Title: You're Coming Home
Author: Brie
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but I wished I owned Clark Kent and Lois would be cool to have around
Summary/AN: Just a little something I needed to get out of my head. It's pretty interesting I assure you. Clois. One-shot

You're Coming Home

Her voice coming from the outside of his door shouldn't have surprised him. He knew she would be by, had sensed her heartbeat long before she even started knocking. It shouldn't have surprised him but it did.

It did surprise him.

Climbing out of his tangle of covers, he made his way through his bedroom and to his door at a sluggish pace. By the time he turned the lock in the door her voice had grown progressively louder and the banging more insistent.

She had been leaning against his door, he realized almost too late as he struggled to keep her from falling. She giggled slightly and used his strong arms to steady herself.

"What took you show long?" She asked as soon as she found her balance and only wavered slightly before righting her stance and angling her chin upwards stubbornly with slightly narrowed eyes. She had almost mastered the art of speaking while under the influence, he thought with a twitch of his lips, almost allowing himself to smirk before remembering he was mad at her. She had only messed up one word, 'so' and she didn't even realize it.

"Well?" She asked impatiently and tried crossing her arms. He raised an eyebrow at her wobble and tried to remember what her question had been.

"I was attempting to do what every other sane person does at 3:30 in the morning," he told her sarcastically and crossed his own arms in defense. At her confused frown and then glare to look around his place for some girl he sighed and clarified impatiently.

"Sleeping, Lois, I was trying to sleep."

"Sleep ish good," she agreed with a regal nod and gave him a smile. He nodded and Lois decided that his answer satisfied any qualms that she had with him that night.

If she hadn't been only 'slightly' intoxicated, she would have recognized the defensive stance and guarded eyes. But she didn't and began to move towards the bedroom less wobbly than before.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked with another cautious frown and she waved at him dismissively. The look she turned to give him said it was obvious but still she clarified none-the-less.


"Not here," he said not able to hide the pain in his voice and grateful to whatever whiskey she had consumed that night for her not to recognize it as such.

He was wrong to think she wouldn't, he realized as she stopped moving and turned to him. She gave him a helpless look and moved to stand directly in front of him. She could feel his pain but wasn't quite lucid enough to understand it.

"Clark?" She asked struggling to focus on him and clear the alcohol from her hazy system. She reached out to lay a hand and gasped slightly when he flinched away.

As if it hurt having her touch him.

She couldn't understand why, didn't remember why he would be mad at her but knew for certain that her presence here hurt him. The tears welled up in her eyes and even drunk she refused to let them fall, he mused but stood there motionless. She reached out again slowly, hesitantly looking through her tears at him in askance. He gave no sign of understanding her plight and she dropped her hand back to her side.

"What did I do?" She asked brokenly, finally letting a tear leak from her flooded eyes.

"I'll call you a taxi to take you home. I know Chloe falls into that category I was telling you about earlier about people being asleep at 3:30 in the morning. I'm sure it will all come back to you when you're not drunk," he forced out before striding over to his telephone. Before he could even think of placing the call her soft voice stopped him.

"I am home," she whispered again in case he didn't hear her the first time.

"You have a funny way of showing it," he told her with a hidden meaning she couldn't quite grasp yet.

"Please Clark," she forced out hoarsely and managed once again to make her way over towards him without stumbling.

"What do you want from me?" He asked softly when he realized that she had no understanding of what happened in her current state. No idea of the pain she was causing just by showing up after the other day.

"I want to sleep. I want you to let me hold you," she spoke so softly that even with his super hearing he had trouble hearing her.

"Please," Lois said and let a few more tears escape unnoticed by her as she opened her arms invitingly. He allowed her to snuggle in his embrace and cursed himself for being so weak. She sniffled slightly and burrowed her face even further into his neck. He let out a sigh a raised a hand slowly to stroke through her hair.

"Sleep," she said almost in the form of a question but it still came off as more of a demand. He tried to release her in order to comply.

