of travellers cheques for airfare and told him if he needed anything else, don’t hesitate to pick up the phone. Ben Hubbard shook his hand warmly and promised to look after the farm. Pete patted him on the back and said he wished he was going with him, and Chloe wished her best friend luck through a tearful smile. Typical Lois, she socked him in the shoulder and warned him not to drink the water. She had already known; she went up to his loft first and found his stuff packed in boxes ready for storage, his passport and tickets out on his desk.
Lois stood up. “Walk you to the gate?” She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept her voice breezy.
“Sure.” Clark smiled, that grin that warmed her like sunshine, and she knew she wouldn’t see it again for a long time. She shrugged her jacket on as she finished the last of her coffee and they walked in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts.
Curiously enough, Clark had trouble getting a ride to Metropolis Airport; everyone seemed to have an excuse. His mom had some meeting to attend, and Chloe said her dad needed her help with something, although Gabe had to be reminded, and no-one seemed to want to go into specifics. So, it fell to Lois. Expecting eye-rolling protests, Clark was about to say he’d call a cab, but instead, she shrugged her shoulders and said “Sure.” Which is when Martha said something weird.
“It’ll give you a chance to say goodbye.”
...“I’ll be so alone without you,
Maybe you’ll be lonesome, too…”
Clark knew Lois hated goodbyes of any kind. The plan had been to get out at the airport and give her an excuse to leave. Still, when they got there, the thought flashed across his mind; ‘I don’t want this to end.’ Before he knew it, he’d offered to get her a thank-you coffee for giving him a lift. She came along just to keep him company, he thought. She probably knew he didn’t want to sit there alone like a doofus.
Lois was not a fan of long goodbyes. The plan had been to drop him off at the airport and get away as quickly as possible, but somehow she ended up sitting in an airport coffee lounge talking his ear off about twentieth century pop music (one day, she WOULD convert him to Whitesnake). A thought had flashed across her mind; ‘I don’t want this to end.’
“I guess this is no big deal for you, huh?”
Lois shot a puzzled frown up at him.
“I mean, you’d been all over the world twice before you were eighteen, right?”
She could feel his excitement as they approached the gate, the adventure in front of him.
“You’re gonna love it. And you’d better write, Smallville, or I’ll catch a flight myself just to kick your a$$.”
The laugh Lois loved to hear, and it was going away. ‘Everyone leaves,’ she thought bitterly, then shook it off. She refused to make this about her. This trip was what he wanted.
Clark suddenly felt like he’d never laugh again. He looked down at the floor, hiding his eyes for a second. ‘She thinks I’m betraying her,’ he thought, his heart twisting at his selfishness. He dismissed that thought quickly, knowing she’d kill him for brooding.
IdontwannagoIdontwannaleaveyouplease willyouevenmissmewillyouwritemeback.
“Will you write me back, Lois?”
“Count on it.”
It was a poor substitute, but better than nothing. Really, she wanted to ask him when he was coming back. She knew it’d make them both uncomfortable.
“Well,…” Clark said.
“Yeah,…” Lois countered. So much for long goodbyes.
StaypleasedontleaveIdontwantyoutogo stayherewithmedontforgetmeIllmissyou.
“I’ll miss you, Clark.”
He let out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding. “I’ll miss you, too, Lois.”
They put their arms around each other. She pressed her cheek into his chest, holding him with her whole heart. He wrapped her up and gently rocked her, keeping this memory safe inside to carry with him. Neither wanted to say it, but both knew it had to be said.
“Goodbye.”
He turned at the gate to see her one last time, smiled and waved. She waved back, watching him disappear around the corner. And then, he was gone.
It wasn’t until the plane left the ground that Clark really felt it; the ache deep in his bones, the tearing grief of leaving behind all that he loved in this world, all that loved him. He’d never felt more alone in his life. He couldn’t bear to think of it, focusing instead on what lay ahead of him, the things he would learn, the man he hoped to become. When the time was right, he knew he would come home. There was too much of himself here to leave behind forever.
Lois didn’t watch his plane leave. She just got in her car and drove back to her cousin’s place. Chloe was out, the apartment was empty. She was fine. Until for some reason, while she was making coffee, she ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing until her chest ached. Then she stood up, washed her face with cold water and poured herself a coffee; no-one saw, and no-one knew. Her tears were like her secrets; she never gave them away.
