Three's a Crowd (Richard White, Lois Lane, Clark Kent, PG, Superman Returns)
Title: Three's a Crowd
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Richard/Lois, Lois/Superman, Richard/Clark and Richard/Superman. All hinted, none approved.
Rating: PG-ish.
Disclaimer: I don't play for keeps. DC owns them, or Warner. They're the same thing.
Notes: If I managed to get these characters right I'm sure some people on my flist will be happy. I could blame
trascendenza because her beautiful fic was really just begging me to write something in this fandom.
Feedback: Please. Be gentle though, this is my first time for SR.
Word Count: 1700.
The first thing that registers in his mind is how much he doesn’t blame Lois.
It would be the easiest path to take.
He could say a few cold words, pack up his things, and file for a divorce before the next morning.
He just stares at the wine glass in his hand.
Lois is braced against the kitchen counters they spent weeks arguing prices over and Richard realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen her truly afraid.
Even when they were about to die she didn’t look the way she does now.
It says so much about her, and he really should bring himself to say something soon. He can’t stand to see her looking the way she does, as if the world will crumble with one word from him.
He sets down the glass, and takes a step forward so he can touch her hand.
He squeezes it in his own. “I’m -- glad you told me.”
Lois nods, and looks like she would smile at him if she could. He will never cease to be amazed at how much this woman makes him love her.
“I’ll be there for you, whatever you decide.”
He gives her hand another squeeze, and this time she shakes her head and looks up at him through thick eyelashes. “You’re really okay with this?”
“I wouldn’t go so far to say that.” He can feel the corner of his mouth twist up in a smirk, before smoothing out into something serious again. “Lois. You want me in Jason’s life.”
He could never let that be a question.
Lois looks at him in shock. “You’re still his father Richard,” she rushes the words out so they half slip together in eagerness, “I would never -- he needs you in his life. He -- I need you.”
He shouldn’t let that be as much of a comfort as it is. Not in the present circumstances.
It’s too easy to wrap his arms around Lois’ smaller frame, and pull them together. She buries her face in his shoulder, and he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head.
It’s been a while since they felt this together.
He doesn’t let himself think about those implications.
It’s the middle of the night, but both he and Lois are awake.
He knows she knows he’s awake.
He just doesn’t expect her to say anything.
“I lied to you.”
She delivers the line as she always does pure fact, in the snappy tone of a reporter that knows what she wants. He has always loved that voice more than he cares to admit.
He nods, and smiles ruefully. “I know.”
“I was in love with him. Richard -- I’m still in love with him.”
She shifts under the sheets next to him, and a few seconds later he feels the pinky toe of her foot brush against his ankle. It’s a reminder of how close they are, even if their minds are a million miles away from each other. He doesn’t move away.
He’s silent for a long time. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that.
“I love you, too.” Her words are soft against the darkness of their bedroom. He lets his eyes fall closed to them.
It only makes it harder. He doesn’t blame her, and he can’t.
He also isn’t the first person out there to find out his wife is in love with another man, or even the first to find out she’s in love with both him and another man.
He’s just the first to find out the man isn’t a man at all, but an alien from a long dead planet.
It doesn’t actually change much.
“I know,” he says again, when the silence becomes unbearable.
Her toes rub a little at his ankle.
His fingers find the solid line of her shoulder, and he returns the gesture.
“I don’t want to have to choose between you.”
He doesn’t sigh, but he wants to. “At some point --”
“I know.”
He doesn’t really fall asleep that night. Neither does Lois.
Both of them are excellent at pretending.
His son -- Jason, is watching cartoons and eating cereal.
Lois didn’t bother to pour soy milk for him this morning, and nothing has happened besides Jason’s grin becoming twice as wide as usual.
It makes Richard’s heart pound in his chest a little harder than normal.
He should be happy that the allergies are mostly gone, but he’s just afraid of what will come.
He’s only ever wanted Jason to be happy.
That’s still true, but he can’t help but think how much harder that will be now. The things they will have to explain to him.
How to keep a secret. How to hide. How to make sure nothing like the Gertrude ever happens again.
So much that he has no idea about.
