Fic: The Morning After | DCU | Jason Todd/Lois Lane | R | 1/1
Title: The Morning After
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason Todd/Lois Lane
Rating: R - for language
Word Count: 2,960
Prompt: (for 50_darkfics) #99 - Writer's Choice: Consequences
Summary: The next morning, the repercussions of rebound sex are hard to deal with, especially when a certain Kryptonian shows up.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Note: At last! The long awaited sequel to Cast-Off! ^_~ If you haven't read the first, this won't make too much sense. Go read it. It'll be worth it, I promise. Oh, did I mention this is pure, unadulterated CRACK? :p *hugs her Lois muse*
The Morning After
As the last hazy vestiges of sleep dissipated, Lois turned over in bed to find herself alone, the place where Jason Todd - Oh, my God, did I really sleep with Jason Todd? - had slept next to her completely cold. Hnn. I guess that's not a surprise, she thought with a mental eye roll, vaguely remembering his desire not to be fried to a crisp, should Clark find him here.
Then she smelled the coffee.
What the hell?
After slipping out of bed, she visited the bathroom, then wrapped herself in her short, pink silk robe to seek out the source of the heavenly aroma, her head already reminding her how much she'd had to drink the night before. Amazing I'm not still drunk! Ignoring the throbbing staccato of a vein in her temple, she emerged from the short hallway into the kitchen, shocked to her toes to find that Jay hadn't left, after all.
“Sleep all right?” he asked with a wry smirk as he poured two cups from the pot and handed her one. “I assume you take it black.”
Lois blinked, staring at him. Wearing the same clothes he'd come in, he didn't look at all like he'd drunk half a bottle of scotch. “Um... yeah,” she finally answered, accepting the coffee from him and taking a long swallow. “Aren't you hung over?” she asked, watching as he started rummaging through her fridge for something to eat.
“Is Batman an ass hole?” he shot back, grabbing a carton of eggs and bag of sliced bread and throwing her a sarcastic look. “My head's about to explode, and all this sunshine is blinding me.”
“Well, you sure as hell don't look like it.” She wondered briefly how long they could ignore the fact that they'd slept together the night before.
“Chalk it up to Bat training. Well, that, and living on the streets. Never show an enemy your pain.”
“Sound philosophy,” Lois nodded in agreement, sipping her coffee as she leaned back against the counter. She continued to stare as it became apparent that Jay was actually fixing breakfast. “What are you doing?” she finally asked, with one eyebrow raised.
“What does it look like? I'm starving, my stomach feels lacerated from all that scotch, and I figure I might as well do something to apologize for being a whiny little bitch last night.”
“Uh-huh,” she said warily. Oh, hell... “You sure you're not trying to appease the cougar that ravaged you in your weakened condition?”
Turning from where he was cracking a few eggs into a pan, Jay scowled at her. “It wasn't all you,” he quietly admitted after a moment.
Lois smirked, stepping through the kitchen to flop down in a chair at the small table. “Got that right.” Crossing her legs, she sat her coffee down and ran a hand through her slightly tangled hair. “God, I need a cigarette,” she murmured to herself.
“You smoke!?” Jay gaped at her.
“Not in a few years, but after all this, I think I'm entitled a few drags,” she said sourly.
His brow furrowed, Jay went around the kitchen island counter to the small living room and rummaged through his jacket on the back of the couch. “Here,” he said, smirking as he tossed her a partially crumpled pack of cigarettes. “They're a little stale, but they'll take the edge off.”
Lois stared at the pack after she caught it, finding herself not completely surprised that Jay smoked, too. He was the Big Bad Wolf, after all. “You know this menthol crap'll kill you,” she finally smirked at him, upending the pack to pull out a cigarette. “Got a lighter?”
“Here,” he said, tossing her a black Zippo as well as he crossed back into the kitchen to tend to the eggs.
“Huh, I guess you do have taste.” After lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag, she sat back and moaned with delight, letting her eyes fall shut as she savored the flavor and the rush of nicotine. When she opened her eyes again, a small dish was set in front of her as a makeshift ashtray and Jay was lighting up, himself. Unable to stop a wicked look and ignoring the absolute wrongness of the situation, she said, “Of course, coming here proves that you have good taste.”
