Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot line I've typed. I hope you enjoy!

Alright, I wanted to let you all know this is an updated Chapter 1. I re-read it and had to fix quite a bit that just annoyed me. I hope I smoothed out how a few things were written in addition to how the structure of the chapter is laid out, should be a bit easier to read!

Proximity: Chapter 1

“Clack, clack, clack, clack” echoed up the empty stairwell. Clammy palms pushed against the hefty weight of the icy door to the rooftop. Worn hinges groaned in protest as it finally swung open.

“Go figure. All these years and they can’t spring to fix that…cheap bastards.” the woman grumbled to a startled pigeon. A gust of wind sent the chilling air through Lois’s thin beige blouse. Immediately, her thoughts descended to the bustling newsroom below where she had left her jacket. Nerves began to ease and loosen the knot in her stomach.

Her heels struck soundly on the cold rooftop tiles as she wandered toward the limestone ledge hefting out a long sigh as her fists dove into the skirt pockets.

“No way in hell am I quitting now. Not after all this.”

Her hands found what they were looking for and retrieved a copper lighter along with a fresh package of cigarettes. After the pack was ripped open her slender fingers slowly rolled a cigarette between them releasing a sweet warm scent of unsmoked tobacco. The evening air was calm and crisp. A gentle draft floated upward and with it carried the distant sounds of the traffic-choked streets below.
“Click”

A small plume of smoke began to curl and mingle with a slight updraft as her eyes closed in synch with a long exhale of smoke.

“Maybe next week I’ll go back to the patch” she stated as if feeling the need to justify herself to no one in particular.

Each drag eased some of the tension that had formed into a ball of lead in the pit of her stomach. Her mind drifted to a conversation early this morning.

“This is ridiculous. I’d rather be at home with a gin and tonic feeling lousy instead of being paraded in front of the rest of the staff like a show dog.” She growled at Perry, who’s eyes sparkled at the irony of her choice of descriptions. “This is tacky and wrong, you know better. Wait, maybe you don’t. I think you‘re a ham in editor’s clothing.”

Perry glanced up from the recent edition awaiting his final inspection to print and coolly replied “Finished? Because I’m your Editor and Chief and I say you’re going. End. Of. Story kid.”

A partially chewed cigar returned to the silver haired editor's mouth. Unphased, he resumed filtering through messages and articles awaiting his approval that littered his large desk.

“This is not the way I should win” she bit back. “You and I both know it was from shock value I won. I’ve written far better articles than that. More than I can count during the first and second Iraq war! Don’t even get me started on the whole Southern Delta Water scandal responsible for President Chesterton’s impeachment” she spat.

The old man’s worn brow remained furrowed as he sighed, flipped a page and remained focused on the articles at hand instead of the fuming reporter that paced in front of his desk. Half of his prized reporting team could be so dramatic. Tomorrow she’ll be ranting about something else. Kiddo needs to cool her jets. Sometimes my girl could learn a thing or two from Kent. Spelling should be one of them.

Simply because he was editor and chief did not mean Perry White was the alpha and omega of the paper despite everyone’s opinion. He had shareholders and a CEO every bit as fiery as himself to answer to. They respected and generally granted his opinion supremacy, but wanted cohesiveness, so be damned, cohesiveness is what they shall get. Throw a little booze and cake in front of folks and they’re best friends. It’s not every day he was able to flaunt a Pulitzer prize winning journalist. Often times Lane had been so close even he himself had salivated over the prospects and near misses.

“Everyone is thrilled, shareholders included Lois, that The Planet is getting more recognition than The Times or The Post. They want to celebrate. Loueen has been dealing with the rest of the staff all week to plan it. Besides, everyone likes cake.” He paused and sipped his coffee. “You’re going. Put on a happy face and enjoy it. You finally got a Pulitzer so relax and soak up the attention Lois, you haven’t exactly been known to shy from fame and glory before. You and I both know that’s not your style.”

Crap, no way out. One night with her colleagues. Most of them would be green with envy; a definite potential benefit to the evening that might make it bearable. However it was a night of pats on the back for something she just wished would go away. Lois spun around on her heel, sprinted out of Perry White’s office as the door rattled in it’s frame. She flopped into a well-abused chair at her paper-strewn desk. The pair of hazel eyes that belonged to the chair’s occupant scanned over to an empty office across a sea of other reporter’s stations. So much for moral support.

High stacks of mail sat in piles on Richard White’s vacant desk. A commonplace indicator of another prolonged absence in Europe. The ever important conflicts overseas that demanded the full attention of the international editor had become more frequent and extensive in duration since their most recent chain of traumatic events six months ago.

Lois’s visitation of Superman in Metropolis General was proof positive of a wedge being driven between herself and her fiancé. Things between the couple were strained but they remained together but the growing disconnect had become more apparent in the recent months. Lois’s eyes blinked with a vacant look as thoughts of warm memories between herself and Richard. Hmph, those were certainly a thing of the past. The elephant in the room had grown more oppressive. It simply became easier to function as a team or partnership rather than confirm the end an already dead relationship. Even his presence would have been a welcome respite at this point and a pleasant distraction from the impending evening that rapidly approached.

Jason was conspicuously absent recently due to his first week long trip to Grandma Lane’s house for fall break. Not even her son was there to offer an escape from the dreaded celebration. The visit to her mother’s silenced Ella’s mounting requests and guilt-trips that not enough time was spent with her grandson. No diversions or convenient excuses of babysitters cancelling, vomiting in class or calls from the school nurse. Speaking of convenient excuses, where was the master himself?

