New Beginnings (Clark/Lois) Part 2
New Beginnings
2 - Clark
He's long ago resigned himself to the fact that he'll never be able to live a normal life. He'll never be able to fit in with society, never be able to be himself around others. He'll never be able to have a real relationship, because he'll always partly be living a lie. He's born to be a nomad, to live the life of a loner, a recluse. The world isn't ready to handle him.
After the world he's come to think of as his is attacked by people from the world that is his own, however, he begins to realize that maybe he's been looking at it all wrong. Maybe the world isn't ready to accept him, but there's no denying they need him. And he's come to realise that the person he's become-Superman, the saviour of the world-and the person he's always been-Clark Kent, the farm boy from Kansas-don't have to be one and the same. While they may be two sides of the same coin, nobody needs to know it. He can be Clark and he can be Superman, and as long as nobody finds out that Clark Kent is Superman, he may have a shot at living a normal life after all. Or as close to normal as he can get.
Applying for the job at the Daily Planet is a spur of the moment decision. He rationalises afterwards: this kind of job makes perfect sense for someone like him, someone who needs to be kept abreast of what's going on in the world, who needs to be able to go places and ask questions without being questioned himself. A job that allows him to control how much the world does and doesn't know about Superman. Not to mention he's always been a good writer. He tells himself applying for the job had nothing to do with the fact that Lois works there, even though he knows it does.
She teases him about it when he tells her. "You just can't stay away from me, can you, Smallville?" The nickname is something she came up with after he showed up on his first day of work in what she called a "farm boy shirt" (while he has nothing against plaid, it's apparently not something any self-respecting journalist with a major metropolitan newspaper would wear. Particularly when it's flannel) and seems to have stuck. He doesn't mind, in fact, he likes it.
He tries to tell her there were many other more logical reasons for taking the job, but she just laughs. The sound is music to his ears.
"Sure. Because working for the City desk is so appealing. Face it, Kent, you're just crazy for me."
He is. He's never been so completely head over heels for a woman the way he is for Lois Lane. They've barely know each other a month, and already, Clark can't imagine life without her. She's the only one other than his mother to know his real identity - or rather, identities. She keeps him grounded in the real world, makes sure that, in amidst all the heroics, Clark Kent is still there. She's the only thing that keeps him focused, keeps him from losing himself again.
***He finds himself an apartment in the East end of the city. Lois frowns when he tells her this; the neighbourhood, apparently, is "seedy", not that he's too worried. He's not that easy to beat up. Besides, as he explains to her, it has a tiny balcony that looks out over a deserted back alley, which is perfect for discrete comings and goings at all hours of the day.
"I doubt anyone's going to come here looking for Superman," he says, pouring himself some coffee.
"Shh!" Lois exclaims, looking around. The break room has become their secret place, the only spot in the office where they can be themselves.
Clark can't help grinning. Despite his X-Ray vision and enhanced hearing, Lois is still afraid that someone will walk in on them.
She catches sight of his smirk and smacks his bicep playfully. It's hard enough to make a grown man recoil, but he barely feels it. "Shut up, Smallville," she mutters, stirring cream into her own coffee. "I'm still getting used to this, okay. Not everyone has an alien for a boyfriend."
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. It's the only drawback to their relationship being a secret: he can't touch her nearly as often as he wants to. "Not everyone has Lois Lane for a girlfriend, either."
Lois is the one grinning now, cheeky smile lighting up her face. "Damn right, Kent. I'm one of a kind."
Doesn't he know it. He's never met anyone like Lois before. So strong and independent and in-your-face. She's the prime example of what every reporter dreams to be: always there right away, and 'always' asking questions. She's not afraid to speak her mind-especially if her opinion differs from yours-she's incredibly stubborn, and yet, she's also...accepting. Perhaps one of the most accepting people Clark has ever met.
God help him if she ever decides to leave.
***His first assignment is covering the annual "Friends of Metropolis" benefit. Lois, who's covered the benefit a number of times, is saddled, much to her great displeasure, with the responsibility of accompanying so that she can show him the ropes.
“It’s ridiculously unfair,” she protests, flopping down on his bed with an aggravated sigh. “Perry’s just doing this to spite me. He knows you’re more than capable of handling this on your own and he knows that I hate it.”
"Or maybe he just doesn't trust a brand new guy to know what he's doing and is sending someone more experienced whom he does trust to make sure that everything runs smoothly." Clark glances up from the stove, grinning.
He doesn't need to look to catch the pillow Lois chucks at his head, nor does he need to turn to know that she's glaring at him. "Not helping, Smallville."
He sighs heavily, as if trying to squash his disappointment. "Good thing I didn't ask then."