“And you being alone proves that Clark has none,” he answered her, his expression dark.
“No argument here. Just...” Still unsure how to proceed, but knowing things needed to be said, Lois plowed forward with no filter to her thoughts. “Let's not make this a thing, okay? I know I asked you to stay, but you didn't have to. And it won't hurt my feelings if you go your merry way. That's how one night stands work.”
For a moment, she couldn't read his expression as he took another drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nostrils. “No problem,” he finally responded. “Like I said before, I don't need Big Blue on my ass for cleaning up after him. And I doubt you really want a known killer hanging around for long.”
Something about the speed of his speech cut straight to her reporter's instinct. Was he... upset?
* * * * *
Exiting the elevator into the hallway, Clark ran his hand through his hair, wondering what he'd say to Lois, wondering how she would react to him 'just coming by to get a few things', wondering why he'd gone in the first place. A large part of him still couldn't believe he'd so easily given up years of marriage to the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet for what he had with Bruce. Maybe he just couldn't face what he'd done beneath Lois's cold glare that night. He didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to talk to her, to sort through this mess that he'd created, to-
“...not make this a thing, okay? I know I asked you to stay, but you didn't have to. And it won't hurt my feelings if you go your merry way. That's how one night stands work.”
Clark paused with his hand poised to knock on the door to the apartment. What the hell? Who was Lois talking to?
“No problem. Like I said before, I don't need Big Blue on my ass for cleaning up after him. And I doubt you really want a known killer hanging around for long.”
His heart rate doubled instantly as adrenaline pumped through him. He recognized the male voice, vaguely... Known killer?
“Jason... listen...” came Lois's reply. “Christ, I knew this was gonna be damn awkward,” she muttered.
Jason? She can't mean... Decidedly not listening in on the rest of the conversation, Clark raised his hand again to knock, the realization hitting him that Lois had... God, he couldn't even think it!
* * * * *
When the loud knock sounded at the door, Jay froze in his scrambling of the eggs. “Shit,” he breathed. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
Lois was already up from her chair and headed for the door, mumbling a few choice words beneath her breath as well. Hands landing on the chain and the deadbolt, she peered out the peep hole. “Dammit,” she muttered again, and with a few flips, the rattle of the chain, and a turn of the knob, she pulled the door to swing it open.
“Lois,” Clark said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot in his jeans and flannel shirt and not really looking her in the eye.
Crossing her arms in front of her, she glared at him with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“I, uh, just came to get a few things. Some stuff in the study...” he elaborated, pointing down the short hallway to the spare bedroom they'd used as an office for the better part of a decade.
Lois rolled her eyes, seething, knowing he knew she wasn't alone and wishing he'd just shove off and run back to Brucie. “Fine,” she snapped. “But make it quick.”
“No problem,” Clark nodded quickly, still not meeting her gaze as he stepped inside and scurried down the hall to gather whatever garbage had been leftover from their journalistic career together that he deemed worth saving. Damn you.
Shutting the door, she stalked back to the kitchen, her robe swishing angrily around her. “No!” she snapped when she found Jay already grabbing his helmet and shrugging on his jacket to make his hasty retreat. “Don't you dare!” she fumed, pointing at him.
“Uh-uh,” he shook his head in return, taking a last drag of his cigarette and stubbing it out in the dish on the table before stepping to the window and throwing it open. “No way am I sticking around now. Not with him in the next room. I value my ass in one piece, thank you.”
Rolling her eyes again, Lois heaved a sigh, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, for the love of... He's not gonna fry you to a crisp, Jay. Now get back in here and finish cooking breakfast. The eggs are getting burned.” Turning away in a swirl of pink silk, she headed back toward the study, calling over her shoulder, “I'll go deal with Clark.” Whether either of them would actually listen to her or not remained to be seen.