Clark had been noticeably absent for the past hour. She narrowed her eyes into slits. Hmm. Better not be off on a lead he chose not to tell me of…again. Although a sneaking suspicion was beginning to mount that perhaps he had been drafted into something that had to do with this evening’s party.

Resigned to the plain fact there was no escaping later, her long fingers began to rapidly flip through a well worn notepad. Roughly scribbled press conference notes from earlier in the day regarded the reconstruction in Metropolis following the earthquake as stalled with bureaucratic red tape. Ah, got to love the idiots in office. Always a guarantee for a juicy story. Amazing city hall ever gets anything important completed. Better get back to writing that next Pulitzer winning article for something of substance that one could actually be proud of.

Lois’s well chewed nails drummed rhythmically along the ledge as the worn reporter leaned against it. Her eyes vacantly drifted across the city lights that came on along the crowded horizon as the sky itself had grown dark with nightfall. With the cigarette finished, remnants of smoke dissipated as did her thoughts from earlier. Her cell phone that had been fished out rested on the ledge along the package of cigarettes. There was only one person she could talk to and not face ridicule. Her sister, Lucy. The familiar number was punched without thought and the ringing phone echoed in Lois’s ear. Why do I feel so guilty over something I’ve earned?

“Hi! Lucy here, well not really since I’m not answering my phone but…leave a message and I’ll-” The phone slapped shut and was shoved back into her pocket. Out of all the nights for her sister to have date night. I’ve worked hard, spent many sleepless nights up to my elbows in notes, hunched over the computer. Why does it feel as if I’ve been sucker punched in the gut?

Her eyes flashed back to months ago in the dark frigid water grasping desperately at the edge of his red cape, pulling and kicking toward the light rippling surface while lungs blazed, screaming for a breath. The burn of salt water caused her to blink rapidly and push out the stinging sensation in her eyes as she uncontrollably gasped. Her aching legs tread the choppy water threatened to give way. Glaring cramps from the build-up of lactic acid in her calves had given her warning of fatigue.

Keep going, almost to the plane. “I‘m not going to let you go, I can‘t. Not again” she gasped as Richard dove into the black water and guided them to the seaplane. On the hard rattling floor of the plane, her icy hands shook uncontrollably when palpating her former lover’s side as a jagged stone pricked her fingertips. She had to get it out.

I can’t let him die. “Don’t you dare leave me…I need you. Stay, I know I we can do better than this.” She whispered under the roar of the seaplane’s engines. She had willed herself to remove the large sheath of kryptonite embedded into intercostal muscle between his ribs.

Lois blinked back tears that began to build in her eyes as the recollection came into sharp focus. The wrenching scream of pure agony that escaped from his lungs was something she had never heard before. Never had she seen him so broken, so…human.

His brilliant blue eyes flew open in pain as she had felt the shard of rock suddenly release from his side. It had been covered with so much blood, his blood that had begun to trickle down her arm. Her other hand attempted to sooth the wounded man by stroking the wet hair from his forehead as his eyes gazed upon her shivering figure. The blood stained hand rested lightly on his chest on top of the red and yellow crest . The intimate gesture of love had replaced all words and both of them knew their souls had always had been connected.

A shudder she felt to her bones now as the empty echoes of congratulations resounded in her head and gnawed at her conscience. At that moment…she knew she was wrong. Oh, so wrong about many things she was sure of. Jason’s real father, her relationship with Richard, remaining resentment toward the Man of Steel…all of it. A feeling that had been eating away at her since his return and her visit in the hospital. My God how I love him. The weight of their reality caused her head to shake in frustration. What a mess.

The worn fork rested on the nearly full plate in a noisy diner. Sunlight from the nearby window glinted off the water glass on the table and danced in the strands of Lois’s straight thick chestnut hair as cars passed by. After a lull in conversation regarding the press conference they were at earlier, Clark’s sudden statement gave her a start.

“Gosh Lois, thanks for asking me to lunch. I, I mean, I’m glad to finally talk to you since I’ve been back...Not that we haven’t talked at work or anything, but, well you know.” His voice calmed her frayed nerves in a way no one else had. Maybe it was the incessant rambling, the lilt, timbre or perhaps the simple history…their history.

It was their history of late nights, hours in musty city record books, close scrapes with their foes, how she missed it. It had been difficult to accept a partner but as much as she was reluctant to admit, after Clark left, she hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed having one. When she saw him in the buzzing newsroom after the shuttle disaster, her heart leapt in excitement. A little. All the regret of lost years with her gentle quirky partner hit her. It finally felt as if a missing piece of herself fit again. She was recharged with the thrill of the hunt on a blood sport competition for juicy articles, she could smile again. One smile, in fact, started to creep across her face as Clark spoke in his characteristic rambling fashion. Some things don’t change thank goodness.

“Clark, I missed us…all of it. I’m glad your back. I had never wanted a partner in the first place you know.”