He smiles, and ruffles his son’s hair. “Hey munchkin, five more minutes and then I’m driving you to school.”
Jason looks backwards up at him. “Mommy isn’t taking me?”
He’s been a lot more attached to Lois since the accident. It’s perfectly normal except that it shouldn’t have ever happened.
“Mommy had to leave extra early to go chase an important story.”
“Oh, she’s safe, right?” His son gives him a very concerned look that goes right to the core of his deep blue eyes.
Richard doesn’t know how he ever thought they were anything like his own.
They’re still beautiful, and something inside him tears at the thought. “Of course. She has a lot of people watching out for her.”
Jason nods, and finishes up his cereal. Richard tries not to watch him too closely.
He’s distracted the entire day at work.
Lois appears to be fairing just as well as he is, and that makes him feel marginally better against his will.
He can’t focus on what he’s writing, so he beats himself twenty times at solitaire before he notices the clock and realizes either he or Lois has to go pick Jason up for school.
He sticks his head out of his office, and sees that Lois is already gone.
Well, so much for --
“A-are you alright, Richard?”
-- that.
He looks at Clark for a minute before he really sees him. He smiles when he finally does. “I’m sorry, Clark. I’ve had my head in the clouds all day.”
“You’re sure, though.”
He can’t help but notice Clark’s eyes are very intense behind the glasses.
Richard’s smile turns in on itself a bit. “Yes, positive.”
Clark nods, and fidgets with his fingers, looking down, and then back up so quick his glasses slip down his nose a bit.
Richard’s reaching out and pushing them back up before he knows what he’s doing.
Clark balks a little, and stares at him wide-eyed and curious. Richard almost hits himself.
Instead, he says, “You really should think about getting contacts.”
It’s fascinating, somehow, to watch Clark blush. “I don’t think so.”
“You have nice eyes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, and decides now would be a good time to retreat back to his office.
He feels like the world’s biggest idiot to be doing this.
The past three days have felt like someone constantly pulling the rug from beneath his feet even as he scrambles to right himself again.
He’s talked to Lois every night, but nothing is becoming anymore resolved.
He actually has more questions now than he did before, and none of them are remotely close to being answered.
Most of them have to do with Jason, and the rest about his and Lois’ relationship, and what that even means now. He only really knows what he wants it to mean, and what he sees it closer and closer to becoming.
He’s found himself with his eyes closed just thinking more times than could be healthy.
He closes his eyes how, and tries not to smirk so hard he sprains something.
This really would be funny, except for all the ways it isn’t.
“Superman, this is Richard White. If you can hear me I really think we need to talk.”
The words feel fuzzy coming out of his mouth, and if he the last time he really blushed hadn’t been in the tenth grade he would be doing so now. As it is, it takes a lot of effort not to.
He feels like he should have something to read while waiting or -- something.
What he really wishes is that this wasn’t so embarrassing in the first place, or that he could pull the shreds of his dignity as tight around himself as Superman’s damn cape.
“You called?” he, no -- Superman asks.
Richard feels a lot smaller than normal when faced with that shield, and those blue, blue eyes that remind him too much of his -- their son.
It takes a second, but he does meet the gaze.
He flew into that storm the same as he did, and he can’t let himself forget that. He can’t let himself forget he was the one there for Lois the past five years.
“I did.” He lifts his chin a bit more. “Lois told me about Jason.”
Superman seems to… deflate, almost. His shoulders become less regal, and his head tilts forward as if he were use to staring at his feet.
It looks wrong too him.
“I see. I’m glad you know, though.” His eyes lift back up, and cause Richard’s heart to pound. “You deserve them both much more than I do, Richard.”
He loves the sound of his name spoken from those lips.
He swallows hard, and looks away -- out over the city hanging on the brink of twilight. “There are things I will never be able to teach Jason. We both know that.”
“I could say the same thing. It would equally true.”
He jams his hands deep into his pockets. “So what’s the answer?”
Superman’s hand is resting on his shoulder. It’s warm, heavy, and deeply knowledgeable in a way Richard completely fails to be able to describe.
He does know he realizes a lot with that hand touching him.