“Except,” she smiled to herself “to perfect strangers.”
...“Fly the ocean in a silver plane,
See the jungle when it’s wet with rain,
Just remember ‘til you’re home again,
You belong to me....
You belong to me.”
Interlude: Azabache
…It wasn’t until the plane left the ground that Clark really felt it; the ache deep in his bones, the tearing grief of leaving behind all that he loved in this world, all that loved him. He’d never felt more alone in his life…
The last time he remembered feeling like this was after the second meteor storm, when the house was demolished. The family were tearing up everything that couldn’t be saved; a lot of personal effects were lost in the impact. Most of Clark’s room was now on the ground floor, or in the garden. He searched at superspeed first, then at normal speed, then painfully slowly one more time, but amongst the wreckage and burnt debris, there was no way of telling. The bracelet that Joseph Willowbrook had given him. A Kawache bracelet, bearing the symbol of Naman’s promised one, meant for Clark’s soulmate. He usually kept it in the loft, but that night, he’d been woken by a bad dream, and felt some strange urge to have it with him, as if looking for comfort before the storm he knew was coming.
He’d taken it from the loft and slept in the house with it, cold metal warmed by his skin. Next morning, he left it in his bedside cabinet while Lois was in the shower, and that was the last he saw of it. He considered asking her if she’d seen it, but it’d raise too many questions about why he owned it, why it was so important, all sorts of things he didn’t want to answer. He tried to put a brave face on it, say that the family had lost nothing but things in the storm, but he couldn’t help but see it as a message. The bracelet was a promise of a future love that was meant to be. And now it was gone, lost or destroyed.
‘Maybe the reason I lost the bracelet,’ thought Clark, as the nose of the plane tipped up into the air, ‘is because I’m meant to be alone…’
He couldn’t bear to think of it, focusing instead on what lay ahead of him, the things he would learn, the man he hoped to become…
…In the aftermath of the meteor storm, groups of volunteers were searching for the lost, the missing, the injured, and one such group went to the Kent Farm looking for a young man by the name of Jason Teague, on Mr Kent’s suggestion. One of the rescuers lifted aside a shattered bedside cabinet, the drawers crashing forlornly to the ground, and spilling out a silver-turquoise bracelet, ringing across the floor like a bell. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like costume jewellery, but Esperanza Ramirez thought it might be a traditional azabache, a blessing bracelet made to protect loved ones from harm through those envious of their beauty. To certain collectors, it might be quite valuable; Esperanza could use the money, and they would probably assume it was lost in the meteor storm. To her constant shame, she stole the bracelet, and sold it as soon as she got back to Granville the next day. Ever since then, she had feared the consequences of her actions…
…Lois didn’t watch his plane leave. She just got in her car and drove back to her cousin’s place. Chloe was out, the apartment was empty. She was fine. Until for some reason, while she was making coffee, she ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing until her chest ached…
…The next day, Lois left college early and headed out to the Daily Planet to see her cousin. What with her best friend leaving, Chloe naturally felt a little blue; she denied it, but Lois could tell. So, she bagged a few tickets to a gig by an about-to-break band, the Hold Steady, and was twisting her cousin’s arm to hit the town with her.
“I guess it’d be OK,” Chloe said, “since I miss Clark so much.”
She pulled that infuriating know-it-all smirk again that made Lois want to strangle her blue. ‘I love ya, cuz,’ she thought, ‘but sometimes, I just wanna staple your lips shut.’
“First thing we have to do,” said Chloe, “if we’re going out, we need new clothes. And that involves…” her eyes shone almost manically, “…shopping!” Lois groaned, only on the outside; she had never called herself a girly-girl, but quietly admitted to looking forward to some time with her cousin.
A few hours and a quick lunch later, the girls walked back to the car, hooked arm-in-arm and chattering good-natured nonsense. They had finally completed their mission; to find outfits that would make grown men faint at the sight of them. Lois stopped her cousin short at the mouth of a wide alley; an odd notion had taken her.
“The Boho quarter’s down this way, isn’t it?” asked Lois.
“The Big Apricot version of Greenwich Village? Yeah.”
“Wanna check it out, try something different?”
Chloe shrugged. “Sure,” she frowned a little, thinking it was an odd request.