“Yeah, noticed that from my first day. Remember the soda that ended up all over my pants?” Lois blushed in mild embarrassment at his remark. No one else would have noticed the flinch. He noticed everything. “I guess Chief knew what he was doing” Clark mused as he tore off another bite from his burger. Mustard escaped from the bottom and landed squarely on his tie. His blue eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling. “Great. Just-”

“Typical of you Clark.” Lois interjected. “Here, let me. I’ve learned some masterful stain removing techniques with a five year-old. Clark! Stop. You’re just going to rub it in deeper. Give it to me.” She yanked the brown and blue striped tie from his hands leaving a wide eyed Clark Kent frozen. His brilliant blue eyes pierced through the black rims of his glasses that slipped down his nose.

“Um, thanks.” He nervously placed his suddenly free hands on the vinyl seat.

She was so close to him. After all the commotion of Luthor’s most recent encounter with them both, shuttle disaster and awkward flight following his return he had not been in this close of proximity to her. It was intoxicating. Her hands slid up his tie to loosen and undo the knot. Her gentle scent drifted into his nose and reflexively caused his heart to pound against his sternum so forcefully, he was certain she could feel it as her arm brushed against his shirt.

Her graceful fingers were so close to his face, brushing around the nape of his neck and hairline. The shiver this simple gesture caused, went through him and the man of steel was spellbound. Frozen and completely enamored with Lois so close to him. Her tough as nails exterior had evaporated and the Lois he knew, his Lois sat next to him. Her hands touched his neck along the shirt collar, loosening his tie while the other hand slipped beneath to undo the top button. Whoa! Clark’s hands flew up from the seat and covered hers.

“Here, it’s ok. Let me do it” he managed a wobbly grin in her direction. “Don’t want to be starting any rumors for the office gossip mongers.”

A pair of large hands engulfed hers around his shirt collar giving her pause to marvel at their warmth and the inexplicable electricity that tingled in her fingertips. It sizzled through her spine. Hmm. Awkward. Since when did Kent have that kind of touch. Why did it feel so comforting and familiar to have her hands in his? Not like I’ve ever been there done that. He was and always has been practically a brother to me. She blinked the thought away as he handed the mustard laden tie to her.

“So, Clark.” she stated mater of factly as the tie was blotted with a stain pen. “I’ve got a problem. I hate to admit this to anyone, but, well, you. For some reason.”

Her puzzled co-worker blinked silently as his eyes blazed a shocking blue through his thick black frames at her. He waited expectantly for her to proceed. If there was one thing he knew about Lois, it was how to get something genuine from underneath the fierce armor. He had to wait for it.

“You know my instincts have never steered me wrong before. Well, pretty much most of the time.” Ah yes, Lois Lane's confidence. Some things remain the same. “Since being wrong isn’t something I have much practice at… I guess what I’m trying to say, is I need to apologize...” she looked down at the tie, slid it across the table to it’s owner and she proceeded “to someone.” The fork twirled on her plate and began to push around the cold remnants of lunch. “I don’t really know how. Never exactly been my strong suit.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“What?” She snapped her head up.

“Never mind…Sorry.”

Her face softened and returned the fork to it’s plate. Mid-day traffic of the lunch hour crawled past the window as many Metropolitans began to make their way back to offices in the busy financial canyon of the Central Business District in the New Troy borough of Metropolis. Shadows began to form along the impressive stone and steel buildings indicating that the noon hour had passed. Lois’s eyes had followed the gleaming structures through the dirty window to the vibrant blue sky. They began to mist over as she ran her fingers through her long hair. Pulling it away from her face, she sighed. Her eyes searched the sky for the person in need of the apology she had referenced. The usually observant reporter ironically remained oblivious to the present situation. The close proximity to the Man of Steel who was in fact, sitting directly in front of her.

Clark was definitely curious what had brought out the rare remorseful and contemplative Lois Lane that he himself had only witnessed a handful of times in both personas.

“Well I’ve always figured, just go ahead and apologize” he replied slowly. “Before it becomes too difficult and eats away at you” his voice grew uncharacteristically deeper with the words that were spoken.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience. Which surprises me that you ever have trouble apologizing since you practically have made a sport of it, every other sentence and enough for the both of us.” she mused.

“What’s eating at you?” Clark wondered aloud. Lois never apologized. To anyone. Ever.

“Writer’s remorse” was all she could utter.

His direct confrontation to the heart of the matter surprised Lois, it was something he rarely did but was never off the mark when he chose to do so. She glanced around the room, stood up to pay for the meal and begin the short walk back to The Planet. “I wrote an article awhile ago and now I wish I hadn’t.”

The glass door swung open, the flood of street noise filled the diner as the two strode through, walking at a brisk pace. Perry would certainly “have their hides” as he would say, if they were late. Again. Must have been one hell of a piece, Clark thought to himself. Lois loved ripping open the soft underbelly of a story and took no prisoners. Her aggressive pursuits over the years must have caught up with her, something in one of her stories must have finally struck a nerve.

“I’ve received a lot of attention for it” she sighed. “ I just wish I'd never written it.”

Clark’s stomach lurched before it plummeted to the floor. He knew exactly which article she referenced. What rattled him to his core, was that Lois cared. She cared. Beyond her tough exterior that everyone at The Planet knew and feared, he knew her differently. Many experiences they shared made him certain he knew this tough woman better than almost anyone else. After he had been pulled from the water, on the seaplane was when her cold affront began to unravel.

The searing agony from the kryptonite sheath Luthor had plunged into his side had intensified to a wrenching pain he had never experienced to that extent. Prior to the cathartic release of the visceral pain as Lois had ripped it from his ribcage, he had thought his death was eminent. At the sudden relief, his eyes had flown open only to observe a familiar pair of terrified hazel eyes looking directly back. With sheer exhaustion that overtook him, it was almost been too much for him to move or speak; only to rivet his eyes to hers.

