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krysyuy
Title: Free Fall (10/?)
Author: Krys Yuy
Summary: Clark isn’t willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League
Warning: Spoilers up to Hex.
Rating: PG-13/T
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.
Dedication: drvr8, because you’re really too kind. Thanks for the wonderful encouragement.
Author’s Notes: A month+ between updates. Oi vey. After Chapter 9, I was working on a Divine Intervention challenge, Echoes – wherein instead of going to the future, Lois is sent to the past post-Doomsday and she meets a younger Clark. While a totally fulfilling experience for me, I sort of had fanfic burnout after that. And here we are now. This chapter, however, is nearly double my usual word count goal, so yay for longer chapter? Also, I still haven’t responded to reviews from Chapter 8 or 9. Please don’t be surprised if you get responses over the course of this week. I know it’s extremely late, but I hate leaving things unfinished (ironic, considering my track record with WIPs). I know I’ve said I wanted to finish this fanfic before the S9 premiere – obviously, that’s not going to happen. Sad. I hope you all still continue to enjoy the ride though. Remember to check out my LiveJournal sidebar and/or Twitter for status updates.
Okay! What to say about this chapter. This installment was always part of the plan because I adore the Daily Planet and Clark needed to spend a little time there. He’s seen a bit from the side of his superhero persona. Now it’s time to see the other side. I won’t be surprised if some of you get bored, though, but I cannot stress enough the importance of various things being laid out. It’s all going to get kicked into high gear in the next chapter, and what you’ve all been waiting for is fast approaching. Also, hope you enjoy the appearance of some DP characters. Jimmy gets a brief cameo – it would have been longer, but I nearly forgot to write him in. Blasphemy! My Perry White… is an amalgamation of all the versions I came across, though he is supposed to physically look like Michael McKean.
In other news, Free Fall won four awards at the Smallville Fanfic Awards at LiveJournal! It won Best Clark-centric, Best Use of the Justice League, Best “Future”, and Best WIP. I hope I can live up to these honors. Thank you to everyone who voted for me. Please leave a review if you are so inclined. It really helps. Thanks! :D
I cannot stress this enough – THANK YOU to my awesome reviewers and readers! I hope some of you are still sticking with me, even though I have update droughts. So, without further adieu, please read, review, and enjoy!
Chapter 10: Bullpen
Clark watched Lois as discreetly as he could from his seat behind the counter, glancing at her every so often as he scooped another spoonful of cereal. He quietly munched his simple breakfast – Lois had attempted to make a quick omelet, which turned more into a quick yellow blob of something not egg-like at all – and wondered what it was that was so different. Hair tied up in a simple bun, Lois moved around the kitchen, using one hand to put away the cereal and the items from her breakfast attempt. Her other hand held her trusty mug of coffee, the one thing she was always sure to get right.
He would have tried to fix their breakfast, but they had both woken up a little later due to their impromptu movie marathon. They didn’t have the time to indulge, so Clark chose cereal again. Lois went for the even simpler option of an apple. Their morning was relatively undisturbed, aside from the initial panic at waking up later than the norm, or so Lois had said. Clark didn’t know what their weekday ‘norm’ was supposed to be, aside from Lois’s quick rundown the morning before.
Clark decided to go with the flow rather than question it. Vague answers only led to more questions, anyway. He glanced at Lois again. She lifted the coffee mug to her mouth absentmindedly, her mind obviously on autopilot as she tidied up the kitchen. He would have thought she was lost in her worries again if not for the small smile that flitted across her lips at random instances.
Clark puzzled over this transformation. The other times he had caught her in a quiet moment, she was downcast and troubled. Now she seemed more at peace than perturbed. It was as if something had changed overnight.
“What?”
Clark started, locking eyes with Lois. She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. The content had fled from her expression to be replaced with curiosity. She leaned back against the kitchen island, taking another sip from her mug as she waited for his response.
“Nothing,” he replied automatically. Her eyebrow arched higher, prompting him to hesitantly add, “You look different.”
She looked down at her outfit, a white button-up blouse complete with long-sleeved black jacket and pencil skirt.
“Happier,” he clarified at her bemused countenance.
Lois paused. “It’s amazing what a full night’s rest will do,” she replied airily. “Haven’t had one of those in awhile.”
He gazed back incredulously. “We fell asleep at 2AM watching Back to the Future II,” he said. “You wanted to watch the third one to ‘complete the trilogy’, but we were both out before that happened.”
“Like I said. A good night’s rest.” She shrugged as she finished the rest of her needed dose of caffeine. She grabbed his bowl and glass without asking if he was done, and he let her take it. She dumped the dishes along with her mug in the sink to be washed later. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have one either.”
That was beside the point. Waking up with her in his arms had not been entirely unpleasant. Though he tried not to think about that. “A ‘full night’s rest’,” he repeated her earlier words, “does not begin at 2AM.”
“Pay attention. I said a ‘good night’s rest’,” she said. He didn’t bother to point out she had said “full night’s rest” first and she continued, “Besides, it’s a new day, Smallville. New day, new opportunities, new leads.” She clapped her hands once and walked through the kitchen archway, coming up to him as he swiveled around on the barstool.
“You’re being very… positive.” That sounded right. Kind of.
“Positive?” she echoed. “You mean my usual sunny and cheerful disposition?” She grabbed his glasses off the counter and slid them on, pushing them up his nose with her index finger.
Clark made a sound somewhere between a cough and a snort.
Lois paused briefly in smoothing out the lines of his black suit. She glared at him and dusted off his shoulders harder than necessary. He cracked a smile, however, when he spotted the slight twinkle in her eye as she continued to adjust his outfit. But then his smile turned a bit perplexed when Lois hesitated at his necktie. He looked down. The pinstriped dark blue tie he had chosen from his future self’s collection sat straight and neat against his white button-down dress shirt. He didn’t see what was wrong.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
Lois blinked, looking up at him and back at his tie. She adjusted the knot even though it was perfectly straight. “Your neck tying skills have improved,” she commented.
“Not really,” he replied without thinking. “It took me several minutes to get this right this morning.” He shrugged and brushed the front of his dress shirt as Lois’s arms returned to her side. “Getting a little better every day, though.”
Lois nodded, and he almost missed the smile that darted across her face again before her expression smoothed over to something more neutral. “Time to go, or Perry will have our heads. He wants another update on our articles,” she said.
