Written for the 12 days of clois 100 challenge -- Fun!

A drabble, I guess. A play on the similarities of our opposite sets of lovebirds. and conversely, how opposite Clark and Lois are to each other. I plan to explore the 'opposites attract' theory more, in another fic -- at a later date.

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Lois taps a mad tattoo on the keyboard, which rattles on the desk -- in complaint of its abuse at her hand. With a final furious jab at the 'enter' key, she spins in her chair and glares at her partner. Clark sits back in his seat and watches her, a small smirk blooming on his fine features, his arms crossed comfortably.

"You seem to be out of coffee – I'll get you one. Frappacino?"

His long legs extended, toes tucked under her desk, he seems ready to wait forever for her response.

Ripping off her glasses, Lois shoots daggers at Clark, who accepts them as love darts, then 'whoofs' a dramatic sigh. "Are you going to just stand there staring at me, or do I have to get my own frilly caffeine fix?"

With a chuckle, and way too gracefully for his alter-ego, Clark jumps up and turns on his heel. As he walks away, he volleys a remark over his shoulder.

"You're both headstrong."

Clark ducks the stapler Lois heaves at his head, and makes a final mad dash for the elevator.

On the way back to her desk, toting the girly coffee, he picks the intended projectile up from the bullpen floor.

Lois watches him set it down on her desk, along with the coffee, and rolls her eyes, her look of thanks morphing into righteous indignation.

"I am not… like… Katherine Kowalski!"

Pinching back a smirk, Clark backpedals, not sure of Lois's mood.

"I'm sure, HE… didn't mean you were like her – Oh, Lois… look, I, I mean, Superman must have meant – well, when people are a lot ALIKE, they tend to, um, rub each other the wrong way."

A sly grin sneaks up on Lois's pert features, and Clark braces himself for the punch, realizing he walked into a trap.

"Well… is Superman like… Lex Luthor? Hmm."

Clark winces, the comment like a poke to the ribs – for him, a poke with a pointed stick of Kryptonite. Proving herself once again the Queen of Irony, Lois finishes with a sucker punch.

"Let's see, they're both stubborn, driven, charismatic, brilliant and --"

"--Point taken, Lois." Clark answers tersely. Shocked by the thought, he forgets himself for a second, and removes his glasses to rub at his eyes. For a moment, he revels in the mildly masochistic sensation of scrubbing away his tension, when he notices Lois's twin brown and hazel orbs trained on him.

Staring.

At him.

Without his glasses.

Like the proverbial Cervidae about to be vehicularly manslaughtered, Clark stares back, transfixed by her two-tone gaze.

Lois shakes her head, the crazy thought already a fading memory, and shrugging, turns back to her computer keyboard. She plops back down in her chair, facing her screen, intent on finishing the work that Clark so rudely interrupted.

Like he needed to share Superman's observations about my so-called similarities to a certain hooker of whom we will no longer speak.

Lois lowers her head to her keyboard, the lateness of the hour catching up to her. He just doesn't get itgo home, Clark.

"Look – go tell your pal, Superman, to find a place where the sun don't shine, and stick his smart-a --"

"--Lois?" The stern tone a harbinger of thoughts to come, Lois steels her shoulders, and turns her chair to face the shiny red boots she knows and loves.

Not to be undone by his speedy race to Clark's defense, Lois takes a deep breath to hide her exhaustion and quips, "Hey… Supes."

"Supes?" -- his voice an embarrassed whisper, his eyes alive with apprehension.

Encouraged by his lack of bravado, she stands to face him.

"Yeah, 'Supes' -- a new name I thought up for you – it's catchy – like Corn Flakes or… Ipod."

The look in his eyes strikes a chord in Lois – a familiar one – that reverberates oddlyLois glances down at her cooling, but untouched coffee. Huh, delayed action caffeine – but, I didn't drink any…

Kal carefully answers her, sensing a Lois storm on the horizon.

"Catchy, but not very… dignified."

"You need dignified? Funny, Clark and I – you know Clark – tall, gangly, same look… same eyes…

same eyes… as -- Lois stops and stares, and Clark knows he is in for it, but can't turn away. He senses this is uncharted territory.

Lois hesitates -- a mere flicker, that no one but Kal-El would notice.

"Uh, we -- Clark and I — we were just talking about similarities -- the need to appear dignified. Clark is never dignified, but you are always, just… so."

Her heart rate increases – adrenaline, he surmises. Then he berates himself for his clinical analysis of the situation -- a situation that could decide his very future as Clark – his existence, even.

"Okay, Lois – you win. I can't hide anymore… Supes it is."

"Uh… oh." Lois looks at him. The same… eyes.

Kal breaks her gaze to look off in the distance – an expression she is just starting to recognize. She sighs, and releases him from their game, all her energy draining away with the thought of his departure. "Go ahead – I have to finish this… article."

With a nod, he disappears – here one second, and gone the next – an impossibility in primary colour. Lois shakes her head, and a wave of fatigue overtakes her when she hears Clark's high-pitched voice.

"Uh, Lo - ois? You haven't touched your coffee?"

"Oh, its probably cold now…" Through bleary eyes, Lois looks dejectedly at the coffee, and her mouth works minutely, wanting a sip – just a sip…

Clark will probably never know whether his affection for his partner, or his own lack of sleep affected his judgment, but something makes him blurt out,

"No- no --they have these new cups – see, it's still good and hot…"

While Clark focuses on the cup to warm it up with his own personal microwave, he doesn't notice Lois's eyes flicker back and forth between his gaze and the cup's rim.

"Right, Smallville – technologically advanced paper cups – what will they think of next." – sure… and those eyes didn't just glow the teensiest bit.

Blowing on her steaming cup, Lois hides a smile as she gets her second wind.

"You have got to admit, Clark, Kitty is a stupid woman – she's practically a clothes rack."

"I disagree – I think it's a smokescreen. Like poker, she keeps her cards close to her chest – Lex does like to feel superior… and I think she senses that."

"I play poker – Kentor should I say Kal – you're just pulling my chain. What's the deal here?

Oblivious to the revelations going on in Lois's head, Clark forges on with his idea. "I think you should interview her. Now that she's safe from… Luthor, she might want to tell her side of the story…"

Lois perks up, her reporter's instinct triggered,

"Like the – abused girlfriend – a human interest piece?"

Getting into the mood, Lois slides her glasses back on her face, turns to her screen, and starts typing. Her muttering soothes Clark, and he knows that the storm, for now, has blown over. "Uh, huh – the woman's view – most abusers are men, most abused are women… hmm… now, what questions?"

As Clark turns to walk away, his partner calls to him one last time,

"Clark?"

"Yes, Lois?"

"Thanks for the hot coffee…"

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Thanks for reading!! Please review:)