“How did you find me?” was all he had been able to say.

Richard’s incredible selfless courage to rescue the hero deserved more justice and dignity than his selfish profession of love and admiration for the woman before him. Especially since Jason was in a nearby passenger seat witnessing the event unfold. Her wordless return of compassion in the gentle caress of her blood-stained fingers along his brow and chest spoke plainly of her simple love for him.

Clark quickened his pace to catch stride with the woman in front of him. The amazing woman, who will never know she had saved his life.

“Lois” he said loudly and with a certain ring that gave her visible pause.

Realizing his emotions had begun to get the better of himself and near fatal mistake, he cleared his throat while nervously pushing the thick glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Are we talking about your Pulitzer?”

She turned to face him directly and blinked, looking at Clark with a haunted expression that faded as quickly as it had flashed upon her face. She looked down distractedly at her watch, suddenly resuming her rapid pace along the crowded Metropolis sidewalks. Pay dirt.

Clark knew the silent treatment from Lois was a result of three things: one was white hot anger, two was when she was in a state of complete awe and disbelief, three was her version of accepting fault. That was as close to a sincere apology as most people received. He silently berated himself for thinking she would just spill her guts to himself.

The quick stride of her lean legs caused a cascade of hair to flow behind her and mesmerized her male counterpart. His heart ached; she really had no idea how much her mere presence captivated him in either persona. At least as Clark, her anger rippling beneath the surface of Superman’s return was rarely aimed in his direction.

Returning to work with her engaged to another man had been difficult to say the least. It became even more so, as time elapsed and he had begun to know Richard as a colleague and friend. The situation was complicated by the undeniable fact that Richard had been nothing but a genuine person of moral character whom Clark could not dislike. To be honest, Clark would have chosen Richard to take his place in Lois’s life if he had known he would not have been able to return. His head shook, what a mess.

With a swish of the elevator doors closing, Lois and Clark ascended to the 35th floor in silence. It was uncomfortable at that. The whir of the cables lifting the car was deafening amidst the silence between the partners. Gosh she smelled good. He really hated elevator rides alone with her. Due to his keen sense of smell, her scent in close proximity often triggered memories of stolen moments from years ago. The way her skin felt beneath his fingers as they had trailed up her thigh, her soft lips upon his the way she caused him to sharply inhale with pleasure when she ran her hands underneath his shirt- "DING."

“Are you coming after work? She suddenly offered.

“Hmm? To what?” The elevator and Lois’s question snapped him out of an old memory into present time. The roar of the bullpen pressed upon them when the doors flung open.

“Oh you know,” Lois waved a hand in the air as she stepped off the car into the bustling office. “Perry’s informal Pulitzer award ceremony for yours truly. Personally I’d rather be back on that 777 going down in flames, but you know the burdens of being an award winning writer. Oh, wait. You don’t.”

It was far to much fun to watch Clark squirm when she rubbed in her award winning journalist credentials. May as well get some entertainment out of it. A false grin flashed across her face. No way was she going to let anyone else but Perry White know how difficult the impending evening truly was, especially her old partner. Lois had not become a famed journalist for lack of intuition and she was fully cognizant that Clark was aware he reopened a wound. If he lacked perception and intelligence, it would not have been possible for Clark to have clipped at her heels as her closest strong competition for articles and accolades.

“Chief is so thrilled I’ve finally won he keeps insisting now I cool my jets.”

“She had better.” Perry’s deep voice boomed over the characteristic bullpen roar. His loud voice caused a few fresh faces to turn in his direction. “Especially since you gave Superman such a public kiss-off. Count your lucky stars he saved your fanny on that boat. I doubt he’d do it again since he’s probably had time since then to read your article that ripped him a new one.”

Lois’s expression remained unchanged despite the spike in her heart rate in response to Perry’s sharp comment. Her only reply was a swift about face and stone silence. The large graying editor ignored her response.

“C’mon kids, tell me what you two have on the progress they’re supposedly making on rebuilding the ports. Kent! What are the numbers Metropolis is bleeding in lost shipping revenue that Gotham soaked up?”

Perry waved his arm in a sweeping gesture in Clark’s general direction beckoning into his office. The editor invited the doomed reporter into his office for a personal up close berating. The tall reporter visibly shrunk a few inches, gulped, shot a look at Lois that screamed “why me?” and hurried into Perry White’s office. Incidentally his shin banged on a desk and tripped over a stray box of printer paper. The owner of the desk grumbled obscenities in his direction, clearly meant for him to hear. This was going to be a long afternoon he thought to himself, as Lois’s stifled laughter was audible as door to Perry’s office closed.

Lois had been pounding away at her keyboard in an attempt to divert any feelings of unease for the rapidly approaching dreaded office celebration. The corner of her eye usually picked up Kent’s blazing eyes intermittently catching admiring glances, but they uncharacteristically were absent. That in itself was off. Instead she only saw the top of his head as he bent over his computer feverishly typing up the shipping revenue article before deadline.

“So, Kent, you coming tonight?” She attempted to feign nonchalance while shoving tattered remains of manila folders into a file cabinet. A long pause was filled with daily white noise of keyboards and telephones in the office. Lois shut off her computer and glanced in his direction when he did not provide a response. “Clark. Are you coming?”