The mystery behind Lois’s smiles was put on the backburner as a more pressing issue returned to the forefront of his mind. “Perhaps I- I mean, he- should take a sick day?” he suggested. Going to the Daily Planet on a workday spelled all kinds of trouble, especially if he wanted to keep his promise.
“You want to stay cooped up here all day?” she replied.
Well, he wasn’t planning on that. “I thought I would patrol again,” he retorted, crossing his arms.
She gave his cheek a good poke and he belatedly realized he had been pouting. “There’s a reason you have a day job,” she said. “Besides, Clark can’t afford to miss work right now. If you don’t come to Perry, I can guarantee he will be coming to you.” Off his questioning look, she explained, “The deadline for the article is this week.”
Clark tried to quell the sudden rising panic in his chest. “I don’t even know what it is!” he exclaimed. Aside from Lois’s generalized reference the day before, he really had no idea. Something about power plants in the Philippines. Was he expected to finish it? How far had his future self even gotten? And did this mean he covered international stories now? Was that a result of his elevated status at the Planet?
Despite his many questions, Clark briefly acknowledged the streak of satisfaction at the back of his mind. He had definitely risen from lowly intern.
Lois was oblivious to his internal freak-out as she walked over to the living area and started rummaging around the couch for something. “Look, all you have to do is sit at Clark’s – your¬ – desk and look pretty.”
He wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or not. “So do nothing,” he concluded flatly.
“No,” she replied, lifting up cushions and putting them back. “Put on a show for the Chief so it looks like you’re working.”
“Or I could actually work.”
Lois did not react as he expected. “If you want,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Ah!” She removed her hand from the side of the couch to reveal her cell phone, what looked to be the latest version of the Blackberry. The next thing he knew, she tucked it somewhere on her person, but he couldn’t tell where, because though her outfit was professional, it highlighted her natural curves and there didn’t seem to be any room for her to hide anything at all.
His eyes abruptly jerked back to her face. There will be no thinking of curves. Of any type. Whatsoever.
He forced his mind back to Lois’s flippant reaction. Working on the article meant finding out something about the future. He would have to look through his future self’s notes, use the computer. Accessing the Daily Planet database was a temptation he wasn’t sure he could refuse.
Lois was ejecting the DVD from the player and placing the disc back in its slim casing. She held Back to the Future and its sequel in one hand, her gaze roaming over the titles fleetingly. “Way off base,” she murmured to herself, so hushed that if he had been human, he wouldn’t have heard her at all.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that was supposed to mean and brushed it off. There were more important things to address. “Is it okay if I work?” he asked, and then worried if that had been the right wording at all. And why was he phrasing it like he needed her permission?
Because you don’t want to do something that would disappoint her.
Clark saw his Lois, wet and disheveled from the rain the first time around, her frustration melting into weary resignation.
“Look, I get it. You have other things on your mind. I don’t expect to be the person at the top of your priority list.”
Clark had no time to feel guilty, not when future Lois responded, “I’m not your warden, Smallville.”
He was genuinely trying to be good about following the rules – however vague those rules were for someone stranded in one’s own future. He was being particularly careful with the rule concerning knowing too much about one’s fate. He remembered how adamant she had been about Chloe. “You said –”
“I know what I said,” she interrupted. She returned the DVDs to their designated spot in the bookcase next to the television. “And I also know what I didn’t say.”
Lois turned back to him, crossing her arms, and he could only stare back, confused. Thinking back to his first night in the future, he recalled that she had never asked him to make his promise. Did this mean she was giving him the green light to snoop?
‘Snoop’? I’ve really been hanging around Lois too long.
Clark Kent did not snoop. He investigated. He only snooped when he was dragged along for the ride.
“I appreciate you being so very eagle scout about your promise. I stand by what I said, but it’s a new day.”
A new day. Why did she keep repeating that?
“If Dark-and-Brooding had his way, he’d cut you off completely. But as long as you’re not trying to memorize every world disaster or looking up your future saves as Superman–” Or trying to find out about Chloe, he mentally filled in for her. “– it’s okay.” She tilted her head. “Are we on the same wavelength?”
“… I guess.” He felt a little unsure, like he was missing something.
Lois looked him up and down, and then shook her head. “Only you.” She came up beside him on the other side of the couch and patted his shoulder. He assumed it was supposed to be reassurance of some kind, but he still caught the smallest of frowns when it crossed her face for a split-second. Then she faced him again, exasperated yet fond all at once, hints of a frown gone.
“Look, if you go to the Planet with me, are you going to ditch the article and look up everything you can about the future?” she asked.
He made a face. “No! Of course not.”
“Then there’s no problem,” she stated. She made it sound so simple. Or he was making it harder than it had to be.
Clark weighed the situation in his head. He wanted to tread lightly, but then results would be slower to come. Second guessing everything wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Right,” he agreed. “No problem.”
Lois glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed under her breath. “At the rate we’re going, you’re gonna have to give me a lift to work,” she said, walking out to the hallway closet. “Our morning walk-slash-commute is going to take too long now.” She opened the door and reached in, pulling out two black coats.
“Thanks,” he said quietly, accepting the cotton overcoat she handed to him. It was about a three-quarter length, double-breasted with round buttons and looked nothing like something he would have picked for himself.
He slipped it on regardless, though something about his expression must have given him away because Lois laughed as she put on her own stylish peacoat. “Sometimes the price of having rich friends is that they give you nice things,” she teased. “I dare you to guess who.”
Clark only had one rich friend. Unless he was supposed to add Bruce to the short list. “I’d rather not.”
Lois smoothed over the lapels of his outer coat, grabbed her purse off the hallway table and then hooked her arms around his neck. Had she always been so touchy-feely in the past? Flashes of his Lois placing her hand on his chest flared in his memories, and he shook his head, banishing them from his mind. But he knew they wouldn’t be far.
“Spoilsport.” Her hold on him tightened. “If you don’t get your tight butt in gear, I can’t be held responsible if Perry gives us the late lecture.”
Perry. That name again. Something niggled at his memory, but he couldn’t quite place it. Mentally shrugging, he bent down and in one smooth move, picked Lois up with an arm fixed behind her back and another under her knees.
Clark wondered when it had started to become so natural – the feel of her in his arms.
Like all other times prior, Clark quickly diverted his train of thought. He wasn’t ready to open that door all the way, nor was he ready to face the ledge forming in his mind.
Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Lois open her mouth – no doubt ready with a sharp prompting – and he tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement, cutting her off. He held her close and told himself it was for no other reason than to keep her secured.