It was like walking into a scene-beat from “That 70’s Show.” The stores were overflowing with gypsy skirts, tie-dye and incense burners. Lois was wide-eyed and smiling. “Wow, this place rocks SWWEEET.”
It figured Lois would be comfortable here, considering her ‘old school’ taste in music. “Oh, yeah. Very ashcan-chic, ” said Chloe, far less convinced, and even a little snobbish, Lois thought.
Lois’ eye was caught by something in one of the store windows, and she dragged her cousin over.
“What do you think?”
Chloe studied the object of Lois’ sudden affection. “Not really my style,” she said. It was a little too gothic for her taste.
“I think it’s cute and a little punky. It’d go perfectly with that little black thing you just bought.”
Chloe remained unconvinced, and even less so when she tilted her head and looked at the price tag, eyes widening. “With THAT many dead presidents on it, I’d HAVE to wear black.”
Lois bit her lip; she wasn't usually big on costume jewellery, but there was something about it. She went to the door.
“Oh, I see,” said Chloe, as they entered, “so you were trying to get me to buy it so you could borrow it…?
Not much later, Lois exited the store with her new favorite thing, turning her wrist in the light to admire it. Chloe shook her head. “An azabache? That woman must have 20/20 vision, because she saw you coming.”
“I like it,” Lois shrugged simply. The cuff looked Incan, or native American. It suited her taller frame; on Chloe and her ‘chicken wrists,’ it looked clunky, and the blonde was a little pale to carry off the silver finish, which suited Lois’ slightly duskier complexion well. The diamond shaped stone setting of polished turquoise made an eye-catching centerpiece, too. Chloe had to admit, it just looked better on Lois than it had on her.
“So,” said Lois, “ready to set the roof on fire?”
Chloe smiled and linked her cousin’s arm again, happy to be by her side. “Burn, baby, burn.”
They walked towards the car, and whatever adventures lay ahead of them.
Pairing: Clark and Lois
Rating: G(I think. There are two mild 'a$$es'. 8D)
Summary: I was asked to gather some of my stories scattered around the forum into one thread, so I'm reposting here. This is the 'All The While' trilogy, with inter- and afterlude. In fact, there's scope for more stories in Clark and Lois's gap year. Hmm. Jeez, I'm making a rod for my own back with this story.
N.B: It's far too long, and I don't know how to break it up into separate postings, so if someone could do me a favor and just post 'spacers' so I can break up the chapters? That would be cool.
EDIT: If anyone's curious about the soundtrack to this fic, courtesy of Elfman101...
Part I: All the while
Kate Rusby - “You Belong To Me.”
“See the pyramids along the Nile,
See the sunrise from a tropic isle,
Just remember, darling, all the while,…”
They got so loud sometimes, people at the other tables couldn’t help but overhear. Some frowned at them over paperbacks, trying to make them feel their displeasure, but the wiser ones smiled, as if they’d been let in on a secret.
“I never thought you were that jaded,” Clark said. He sipped at his coffee and grimaced. They had been arguing so long, it had gone stone cold.
“I never thought you were that naďve,” Lois shot back. “I’m telling you, that song is about a possessive lover.”
“Are you puttin' me on?”
“Oh, come on,” Lois grinned, knowing how easy he was to bait. “It’s someone saying that no matter where you go in the world, I own you. Wilma, property of Fred.” She lifted her leg and mimed a stamp on her butt to illustrate her point, smirking as Clark raised an eyebrow.
“No, no, no,” he shook his head, incensed and loving every minute. “It’s about a lover’s promise. It’s saying, no matter where you go in the world, don’t forget me, and come home to me.”
“Granted, first listen, it sounds all sappy and romantic, but listen to it closer. It’s saying, no matter where you go in the world, I can get to you. Might as well be a stalker’s anthem.”
Clark choked back a laugh, almost spitting his coffee across the table.
“Jeez, Smallville, say it, don’t spray it.”
He was silent for a moment, remembering how he came by the nickname. After Lois found him, amnesiac and naked in a cornfield, she drove him to hospital. Since he couldn’t remember his name, and since she hated uncomfortable silences, she started calling him things like ‘Johnny Smallville’ or ‘Smallville Joe.’ The ‘Smallville’ part sort of stuck. Most of the time, he only pretended to hate it. That was their game.
“I always thought that was what love was supposed to be, you know? You leave a part of yourself with someone, and they give you a part of themselves back?”