“Hmm. Oh, no I don’t think I can. I have plans.” he stated definitively. The shock of Clark Kent having other plans gave Lois pause. Since when did this guy have a life outside their jobs? She certainly didn’t have much of one. “Really I can’t. I have something I have to take care of.”

Lois looked and absent-mindedly began to pick at her nail cuticles. Pure rejection read across her features. She attempted to brush away the visible disappointment.

“You mean it? C’mon can’t be jealous and be a no show just because I have a Pulitzer and you don’t” she laughed. Rejected. Surprise!

With that, Clark pushed up his glasses and reached behind himself for a large beige trench coat.

“No. Lois you know better,” he said softly with a serious tone and uncharacteristic dark expression. “I can’t always be there for you. I wish I could. Things…sometimes get in the way.” He sighed as the words escaped him slowly.

With a shrug of his broad shoulders, he slipped the coat over them and looked down. He had chosen his words carefully. He couldn’t look at her sometimes. It was the helpless shocked look he had first seen from her when he had caught her from the helicopter fall all those years ago that made both of them famous. Sometimes the memories etched in his mind hurt too much.

He still loved her. He had known it the first moment he saw her again. It was also quite clear the feeling that seemed mutual since the hospital visit had been quickly pushed aside to maintain a safe and solid relationship with a great man who had taken his place in his absence. It was only fair. He was not going to be one to intervene in a serious relationship; she was engaged. That’s just how things were. Not as he had planned, but when exactly did life go according to plan? Jason certainly had not been in the plans. That was another issue altogether.

Lois quickly made her way to his side and startled him with how near in proximity she had become. “Clark, come anyway” she pleaded. “I really want you to come. You’re my partner.” She practically stood on top of his shoes. Not that he minded.

“Maybe.”

Lois reached for him as he began to fasten the buttons of his coat and felt a shiver as her fingertips brushed over the back of his hand.

“Please try.”

The pair of reporters locked eyes at the touch they both felt. What was happening? My best friend actually said no. What does he have to do anyway, organize his stamp collection? The reply had been so unexpected she almost fell over where she had stood. The contact of their hands had been reflexive, as if a simple touch would keep him anchored to the floorboards. Yeah, that had worked so well in the past for a previous man in her life. He took off for five years.

“Clark, I need you here. It won’t be the same without you.” The tall man in front of her shifted backward causing her hand to slip from his, spell broken as he retreated toward the elevators.

Lois sharply inhaled the cool evening air and squinted to make out her darkened watch face. She had been on her best behavior for two hours until this point, was fed up and had enough. To hell with everyone, she was not going back down there. Not sober at least, not without a fight as a small flask of Maker’s Mark was retrieved. The metal gleamed in the low light of The Planet’s globe as the flask hit her lips with a quick tilt backward. The strong liquid was quickly gulped down as it’s remnants left a warm comforting burn trickling down her throat. She paused, held it to her lips again before another drink.

“Well, Lane, this is a personal best” she whispered before tipping the cold flask back again. She felt like shit. No beating around the bush. Guilty, guilty, guilty. The award that had been a career long aspiration had come from the harshest backlash toward the most undeserving soul. How many times has he saved me? I’ve lost count. Some friend I've turned out to be.

The bourbon sloshed against its steel container. Steel…how fitting. Oh hell, who was she fooling? She loved him, always had. That had been apparent to everyone except herself. His eyes held nothing but kindness and respect for her. She had seen it countless times since his return. Not that she deserved it recently.

Another gust of wind tossed her hair and cut into her skin as she crossed her arms and shivered. Shame overtook her eyes and began to glisten with tears as they looked up to the now dark sky. She knew Superman would not be there, but had hoped anyway she might have been mistaken. A few strong stars bright enough to survive the choking city lights shone back at her.

Never before had feelings been so strong of complete isolation than at that moment. Even her best friend Clark, her partner who had been ever-present was absent at the party. That hurt. She didn’t know why nor expect to feel so rejected. The initial brush-off since he came back from his trip? Clark couldn’t be jealous of Richard, especially recently.

Things with Richard hadn’t exactly been a storybook romance since Superman had returned. Her visit to him in the hospital seemed to have cemented the beginning of the end. Lois and Richard had made efforts at the office to keep up appearances of a happy relationship. Certainly gossip had been running rampant with suspicions of discontent between herself and the international editor. Surely everyone, including Clark had noticed. Clark, oh of all people why would I care what he thinks?

Richard’s wounded knowing look in the car that day had spoken what words could not. Over the past six months, their relationship had deteriorated to nothing more than companionship and a sense of duty on account of “their” son Jason. Ha, wouldn’t that be a surprise? Another fun topic for discussion I’m just dying to delve into. “Ugh” a grunt escaped while a rather cold nose scrunched in disgust at her thoughts. Screw it, I’m here, already drinking. Why not continue my self destructive behavior? Her hands traded the flask in her pocket for the opened cigarettes and worn copper familiar flame danced atop the lighter with a flick of her fingers. A loud slam of the door jolted the lighter from her hand and sent it scattering across the roof. The annoyed smoker turned toward the door to see who had disrupted the pity party. A tall familiar outline stood near the door. Her icy hands retrieved the lighter as she kept her eyes fixed and affect flat despite the internal surge of relief she felt.