“Hold on tight.”
Clark wasn’t sure if he was talking to Lois or himself.
–
The burst of sound that greeted Clark as he followed the small crowd out of the elevator surprised him enough that he paused at the opening and Lois had to pull him with her. She led him to the railing of the platform that overlooked the entire floor. He tried not to gape.
The quiet newsroom he had visited two nights prior was transformed in the weekday morning light. He had thought it had been impressive then, with its wide-open space and square clusters of desks arranged in varying sections and rows. But it was more than that.
He should have been used to it. The basement had its fair share of frantic employees fluttering here and there, papers taken and replaced from the ‘in’ and ‘out’ stacked trays nonstop. Even a low-ranking intern like him had piles of work, though his dealt mostly with the stray obituary or announcement, or simply proofreading the mildest of stuff.
Interns didn’t work on this floor.
Though the hour was early, reporters already filled the air with their chatter and the speedy clacking of their keyboards. Some were scurrying from desk to desk, papers and notepads clutched in their hands, while others disappeared and reappeared behind the hallways at the corners of the room – where they led, Clark had no idea. From his vantage point, there was only one private office in the very back, placed directly in the wall opposite the elevators. Next to the office was a large conference room.
The ceiling to floor windows making up the walls of the newsroom revealed the brilliant Metropolis view bathed in the golds and reds of the sunrise – a perfect background for where the award-winning newspaper came together. The floor was a flurry of activity, mirroring the basement, and yet, it was an entirely different and charged atmosphere.
Excitement eclipsed his apprehension.
This was the kind of chaos that Clark, in his time, had just started to realize he loved.
“Intimidated, Smallville?”
Clark glanced at Lois, frowning, but glimpsed the sparkle in her eye. He scoffed, pretending to be more irritated than he was. “Hardly.”
An amused smile lit her face as she gazed at him. “Welcome to the Daily Planet bullpen,” she said, turning and heading down the small set of stairs that led to the main floor.
The reflexive ‘thanks’ died on his lips with her next words and he rolled his eyes.
“Try not to trip.”
–
The animation of the spinning Daily Planet globe – an updated 2015 version – appeared again on the computer screen after minutes of idling and Clark staring at it blankly.
He leaned to the side in his chair and spied Lois’s bent head. She was scribbling on a piece of paper. He moved back in front of the monitor and gave his mouse a little push so that the screen saver vanished once more. The login screen taunted him with its blue background and blinking cursor in the empty password slot.
The username section was already helpfully filled in by ‘Clark Kent’. Easy enough. At least the computers seemed to work the same as the one he used in the basement. Except his password had changed some time in his missing six years.
‘Shelby’ didn’t work anymore. The password hint wasn’t any help either. All it said was ‘A Favorite First Day’.
The first day he started working at the Planet was a bust. Same as his first official practice as part of the Smallville Crows football team. The first time his dad took him out on the tractor didn’t work either – the only reason he remembered the date was his mom had written it in an entry by a photo. He lost count of how many times he had turned the pages of that scrapbook.
On a whim, he typed in ‘JonathanKent’, though he wasn’t surprised when that failed, too. His father’s name wasn’t a date, but Clark felt like he was running out of options. Was it sad that he couldn’t remember favorite first days? Whatever that meant.
His future self could have been referring to any number of things. A favorite first day of… what? Work? School? Or maybe the day of a favorite first… date? Game? Or! The first day of a favorite… No, maybe it was a favorite day of a first…
I’m going crazy.
Clark hung his head in his hands. Rearranging the words of the hint in any which way wasn’t helping. Noun modifiers equal headache. I’m over thinking it.
Wasn’t he supposed to be able to understand himself? Granted, his future self was six years older, but still. They were one and the same, he and him. Yet, it felt like he was light-years behind.
I am not going to get frustrated over a password!
This time Clark peeked over his screen to see Lois rearranging different pieces of papers side by side on the flat surface of her desk, the part perpendicular to the connecting surface where her computer lay. The L shape of the desk worked for her. She used all the space available, and even had to push all the other documents littering the surface to the side.
Lois twirled a red pen between her left fingers as she studied the notes in front of her. Her eyes were narrowed and her teeth bit just so into her bottom lip – a sign that she was piecing together the elements of a very elaborate puzzle. The kind of puzzle she really enjoyed. An article.
“Lois?”
She checked the notepad she had in her lap and moved a piece of paper all the way to the left, at the beginning of the row.
“Lois?”
She waved at him like she was swatting at a bug, as if it was he and not the buzzing newsroom that was louder.
Clark briefly considered rolling up a wad of paper and tossing it at her head. He cracked a smile at the thought, but knew that wouldn’t really help him. He tried one more time. “Lois,” he called, knocking on the wooden partition between their workstations.
Her eyes flickered to him, then back to her puzzle. “Hmm?”
He decided not to beat around the bush. “Do you know the password to his account?” he asked. He made sure to keep his voice low, heedful of their surrounding neighbors.
“I never said it would be easy,” she replied. She flashed a mischievous smile.
He frowned and sighed at the same time.
“Kent!”
Clark jumped. He looked around at the faces milling about.
“In my office!”
Clark turned to the left just in time to see the door to the only private office on the floor close. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and stood up.
Lois was already on her feet and passing by his desk on the other side of their shared T-shaped cubicle. “Not you, handsome,” she said, winking. “He’s talking to me.”
Lois Lane-Kent.
It still sent a certain thrill through him. He shook his head. “How can you tell?”
She smiled. “Let’s leave it a mystery,” she replied. “Makes things more interesting.” She carried a notepad in her hand and a pen behind her ear as she navigated her way through the maze of desks.
Clark bit back a comment about the future already having enough mysteries – it didn’t need one more – and watched her until she passed through the office door. He heard a “Yes, Chief?” before the door closed and he resisted the urge to listen in.
Sighing, his eyes fell on the bottom drawer of his desk, the only one with a lock. Curious, he pulled at it, but it didn’t budge. He didn’t expect anything less, though. He would never forget to lock away sensitive data. Since he had no idea where his future self had stashed the key, that left the easy way. Looking around subtly, Clark rolled his chair in front of the drawer. He confirmed that everyone else was preoccupied before pulling at the drawer again. When he felt the resistance of the lock, he applied just the right amount of pressure for it to break as noiselessly as possible.