"Ask?" Lois sits bolt up right like she been administered and electric shock. "What were you going to ask?"
Clark shrugs, keeping his attention focused on the pot of pasta boiling on the stove top. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go the benefit with me, but I glad I didn't. Since you hate it so much."
There's a moment of silence. When Lois speaks, her voice is quiet.
"Ask me to the-You mean as a date?"
Clark chuckles. She's so shocked it's cute. "You said we had to do this like normal people, remember? We've passed the casual flirting and we've had coffee three times-"
Lois snorts. "Being in the break room at the same time hardly counts as having coffee."
"Ok, so we haven't had coffee yet. I just thought it was time for Clark Kent to 'grow a pair' as you're so fond of saying, and ask you out on a date. Because he's been dying to ever since he met you."
Lois stares at him like she doesn't know what to say, and he can't help feeling self-conscious. Is this too much? Did she want to keep their home life and their work life separate? He knew that the fact that Perry and some of her - their - other co-workers had seen them kiss in the aftermath of Zod's invasion bothers her, despite her assurances that nobody else will think anything of it because she told them it was just a fling. She's always worried that people will find out who he is, terrified - for reasons he can't begin to understand - that their relationship will make it impossible for him to live a normal life. He just wants to make her understand that she's what makes his life so normal, that without her, it's too easy to lose himself in the super and forget what 'normal' means. Forget that he can be normal.
"I mean, if you think it's too soon, we can take it slower," he adds hastily, combing a hand through his hair. He wishes he knew more about relationships, wishes he had some kind of experience in this field. So far he's been just following his feelings, but now that they have to "start over" he's not sure that's going to work anymore. "You know what? Just forget I said anything."
"It's not too slow," Lois says confidently, like she's ordering around interns at the office. A tone that says you don't know anything and I do so shut up and listen to me - not that Clark minds. He thinks it's sexy. Smiling, she swings off the bed and comes to join him at the stove. "You just took me by surprise, that's all. I was momentarily caught off-guard by you telling me you had decided to grow a pair-which you don't, in case you were wondering. Neither does Clark Kent," she adds with a suggestive wink. "They're just fine the way they are. More than fine, actually."
Clark can't help the slight flush that spreads across his cheeks. While he and Lois are both very liberal minded, he's still from small-town Kansas, where there are just some things you don't talk about. The size of your male anatomy is one of them.
Lois as usual, doesn't miss a beat. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rests her head against his back. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, well, you’re you and I’m...” Clarks sighs, stirring the pasta irritably and trying to squash his rising embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?”
She giggles, and leans forward, planting a kiss on his shoulder blade. Her lips sear his skin through his T-Shirt. “If it really bothers you that much, Smallville. Though you really don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“Lois.”
“Right.” He can feel her grin against his back. “Sorry.”
“It’s-it’s fine. Just...”
“Don’t ever mention it again?”
He lets out a relieved chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Right-o, Smallville.” Her arms slip away and he wants more than anything for them to come back. He feels whole when she holds him. “I guess I have to go shopping?”
Clark frowns, trying, and failing, to follow her thought process. “Shopping?”
Lois nods, dropping back onto the bed with a grin. “Well, I’m going to need a dress for this benefit thing, aren’t I?” She winks. “Wouldn’t want my date to be disappointed.”
***
The benefit starts out as a success. Lois looks stunning in a purple silk dress that shows entirely too much leg; Clark finds it impossible to keep his eyes off of her, and has difficulty thinking straight. The other men seem to be equally affected, and he can’t help worrying that she’ll be more interested in the competition-after all, Clark Kent can’t hold a candle to any of them.
The disappearance of Superman is a hot topic of conversation, but no one seems to make the connection that the slightly bumbling reporter from The Daily Planet is in fact the caped saviour of the world. Lois glances at him nervously every time she hears it mentioned, but she shouldn’t worry: the glasses and lack of suit seem to be a pretty foolproof costume.
The dance floor opens up after dinner, and Lois drags him out before he has the chance to process her request, let alone come up with an answer. Dancing has never been his forte, but he doesn’t want to give any of the other men a chance to take his place. While Lois may not notice them, Clark is all too aware of his competition. He’s never been the jealous type, but, then again, he’s never felt this way about anyone before.
They move slowly, lost in their own little world. Lois can’t seem to care less about his dancing abilities; she seems only to care about the fact that they are dancing. Clark finds it incredibly hard not to kiss her in front of everyone because she’s just so beautiful. She tips her head to the side and asks him if he’s all right, and he tries to come up with the words to tell her that he’s never been better in his life.