"Lois, you know you shouldn't smoke."

“Click.”

The flame was rekindled and she lit another cigarette.

“I’m aware. You and what army are going to stop me?” A fresh plume of smoke rose.

“Well, you know what they say…cancer, wrinkles, decreased lung capacity, your alveoli sacs filling up with tar, yellow fingernails, that and the new mayor just passed that cigarette tax so it’s got to be expensive...”

“Stuff it Kent” she exhaled as the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Thanks for the public service announcement.”

“I just never understood the allure.”

“No. I don’t suppose you would. It happens to be stress relieving. You can thank these babies for saving your life on a few accounts” she paused to pat the pocket on her hip containing the pack. “If it weren’t for them on a few late night stake-outs or research nights, you probably would have made the news as a murder report.”

“Yeah, probably from second hand smoke inhalation” he quickly bit back as he remained deadpanned.

“Keep it up, and there’s still hope for you yet to be fished out of Hobs Bay by daybreak.”

Even in the darkness, the glow from the city lights and globe etched out their features from the night sky. His smart reply briefly had stunned the cunning reporter’s sharp tongue. Since when was Clark so quick with the comebacks? Maybe he had always been, except perhaps she had been so self-absorbed she hadn’t noticed while chasing the elusive Pulitzer. A slender brown heel-clad foot ground out the half finished cigarette.

“Clark? Thanks.” More silence except the whir of the traffic below and the mechanics of the rotating Daily Planet globe in the backdrop.

“For what?” A look of genuine confusion played across his features. Kind of cute.

“For coming when I needed you.” She said plainly. Her eyes followed Clark’s gaze out over the city. “I don’t want to go back down there.”

“Lois, I don’t understand. You have been after this since the day I met you. In fact you’ve risked your neck and mine more times than I can count, you finally got what you wanted. Why are you avoiding it?”

At that remark her eyes searched the horizon. The building lights twinkled in the atmosphere against the sharp contrast of Hobs Bay’s inky black waters to the east. Clark wondered if her eyes were searching for an answer to his probing question or for his heroic counterpart. He removed his coat and quietly approached the visibly cold woman who intermittently shivered.

The sudden radiant warmth from the coat and weight of it on her shoulders caught her by surprise. Her gut response would have been to proudly shrug it off, but in this instance, was too cold, too worn down and accepted it readily. The coat had been amazingly warm, as if it had been stored in a radiator room. Ether that , or it was a sure indication she’d been out on this rooftop too long. The coat was drawn around her neck and briefly closed her eyes in silent gratitude before turning to face the broad shouldered man who had offered it without being asked. He had never been asked. Clark always just simply had been there, somehow knew what was needed and gave without question or complaint.

The faint and seemingly achingly familiar scent of aftershave lingered on the collar and tingled in her nose as she inhaled. Something else so comforting and hauntingly familiar about the smell triggered an unnerving sense of déjà vu.

The pair of hazel eyes before Clark were unreadable before they elapsed into a simple glimmer of gratitude.

“Thanks for the coat. I guess I’d been wandering around out here longer than I thought.”

“No, you mean hiding.” The twinkling eyes in front of him rolled at his truthful correction before fixing directly on his features. If she had his heat vision at this moment he would have been toast for sure.

“Hiding.” She reluctantly agreed with a subtle head nod. “From an unnecessary party, of which I am not returning....Remember?”

“Lois” was uttered softly before proceeding “you’re not answering my question.”

Damn. Few people could press her with a line of questions she couldn’t wiggle out of; her mother’s and the man in front of her. For some reason, Richard’s were easy to divert but Clark’s reporter skills often matched those of her own and inquiries were equally as difficult to avoid. Despite her tough pit bull exterior, Clark had managed to pry underneath it years ago. At that thought, her shoulders slumped and façade eroded along with her steel resolve. Why bother, this man knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I hate that. I forgot that annoying trait of his.

“It’s salt in the wound.” she whispered.

The broad man remained soundly in front of his visibly fragile counterpart, placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and silently waited for further explanation. Clark who fully comprehended the weight of her statement held his breath at her remark. He still resonated with some significance in this amazing woman.

He had always contemplated the reason behind Lois’s actions when she had saved his life and visited him in the hospital to confess Jason’s true lineage. The uncertainty mere of warm regard to their past or renewed hope for their future as motive. The extremely public accolades of her scathing article and frequent heralds in front of himself had indeed, been salt in the wound. He had been unaware that the feeling was mutual.

It had certainly burned every time Lois and Richard shared intimate gestures. A brush of fingertips at the back of the neck, resting a hand over hand while reading upcoming articles for error. However, they had become less frequent recently. He had noticed but had written it off as fatigue and stress of the job they both shared with their joint employer.

He had held true to a self imposed promise. He would not pursue what had once been a special and once in a lifetime relationship between them, despite the ache that was always present when she was near. So many memories were etched in his mind from years ago. The feel of her touch to the nape of his neck, uncanny ability to strip both suits from him in minute amounts of time, the incredible passion that had been earth shattering between them and extremely intimate knowledge of his true identity that they jointly held for a brief time.

He had vowed to remain her steadfast friend and partner, to provide support as a true friend should. That component was proving too difficult tonight. He just could not bear to be near her while donning his cheerful Clark persona, to support his partner’s journalistic achievement for “Why the World Doesn’t Need Superman.” Curiosity had gotten the better of him when she had appeared crestfallen at his announcement that he would not be present.