Clark heard the faint clunk of the lock as the inner portion fell and broke away from the whole. Then he opened the drawer easily with the small exertion a human would use. The drawer turned out to be a hanging file cabinet. Several of the tabs were filled and marked with his handwriting.
Clark browsed through them at normal speed – some labels were dates, others places or people, and a few were just initials and numbers. ‘MNL – Plants (?)’ caught his eye and he took out the folder. He knew MNL stood for Manila and he recalled Lois saying that his current article had to do with the Philippines and something about power plants. Oliver had also said something about the Philippines, but instead of power plants, his friend had used the words ‘experiment facilities’.
He gripped the folder. This has to be it. Clark gave the contents a quick once-over before he placed it on the flat surface of his desk adjacent to his computer space. He was about to shut the cabinet when he noticed the gap at the back of the drawer.
Clark pushed all the hanging file folders towards the front, so as to leave the back of the cabinet open and clear. There was a small box and a white envelope, smaller than legal size but larger than the office ones the Planet tended to use. Both items were unmarked.
He was about to reach in when another shout made him shut the drawer instead.
“Kent!”
Clark leapt to his feet and this time he knew to look straight towards the private office. The door was already swinging closed and Clark assumed he was expected to follow. Following Lois’s lead, he grabbed a notepad and pen and hurried over, pushing past other employees.
“Hey, Clark.”
A woman with cropped blonde hair winked at him from her desk as he passed her. She gave a little wave with her fingers.
“Uh, hi,” he replied, not knowing what else to say. He continued on his way, faster than before, but his nerves rocketed once his hand closed around the gold doorknob.
Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and entered the room. “Sorry –” He looked up and his eyes widened. “– Mr. White!”
Now he remembered why the name Perry sounded so familiar. Perry White was someone Clark had hoped would find his way. Though the older man had tried to expose him, Clark knew he was a good person. And he had certainly risen above and beyond his discredited reputation, if his ‘Editor-in-Chief’ plaque said anything.
Perry looked the same physically, with his light brown hair and stern features, though his hairline might have receded a couple more centimeters. There were also a few added wrinkles here and there. He looked like he belonged though, right behind his dark cherry wood desk, surrounded by papers, books, and files. His suit jacket was off and his dress shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, but he was clean-shaven and much more professional looking than five – technically, eleven – years ago.
Perry also seemed very comfortable… staring him down.
Clark fidgeted, unsure if he was supposed to sit or stand, though he noted Lois sat in a wooden chair just out of arm’s reach.
Perry spoke before Clark could decide on a course of action, obviously puzzled by Clark’s exclamation. “Sorry for what?” he asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’m not giving you another extension on your article! I need a Lane-and-Kent piece for the paper. Or pieces, in this case.” He leaned forward in his rolling chair, one elbow on his desk. “And don’t call me mister.”
Clark nodded, not really trusting himself to speak.
“So, what do you have for me, son?” Perry clasped his hands together on top of his paperwork.
The upside of confessing to Lois and the Justice League was not having to scramble and act like he knew what he was talking about. He was not overjoyed to do it again. He thought of everything he had gleaned about the article.
“... Perry held the morning staff meeting and we updated him on the status of our articles. Your- his with the power plants in the Philippines…”
“Well, the power plants definitely… aren’t what they’re reported to be,” he began lamely. Even though he wasn’t looking at her, he knew Lois had to be shaking her head. But Clark was too busy feeling the weight of Perry’s gaze.
“Those experiment facilities would be easier to take down with him.”
“They’re experiment facilities,” Clark continued, using Bruce’s words. The few scribbled sentences and words he had garnered from his future self’s first page of notes came to him.
Drugs. Testing. Shell companies. Targets… orphans. Not MH.
Clark pieced it together in his head, half-guessing and the other half going on instinct. He could feel the urge to find out more pouring through him, demanding that he discover the truth behind the dark mystery even as he pretended he knew the details.
“The companies are a front for drug testing,” he continued. “They’re targeting orphans.”
“Orphans?” Perry prompted.
Clark knew the answer and it sickened him. “No one is going to look for them.”
Lois reached out with her hand and he wordlessly placed his palm in hers. Her smile was small and comforting as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Somehow Clark knew she would have held on longer if they weren’t in the presence of their boss.
Perry went on as if he hadn’t witnessed their brief moment. “The party responsible?”
There had been no specifics in his future self’s notes. “I’m... following some leads.” It wasn’t exactly a lie – all the clues pointed to his future self pursuing the mystery both as a reporter and a hero. Clark didn’t know how long he could keep grasping at straws, though.
Lois seemed to sense it as well and took hold of the conversation. “Sounds like he’s on the right track, huh Chief?”
“Well, he’s on something.” Perry gave him an assessing look. “Show me the results this week.”
Without thinking, Clark immediately replied, “Of course.” Then he almost wanted to smack his forehead. He had just agreed to write an article he knew only the bare details of. Or he had given his future self a really short deadline.
“The same goes for you, Lois,” Perry said, switching his gaze over to her. Clark felt his nervousness lessen a bit. “I trust your instincts, but I need something concrete about the supposed connection between these bank heists. A hunch isn’t anything until you can find the evidence to back it up. Until then, it’s just an opinion. Not news.”
Lois pursed her lips. “And everything I put in print is news gold. This is big.” She stood up from her chair. “Just make sure there’s an empty spot on the front page, Chief.” She headed out the door.
“Don’t call me Chief!” Perry called after her, exasperated and faintly amused all at once.
Clark’s eyes followed Lois briefly as she made her way back to her desk. He glanced back at Perry, but the older man was already circling and crossing out a draft with red ink. A cue to leave then.
Perry didn’t look up as he said, “Friday, Kent.”
“Yes, Chief,” Clark replied instantly before he exited the room, but not before hearing Perry’s displeased mutter about no one listening to his ‘no Chief’ comments. Clark walked to his workstation, taking a different route, and tossed the notepad and pen he hadn’t used on the desk’s surface. “What now?”
Lois was already at work, simultaneously making notes and typing on her keyboard. She said, “I don’t know about you, Smallville, but I have an article to write and a wayward source to track down.” She picked up her phone receiver and placed it between her ear and shoulder as she started punching in numbers.
Clark watched her for a moment and picked up the folder he left on his desk. He sat down in his swivel chair as he regarded it carefully. Taking a deep breath, Clark opened the folder and started reading.