* * * * *
Standing amidst several partially filled boxes of random journalism awards and mementos, Clark tried desperately not to listen to anything that might be said in the kitchen and living room. He couldn't get his mind around the shock that Lois had had one very criminal ex-Robin in their - her - apartment. And by had, he realized there was no denying just what she'd done with him. The silk robe and mussed hair combination wasn't exactly a daily occurrence. Not to mention the stench of fresh cigarette smoke surrounding her. There hadn't been a pack of cigarettes in the apartment since before they were married, and she'd never smoked menthols.
The resulting mental images from the myriad of evidence refused to disappear from behind his eyelids, leaving him shuddering. God, I can't believe she...
“Something wrong?”
Jumping at the sudden voice behind him, he whirled to find Lois standing in the doorway, arms folded again. “I...” But he couldn't possibly finish that sentence. I know what you did with him. I can't believe you'd let a killer into our home. I can't believe you slept with Jason Todd, of all people! I can't believe I left you! I... I... At some point he realized he was gaping at her, a fish out of water and starving for oxygen.
“Whatever you're thinking, it's none of your business, Clark,” she said, seeming to have read his mind. “You need to finish getting your things together and go. I've got breakfast waiting for me, and I don't want it to get cold.”
“Seems like you've got other things waiting for you, too,” Clark spat without thinking, suddenly unable to rein in his hurt. Oh, shit...
“Excuse me!?” Lois's eyes narrowed to deadly slits, her shoulders squared to do battle. “Where exactly do you get off, huh? I caught you in bed, in bed!! With another man, and you have the balls to call me out on my choice of bed partners? Bullshit. You know what,” she held out a hand, palm forward to cut off whatever comment he was gathering. “Get out. Just grab whatever you have there, and get the hell out. You can come get the rest when I'm not home. And leave the key when you're done.”
“You know he's a murderer, Lois,” he called after her as she swept back out of the room and down the hall. “You can't trust him!” Holy crap, what am I saying!? She's gonna turn me into lunch meat! Grabbing the two smaller boxes swiftly, he followed her toward the door, almost crashing into her when she whirled on him in the foyer.
“So fucking what!?” she shouted at him, inches from his face, teeth bared and eyes blazing. “He could be Jack the fucking Ripper, for all I care, because you know what? He was here, not off screwing another Bat behind my back.” With that, she swung the door open again to dismiss him from the apartment.
Blood rushing in his ears from both her volume and his own sheer rage at the series of events that had brought them to this point, Clark swallowed what little pride he had left and stepped out into the hall. Banished.
* * * * *
In the kitchen, Jay finished scraping the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates just as he heard the door slam hard enough to rattle the windows in the living room. He couldn't help a wince at the exploding pain behind his eyes at the noise, but there was no way he could blame Lois for kicking Clark to the curb - again; he'd caught the murderer comment.
Fucking Boy Scout.
He waited for Lois to return for her breakfast, lighting another cigarette on the side, but when she didn't come back, he realized something was wrong.
Hmph. Probably went to stick pins in a Superman doll or some shit, he tried to rationalize, rising from the table and stepping around the kitchen island to go check on her. He wouldn't have put it past her, anyway, and would sure as hell cheer her on if she did.
What he didn't expect was to find her leaning against the door, palms flat against it and her head bowed. Oh, please don't tell me she's crying... he railed to himself. That was the last thing he needed to deal with this morning.
The sudden roar ripping from her throat cleared away that notion, however. Throwing her head back, she screamed with everything it seemed she had, the howl sounding more like that of a hungry Tyrannosaurus rex than a woman. Naturally, he cringed back, not daring to say a thing to announce his presence. Jeez, what have I gotten myself in the middle of, here!?
Knowing damn well it was past time to get the hell out of Dodge, he turned to head back to the living room. No point being used as target practice should Clark return. And no way in hell was he willing to come between them if it came down to it. What Lois had said about him being there... well, that was a little closer to the fray than he was comfortable being at the moment.
But dammit... Lois just didn't deserve what that bastard had done to her.
He paused with one hand gripping the edge of his helmet and the other on the window ledge. Breakfast was getting cold on the table. His second cigarette was burning down in the ash tray. Lois was still screaming her lungs out.
And he found himself wanting to stop the pain for her.
Shocking himself with his personal admission, he set his helmet on the coffee table again and stepped back to the hallway, Silently, he waited to see if it was safe for him to approach. Maybe she was right about that 'cougar' thing, he smirked.
