{take this space above my head} (1/2)
TITLE: {take this space above my head}
FANDOM: Heroes/Smallville
SUMMARY: And there it was. Clark knew he shouldn’t have let Lois come down to New York to investigate Angela Petrelli’s death. Not that he had much choice in the matter--if only he had managed to turn down that woman with whom he now had a date. A double date, actually, because one Petrelli had also forged his own date with Lois.
CHARACTER(S): Clark Kent, Elle Bishop, Lois Lane, Peter Petrelli
GENRE: General/Romance
RATING: T
TIMELINE: A few years after S2 of Heroes, several years after S7 of Smallville. Don't question the timeline.
A/N: This one's for the awesome
retroblair. Her belated birthday gift (b/c I'm a terrible person like that!). This fic was going off her idea sometime in the future, Lois and Clark encounter Peter and Elle. Since this came out so long, it's been split into two parts. Okay, my first crossover, which was difficult, but the last part of the story I found easier...Enjoy.
~*~
He blames Lois. Of course, she says the blame is all on him--if he really wanted to turn that girl down, he would have, instead of stuttering. That notion is ridiculous, however, because Lois should know by now that he tends to get nervous once in awhile. Especially when women give him those predatory looks, with those low seductive voices.
“See, you did find her attractive!” Lois exclaims in a whisper as they walk from their car to the entrance of the restaurant.
“That’s not the point, Lois,” he grumbles.
They’ve been arguing about this from the moment he picked her up at her condo, through the car ride, and apparently right up until the second they’ll meet with their ‘dates.’
“You’re right,” she finally shrugs, which causes him to stop in his steps.
“I-I am?” rarely does she concede a fight, but when she does, there’s always some hidden agenda.
“Yes, you’re right. It doesn’t matter whether you’re attracted or not, because we are here to work. Remember Clark, you have to follow my lead. One way or another, tonight we are going to find out what the Petrelli’s are doing, and little Ms. Elle Bishop is the pretext of our investigation so don’t screw it up.”
And there it was. Clark knew he shouldn’t have let Lois come down to New York to investigate Angela Petrelli’s death. Not that he had much choice in the matter--if only he had managed to turn down that woman with whom he now had a date. A double date, actually, because one Petrelli had also forged his own date with Lois.
~*~
“Mr. Petrelli! Mr. Petrelli! Over here!”
Cameras flashed, light bulbs blinded them, people crowded them. More like machines intent on devouring them all for one quote.
But the sounds were muffled, words were incoherent, and time stood still. They couldn’t get out of the crowd fast enough. Unfortunately, when they did and they reached the inside of the building, it appeared as though a reporter or two had managed to squirm their way past the bodyguards.
“I’m sorry Ms. Lane but we have no time for your interrogation.”
Nathan Petrelli, recently orphaned son whose last piece of known family was the brother standing next to him, spoke in an exasperated tone and moved through the reporters.
Reporter Lois Lane of the Daily Planet turned on her heel and moved to follow him when a strong arm pulled her back.
“We’re going through a hard time--please just leave us alone,” the man who stopped her said in a pleading voice.
Lois clicked her tongue and turned back around to look at the man who dared to stop her.
“You must be Peter Petrelli. Your brother sure has praised you quite a bit,” she said with her hands on her hips and a tap of the foot.
“Lo-Lois, we should probably--”
“Shut it Smallville,” Lois cut off her partner and threw him a pointed look.
“Lois Lane is it?” Peter Petrelli began again.
“We’ve lost our mother--don’t you think we deserve some peace and quiet?”
Lois breathed in for a moment, and inspected him with a raised eyebrow. Her partner, Clark Kent, looked at Lois intently hoping she would give it a rest for a moment. Losing a family member was a difficult process, something he knew all too well, but Lois had insisted on hounding the Petrellis all the way down to New York.
Perry White, their editor, had of course adhered to her request, and Clark was not going to let Lois travel on her own, not when she had a knack of getting herself into trouble.
“Mr. Petrelli, I am not insensitive to your situation, in fact I sympathize. I realize you’ve only just lost your mother this week, but I’ve also lost my mother, and let me tell you, if she had died under the same mysterious circumstances as your mother, I would be right there trying to find out everything.”
“Is that so?”
A petite little blond made her way beside Peter Petrelli, a young woman whose gleam of mischief could be seen quite clearly from both Lois’ and Clark’s perspective.
She lifted her chin and rested her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow at the reporters, looking both of them up and down.
“So these mysterious circumstances--would they include there being little to no witnesses? It’d have to happen abruptly, with no big announcement on the death? Because the way I see it, most deaths occur exactly like that.”
Lois rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And you are?”