He’s interviewing some billionaire from Gotham when he hears the sirens on the other side of the city. There’s an apartment building on fire, and the rescuers can’t get to the family trapped on the top floor because the inferno is too intense. He manages to catch Lois’ eye and she swoops in right away like his own personal saviour-which she is-saying something about a phone call from Perry and a copy-editing nightmare at the office. He flashes her a grateful smile as he excuses himself, and she responds with a look that says, Be careful. Or else.
By the time he gets home, it’s nearly one in the morning. The benefit is long over, and Clark feels a pang of guilt at having abandoned Lois to do his job. He’s not too sure how well this reporting thing is going to go over if he’s always dashing off to save the day in the middle of assignments.
He’s covered in soot from head to toe, reeks of smoke, and feels like he’s been hit with a freight truck-though that wouldn’t really hurt that much-but the sight of Lois asleep in his bed, wearing his Kansas Jayhawks T-Shirt, her arms curled around his pillow, is enough to make him forget it all. Her silk dress is thrown over the chair in the corner, heels on the floor beside it, and he regrets not being there to take that dress off for her.
He ignores the temptation to crawl into bed beside her and drags himself into the shower. She’s awake when he emerges, suit having been traded for a pair of flannel pyjama pants. The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile, but he can see the worry mingling with exhaustion in her eyes. She doesn’t need to worry about him-most domestic criminals aren’t armed with Kryptonite-but he knows it’s not something he can prevent.
“You should be sleeping,” he murmurs, sliding into bed beside her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Lois is never too tired to roll her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, and look how that turned out.” She sighs, slipping her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you woke me.” Her breath whispers across his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Clark sighs, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. It glides through his fingers like silk. “You don’t have to wait up for me.”
“And you don’t have to go out and save the world.”
“Lois-” He thinks she might be being a little bit dramatic.
“Just accept it, Smallville. As long as you’re out saving the world, I’m going to wait up for you.”
He presses her against his chest and burying his face in her hair. He doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone as much as he loves her in this moment. "You know I'm lost without you, right, Lois?"
His voice is quiet, but he can tell from the way her face softens that she can hear the pain in it. He hopes she understands that he can’t survive without her.
"I know," she murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly with her hands. "I know."
Lying there in her arms, feeling more at home than he has in his whole life, Clark realises Superman’s biggest weakness isn't Kryptonite. It’s Lois Lane.
2 - Clark
He's long ago resigned himself to the fact that he'll never be able to live a normal life. He'll never be able to fit in with society, never be able to be himself around others. He'll never be able to have a real relationship, because he'll always partly be living a lie. He's born to be a nomad, to live the life of a loner, a recluse. The world isn't ready to handle him.
After the world he's come to think of as his is attacked by people from the world that is his own, however, he begins to realize that maybe he's been looking at it all wrong. Maybe the world isn't ready to accept him, but there's no denying they need him. And he's come to realise that the person he's become-Superman, the saviour of the world-and the person he's always been-Clark Kent, the farm boy from Kansas-don't have to be one and the same. While they may be two sides of the same coin, nobody needs to know it. He can be Clark and he can be Superman, and as long as nobody finds out that Clark Kent is Superman, he may have a shot at living a normal life after all. Or as close to normal as he can get.
Applying for the job at the Daily Planet is a spur of the moment decision. He rationalises afterwards: this kind of job makes perfect sense for someone like him, someone who needs to be kept abreast of what's going on in the world, who needs to be able to go places and ask questions without being questioned himself. A job that allows him to control how much the world does and doesn't know about Superman. Not to mention he's always been a good writer. He tells himself applying for the job had nothing to do with the fact that Lois works there, even though he knows it does.
She teases him about it when he tells her. "You just can't stay away from me, can you, Smallville?" The nickname is something she came up with after he showed up on his first day of work in what she called a "farm boy shirt" (while he has nothing against plaid, it's apparently not something any self-respecting journalist with a major metropolitan newspaper would wear. Particularly when it's flannel) and seems to have stuck. He doesn't mind, in fact, he likes it.
He tries to tell her there were many other more logical reasons for taking the job, but she just laughs. The sound is music to his ears.
"Sure. Because working for the City desk is so appealing. Face it, Kent, you're just crazy for me."
He is. He's never been so completely head over heels for a woman the way he is for Lois Lane. They've barely know each other a month, and already, Clark can't imagine life without her. She's the only one other than his mother to know his real identity - or rather, identities. She keeps him grounded in the real world, makes sure that, in amidst all the heroics, Clark Kent is still there. She's the only thing that keeps him focused, keeps him from losing himself again.