"No," she protested and her arms wrapped even more firmly about him. He guided her into his bedroom, stepping with her but still holding her. He looked down to his bed then managed to look into her eyes before relenting and sinking down into it. She made a little happy noise and quickly moved to place the blankets up around them.

In the darkness of his room they lay, and as much as she had argued for sleep her eyes remained stubbornly open and fixed on his.

"I hurt you," she whispered miserably after a few moments and he only nodded to confirm.

"I'm sorry."

"Sometimes, that's not good enough," he replied and closed his eyes against the stinging that lay beneath. She moved her hand to gently stroke his stubbled cheek and when he didn't protest she slowly slid her hand down to rest on his t-shirt clad chest right above his heart.

"But I love you," she said simply and locked her eyes onto his. The darkness of the room didn't seem to bother her, didn't seem to actually occur to her.

"I wish I could believe that," he couldn't help but tremble slightly in her arms. He had waited so long to hear those words come from her lips. After the other day he had almost given up entirely of ever hearing them but a drunken confession had never been in one of his dreams. Had never been how he had imagined it to happen and that hurt.

"But I do," she told him fervently with no sign of a slur and he almost forgot that she had come over drunk, that she probably wouldn't even remember this.

"Then why wouldn't you tell me? Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?" He bit out and struggled to move away from her. She wouldn't let him.

"What?" She asked while holding onto his arm as if her life depended on it. Maybe her life with him did, she thought and frantically tried to remember.

He watched as her eyes locked onto some point over his shoulder and her grip on his arm tightens. Her brow furrowed slightly as she let herself slip into her memories but after a few moments she finally looked back at him as if waiting for a response.

"You're ashamed of me," he stated his innermost fear and couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.


Her response was so firm, so adamant that he started to believe her. That is, until he remembered that she wasn't quite herself as of yet. She shook his arm slightly to draw his gaze back to hers and silently pleaded for his help. He gave her a sad smile in response and moved a finger up to trace her cheek. He didn't know how to help her, didn't know what she wanted from him. Lois seemed to understand this and firmly pressed her lips onto his quickly before stumbling out of the tangle of covers before moving into the little kitchenette in the next room.

He stayed sitting upright in his bed and tried to peer around the corner. She had disappeared completely but didn't move in the direction of the exit. Curious, he allowed himself to look through the wall and gave a little laugh when he saw her running in place in the kitchen. Unable to stay away, he got out of bed and went to her. She barely glanced in his direction as he took a seat at the little card tale.

"What are you doing?" He couldn't help but ask.

"I'm running," she told him seriously and increased her pace. He was sure his neighbors below wouldn't thank him in the morning for the noise but he thought it revenge for that party they threw the day before finals.

She stopped abruptly and turned to the coffee pot he hadn't realized she switched on and poured a big cup. She avoided his gaze as she placed it on the table and then moved to his fridge and pulled out the orange juice. After pouring a glass of that as well she moved to his cupboard and grabbed crackers, bread, and chocolate chip cookies before finally taking the seat across from him.

"Lois?" He asked amused despite himself and she finally looked up at him with sad eyes.

"I can't talk yet, give me a half hour," she told him softly and began to devour crackers. He reached over to grab one only to have his hand batted away. She tossed him a Twinkie that he hadn't notice her grab to appease him. It worked.

"Thanks. You know—"

"No talking," she said again and started to gulp down her orange juice. He merely raised his eyebrow but went back to his Twinkie. She moved on to the bread next, shaking her head before taking a few bites and then a few sips of coffee. She was on her third cup of coffee and only had half a box of cookies left when she blushed slightly and made a move for the bathroom.

When she got out of the bathroom for the second time she started looking through his cupboards again and he thought that maybe he should put a stop to it before she ate all his food. She seemed happy to only approach the table with a bottle of hot sauce and he watched in disbelief as she took a sip of it.