Lois sat back and crossed her legs, thinking it over. “I don’t know about that. I figure if you love someone, you don’t ask them to give up ANY part of themselves.”
“It’s not giving up, it’s sharing a little. And if you love someone, maybe you don’t even have to ask.”
Lois shook her head. “I’m not sure I could do that.”
Clark’s eyebrows shot up. “You're kidding. You’d fight dragons with your bare hands for the people you love. Remember when you thought Chloe was dead, you came charging to Smallville? When your sister needed you, you went all over Europe looking for her. You even ran through a meteor storm, a METEOR STORM…to save my family.”
She blushed slightly. “That’s different.”
Clark smiled at her warmly. “Not the way I see it.”
He had a way of doing that, making her feel ten feet tall as easily as shooting the breeze. Lois reached over, plucked his glasses from his face and pulled her sleeve over her hand. “Surprised you can see anything through all that road dust, Smallville.”
He grinned, warming their coffees discreetly with his heat vision, while Lois polished his lenses with the soft sleeve of her sweater. She was always fussing at him lately, straightening his tie, squaring his shoulders, brushing down his coat.
“How did we get onto this, anyway?” Lois asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows where ANY of our little chats end up lately?”
It was true. Some time ago, they’d found their conversations taking unexpected turns; they might start talking about dinner, and two hours later find themselves telling each other what they got for their eleventh birthday. They’d drawn some odd looks, particularly from their families. Even though it was never spoken of, they knew what everyone thought, but it wasn’t like that. They just moved past pretending to hate each other and actually became friends. Lois gave Clark a kick in the rear (metaphorically speaking) when he started brooding, and Clark could soothe Lois when she got angry or upset. It was a system and it worked for them.
She looked over at him, staring deep into his coffee cup. Even when he was quiet like this, she’d grown used to his company. There was something calming about his presence, like a warm blanket after a storm. He listened when she said she wanted to quit her journalism studies, and then just asked her the last time she quit on anything. He seemed to get her, even on mundane things like when he guessed her natural hair was chestnut brown. Not only brown, but chestnut brown. She’d grown it out again recently; not for him, she thought it’d make her look more scholarly. In fact, she’d felt the need to change her whole style. She was tired of being seen in that way. Of course, she told this to Clark and he’d just nodded; he understood. It often amazed her that even when he was a perfect stranger to her, she found herself telling all her secrets, things not even her beloved cousin knew.
‘Maybe it’s because he’s good at keeping secrets,’ she thought. ‘Or maybe it’s just because I trust him.’
The last thought surprised her, but she knew it was so. And then another thought occurred to her that made her smile.
‘Or maybe it’s because he keeps getting amnesia, the big tree.’
“Look at me.”
Clark looked up, his clear green eyes briefly meeting Lois’ rich hazel ones as she leaned across the table and set his glasses gently back on his face. He’d started wearing them after a few close calls last year, trying to throw off suspicion with an appearance of vulnerability.
“You ever think about getting contacts?”
She almost laughed as Clark scrunched his nose like a child.
“I don’t like wearing them. They make my eyes itch.” He raised a mock suave eyebrow, pushing the stylish tortoiseshell frames askew on his nose, and in his best Sean Connery, (which wasn’t very good) “Beshides, glashes sheem to make me look shex-shay.”
Lois rolled her eyes. “Better than those Godawful plaid shirts, anyway. You looked like a giant bar chart.”
Clark laughed deep in his chest, as he often did around Lois. It was true he’d phased the plaid out of his wardrobe eventually, along with the loud jackets, gotten his hair cut into a neater style, still with some length in it; he had a habit of running his hands through his hair when he was frustrated. There had been a change in him; he wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but he suspected it had more than a little to do with Lois. She’d come barrelling through his small world like a twister, turned everything upside down, and it wasn’t until later he realized that was what he needed. She stiffened his spine, told him what he needed to hear even if he didn’t want to hear it. She never let him alone, but never let him feel alone. She was still obnoxious and pushy and loud. And challenging and compassionate and fiercely loyal. She was never dull, at least. He smiled as he straightened his glasses. He realized he’d developed a tolerance for Lois. Like measles.
“So, have you found a place yet?” Clark asked.
Lois had moved out of the Talon apartment a few weeks ago; she was working in Metropolis now as well as studying there, and the commute had been a pain, so it was easier to leave Smallville and move into the city.