Like even if it might be impossible --
“We do this together, Richard.”
He’s never had more incentive to try.
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Richard/Lois, Lois/Superman, Richard/Clark and Richard/Superman. All hinted, none approved.
Rating: PG-ish.
Disclaimer: I don't play for keeps. DC owns them, or Warner. They're the same thing.
Notes: If I managed to get these characters right I'm sure some people on my flist will be happy. I could blame
trascendenza because her beautiful fic was really just begging me to write something in this fandom.
Feedback: Please. Be gentle though, this is my first time for SR.
Word Count: 1700.
The first thing that registers in his mind is how much he doesn’t blame Lois.
It would be the easiest path to take.
He could say a few cold words, pack up his things, and file for a divorce before the next morning.
He just stares at the wine glass in his hand.
Lois is braced against the kitchen counters they spent weeks arguing prices over and Richard realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen her truly afraid.
Even when they were about to die she didn’t look the way she does now.
It says so much about her, and he really should bring himself to say something soon. He can’t stand to see her looking the way she does, as if the world will crumble with one word from him.
He sets down the glass, and takes a step forward so he can touch her hand.
He squeezes it in his own. “I’m -- glad you told me.”
Lois nods, and looks like she would smile at him if she could. He will never cease to be amazed at how much this woman makes him love her.
“I’ll be there for you, whatever you decide.”
He gives her hand another squeeze, and this time she shakes her head and looks up at him through thick eyelashes. “You’re really okay with this?”
“I wouldn’t go so far to say that.” He can feel the corner of his mouth twist up in a smirk, before smoothing out into something serious again. “Lois. You want me in Jason’s life.”
He could never let that be a question.
Lois looks at him in shock. “You’re still his father Richard,” she rushes the words out so they half slip together in eagerness, “I would never -- he needs you in his life. He -- I need you.”
He shouldn’t let that be as much of a comfort as it is. Not in the present circumstances.
It’s too easy to wrap his arms around Lois’ smaller frame, and pull them together. She buries her face in his shoulder, and he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head.
It’s been a while since they felt this together.
He doesn’t let himself think about those implications.
It’s the middle of the night, but both he and Lois are awake.
He knows she knows he’s awake.
He just doesn’t expect her to say anything.
“I lied to you.”
She delivers the line as she always does pure fact, in the snappy tone of a reporter that knows what she wants. He has always loved that voice more than he cares to admit.
He nods, and smiles ruefully. “I know.”
“I was in love with him. Richard -- I’m still in love with him.”
She shifts under the sheets next to him, and a few seconds later he feels the pinky toe of her foot brush against his ankle. It’s a reminder of how close they are, even if their minds are a million miles away from each other. He doesn’t move away.
He’s silent for a long time. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that.
“I love you, too.” Her words are soft against the darkness of their bedroom. He lets his eyes fall closed to them.
It only makes it harder. He doesn’t blame her, and he can’t.
He also isn’t the first person out there to find out his wife is in love with another man, or even the first to find out she’s in love with both him and another man.
He’s just the first to find out the man isn’t a man at all, but an alien from a long dead planet.
It doesn’t actually change much.
“I know,” he says again, when the silence becomes unbearable.
Her toes rub a little at his ankle.
His fingers find the solid line of her shoulder, and he returns the gesture.
“I don’t want to have to choose between you.”
He doesn’t sigh, but he wants to. “At some point --”
“I know.”
He doesn’t really fall asleep that night. Neither does Lois.
Both of them are excellent at pretending.
His son -- Jason, is watching cartoons and eating cereal.
Lois didn’t bother to pour soy milk for him this morning, and nothing has happened besides Jason’s grin becoming twice as wide as usual.
It makes Richard’s heart pound in his chest a little harder than normal.
He should be happy that the allergies are mostly gone, but he’s just afraid of what will come.
He’s only ever wanted Jason to be happy.
That’s still true, but he can’t help but think how much harder that will be now. The things they will have to explain to him.
How to keep a secret. How to hide. How to make sure nothing like the Gertrude ever happens again.
So much that he has no idea about.
He smiles, and ruffles his son’s hair. “Hey munchkin, five more minutes and then I’m driving you to school.”