***He finds himself an apartment in the East end of the city. Lois frowns when he tells her this; the neighbourhood, apparently, is "seedy", not that he's too worried. He's not that easy to beat up. Besides, as he explains to her, it has a tiny balcony that looks out over a deserted back alley, which is perfect for discrete comings and goings at all hours of the day.
"I doubt anyone's going to come here looking for Superman," he says, pouring himself some coffee.
"Shh!" Lois exclaims, looking around. The break room has become their secret place, the only spot in the office where they can be themselves.
Clark can't help grinning. Despite his X-Ray vision and enhanced hearing, Lois is still afraid that someone will walk in on them.
She catches sight of his smirk and smacks his bicep playfully. It's hard enough to make a grown man recoil, but he barely feels it. "Shut up, Smallville," she mutters, stirring cream into her own coffee. "I'm still getting used to this, okay. Not everyone has an alien for a boyfriend."
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. It's the only drawback to their relationship being a secret: he can't touch her nearly as often as he wants to. "Not everyone has Lois Lane for a girlfriend, either."
Lois is the one grinning now, cheeky smile lighting up her face. "Damn right, Kent. I'm one of a kind."
Doesn't he know it. He's never met anyone like Lois before. So strong and independent and in-your-face. She's the prime example of what every reporter dreams to be: always there right away, and 'always' asking questions. She's not afraid to speak her mind-especially if her opinion differs from yours-she's incredibly stubborn, and yet, she's also...accepting. Perhaps one of the most accepting people Clark has ever met.
God help him if she ever decides to leave.
***His first assignment is covering the annual "Friends of Metropolis" benefit. Lois, who's covered the benefit a number of times, is saddled, much to her great displeasure, with the responsibility of accompanying so that she can show him the ropes.
“It’s ridiculously unfair,” she protests, flopping down on his bed with an aggravated sigh. “Perry’s just doing this to spite me. He knows you’re more than capable of handling this on your own and he knows that I hate it.”
"Or maybe he just doesn't trust a brand new guy to know what he's doing and is sending someone more experienced whom he does trust to make sure that everything runs smoothly." Clark glances up from the stove, grinning.
He doesn't need to look to catch the pillow Lois chucks at his head, nor does he need to turn to know that she's glaring at him. "Not helping, Smallville."
He sighs heavily, as if trying to squash his disappointment. "Good thing I didn't ask then."
"Ask?" Lois sits bolt up right like she been administered and electric shock. "What were you going to ask?"
Clark shrugs, keeping his attention focused on the pot of pasta boiling on the stove top. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go the benefit with me, but I glad I didn't. Since you hate it so much."
There's a moment of silence. When Lois speaks, her voice is quiet.
"Ask me to the-You mean as a date?"
Clark chuckles. She's so shocked it's cute. "You said we had to do this like normal people, remember? We've passed the casual flirting and we've had coffee three times-"
Lois snorts. "Being in the break room at the same time hardly counts as having coffee."
"Ok, so we haven't had coffee yet. I just thought it was time for Clark Kent to 'grow a pair' as you're so fond of saying, and ask you out on a date. Because he's been dying to ever since he met you."
Lois stares at him like she doesn't know what to say, and he can't help feeling self-conscious. Is this too much? Did she want to keep their home life and their work life separate? He knew that the fact that Perry and some of her - their - other co-workers had seen them kiss in the aftermath of Zod's invasion bothers her, despite her assurances that nobody else will think anything of it because she told them it was just a fling. She's always worried that people will find out who he is, terrified - for reasons he can't begin to understand - that their relationship will make it impossible for him to live a normal life. He just wants to make her understand that she's what makes his life so normal, that without her, it's too easy to lose himself in the super and forget what 'normal' means. Forget that he can be normal.
"I mean, if you think it's too soon, we can take it slower," he adds hastily, combing a hand through his hair. He wishes he knew more about relationships, wishes he had some kind of experience in this field. So far he's been just following his feelings, but now that they have to "start over" he's not sure that's going to work anymore. "You know what? Just forget I said anything."
"It's not too slow," Lois says confidently, like she's ordering around interns at the office. A tone that says you don't know anything and I do so shut up and listen to me - not that Clark minds. He thinks it's sexy. Smiling, she swings off the bed and comes to join him at the stove. "You just took me by surprise, that's all. I was momentarily caught off-guard by you telling me you had decided to grow a pair-which you don't, in case you were wondering. Neither does Clark Kent," she adds with a suggestive wink. "They're just fine the way they are. More than fine, actually."
Clark can't help the slight flush that spreads across his cheeks. While he and Lois are both very liberal minded, he's still from small-town Kansas, where there are just some things you don't talk about. The size of your male anatomy is one of them.