Peter Petrelli let out an exaggerated sigh and moved to stand in front of the small woman.
“It doesn’t matter--”
“Doesn’t matter?” she pushed him aside and strode to Lois.
“I’m Elle, Elle Bishop, and let’s just say I’m a security measure,” she raised her eyebrow in defiance, causing Lois’ irritation to grow.
“Yeah well, Ms. Bishop, I’m here to speak with the Petrellis not--”
But Elle had moved on by then, her curiosity having been taking by the other reporter, with the nice, tall built (hell, even she could tell that beneath his suit was a very muscular physique) and cute little glasses.
“And what’s your name, hot stuff?” she invaded his personal space and laid a hand on his bicep.
His shoulder muscle flinched, and he stared down at the woman, nervous of how openly she came onto to him.
“That’s Clark Kent,” Lois answered for him, but she never stopped from staring at Peter.
“So Mr. Petrelli, are you going to cooperate?”
But his attention was already elsewhere, as his eyes kept looking at Clark and Elle.
“So Clark, you work with this…Lois Lane?” she said her name with disgust.
“Y-yes,” he nodded, watching her hands wearily, hands that began stroking his forearms.
“And are you two…involved?”
Clark blinked and gulped, with his eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.
“Um--”
“No,” Lois turned her head and chuckled softly.
Clark inhaled deeply with her answer, and he confirmed it, ”No.”
“Elle, you should get going,” Peter spoke at last, and he cut across Lois to stand behind Elle.
“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport,” she whined, tilting her head slightly to eye him.
“Elle.”
Lois watched in amusement as Peter tried to tear Elle away from Clark, smirking at how obvious he wanted Elle nowhere near Clark.
“Fine,” the little blond spit out,” just one last thing.”
She turned to Clark, with a mischievous grin strewn across her lips.
“What do you say to a date, handsome?”
~*~
“I don’t understand why you had to ask him out?” Peter mumbles as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably.
They had arrived at the restaurant seven minutes ago, exactly on the dot for the reservation, something he miraculously accomplished by having Claire help Elle out with her outfit. Otherwise, Elle would have spent another hour fussing over her attire. Although now he wishes he wouldn’t have brought Claire into the equation, because the two appeared to concoct an outfit that would knock the sense out of any man whose gaze she caught.
She wore a lavender cocktail dress that stopped right above her knees, and was shaped in a v-neck formation, giving everyone an eyeful of her cleavage. Her hair came down in soft curls, and her makeup was subtle, almost natural, except for the dark eyeliner that outlines her eyes, which made her blue eyes look especially bright.
“He was cute, plus he looks harmless!” Elle explains to an annoyed Peter.
“Anyway, no one told you to come along,” she says with a jab to his his chest.
He doesn’t have some clever retort for that, and he even loses face for a second as his nose twitches and he turns his body away from her.
“Are you just going to ignore me now?” she hisses.
Sighing he turns to her, giving her a sharp eye.
“I came because…look, I just want to make sure you don’t let anything spill. Okay?”
“Big surprise, Mr. Peter Petrelli doesn’t trust me. You have to follow me around, stay on my back, interrogate any person who comes close to me, know where I am all…”
Peter rolls his eyes, and his hand forms in a small fist, hating all of those things she’s listing, unable to put all the reasons into place, and he thinks over how he got himself in this situation. A situation in which he would witness Elle on a date, while he was on one himself.
~*~
Reporter Clark Kent began stuttering when Elle asked him, and Peter had to do everything in his power to not pull Elle aside and hide her in the nearest closet, where this Clark Kent couldn’t see nor hear her.
Fortunately, he didn’t appear to be saying yes, but his partner interjected and accepted Elle’s claim.
“That’s a yes!” she yelled, and the reporter marched up to Clark.
“Wha--” he turned confused to Lois.
“What he means to say,” she chuckled, “ is wha…t about tonight, at eight pm?”
“Sounds good to me,” Elle smiled enthusiastically.
This infused Peter to act on a whim--”And you, Ms. Lois Lane, what is a woman as captivating as yourself doing tonight?”
This caught said Lois Lane off guard, and her grin fell to a frown as she stared at him.
“Why?” she asked, suspicious.
He shrugged, and gave her one of his sly smiles. “Just doesn’t seem fair that your partner gets to go out and enjoy himself with some nice…company, leaving you all alone.”
She scoffed. “I know how to enjoy myself, I can have fun on my own, and besides, it’s not like Clark adds or subtracts any fun to my life.”
Even she could feel the disappointed gaze Clark gave her.
“Well, maybe we should all go out--on a double date?”
Suddenly, Clark had found a voice and used it to make that suggestion, a suggestion that made Peter think the guy might as well have read his mind.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Peter prodded the idea on.