Jason looks backwards up at him. “Mommy isn’t taking me?”
He’s been a lot more attached to Lois since the accident. It’s perfectly normal except that it shouldn’t have ever happened.
“Mommy had to leave extra early to go chase an important story.”
“Oh, she’s safe, right?” His son gives him a very concerned look that goes right to the core of his deep blue eyes.
Richard doesn’t know how he ever thought they were anything like his own.
They’re still beautiful, and something inside him tears at the thought. “Of course. She has a lot of people watching out for her.”
Jason nods, and finishes up his cereal. Richard tries not to watch him too closely.
He’s distracted the entire day at work.
Lois appears to be fairing just as well as he is, and that makes him feel marginally better against his will.
He can’t focus on what he’s writing, so he beats himself twenty times at solitaire before he notices the clock and realizes either he or Lois has to go pick Jason up for school.
He sticks his head out of his office, and sees that Lois is already gone.
Well, so much for --
“A-are you alright, Richard?”
-- that.
He looks at Clark for a minute before he really sees him. He smiles when he finally does. “I’m sorry, Clark. I’ve had my head in the clouds all day.”
“You’re sure, though.”
He can’t help but notice Clark’s eyes are very intense behind the glasses.
Richard’s smile turns in on itself a bit. “Yes, positive.”
Clark nods, and fidgets with his fingers, looking down, and then back up so quick his glasses slip down his nose a bit.
Richard’s reaching out and pushing them back up before he knows what he’s doing.
Clark balks a little, and stares at him wide-eyed and curious. Richard almost hits himself.
Instead, he says, “You really should think about getting contacts.”
It’s fascinating, somehow, to watch Clark blush. “I don’t think so.”
“You have nice eyes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, and decides now would be a good time to retreat back to his office.
He feels like the world’s biggest idiot to be doing this.
The past three days have felt like someone constantly pulling the rug from beneath his feet even as he scrambles to right himself again.
He’s talked to Lois every night, but nothing is becoming anymore resolved.
He actually has more questions now than he did before, and none of them are remotely close to being answered.
Most of them have to do with Jason, and the rest about his and Lois’ relationship, and what that even means now. He only really knows what he wants it to mean, and what he sees it closer and closer to becoming.
He’s found himself with his eyes closed just thinking more times than could be healthy.
He closes his eyes how, and tries not to smirk so hard he sprains something.
This really would be funny, except for all the ways it isn’t.
“Superman, this is Richard White. If you can hear me I really think we need to talk.”
The words feel fuzzy coming out of his mouth, and if he the last time he really blushed hadn’t been in the tenth grade he would be doing so now. As it is, it takes a lot of effort not to.
He feels like he should have something to read while waiting or -- something.
What he really wishes is that this wasn’t so embarrassing in the first place, or that he could pull the shreds of his dignity as tight around himself as Superman’s damn cape.
“You called?” he, no -- Superman asks.
Richard feels a lot smaller than normal when faced with that shield, and those blue, blue eyes that remind him too much of his -- their son.
It takes a second, but he does meet the gaze.
He flew into that storm the same as he did, and he can’t let himself forget that. He can’t let himself forget he was the one there for Lois the past five years.
“I did.” He lifts his chin a bit more. “Lois told me about Jason.”
Superman seems to… deflate, almost. His shoulders become less regal, and his head tilts forward as if he were use to staring at his feet.
It looks wrong too him.
“I see. I’m glad you know, though.” His eyes lift back up, and cause Richard’s heart to pound. “You deserve them both much more than I do, Richard.”
He loves the sound of his name spoken from those lips.
He swallows hard, and looks away -- out over the city hanging on the brink of twilight. “There are things I will never be able to teach Jason. We both know that.”
“I could say the same thing. It would equally true.”
He jams his hands deep into his pockets. “So what’s the answer?”
Superman’s hand is resting on his shoulder. It’s warm, heavy, and deeply knowledgeable in a way Richard completely fails to be able to describe.
He does know he realizes a lot with that hand touching him.
Like even if it might be impossible --
“We do this together, Richard.”
He’s never had more incentive to try.