–
An hour later, Clark was still immersed in his future self’s notes, the hum of the bullpen blending together as background noise. If he was reading things right, his future self was onto something big. But his written notes were incomplete. It made Clark want access even more to his Daily Planet computer account. His tech skills weren’t exactly up to par, and he suddenly wished Chloe was there to work her magic.
Before his thoughts could stray further to the mysterious circumstances surrounding his best friend’s situation, Lois’s voice rose and invaded his quiet contemplation.
“I know that Superman intercepted all of the robberies, but it’s strange they keep trying, don’t you think?”
Clark turned his head to the right and looked over the wooden divider. Lois was scowling at her bulletin board that hung over the surface of her desk. It was half corkboard and half white board, covered with notes and scribbles, but with the way Lois was glaring, he was surprised the entire thing wasn’t going up in flames.
“Yes, they are connected!” she exclaimed, drawing the attention of nearby employees. Some glanced at her uneasily; others went back to work as if this were an everyday occurrence. Clark wouldn’t have been surprised if it was.
Lois went on, “Well, no, the police haven’t released an official statement, but that doesn’t necessarily mean –” She took a deep breath and visibly tried to calm herself. “May I please get a quote on the Mayor’s thoughts regarding this recent string of burglaries?”
The red pen she had been twirling between her fingers stopped. “So the Mayor has no comment on the ongoing crime spree happening on the outskirts of his city? I’m sure his constituents would love that.” She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not threatening the Mayor! Criticizing.”
Clark didn’t particularly envy the faceless person on the other end of the line as Lois’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. I’ll be sure to visit in person,” she said. “Soon.”
Lois slammed the receiver down in her frustration. “Uncouth lackeys,” she muttered. She swept her long bangs away from her forehead as she crossed a name off her list. Clark was still staring at her, which allowed him to witness the moment she noticed a few of her co-workers gaping.
“What?” she barked. They immediately scurried away.
“Lois…” Clark started, but shut his mouth as her intense gaze landed on him. He recognized a bad mood when he saw one.
Lois raised an eyebrow silently.
“I’ll… just…” He pointed to his notes and ducked his head. A few seconds passed before he chanced another glimpse over their cubicle walls.
Lois’s eyebrows were knit together as she stared at her notes. He craned his neck and noticed they were four addresses, all locations on the fringes of Metropolis’s border. She held up her pen and gnawed at the end of it absentmindedly.
A tiny smile formed on his lips and he gave his head a little shake. Lois thrived on the energy of the Daily Planet newsroom. No one could match her focus when it came to the pursuit of a story. It was an indication of how some things would never change.
Affection rose inside him and unlike previous times, he let it flow through him. Lois was his friend, after all. It was completely innocent to feel this way. He stoutly ignored the little voice in his head; the same voice that had asked him why he walked away from her.
That night already seemed like eons ago.
Clark tore his eyes away from her and focused on the notes spread in front of him. While there was a wealth of information, his future self had been sure not to mention specific details. There were no names, only abbreviations and what Clark had to assume were code words.
From what he could gather, illegal experiment facilities were operating overseas and masquerading as a power plant company. Its main base was in the Philippines, but there were several other branches, five in total, all across Asia and one in South America. They were testing some kind of strength-enhancing drug. They were using regular humans – orphans – as their lab rats.
The idea nauseated him.
Weeks ago, his future self had come across a group of thugs, thugs with strength surpassing that of an average human. They were strong, but not strong enough to overpower him. He had found three syringes in one of their pockets. The mysterious liquid had been the spark for his future counterpart’s investigation.
His future self had already written a rough draft. The ending was missing and the spots with specifics had capitalized abbreviations. Clark took that to mean he planned on filling it in later. Not to mention the entire draft was written in shorthand. His future counterpart seemed to have set precautions for himself in case his article fell into the wrong hands.
Clark, however, was able to decipher the shorthand easily. It was the abbreviations that stumped him. He was relieved, though, that he didn’t have to write the article from scratch. If he had to write it at all.
This article was serious business. The kind he only dreamed of writing back in his time. Because while he could admit to being focused on his identity as the Red-Blue Blur, there was something about being in the middle of the action but still behind the scenes. Before Lois had approached him with an intern application to the Daily Planet, he had never seriously considered a career in journalism. The idea had perhaps skittered across his mind, especially during his sporadic time at the Torch, but it never really stuck.
It wasn’t until he was in the midst of it all, across the desk from one of his best friends, that he realized he liked being a reporter. Okay, well, he wasn’t an official reporter yet, but he planned on working his way up from intern or, as Lois so lovingly reminded him time and again, ‘copy boy’. He wrote articles but they usually never made it to print or they were way in the back of the paper in some tiny corner of the layout. That was what happened when one wrote mostly fluff pieces.
The first article he was particularly proud of, though, was the one he wrote about Linda Lake and her murders. Back in his time, it was going to be published in the morning edition, according to Randall Brady. Clark supposed he could find out now and dig up an old copy in of the Daily Planet archives, but there was something to be said about the element of surprise. It would be a kind of reward when he finally returned to his rightful place in time.
His eyes roved over the meticulous notes of what would be the foundation of his article. One day, the notes would make complete sense to him. But right now, he didn’t feel right using someone else’s hard work. Besides, he didn’t know all the facts and that was definitely a step in the wrong direction.
Clark closed the manila folder and sat back in his chair. He blew out a breath, ruffling his bangs. The chatter of nearby DP workers was a mere buzz in the back of his head. His gaze strayed to the bulletin board on his cubicle wall. Dates and appointments were written neatly on the white board half, but the corkboard half had pictures and older articles. His eyes passed over a picture of his future self embracing Lois from behind, their expressions laughing and carefree; instead, he focused on the bylines. Looking at each cut-out article, ‘Reported by’ was followed by one of three variations: Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Clark Kent, or Lois Lane-Kent and Clark Kent.
Clark knew there was significance to each and every article his future counterpart had pinned to the board, but he was careful to not read the headlines. Somehow, he understood this was only the tip of the iceberg to the number of articles he had written by himself or with Lois.
He felt pride well up inside him. His days as an intern would pass, and he would become a successful journalist, one of the Daily Planet’s top reporters. Seeking truth and finding justice in a way outside of his hero persona.
This was different than saving lives.
But, Clark thought as his gaze roamed over the articles he would one day pen, just as fulfilling.
–
Clark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he rushed back to his desk, tugging at the lapels of his business jacket. At the same moment he was about to reach his workstation, Lois placed the phone receiver back in its cradle, turned around and caught him by his jacket sleeve.