But instead of calming down, she just screamed harder, louder, finally pounding on the door with her fists, kicking with bare feet, her hair and robe whipping around her. Her thrashing growing more violent, Jay wondered if she would tear him to shreds for having the audacity to still be in her apartment. But she had ordered him to stay, he reminded himself, keeping still and clenching his fists at his sides until it looked like her fit might be winding down.
Eventually, her screams devolved into wailing interspersed with curses that made Jay look like a saint, and she spun, flinging herself back against the door, fists digging into her eyes. “You fucking ass hole,” she finally declared, sliding down to the floor and landing with a thump, her legs splayed out to one side and her head cradled in her hands.
“Christ...” Jay swore, more to himself, finally peeling away from his spot in the hallway to kneel next to her. “Hey,” he started, smoothing her wild hair down with one hand.
Like a wounded animal, she snapped her head up and glared at him, tears marking their trails down her cheeks and throat.
“Whoa...” he drew his hand back instinctively at the daggers in her eyes and the sneer on her lips. “I... uh, sorry... I'm sorry. I didn't... I should go...” Hurriedly, he stood and moved to make his exit, his sense of self-preservation taking over.
“Wait,” she finally said, prompting him to turn again at the much weaker tone of her voice. “Please... don't go. I...”
And that was it. Self-preservation or not, no way he was walking out on the burned out mess that jack ass had left behind. He wasn't that cold. He wasn't Bruce. Not hearing anything else Lois might have said, he came back and offered her his hand, helping her up off the floor. “Come on, your eggs are getting cold.”
“Thanks, Jay. I really appreciate it,” she said softly as she stood and straightened her robe around her, before raising up on tiptoes and kissing him lightly on the cheek. “And I'm sorry for getting you involved in this.”
“No problem. And don't sweat it. I'm a dangerous killer, remember? I can handle Big Blue.”
“Smart ass,” she smirked at him, giving him a backhanded swat on the shoulder. With a shake of her head, she turned to head back to the kitchen.
After a moment left wishing he still had that huge stash of K, he followed.
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason Todd/Lois Lane
Rating: R - for language
Word Count: 2,960
Prompt: (for 50_darkfics) #99 - Writer's Choice: Consequences
Summary: The next morning, the repercussions of rebound sex are hard to deal with, especially when a certain Kryptonian shows up.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Note: At last! The long awaited sequel to Cast-Off! ^_~ If you haven't read the first, this won't make too much sense. Go read it. It'll be worth it, I promise. Oh, did I mention this is pure, unadulterated CRACK? :p *hugs her Lois muse*
The Morning After
As the last hazy vestiges of sleep dissipated, Lois turned over in bed to find herself alone, the place where Jason Todd - Oh, my God, did I really sleep with Jason Todd? - had slept next to her completely cold. Hnn. I guess that's not a surprise, she thought with a mental eye roll, vaguely remembering his desire not to be fried to a crisp, should Clark find him here.
Then she smelled the coffee.
What the hell?
After slipping out of bed, she visited the bathroom, then wrapped herself in her short, pink silk robe to seek out the source of the heavenly aroma, her head already reminding her how much she'd had to drink the night before. Amazing I'm not still drunk! Ignoring the throbbing staccato of a vein in her temple, she emerged from the short hallway into the kitchen, shocked to her toes to find that Jay hadn't left, after all.
“Sleep all right?” he asked with a wry smirk as he poured two cups from the pot and handed her one. “I assume you take it black.”
Lois blinked, staring at him. Wearing the same clothes he'd come in, he didn't look at all like he'd drunk half a bottle of scotch. “Um... yeah,” she finally answered, accepting the coffee from him and taking a long swallow. “Aren't you hung over?” she asked, watching as he started rummaging through her fridge for something to eat.
“Is Batman an ass hole?” he shot back, grabbing a carton of eggs and bag of sliced bread and throwing her a sarcastic look. “My head's about to explode, and all this sunshine is blinding me.”
“Well, you sure as hell don't look like it.” She wondered briefly how long they could ignore the fact that they'd slept together the night before.