"Lois," he made a move to stop her but was surprised when she met his gaze with her sharp one. Her eyes were clear of that blurry sheen and the drunken flush that had been on her cheeks was gone.

"I'm tired," she announced with a sigh and nibbled on another cookie.

"I think you can make it home on your own now, you don't have to stay here," he told her softly trying to dismiss the conversation she had only just begun.

"I am home," she repeated from earlier and this time he had to believe her. With another weary sigh she stood and with her eyes asked permission to head into the bedroom. He nodded and rose to follow her.

They sat against his headboard, knees up to chest and Lois allowed her hand to drop gently on his. The spark that was always present when they touched was still there and she felt relief. He allowed her to rest her hand over his as she gathered her thoughts.

Now she understood his reluctance, Lois thought in self-disgust and shame. She understood why he had seemed so hurt when she had first showed up, because she had given him no reason to believe that she would show up ever again. She had run away from him, from her feeling but she couldn't do it any longer. She had promised herself that she would never hurt him.

"I'm not ashamed of you Clark."

"Then why?"

She didn't need him to explain his question; she knew what he wanted to know. She just didn't quite know how to put her feelings into words.

"I'm afraid."

"Of me?" He asked not even attempting to hide the pain in his voice. He started to withdraw his hand from under hers but she gripped it firmly intertwining their fingers. She couldn't bear to hear his insecurity, his pain, knowing that she was the cause of it.

"No Clark, never of you. I'm terrified of what I feel for you, because I've never felt anything like it before. I feel as though my world begins and ends with you and I'm so terrified of losing that but I've never been dependent on anyone in my life before. I'm afraid I'm going to lose you and I won't know what to do—and I just might have already done that," she finished quietly, bitterly, mocking her own reality.

He didn't let himself reply right away, not really knowing what to say to that. His heart had filled with hope at her words but a part of him still wondered why she would want to keep their relationship a secret.

"You haven't lost me Lois, I just need to know, why the secrecy?"

"I told Chloe tonight, err…last night," she admitted with a little smile remembering her cousin's reaction. She had been happy and couldn't understand why Lois wasn't just as pleased and was instead drinking herself under a table. It had been Chloe who dropped her off here, she remembers with a shake of her head. She had left her at the door with only two words, 'fix it," and then with a happy hug was on her way.

"What?" Clark asked with disbelief.

"I told Chloe about us," she said with a smile at his happy expression and gripped his hand tighter.


"Are you going to move away from the one word questions anytime soon?" She muses leaning into him.

"Well, I've still got when and where left," Clark can't help but tease and wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his embrace. She sighs contentedly and decides to clarify everything for him all at once.

"I told Chloe when she got home tonight; because I wanted to and also because I thought I just lost you to my stupid pride and was drinking. She got so fed up with my mopey attitude that she told me that we were taking a trip to see you and I got happy and here we are," she finished with a yawn.

"And here we are," Clark repeated and leaned down to place a kiss against her temple.

"You missed," she told him slyly, moving her head to glance up at him.

"I guess I'll have to try again," he reassured and leaned down slowly.

"I love you," she whispers before his lips could touch hers and he pulled back in surprise. He looked at her almost cautiously and she cursed herself for letting him doubt her feelings. .

"Say it again," Clark demanded with a smile knowing full well that she meant what she said.

"I love you," Lois told him again simply. He let out a laugh and swooped down to pull her into a passionate kiss. She couldn't help but smile into his kiss and then let herself be lost completely. After a few moments she pulled away needing to hear the same from him.

"I love you too," he said, not needing her to ask and she gripped his shirt playfully, pulling him back in for another kiss. She would never hold back those words again and little did he know they would be heading to Smallville for thanksgiving weekend. After a drunken call to Martha explaining the situation as best she could, Martha had demanded it but he didn't need to know that. Or the fact that she had made a few drunken calls that night and everyone in her phonebook now knew.

She'll tell him later…

The End

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