“Hold your horses, Smallville,” she said, standing up. She then went about straightening his suit and tie like she had earlier that morning. She murmured, low enough so only he could hear, “Where’d you run off to? Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he replied just as quietly. He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear, ensuring no one else could listen in. “I intercepted another bank robbery.”
She pulled back and her face was a breath away from his. His heart rate picked up, but she was focused on his eyes. “Again? What was the name of the bank?” she asked.
“Rochester,” he answered, taking a step back. Space. Space is good. He dusted off his shoulders and adjusted his shirt. He felt like everyone could see past his layer of clothing and at the red and blue suit he wore underneath. How the cape didn’t bunch at his back, he didn’t know.
Lois smoothed over the wrinkles on his shirt, her mind obviously elsewhere as she stared at his tie and bit her lip. “What were they wearing?” she asked.
“Wearing?”
“Anything out of the ordinary?” she elaborated.
“They dressed all in black,” he replied, though there had been something peculiar about their uniform ensemble. “But they did have on heavy stage makeup. And –”
Lois’s cell buzzed on her desk, the screen lighting up. She held up her index finger. “Hold that thought,” she said. She turned away from him to check her text messages, and her following groan of frustration told him it wasn’t good. She quickly dialed a number and put the cell to her ear.
“Answer, answer,” she muttered to herself. “Answer, you little weasel.”
One of Clark’s eyebrows rose as he looked at her back, bemused.
After a few seconds, the person on the other end seemed to decide that it was better to deal with Lois than ignore her and face her wrath later. She immediately snapped, “What do you mean you’ll get back to me? You said you’d have the name by today!”
“C.K.!”
Clark left Lois to her conversation as he turned and saw Jimmy walking toward him from the left side of the room. “Hey, Jimmy,” he said, nodding.
His friend adjusted the camera around his neck and spied Lois’s stormy expression as she turned slightly to the side. “Ooo,” he said, wincing. “Who’s in trouble today?”
“No idea,” Clark replied. “Though it might be a source.” In his time, Lois had just begun to build her connections amongst the more shady types of Metropolis, something he didn’t like one bit. That thought made him frown as he spared another glance at her future self.
Jimmy was oblivious to his friend’s contemplation and commented, “Well, I’m glad I’m not him.” He shook his head and turned his attention on Clark, patting his shoulder. “So, ready for the charity ball tonight?”
No one said anything about a charity ball. “What?” he asked brilliantly.
Jimmy took his confused tone as being puzzled over something else entirely. “Cole’s out sick today, so I have to fill in for him,” he explained. “Though I don’t mind shooting for the Society pages. It means a couple free flutes of champagne are in the mix.” He turned thoughtful. “Too bad I can’t bring Kara.”
The charity ball was suddenly the least of his queries. “Kara?” he parroted, eyes wide. His cousin was back? Was she all right? He wanted to inquire after her well-being, but checked himself in time. Someone called out to him and he was grateful for the distraction.
“See you tonight, Clark.”
He turned to find a woman in a short black miniskirt and tight purple blouse smiling at him. He blinked, wondering who she was, before he realized it was the same woman with the cropped blonde hair from earlier. She completely ignored Jimmy’s greeting as she sauntered up to him.
“Uh…” He took a step back from her.
A muttered “shit” sounded behind him and there was a clatter, which Clark assumed was Lois’s cell hitting her desk. Then she was at his side, glaring at the woman and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Hands off, Cat,” she said.
Cat wasn’t perturbed. If anything, she seemed amused. “Don’t be so greedy,” she replied. She gave Clark a slow once-over and he tried not to fidget too visibly. “Something this delish needs to be shared.”
Lois made a shooing motion with her left hand. “Scram or you’re on your own at the Black and White charity tonight,” she threatened. She lifted her thumb and index finger, putting a little space in between. “We’re this close.”
Cat didn’t buy it. “Please. You’re going. The mayor’s going to be there,” she said nonchalantly.
Lois didn’t bother denying it. “You should leave or you won’t have enough time to put on your face.”
“As opposed to what you slap on every morning?” Cat smirked and reached out to him, but Lois grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t make me slap you,” Lois muttered, squeezing her wrist before flinging it away.
Cat glared at her, but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the effort. She winked at Clark. “See you, pretty boy. I can’t wait to see you in your tux.” She waved her fingers as she walked towards the elevators, making sure to swing her hips.
“I will slap her one of these days,” Lois stated, mostly to herself as she watched Cat go.
Jimmy piped up, “But didn’t you already –”
“She slapped me first!” Lois cried.
O-kay. Clark cleared his throat. “Should we head home? We need to get ready for the charity.” He met Lois’s gaze meaningfully, wondering if he could actually communicate his thoughts through a glance.
Lois’s eyes widened as she glanced at Jimmy before she schooled her expression. “Right. I still need to figure out what to wear,” she said casually. She walked back to her desk and tossed some things into her purse. “See you tonight, Jimmy.”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “See you.” He nodded at Clark with a friendly smile. “Bye, C.K.”
“Bye.” Clark resisted the desire to ask about Kara and why she was hanging around Jimmy. He watched his photographer friend walk down the row of desks before heading for the hallway placed at the left corner of the bullpen’s layout, back by the wall where the elevators were located. He felt it when Lois returned to his side.
“Perry gave the assignment to us last week when he found out Bruce had RSVPed,” she explained. “We’re the DP connection to him. Perry wants a few quotes, some good publicity for the paper, etc.”
“Doesn’t sound very exciting,” he replied truthfully. He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing Bruce again either.
“Schmoozing among the upper class can get a little tiring,” Lois agreed. She grabbed his overcoat off the coat rack that was part of the middle divider of their cubicles and handed it to him. She slipped on her coat as he did the same. “But it comes with the job.”
“I didn’t realize journalists schmooze,” Clark replied as he followed Lois to the elevators.
“Rule number 3,” Lois reminded him.
Do whatever it takes to get the story.
The rule that always led to trouble. Clark sighed. “Just don’t leave me alone with Bruce,” he said.
“Why?” Lois asked, pressing the down button. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Afraid he’s going to punch you?”
“No.” The elevator dinged and Clark waited for Lois to go in first before he followed her. “I might get the tiniest urge to punch him.”
–
“Ready, Smallville?” Lois called from the hallway.