“Chalk it up to Bat training. Well, that, and living on the streets. Never show an enemy your pain.”
“Sound philosophy,” Lois nodded in agreement, sipping her coffee as she leaned back against the counter. She continued to stare as it became apparent that Jay was actually fixing breakfast. “What are you doing?” she finally asked, with one eyebrow raised.
“What does it look like? I'm starving, my stomach feels lacerated from all that scotch, and I figure I might as well do something to apologize for being a whiny little bitch last night.”
“Uh-huh,” she said warily. Oh, hell... “You sure you're not trying to appease the cougar that ravaged you in your weakened condition?”
Turning from where he was cracking a few eggs into a pan, Jay scowled at her. “It wasn't all you,” he quietly admitted after a moment.
Lois smirked, stepping through the kitchen to flop down in a chair at the small table. “Got that right.” Crossing her legs, she sat her coffee down and ran a hand through her slightly tangled hair. “God, I need a cigarette,” she murmured to herself.
“You smoke!?” Jay gaped at her.
“Not in a few years, but after all this, I think I'm entitled a few drags,” she said sourly.
His brow furrowed, Jay went around the kitchen island counter to the small living room and rummaged through his jacket on the back of the couch. “Here,” he said, smirking as he tossed her a partially crumpled pack of cigarettes. “They're a little stale, but they'll take the edge off.”
Lois stared at the pack after she caught it, finding herself not completely surprised that Jay smoked, too. He was the Big Bad Wolf, after all. “You know this menthol crap'll kill you,” she finally smirked at him, upending the pack to pull out a cigarette. “Got a lighter?”
“Here,” he said, tossing her a black Zippo as well as he crossed back into the kitchen to tend to the eggs.
“Huh, I guess you do have taste.” After lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag, she sat back and moaned with delight, letting her eyes fall shut as she savored the flavor and the rush of nicotine. When she opened her eyes again, a small dish was set in front of her as a makeshift ashtray and Jay was lighting up, himself. Unable to stop a wicked look and ignoring the absolute wrongness of the situation, she said, “Of course, coming here proves that you have good taste.”
“And you being alone proves that Clark has none,” he answered her, his expression dark.
“No argument here. Just...” Still unsure how to proceed, but knowing things needed to be said, Lois plowed forward with no filter to her thoughts. “Let's not make this a thing, okay? I know I asked you to stay, but you didn't have to. And it won't hurt my feelings if you go your merry way. That's how one night stands work.”
For a moment, she couldn't read his expression as he took another drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nostrils. “No problem,” he finally responded. “Like I said before, I don't need Big Blue on my ass for cleaning up after him. And I doubt you really want a known killer hanging around for long.”
Something about the speed of his speech cut straight to her reporter's instinct. Was he... upset?
* * * * *
Exiting the elevator into the hallway, Clark ran his hand through his hair, wondering what he'd say to Lois, wondering how she would react to him 'just coming by to get a few things', wondering why he'd gone in the first place. A large part of him still couldn't believe he'd so easily given up years of marriage to the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet for what he had with Bruce. Maybe he just couldn't face what he'd done beneath Lois's cold glare that night. He didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to talk to her, to sort through this mess that he'd created, to-
“...not make this a thing, okay? I know I asked you to stay, but you didn't have to. And it won't hurt my feelings if you go your merry way. That's how one night stands work.”
Clark paused with his hand poised to knock on the door to the apartment. What the hell? Who was Lois talking to?
“No problem. Like I said before, I don't need Big Blue on my ass for cleaning up after him. And I doubt you really want a known killer hanging around for long.”
His heart rate doubled instantly as adrenaline pumped through him. He recognized the male voice, vaguely... Known killer?
“Jason... listen...” came Lois's reply. “Christ, I knew this was gonna be damn awkward,” she muttered.
Jason? She can't mean... Decidedly not listening in on the rest of the conversation, Clark raised his hand again to knock, the realization hitting him that Lois had... God, he couldn't even think it!