“Yeah, but I can’t move in until the end of the month. I’m still crashing on Chloe’s couch until then. And you can wipe that smile off your face.”
Clark held his hands up, feigning innocence, but he couldn’t suppress the smirk at what seemed like karma biting Lois Lane in the a$$. Every time she visited the farm, Clark found himself back on the couch, sleeping with his knees virtually up to his chest, and Lois visited Martha (the first name was his moms idea; Lois was trying to get used to it) often. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet the house was when she was away.
...“See the marketplace in old Angiers,
Send me photographs and souvenirs,
Just remember when a dream appears,…
“...All passengers for flight 117, departing for Venice, please proceed to Terminal 4…”
“That’s me,” he said, chugging the rest of his coffee, trying to wash down the tightness in his throat. His father, Jor-El had been encouraging him to go out into the world and Clark had to admit, he’d thought seriously about it. He could do some real good for people with his powers, perhaps learn a new language, and his need to vanish for a while seemed to seal the deal. He bought a cheap ticket over the Internet with the money from his first professional article (he wasn’t yet confident about long-distance flying), and he felt like he was finally moving towards his future, whatever that was. Still, leaving home was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn’t slept all night; he could comfortably go without sleep for weeks, but that wasn’t the point.
“Are you scared?” Lois asked, teasing to hide her concern.
“A little.” Clark answered honestly. “I’ll be fine.”
He’d long since broken his fear of heights; last year, Lois’ was on a ‘plane home after a visit with her sister, and her flight had gotten into trouble over the airport. Clark barely even thought about it, he just launched into the air and brought the ‘plane down safely; he surprised even himself with his power. Since then, however, the rumors had surfaced. No-one had gotten a close look, thankfully, and sightings of the ‘Superhuman Man’ were ridiculed as X-Styles stuff, like Bigfoot or the Mothman. Nevertheless, the near-to-home attention made Clark nervous, particularly the keen interest Lois was taking. Slowly, even reluctantly, he pulled himself to his feet, patting his pockets, checking his travel documents, boarding pass, passport, hefting his rucksack over one shoulder like it was feathers. Stalling. He just couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
When Clark stood up (God, seems like he’s gotten taller!), Lois felt a sudden pang. He was really leaving. They had known for a few weeks, of course; he and his mother had invited them to dinner at the farm and told them all together. They said their goodbyes in their own way; Martha had quietly hugged her son, and told him not to worry about her. Over Clark’s protests, Ollie gave him a gift of travellers cheques for airfare and told him if he needed anything else, don’t hesitate to pick up the phone. Ben Hubbard shook his hand warmly and promised to look after the farm. Pete patted him on the back and said he wished he was going with him, and Chloe wished her best friend luck through a tearful smile. Typical Lois, she socked him in the shoulder and warned him not to drink the water. She had already known; she went up to his loft first and found his stuff packed in boxes ready for storage, his passport and tickets out on his desk.
Lois stood up. “Walk you to the gate?” She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept her voice breezy.
“Sure.” Clark smiled, that grin that warmed her like sunshine, and she knew she wouldn’t see it again for a long time. She shrugged her jacket on as she finished the last of her coffee and they walked in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts.
Curiously enough, Clark had trouble getting a ride to Metropolis Airport; everyone seemed to have an excuse. His mom had some meeting to attend, and Chloe said her dad needed her help with something, although Gabe had to be reminded, and no-one seemed to want to go into specifics. So, it fell to Lois. Expecting eye-rolling protests, Clark was about to say he’d call a cab, but instead, she shrugged her shoulders and said “Sure.” Which is when Martha said something weird.
“It’ll give you a chance to say goodbye.”
...“I’ll be so alone without you,
Maybe you’ll be lonesome, too…”
Clark knew Lois hated goodbyes of any kind. The plan had been to get out at the airport and give her an excuse to leave. Still, when they got there, the thought flashed across his mind; ‘I don’t want this to end.’ Before he knew it, he’d offered to get her a thank-you coffee for giving him a lift. She came along just to keep him company, he thought. She probably knew he didn’t want to sit there alone like a doofus.
Lois was not a fan of long goodbyes. The plan had been to drop him off at the airport and get away as quickly as possible, but somehow she ended up sitting in an airport coffee lounge talking his ear off about twentieth century pop music (one day, she WOULD convert him to Whitesnake). A thought had flashed across her mind; ‘I don’t want this to end.’