“I don’t know…”
“Lois,” received a sharp look from Clark, which made her own brain start churning.
“Alright, sounds good to me.”
~*~
This whole thing was a disaster waiting to happen. Peter can sense it, and that feeling increases tenfold when their dates come in and make their way to their table.
He watches Lois Lane expertly maneuver around the tables, as the dark, maroon dress she wears flows just below her knees.
It is tight around her waist, her curves accentuated by the elegantly simple dress, with her hair cascading around her shoulders.
“Her eyes are up there,” he hears Elle mutter, and he smirks because there’s a hint of jealousy behind her voice. Except, he shouldn’t be amused at that small hint.
He turns his head to Elle, who is now smiling at her date, and he looks in the direction her eyes are pointed.
He looks the same from earlier that evening, just a different suit, although the change isn’t all that noticeable. He still has those dark, slightly square rim glasses perched on his nose.
“Hello,” Lois greets them politely as Clark pulls her chair out for her.
Soon, they are all seated, looking over their menus, making small talk--the only sort of talk necessary as they wait for their food before it arrives. It is when everyone has finished eating that they glance between each other, awkwardly trying to conjure up something to say.
“So, Peter…you’re a nurse, right?”
“Hospice nurse,” Peter corrects Lois.
“Oh--well that must be a very fulfilling job. But I heard that you haven’t been…nursing anyone for some time now.”
And this was one reason Peter knew it was not best to leave Elle alone with a reporter. They would ask seemingly innocent questions, that could lead to a bit more detailed questions, and it all became this big messy chain.
“I’ve been traveling mostly, helping the family out with finances--”
“Right, your father left a bit of a mess behind and now that your mother's gone...”
“Lois,” Clark says in a warning tone.
She ignores him, though, and places her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her fist.
“How do you and Elle know each other, then?”
He noticeably tenses, and Lois hides a little smirk, knowing she’s digging at something he isn’t completely willing to grasp, much less is willing to share.
“Typical world-saving stuff,” Elle speaks up, in a detached matter, but Peter sends her a glare when she says that.
“Boring stuff, what I really want to know is how you look without those glasses,” Elle leans over the table and extends her arm to reach Clark’s glasses.
“Uh…” he mumbles as he pulls his head back.
“He’s real sensitive about those,” Lois eyes Elle with a cautionary glance.
“Do you ever let him speak for himself?” she drops her hand and shifts her body so she’s facing Lois.
“If he wanted to speak, he would,” Lois grits her teeth in frustration.
“Or maybe you’re a control freak, and he’s just used to you doing all the talking.”
“Are you calling me a control freak?”
“No, I’m talking to the invisible girl sitting next to you. Geez, get a freaking clue.”
“Oh, I’m supposed to be the one who needs a clue when this guy sitting right next to you obviously li--”
Lois is interrupted, and Peter is saved, at the last moment when Peter’s phone starts going off.
He grabs for his phone and when he sees who is calling him, makes a leap to answer it.
“Hello?”
Peter’s face contorts and he looks between the people at the table, but hardly speaks.
“Uh, huh…Yeah…Okay, see you then.”
He closes his phone and tucks it away into the pocket of slacks.
“Everything okay?” Lois looks at him conspicuously, having noticed the way he reacted to the phone call.
“Yeah, I just--would you excuse me for a moment?”
“Uh, sure,” Lois shrugs.
At her answer, Peter leans over and whispers something to Elle that causes her to pout and turn away, and he leaves the table.
Lois watches his path carefully, noting the way in which he is traveling and when he is out of their line of sight.
“Well, this is going great,” Lois comments.
“Yep,” Elle throws a fake smile her way then throws her attention back on Clark.
She snakes a hand across the table and inches her hands up his arm while biting her lip.
“You sure you’re just a reporter, Clark, because you sure aren’t built like one?”
Lois has to force herself not to roll her eyes and she bites back a groan. Instead she concentrates her eyes on the front door, which Peter went through, itching to leave and figure out why he’s out there.
She doesn’t know how many minutes she’s zoned out, concocting an excuse to step outside, when Clark begins mumbling something and saying he needs to go to the restroom for a moment. He doesn’t bother to hear Elle or Lois and he hastily makes off.
“What was that about?” Elle remarks more to herself than Lois.
“Don’t know…but it isn’t the first time he’s done it.”
Lois and Elle shrug and almost smile at each other, having found some sort of common ground, but they both quickly realize this and turn away from each other.
But within seconds something else catches both of their attentions when there is some loud commotion going on right outside the restaurant and even the customers are making their way outside.
Both women immediately follow suit and push through the forming crowd, until they are outside and are staring at…Superman?
--
Part II