* * * * *
When the loud knock sounded at the door, Jay froze in his scrambling of the eggs. “Shit,” he breathed. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
Lois was already up from her chair and headed for the door, mumbling a few choice words beneath her breath as well. Hands landing on the chain and the deadbolt, she peered out the peep hole. “Dammit,” she muttered again, and with a few flips, the rattle of the chain, and a turn of the knob, she pulled the door to swing it open.
“Lois,” Clark said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot in his jeans and flannel shirt and not really looking her in the eye.
Crossing her arms in front of her, she glared at him with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“I, uh, just came to get a few things. Some stuff in the study...” he elaborated, pointing down the short hallway to the spare bedroom they'd used as an office for the better part of a decade.
Lois rolled her eyes, seething, knowing he knew she wasn't alone and wishing he'd just shove off and run back to Brucie. “Fine,” she snapped. “But make it quick.”
“No problem,” Clark nodded quickly, still not meeting her gaze as he stepped inside and scurried down the hall to gather whatever garbage had been leftover from their journalistic career together that he deemed worth saving. Damn you.
Shutting the door, she stalked back to the kitchen, her robe swishing angrily around her. “No!” she snapped when she found Jay already grabbing his helmet and shrugging on his jacket to make his hasty retreat. “Don't you dare!” she fumed, pointing at him.
“Uh-uh,” he shook his head in return, taking a last drag of his cigarette and stubbing it out in the dish on the table before stepping to the window and throwing it open. “No way am I sticking around now. Not with him in the next room. I value my ass in one piece, thank you.”
Rolling her eyes again, Lois heaved a sigh, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, for the love of... He's not gonna fry you to a crisp, Jay. Now get back in here and finish cooking breakfast. The eggs are getting burned.” Turning away in a swirl of pink silk, she headed back toward the study, calling over her shoulder, “I'll go deal with Clark.” Whether either of them would actually listen to her or not remained to be seen.
* * * * *
Standing amidst several partially filled boxes of random journalism awards and mementos, Clark tried desperately not to listen to anything that might be said in the kitchen and living room. He couldn't get his mind around the shock that Lois had had one very criminal ex-Robin in their - her - apartment. And by had, he realized there was no denying just what she'd done with him. The silk robe and mussed hair combination wasn't exactly a daily occurrence. Not to mention the stench of fresh cigarette smoke surrounding her. There hadn't been a pack of cigarettes in the apartment since before they were married, and she'd never smoked menthols.
The resulting mental images from the myriad of evidence refused to disappear from behind his eyelids, leaving him shuddering. God, I can't believe she...
“Something wrong?”
Jumping at the sudden voice behind him, he whirled to find Lois standing in the doorway, arms folded again. “I...” But he couldn't possibly finish that sentence. I know what you did with him. I can't believe you'd let a killer into our home. I can't believe you slept with Jason Todd, of all people! I can't believe I left you! I... I... At some point he realized he was gaping at her, a fish out of water and starving for oxygen.
“Whatever you're thinking, it's none of your business, Clark,” she said, seeming to have read his mind. “You need to finish getting your things together and go. I've got breakfast waiting for me, and I don't want it to get cold.”
“Seems like you've got other things waiting for you, too,” Clark spat without thinking, suddenly unable to rein in his hurt. Oh, shit...
“Excuse me!?” Lois's eyes narrowed to deadly slits, her shoulders squared to do battle. “Where exactly do you get off, huh? I caught you in bed, in bed!! With another man, and you have the balls to call me out on my choice of bed partners? Bullshit. You know what,” she held out a hand, palm forward to cut off whatever comment he was gathering. “Get out. Just grab whatever you have there, and get the hell out. You can come get the rest when I'm not home. And leave the key when you're done.”
“You know he's a murderer, Lois,” he called after her as she swept back out of the room and down the hall. “You can't trust him!” Holy crap, what am I saying!? She's gonna turn me into lunch meat! Grabbing the two smaller boxes swiftly, he followed her toward the door, almost crashing into her when she whirled on him in the foyer.
“So fucking what!?” she shouted at him, inches from his face, teeth bared and eyes blazing. “He could be Jack the fucking Ripper, for all I care, because you know what? He was here, not off screwing another Bat behind my back.” With that, she swung the door open again to dismiss him from the apartment.