“I guess this is no big deal for you, huh?”
Lois shot a puzzled frown up at him.
“I mean, you’d been all over the world twice before you were eighteen, right?”
She could feel his excitement as they approached the gate, the adventure in front of him.
“You’re gonna love it. And you’d better write, Smallville, or I’ll catch a flight myself just to kick your a$$.”
The laugh Lois loved to hear, and it was going away. ‘Everyone leaves,’ she thought bitterly, then shook it off. She refused to make this about her. This trip was what he wanted.
Clark suddenly felt like he’d never laugh again. He looked down at the floor, hiding his eyes for a second. ‘She thinks I’m betraying her,’ he thought, his heart twisting at his selfishness. He dismissed that thought quickly, knowing she’d kill him for brooding.
IdontwannagoIdontwannaleaveyouplease willyouevenmissmewillyouwritemeback.
“Will you write me back, Lois?”
“Count on it.”
It was a poor substitute, but better than nothing. Really, she wanted to ask him when he was coming back. She knew it’d make them both uncomfortable.
“Well,…” Clark said.
“Yeah,…” Lois countered. So much for long goodbyes.
StaypleasedontleaveIdontwantyoutogo stayherewithmedontforgetmeIllmissyou.
“I’ll miss you, Clark.”
He let out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding. “I’ll miss you, too, Lois.”
They put their arms around each other. She pressed her cheek into his chest, holding him with her whole heart. He wrapped her up and gently rocked her, keeping this memory safe inside to carry with him. Neither wanted to say it, but both knew it had to be said.
“Goodbye.”
He turned at the gate to see her one last time, smiled and waved. She waved back, watching him disappear around the corner. And then, he was gone.
It wasn’t until the plane left the ground that Clark really felt it; the ache deep in his bones, the tearing grief of leaving behind all that he loved in this world, all that loved him. He’d never felt more alone in his life. He couldn’t bear to think of it, focusing instead on what lay ahead of him, the things he would learn, the man he hoped to become. When the time was right, he knew he would come home. There was too much of himself here to leave behind forever.
Lois didn’t watch his plane leave. She just got in her car and drove back to her cousin’s place. Chloe was out, the apartment was empty. She was fine. Until for some reason, while she was making coffee, she ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing until her chest ached. Then she stood up, washed her face with cold water and poured herself a coffee; no-one saw, and no-one knew. Her tears were like her secrets; she never gave them away.
“Except,” she smiled to herself “to perfect strangers.”
...“Fly the ocean in a silver plane,
See the jungle when it’s wet with rain,
Just remember ‘til you’re home again,
You belong to me....
You belong to me.”
Interlude: Azabache
…It wasn’t until the plane left the ground that Clark really felt it; the ache deep in his bones, the tearing grief of leaving behind all that he loved in this world, all that loved him. He’d never felt more alone in his life…
The last time he remembered feeling like this was after the second meteor storm, when the house was demolished. The family were tearing up everything that couldn’t be saved; a lot of personal effects were lost in the impact. Most of Clark’s room was now on the ground floor, or in the garden. He searched at superspeed first, then at normal speed, then painfully slowly one more time, but amongst the wreckage and burnt debris, there was no way of telling. The bracelet that Joseph Willowbrook had given him. A Kawache bracelet, bearing the symbol of Naman’s promised one, meant for Clark’s soulmate. He usually kept it in the loft, but that night, he’d been woken by a bad dream, and felt some strange urge to have it with him, as if looking for comfort before the storm he knew was coming.
He’d taken it from the loft and slept in the house with it, cold metal warmed by his skin. Next morning, he left it in his bedside cabinet while Lois was in the shower, and that was the last he saw of it. He considered asking her if she’d seen it, but it’d raise too many questions about why he owned it, why it was so important, all sorts of things he didn’t want to answer. He tried to put a brave face on it, say that the family had lost nothing but things in the storm, but he couldn’t help but see it as a message. The bracelet was a promise of a future love that was meant to be. And now it was gone, lost or destroyed.
