[Oh God Oh God Oh God. Lois is SO VERY COLD! Oh, but look! A cabin in the woods. How convenient. She runs up to it, her entire body getting numb by the second. Pounding a fist on the wood of the door, she huddles into it to shield herself from the wind.]
[inside, huddled near a pathetically-small fire, is a bundle of scarves and a thick heavy coat, floppy brown hair and long limbs -- stirring and sitting up quickly, on alert.] Who - who's there? [Clay sounds apprehensive, but prepared. Unlikely as it was to get an intruder or two? He was set; fingers curling under his jean leg, where a knife was hitched into his belt.]
Lois -- [his voice sounds like he doesn't believe it, and well - he doesn't. Since he left the city, he'd been so careful not to see her, or call - and now -
He gets up, all but tripping over one long train of scarf as he presses hands to the hard wood door, shouting outside --] Okay -- the door's stuck so help me, okay? It's -- Clay. Clay Miller!
[She can't hear much over the wind, but she does manage to make out some faint shuffling. Thank God. Now please don't be a serial killer.]
What? I can't- I can't hear-
The door's jammed, I'm gonna push!
[She has no idea what he's saying in there, but goddammit she's cold. So she shoves her shoulder against the door as hard as she can, once, twice, before the door flings open and she stumbles inside, entirely off-balance.]
[he couldn't hear her so well, either - but it didn't matter in a few minutes when he had an armful of her sprung upon him with the force of the wind.] Whoa -- you okay? You're okay - hey! [recognition is in his eyes, and he searches hers as he straightens her to half-lay up on the floor, close to the fire. He kicks the door closed - the violent slam echoeing.]
[Attempting to gain her footing, she found herself stumbling into a wall of a man. Suddenly, she was on the floor, her entire body shaking from the cold as she looked up at....
In order, Lois - we have to get you warmer first. [his arms draw around her a little more, pulling her closer to the warmth of it. He frowns. To him, the more important question is what was she doing out here? This place was remote and abandoned. What better way to avoid the question than ask her?] Were you.. chasing a story?
W- Don't ch-change the s-subject. [She pouted, still stubborn despite the paralyzing cold. She shifted towards the fire, getting enough space to frown up at him.] You j... you just d..disappeared.
[Yes. Yes, she was still giving him shit despite the fact that frostbite was seriously imminent. And her entire body was shaking.]
So, you didn't get my letter. [he confirms, sighing. He tipped his chin to her head. They'd dicsuss this later... much later if he could help it. Right now he just wanted her warm.]
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Hello? Hello, is anybody in there??
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It's L- It's Lois! Lois Lane! C'mon, open up I'm f- freezing!!
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He gets up, all but tripping over one long train of scarf as he presses hands to the hard wood door, shouting outside --] Okay -- the door's stuck so help me, okay? It's -- Clay. Clay Miller!
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What? I can't- I can't hear-
The door's jammed, I'm gonna push!
[She has no idea what he's saying in there, but goddammit she's cold. So she shoves her shoulder against the door as hard as she can, once, twice, before the door flings open and she stumbles inside, entirely off-balance.]
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Oh.
Oh.]
C.... Clay?
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Wh... where the h-hell have you been?
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[Yes. Yes, she was still giving him shit despite the fact that frostbite was seriously imminent. And her entire body was shaking.]
D-doesn't matter. Answer the... question.
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[She shivered miserably, reluctantly huddling closer to him for warmth and pouting.]
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You wr... wrote me a letter?
Who even wr.. writes letters any...more?
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