Clark came out of the spare bedroom, fiddling with his cuff links. Why did he have such a problem with these little things? “I think so,” he said. He turned, looked up, and froze.
“So?” She held out her arms slightly to the side and did one complete turn. “What do you think?”
Lois wore a strapless silk gown of dark blue, so dark that it could be mistaken for black if not for its reflected color in the light. Material flowed from the shirred bodice, draping on each hip and over the long loose gathered skirt. A small train at the back hem touched the lacquered bare wood floor. Three white stones were gathered at her bodice, right atop the middle of her chest.
Two barrettes of the same stone kept her bangs from hanging in her face. The front part of her hair was pleated to her right side, her long tresses falling in soft curls on her shoulders. A simple, yet entirely flattering hairstyle for her.
Sapphire studs were in her ears and a single matching gem on a thin braided chain dangled from her neck. A dark blue shawl was the last piece of her outfit. Instead of wrapping the shawl around her shoulders, she let the cloth drop to her elbows. One end of the long silk fabric draped lightly over her right wrist.
The same wonder he felt that day at the bottom of the staircase came back. He blinked and suddenly, she stood before him in a burnt orange dress and no less breathtaking.
His throat was dry. “You… look…” He looked her up and down slowly. She smiled at him.
Stunning.
Orange faded back to blue and he was reminded she wasn’t his.
“… great,” he finished lamely. He dropped his gaze to his cuff links.
Lois didn’t seem bothered by his less than stellar choice of words. “Thanks,” she said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
His black tuxedo with charcoal grey vest and necktie were the only things he could see as he kept his eyes down. His hold fumbled as he tried to get the cuff links through the holes of his sleeves.
“Need help, handsome?”
He heard her approaching footfalls. “No, I –” His sentence stuck in his throat as she took his cuffs in her hands.
With deft fingers, Lois fastened the cuff links for his right, then left wrist. He slowly lifted his head to study her profile. She held his hands in hers for a moment longer, the ends of her shawl brushing his skin as she let go.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, skin tingling.
A smile spread on her lips as her left hand reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Clark followed the movement and his eyes caught on the white gold glint of her wedding ring. The warmth that spread through his heart was becoming startlingly familiar. He glanced down at his empty left ring finger.
“Lois?” He waited until she looked up at him again before he asked, “Where’s my– umm, his wedding ring?”
She paused. “You don’t wear one,” she said. She turned to the hallway mirror and checked her hair. “The traditional way, anyway.”
He studied his open palm and curled it into a fist. “I didn’t know there was more than one way to wear a ring,” he commented.
“You wouldn’t, would you, Farmer John?” She turned back and her gaze focused on a point below his head. He looked back, puzzled. “It’s usually here –” She traced his neck with her index finger, making a ‘u’ that went under his collarbone. “– hanging from a thin silver chain.”
Once her fingers fell away, his hand touched the spot she indicated and tried to imagine the feel of the circular metal against his skin. “Well, where is it now?” he asked.
Lois looked honestly puzzled, before the answer came to her. She bit her cheek as if fighting a grin as she replied, “It came off.”
“How?” He couldn’t imagine ever willingly parting with his wedding ring.
“I may have… ripped it off.” His completely lost look was enough to prompt her to continue. “Sometimes I get a little… enthusiastic.”
“Oh,” he replied cluelessly.
Lois gave him a look, arching one eyebrow. He tilted his head, frowning. She continued staring before her comments clicked in his mind.
“… we fell asleep after... after a certain endorphin-inducing activity.”
A deep red colored his cheeks instantaneously. “Oh.” Like before, he tried not to think about the implications of her statement, but it already brought flashes of a green chaise longue, a revealing black top, and an uninhibited Lois.
“It’s probably in the bedroom somewhere,” Lois said.
“Why don’t I –” He gestured down the hall and hurriedly walked past her and into the bedroom. Once in the safety of the room, he blew out a breath and tugged at his collar.
It kept getting thrown in his face, but there were just roads he couldn’t go down. Even as he thought that, he used his x-ray vision to locate his future self’s misplaced wedding ring. Clark spotted it underneath the dresser, near the wall. He bent down, uncaring if he creased his tuxedo. He reached under the chest of drawers until his fingers felt the cool metal. He pulled it out and caught the chain before it slipped off the ring.
His wedding ring.
Clark cupped it reverently in his palms. All he did was stare for a few moments. Then he threaded the silver necklace through the ring again and used his heat vision to meld the broken chain back together. He held it up in front of his face, the white gold ring winking in the light of the room.
“You find it?”
Clark snapped out of his trance. He slipped the chain on as he got to his feet and tucked the necklace under his white dress shirt. “Yeah,” he said. He met Lois’s curious gaze and patted the spot on his collarbone where the ring rested. “Safe and sound.”
Lois smiled and she reached out, brushing his forehead affectionately with her fingers. “Come on,” she said. She pulled his glasses out of the blue clutch she held, and slipped them on his face with one hand. “The walk to the hotel will be nice. It’s only a few blocks.”
The cool metal began to match the temperature of his skin, and was getting heavier the longer his gaze lingered on Lois’s face. “Lead the way,” he said softly.
Lois nodded, turning and walking back into the hallway.
He could only follow her.
–
Clark and Lois didn’t speak much on their elevator ride to the ground floor, like a silent blanket had fallen over them. He wondered how long he would have to live his future counterpart’s life, and he couldn’t begin to imagine what made Lois so quiet. A quiet Lois was never a good thing.
She finally spoke once they passed the doorman and emerged on the sidewalk outside their building. “I’ve been trying to figure out this future/past puzzle.”
Clark was a bit ashamed it hadn’t been on his thoughts more. “Did you figure out something?” he asked.
Lois slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and started walking in the direction of what he assumed was the hotel. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes before emerging from her pondering. “Clark. Are you absolutely sure nothing happened aside from using the Legion ring?”
He had perused the day over and over again in his head. “Nothing worth spontaneously time traveling over,” he replied honestly.
“How do you know?”
Clark glanced at her. There was a small frown on her face.
“Every little thing matters,” she said. Her brow creased further with the line of her thoughts. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from being an investigative reporter, it’s that the reasons things happen can be anything. Sometimes the simplest of things – of moments – is the answer.”
Clark didn’t have proper time to muse on her words. Lois was already asking him another question. “What were you doing before the light hit you?”
“I was going home,” he answered.
Her hand tightened briefly on his forearm. “And where was I?” she asked with the sort of nonchalant tone that wasn’t really nonchalant.