Lois as usual, doesn't miss a beat. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rests her head against his back. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I don’t mind.”
“Yeah, well, you’re you and I’m...” Clarks sighs, stirring the pasta irritably and trying to squash his rising embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this?”
She giggles, and leans forward, planting a kiss on his shoulder blade. Her lips sear his skin through his T-Shirt. “If it really bothers you that much, Smallville. Though you really don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“Lois.”
“Right.” He can feel her grin against his back. “Sorry.”
“It’s-it’s fine. Just...”
“Don’t ever mention it again?”
He lets out a relieved chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Right-o, Smallville.” Her arms slip away and he wants more than anything for them to come back. He feels whole when she holds him. “I guess I have to go shopping?”
Clark frowns, trying, and failing, to follow her thought process. “Shopping?”
Lois nods, dropping back onto the bed with a grin. “Well, I’m going to need a dress for this benefit thing, aren’t I?” She winks. “Wouldn’t want my date to be disappointed.”
***
The benefit starts out as a success. Lois looks stunning in a purple silk dress that shows entirely too much leg; Clark finds it impossible to keep his eyes off of her, and has difficulty thinking straight. The other men seem to be equally affected, and he can’t help worrying that she’ll be more interested in the competition-after all, Clark Kent can’t hold a candle to any of them.
The disappearance of Superman is a hot topic of conversation, but no one seems to make the connection that the slightly bumbling reporter from The Daily Planet is in fact the caped saviour of the world. Lois glances at him nervously every time she hears it mentioned, but she shouldn’t worry: the glasses and lack of suit seem to be a pretty foolproof costume.
The dance floor opens up after dinner, and Lois drags him out before he has the chance to process her request, let alone come up with an answer. Dancing has never been his forte, but he doesn’t want to give any of the other men a chance to take his place. While Lois may not notice them, Clark is all too aware of his competition. He’s never been the jealous type, but, then again, he’s never felt this way about anyone before.
They move slowly, lost in their own little world. Lois can’t seem to care less about his dancing abilities; she seems only to care about the fact that they are dancing. Clark finds it incredibly hard not to kiss her in front of everyone because she’s just so beautiful. She tips her head to the side and asks him if he’s all right, and he tries to come up with the words to tell her that he’s never been better in his life.
He’s interviewing some billionaire from Gotham when he hears the sirens on the other side of the city. There’s an apartment building on fire, and the rescuers can’t get to the family trapped on the top floor because the inferno is too intense. He manages to catch Lois’ eye and she swoops in right away like his own personal saviour-which she is-saying something about a phone call from Perry and a copy-editing nightmare at the office. He flashes her a grateful smile as he excuses himself, and she responds with a look that says, Be careful. Or else.
By the time he gets home, it’s nearly one in the morning. The benefit is long over, and Clark feels a pang of guilt at having abandoned Lois to do his job. He’s not too sure how well this reporting thing is going to go over if he’s always dashing off to save the day in the middle of assignments.
He’s covered in soot from head to toe, reeks of smoke, and feels like he’s been hit with a freight truck-though that wouldn’t really hurt that much-but the sight of Lois asleep in his bed, wearing his Kansas Jayhawks T-Shirt, her arms curled around his pillow, is enough to make him forget it all. Her silk dress is thrown over the chair in the corner, heels on the floor beside it, and he regrets not being there to take that dress off for her.
He ignores the temptation to crawl into bed beside her and drags himself into the shower. She’s awake when he emerges, suit having been traded for a pair of flannel pyjama pants. The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile, but he can see the worry mingling with exhaustion in her eyes. She doesn’t need to worry about him-most domestic criminals aren’t armed with Kryptonite-but he knows it’s not something he can prevent.
“You should be sleeping,” he murmurs, sliding into bed beside her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Lois is never too tired to roll her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, and look how that turned out.” She sighs, slipping her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you woke me.” Her breath whispers across his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Clark sighs, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. It glides through his fingers like silk. “You don’t have to wait up for me.”
“And you don’t have to go out and save the world.”
“Lois-” He thinks she might be being a little bit dramatic.
“Just accept it, Smallville. As long as you’re out saving the world, I’m going to wait up for you.”
He presses her against his chest and burying his face in her hair. He doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone as much as he loves her in this moment. "You know I'm lost without you, right, Lois?"
His voice is quiet, but he can tell from the way her face softens that she can hear the pain in it. He hopes she understands that he can’t survive without her.
"I know," she murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly with her hands. "I know."
Lying there in her arms, feeling more at home than he has in his whole life, Clark realises Superman’s biggest weakness isn't Kryptonite. It’s Lois Lane.