He had felt remorse at her reaction but as Superman, had been conveniently distracted by a failing levee near St. Louis on the swollen Mississippi River from recent heavy rains in Iowa, Illinois and Missouri. Until ten minutes ago his mind had been focused acutely on keeping the levee intact to prevent the St. Louis downtown, riverfront and surrounding neighborhoods from catastrophic floods. Doing the right thing was not always an easy black and white situation. It wasn’t easy to return to The Planet tonight to be there for Lois despite how difficult it was for him personally. It was also proving achingly challenging to stand near her with his hands on her shoulders and not draw her in or touch her face.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s salt in the...you know what I mean” was uttered through clenched teeth.

“No, I don’t quite follow how winning an award would leave you with a guilty conscience…that’s it, right?”

“Maybe” she huffed, as both arms crossed her chest. The Lois Lane defense shield back on the rise as her hazel eyes glared at Clark.

Something was behind those eyes. He kept picking away at it. Perhaps this is how he gets his sources to crack. Pick, pick, pick…which apparently what she was doing to the cuticles of her nail beds. If nothing were to scream “Guilty! You got me! Busted!” that would be it. The eyes blinked and her entire body heaved.

“Yes Clark, I do. I feel awful. I wrote it awhile ago. The intent was to help motivate our society as a whole. We had been self sufficient before Superman and had been reduced to a group of helpless morons incapable of saving ourselves after he left. I mean, sometimes the outcomes of disasters were lives lost, but the human spirit and American pride had persevered. When everyone realized Superman had disappeared we reacted like having the wind knocked out of us. We forgot how to rely on ourselves to solve the simplest of problems.”

Lois paused to turn away and place her palms on the limestone ledge, looked over the dark horizon and calmly continued. “The article may have had a bit too personal of a touch to it. I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t left completely devastated when he was gone.”

“That seemed perfectly clear in your article Lo-”

“Yes I know that,” she snapped. “A journalistic sin splashing your heart and soul across the pages, but I did it.” she interjected.

“I can understand how it’s difficult to keep emotions out of work sometimes.”

“You’re kidding. This coming from mister vanilla.” His shoulders shrugged at her remark before he responded.

“You haven’t told Superman any of your thoughts on this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t exactly have his phone number, in fact I’m quite sure he doesn’t have one.”

“You know that’s not what I meant” he pressed.

“Oh, you know me” she sniffed. “I’m good at a lot of things but apologizing isn’t one of them.” Her hand rose from the ledge and quickly wiped away a stray tear. “It’s eating away at me. There, satisfied?” The hum of traffic below filled the silence between them.

“I don’t know what to say.” he mumbled.

Clark’s hands drifted around her waist to close the coat around her shivering form and the space between them. A chill from her statement and close proximity ricocheted through his spine, the significance of the double edge the words possessed resonated. He had said those words to her years before, her response had been “Just say that you love me.” Not that she had remembered it. If only her response could be so simple. She was apologizing to him, just, well not exactly to him. Things were so complicated sometimes when leading two lives.

The sudden presence of Clark’s hands on her waist from behind was an extremely intimate gesture, especially when it came from her shy co-worker. If anyone else had attempted it, an arm lock and visit to the emergency room would have been the result. An odd sensation of comfort and familiarity enveloped her. His hands on her waist felt as if they had been there before…many times and fit onto her hips as if they were meant to rest there.

Her form remained frozen, hypnotized by the strange pleasurable sensation of…Clark Kent…of all people amid his ability to resonate into every fiber of her being. His near proximity heated the chilly autumn air between them. No one caused such emotions to stir with goose bumps rippling across her skin. No one from this planet anyway. Her eyes closed to force tears from splashing down her face. Do not cry, do not cry. Bad enough I just spilled my guts. Keeping them tightly shut was the only way to keep the waterworks at bay.

“Thanks...for listening.” The wind flicked a stray piece of hair in front of her face. Annoyed, she swatted at it and slowly shifted backward, against him.

With the subtle shift and her back pressed firmly against him caused Clark to inhale sharply. Certainly she had felt that. A lump rose in his throat, maybe guilt. He knew placing his hands on her had been wrong and failed the promise he made to not touch her. I should pull away. She’s engaged, not to me. His inner thoughts did not relay the message to his feet, which remained firmly in place.

His hand slowly drifted to her face and traced along her hairline to tuck the haphazard piece of hair behind her ear. It came to rest on her shoulder momentarily before he removed it to brush the hair off her face. Clark lifted his eyes to the city lights glittering in the atmosphere. Her indirect apology meant a great deal to him. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to hold her close and drift upward into the sky toward the stars above.

“You have to tell him you know.”

“Yes, I guess I should” she muttered. “I just don’t know how to apologize.” Clark’s stomach began to churn with nerves. His hand had slipped the thick frames off his face and held them loosely between his fingertips. He knew what he had to do.

“I think it will work itself out. Sometimes you don’t need to say anything.”

“Sometimes they do Clark. But you know what? Lately they have not.” The tone and her voice began to rise. “I’ve been kidnapped along with my Son, my car stolen, I nearly lost the man I love at the hands of a psychotic maniac while discovering Jason is not Richard’s son. How about that for a crappy day?” Her voice began to wobble.