‘Maybe the reason I lost the bracelet,’ thought Clark, as the nose of the plane tipped up into the air, ‘is because I’m meant to be alone…’
He couldn’t bear to think of it, focusing instead on what lay ahead of him, the things he would learn, the man he hoped to become…
…In the aftermath of the meteor storm, groups of volunteers were searching for the lost, the missing, the injured, and one such group went to the Kent Farm looking for a young man by the name of Jason Teague, on Mr Kent’s suggestion. One of the rescuers lifted aside a shattered bedside cabinet, the drawers crashing forlornly to the ground, and spilling out a silver-turquoise bracelet, ringing across the floor like a bell. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like costume jewellery, but Esperanza Ramirez thought it might be a traditional azabache, a blessing bracelet made to protect loved ones from harm through those envious of their beauty. To certain collectors, it might be quite valuable; Esperanza could use the money, and they would probably assume it was lost in the meteor storm. To her constant shame, she stole the bracelet, and sold it as soon as she got back to Granville the next day. Ever since then, she had feared the consequences of her actions…
…Lois didn’t watch his plane leave. She just got in her car and drove back to her cousin’s place. Chloe was out, the apartment was empty. She was fine. Until for some reason, while she was making coffee, she ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing until her chest ached…
…The next day, Lois left college early and headed out to the Daily Planet to see her cousin. What with her best friend leaving, Chloe naturally felt a little blue; she denied it, but Lois could tell. So, she bagged a few tickets to a gig by an about-to-break band, the Hold Steady, and was twisting her cousin’s arm to hit the town with her.
“I guess it’d be OK,” Chloe said, “since I miss Clark so much.”
She pulled that infuriating know-it-all smirk again that made Lois want to strangle her blue. ‘I love ya, cuz,’ she thought, ‘but sometimes, I just wanna staple your lips shut.’
“First thing we have to do,” said Chloe, “if we’re going out, we need new clothes. And that involves…” her eyes shone almost manically, “…shopping!” Lois groaned, only on the outside; she had never called herself a girly-girl, but quietly admitted to looking forward to some time with her cousin.
A few hours and a quick lunch later, the girls walked back to the car, hooked arm-in-arm and chattering good-natured nonsense. They had finally completed their mission; to find outfits that would make grown men faint at the sight of them. Lois stopped her cousin short at the mouth of a wide alley; an odd notion had taken her.
“The Boho quarter’s down this way, isn’t it?” asked Lois.
“The Big Apricot version of Greenwich Village? Yeah.”
“Wanna check it out, try something different?”
Chloe shrugged. “Sure,” she frowned a little, thinking it was an odd request.
It was like walking into a scene-beat from “That 70’s Show.” The stores were overflowing with gypsy skirts, tie-dye and incense burners. Lois was wide-eyed and smiling. “Wow, this place rocks SWWEEET.”
It figured Lois would be comfortable here, considering her ‘old school’ taste in music. “Oh, yeah. Very ashcan-chic, ” said Chloe, far less convinced, and even a little snobbish, Lois thought.
Lois’ eye was caught by something in one of the store windows, and she dragged her cousin over.
“What do you think?”
Chloe studied the object of Lois’ sudden affection. “Not really my style,” she said. It was a little too gothic for her taste.
“I think it’s cute and a little punky. It’d go perfectly with that little black thing you just bought.”
Chloe remained unconvinced, and even less so when she tilted her head and looked at the price tag, eyes widening. “With THAT many dead presidents on it, I’d HAVE to wear black.”
Lois bit her lip; she wasn't usually big on costume jewellery, but there was something about it. She went to the door.
“Oh, I see,” said Chloe, as they entered, “so you were trying to get me to buy it so you could borrow it…?
Not much later, Lois exited the store with her new favorite thing, turning her wrist in the light to admire it. Chloe shook her head. “An azabache? That woman must have 20/20 vision, because she saw you coming.”
“I like it,” Lois shrugged simply. The cuff looked Incan, or native American. It suited her taller frame; on Chloe and her ‘chicken wrists,’ it looked clunky, and the blonde was a little pale to carry off the silver finish, which suited Lois’ slightly duskier complexion well. The diamond shaped stone setting of polished turquoise made an eye-catching centerpiece, too. Chloe had to admit, it just looked better on Lois than it had on her.
“So,” said Lois, “ready to set the roof on fire?”
Chloe smiled and linked her cousin’s arm again, happy to be by her side. “Burn, baby, burn.”
They walked towards the car, and whatever adventures lay ahead of them.
What do you mean? I've already posted these stories. They're precursors to my others.
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