Blood rushing in his ears from both her volume and his own sheer rage at the series of events that had brought them to this point, Clark swallowed what little pride he had left and stepped out into the hall. Banished.
* * * * *
In the kitchen, Jay finished scraping the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates just as he heard the door slam hard enough to rattle the windows in the living room. He couldn't help a wince at the exploding pain behind his eyes at the noise, but there was no way he could blame Lois for kicking Clark to the curb - again; he'd caught the murderer comment.
Fucking Boy Scout.
He waited for Lois to return for her breakfast, lighting another cigarette on the side, but when she didn't come back, he realized something was wrong.
Hmph. Probably went to stick pins in a Superman doll or some shit, he tried to rationalize, rising from the table and stepping around the kitchen island to go check on her. He wouldn't have put it past her, anyway, and would sure as hell cheer her on if she did.
What he didn't expect was to find her leaning against the door, palms flat against it and her head bowed. Oh, please don't tell me she's crying... he railed to himself. That was the last thing he needed to deal with this morning.
The sudden roar ripping from her throat cleared away that notion, however. Throwing her head back, she screamed with everything it seemed she had, the howl sounding more like that of a hungry Tyrannosaurus rex than a woman. Naturally, he cringed back, not daring to say a thing to announce his presence. Jeez, what have I gotten myself in the middle of, here!?
Knowing damn well it was past time to get the hell out of Dodge, he turned to head back to the living room. No point being used as target practice should Clark return. And no way in hell was he willing to come between them if it came down to it. What Lois had said about him being there... well, that was a little closer to the fray than he was comfortable being at the moment.
But dammit... Lois just didn't deserve what that bastard had done to her.
He paused with one hand gripping the edge of his helmet and the other on the window ledge. Breakfast was getting cold on the table. His second cigarette was burning down in the ash tray. Lois was still screaming her lungs out.
And he found himself wanting to stop the pain for her.
Shocking himself with his personal admission, he set his helmet on the coffee table again and stepped back to the hallway, Silently, he waited to see if it was safe for him to approach. Maybe she was right about that 'cougar' thing, he smirked.
But instead of calming down, she just screamed harder, louder, finally pounding on the door with her fists, kicking with bare feet, her hair and robe whipping around her. Her thrashing growing more violent, Jay wondered if she would tear him to shreds for having the audacity to still be in her apartment. But she had ordered him to stay, he reminded himself, keeping still and clenching his fists at his sides until it looked like her fit might be winding down.
Eventually, her screams devolved into wailing interspersed with curses that made Jay look like a saint, and she spun, flinging herself back against the door, fists digging into her eyes. “You fucking ass hole,” she finally declared, sliding down to the floor and landing with a thump, her legs splayed out to one side and her head cradled in her hands.
“Christ...” Jay swore, more to himself, finally peeling away from his spot in the hallway to kneel next to her. “Hey,” he started, smoothing her wild hair down with one hand.
Like a wounded animal, she snapped her head up and glared at him, tears marking their trails down her cheeks and throat.
“Whoa...” he drew his hand back instinctively at the daggers in her eyes and the sneer on her lips. “I... uh, sorry... I'm sorry. I didn't... I should go...” Hurriedly, he stood and moved to make his exit, his sense of self-preservation taking over.
“Wait,” she finally said, prompting him to turn again at the much weaker tone of her voice. “Please... don't go. I...”
And that was it. Self-preservation or not, no way he was walking out on the burned out mess that jack ass had left behind. He wasn't that cold. He wasn't Bruce. Not hearing anything else Lois might have said, he came back and offered her his hand, helping her up off the floor. “Come on, your eggs are getting cold.”
“Thanks, Jay. I really appreciate it,” she said softly as she stood and straightened her robe around her, before raising up on tiptoes and kissing him lightly on the cheek. “And I'm sorry for getting you involved in this.”
“No problem. And don't sweat it. I'm a dangerous killer, remember? I can handle Big Blue.”
“Smart ass,” she smirked at him, giving him a backhanded swat on the shoulder. With a shake of her head, she turned to head back to the kitchen.
After a moment left wishing he still had that huge stash of K, he followed.
* * * * *