“I didn’t ...Jason isn’t Richard’s? Gosh, I don't know what to say. That must have been difficult to talk about, especially after you almost lost Richard, he’s a good man.” Lois was stone silent, which was never a good thing.

“I’m not talking about Richard.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t love him Clark” she stated flatly. “He knows that. We barely speak to each other. Why Richard hasn’t ended the relationship is beyond my comprehension. I can only surmise he thinks it’s in Jason’s best interest. Once he gets back from Rome, that revelation about Jason’s parentage will probably make severing ties easier huh? If he doesn’t end it, I will.” The confession hung with finality in her statement. “There’s a lot of talking I need to do” she sighed. “With Richard I…” her voice trailed off.

“Lois” he proceeded softly. The drop in his voice gave her pause and caused her to shiver. “There’s something I need to say.” Lois felt his hand brush against her hip and glanced downward. Clark’s glasses were folded up, resting in his palm.

“Well since you have no trouble speaking, maybe you can tell me what to say. I don’t know how to tell him.” Her weight shifted as she turned to face him. His glasses remained firmly in his hand while his heart banged against his sternum. He was sure it was audible to her. This was it, I’m not turning back. The time is now. She needs to know. She’ll slap me, but she’ll know. I can do this. He could lift an island and stop an airplane but telling Lois who he was proved the impossible challenge.

Her head bent forward and landed squarely on his chest. Their shoes touched. Dainty stylish brown pumps tip to tip with a pair of worn square toed men’s shoes. His presence was so comforting. She could stay like this forever. Safe. With Clark, she was safe from anything, reality seemed to nibble at the edge of the haze.

A sigh escaped from his chest along with a muffled grumble. “Guess I have to return to that lame excuse of a party.”

Clark blinked to break the trance he had found himself in with Lois’s head against his chest. The moment had passed. With a swift move, he returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose and peered down at her through them with a sad expression. I have to tell her at some point. Now was not it. But soon.

If she would end things with Richard, it had to be done of her own volition without his external influence of emotions clouding her judgment. He managed a weak smile as Lois’s head turned up and their eyes met. My God, I love her. Clark drew himself away from her and regained their safe distance again.

“Scrape, scrape, scrape.”

Clark’s feet shuffled along the roof and shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

The female reporter’s silhouette stood against the backdrop of the Metropolis skyline and mirrored his awkward stance. After slipping the coat off her shoulders with the collar in her fist, an arm stretched outward to return the coat to it‘s owner. The other hand rubbed at her sniffling nose while her eyes looked away in embarrassment.

“Ok, so, here’s you coat.” Lois glanced at him as it slipped over a pair of broad shoulders. Very broad, sturdy shoulders. “Don’t want to start any more office gossip.” A weak smile emerged. “Don’t think I don’t know about the pool going for the next time I throw inanimate objects in your general direction.” She accused him playfully as an index finger shot in his direction.

The feeble smile grew wider at the tall man’s surprised eyebrows. Cute. The boy’s got charm. Ugh what am I thinking?… Idiot. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as an attempt to brush off the unexpected thoughts dancing through her mind, emotions she had for…Clark Kent of all people. Her eyes rolled at the inward thought.

“C’mon fearless partner. I’m not going down there to face that pain and torture alone.” Her smile continued. “Besides,” her shoulders became squared as her posture straightened “You came back to save me, didn’t you?” Her hazel eyes twinkled as Clark gulped at the words.

I did come back, for you. I would come back from the ends of the universe for you again. “Um, I guess that pretty much says it all.”

Lois had begun to make her way to the rooftop door, froze at the handle before opening it and whipped around inches from Clark’s face.

“Oh and another thing,” she added with a flash of malice in her voice.

“Yes?”

“If you so much as breathe a word of this conversation to anyone...” her eyes narrowed into slits. “You. Will. Be. Sorry.” An index finger punctuated each word into his large shoulder and a megawatt smile erupted. “It will take the Metropolis PD a month to find your body parts…got it?” With that final threat her arm flung open the heavy door and it’s hinges groaned loudly.

“Someone should really fix that.” He marveled at how loud the door was. He’d rarely been on the roof to actually hear it open and close. Often, he had been airborne and focused on the disaster that had sparked his attention before it ever fully opened or closed.

Her heels began to echo descending into the stairwell before Clark moved from the spot. The outpouring of Lois’s emotions left him stunned on the rooftop. Their situation was hers to control, sometime soon it would all come to a head. Like a head-on collision.

The clacking echoes stopped just before the door slammed shut “Come on Smallville. Move it” reverberated through the cement stairwell.

Clark’s firm hand pushed the door open again, which sent a gust of cold night air down the stairwell.

“Yes I know….to save you from a fate worse then death.” His voice had returned to it’s usual melodic lilt. “Someday Lois Lane you’re going to owe me one.”

The door slammed shut behind him and his footsteps quickly closed the distance between the pair. Lois gave her pause to know her partner was now catching up. The rosy blush on her cheeks had formed from sudden temperature change Clark noticed, as she glanced at him before speaking.

“What are you smiling at? I swear Clark,” her cadence toward the newsroom resumed “sometimes you are so strange.”

“Lois, you have no idea,” he grinned. “You know you have your quirks too.”

“Uh huh" the flustered reporter grunted. The door in the stairwell marking the bullpen’s 35th floor swung open as a wall of sound hit them. Clark smiled in awe and admiration of his partner as they returned to the party. Apology accepted Lois.