Clark hesitated. He had avoided thinking about it, his decision not to meet Lois. It was a selfish and cowardly move, one motivated by both his unwillingness to see Lois’s disappointment and his instinctive need to protect his own fragile emotions. Clark was brave enough to tackle the evils of the world, but that same valiant courage left him in matters of the heart. His heart was still healing, still trying to mend after the disaster with Lana. Things had to go back to the status quo. He hadn’t been ready for that conversation – the conversation that would change everything – with Lois.
Why?
Clark looked down at her, this future version of his best friend. This woman who would be his wife. She returned his gaze steadily, and there was something about the way she was looking at him, like she was daring him.
Are you ready now?
Clark shut his eyes. He knew one thing. He couldn’t lie to her. Clark let out a breath. “You were at the coffee shop,” he said, opening his eyes.
“Alone,” she said flatly.
“Yes,” he said, his gaze turning forward. A few doors down, he could see the flashes of cameras as photographers caught arriving guests on film. “Alone. You invited me for coffee,” he confessed, “but I… I didn’t go.”
“You saw me,” Lois stated. Confusion and hurt permeated every nuance of her tone. “You were there. But you didn’t –” She cut herself off and shook her head like she couldn’t understand what she was saying.
There were no such things as half-confessions and the words were already pouring out of him. “I watched you for awhile,” he admitted. “I stood behind you, on the other side of the street. I had planned on coming, but then I saw you, sitting there –” How could he tell her that seeing her there, especially in the light of the lost forty-eight hours, had terrified him in a way he couldn’t yet properly explain? “And I couldn’t.”
They approached the entrance to the Carmenita Rose, a privately owned hotel large in size, though comparatively smaller to the hotels that were part of a larger chain. Clark didn’t want to go in yet, but Lois tugged him along, her confusion melting into a practiced smile as photographers noticed their arrival.
Clark felt helpless. “Lois –”
She shook her head, clearly not ready to talk, and he kept quiet, smiling awkwardly at the cameras but never stopping to pose. They followed the other guests trickling in towards the ballroom. But before they could cross into the threshold of the main event, Lois’s cell vibrated. She opened her clutch and took out her phone. She read the text message before placing the cell back in her handbag.
Lois pulled her hand from his arm, taking a couple steps back. “I’m going to make a run to the powder room,” she said, touching the barrettes at the side of her head. “I’ll be right back.”
Clark nodded, not quite sure what to do with himself. Lois was obviously upset, the very thing he hated to see. Should he push the issue? No, no. He should be giving her space, right?
Lois turned her back to him and adjusted her silk shawl. The edge that had been wrapped around her right wrist fell away. Everything in Clark stilled. His hand lifted of its own accord, suspended in the air. It couldn’t be. The structure was slightly different, maybe a bit slimmer, not as large in width, but other than that, it retained its previous design. The silver gleamed, looking polished and new. A blue crystal filled the diamond shape in the center of the hollow oval, connected to the rest of the form by lines of silver.
But instead of blue, Clark saw a turquoise stone and a feeling of inevitability washed over him. Stuck in a future determined to upset everything he ever knew about his life, it was only a matter of time before he faced what he had so far avoided.
Clark took a few steps forward, his eyes never leaving her wrist. “Lois, that bracelet –”
“He crossed the street, Clark.”
He paused at her abrupt statement, not fully comprehending its meaning at first. “What?”
Lois looked back at him over her shoulder, the intensity of her hazel eyes piercing him.
“He crossed the street.”
Complete Chapter List HERE.
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 01:27 am (UTC)I love having Clark at the DP -- getting more insight into his future life, realizing who he becomes as Clark Kent as a reporter.
Clark closed the manila folder and sat back in his chair. He blew out a breath, ruffling his bangs. The chatter of nearby DP workers was a mere buzz in the back of his head. His gaze strayed to the bulletin board on his cubicle wall. Dates and appointments were written neatly on the white board half, but the corkboard half had pictures and older articles. His eyes passed over a picture of his future self embracing Lois from behind, their expressions laughing and carefree; instead, he focused on the bylines. Looking at each cut-out article, ‘Reported by’ was followed by one of three variations: Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Clark Kent, or Lois Lane-Kent and Clark Kent.
Clark knew there was significance to each and every article his future counterpart had pinned to the board, but he was careful to not read the headlines. Somehow, he understood this was only the tip of the iceberg to the number of articles he had written by himself or with Lois.
He felt pride well up inside him. His days as an intern would pass, and he would become a successful journalist, one of the Daily Planet’s top reporters. Seeking truth and finding justice in a way outside of his hero persona.
I really enjoyed this section because you perfectly highlighted Clark's long standing insecurities about being alone; about not being happy and loved. And how he is happy with his own life -- that he can be the hero and the reporter.
She has the bracelet ♥
Ah, so that is why Clark is in the future because the timeline was disrupted because of his fear. Lois' angry and hurt reaction to his revelation was heartbreaking. So does that mean essentially future!Clark no longer exists?
LOL to why future!Clark wore his wedding ring on a necklace. I can just imagine Clark's face when the realization hit him. Hilarious.
Clark thinking about wanting to punch Bruce? Priceless
no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 03:13 am (UTC)I just had to have a DP chapter. Looking back, though, I wish I had Clark interacting more with other employees, but it would have also complicated things even further... ah well.
One of my biggest complaints about SV is their unwillingness to focus on Clark's journalistic career. Well, not "unwillingness" per se... but y'know, it's kinda put on the wayside. :/
But it's true - Clark has to figure out that he actually can have it all. All these pieces have been laid out for him in the future, it's just that he has to put it together. It's more like he sees it, but he can't really believe it. If I'm making any sense, lol.
Yes, the bracelet! ♥ You're the first person to mention it. :D I had to put it in.
You're half-right! Which half, I can't say, lol. Though it's probably pretty obvious. ;) I hate hurting Lois. :( But she can't be nice all the time. I've noticed my Lois is like a soft version... don't know if that's good.
Actually, I don't think I explained the reason for the necklace just yet, but he wears it like that b/c of the Superman angle. Regarding the reason he wasn't wearing it - lol. I'm guilty of putting Clark into various uncomfortable situations.
LOL! I wasn't sure if that was too OOC? XD;; But I was like, screw it. So I put it in. I kinda liked the idea too much not to put it in, I mean. ^.^;;
Thanks for commenting! ♥ :D
no subject
Date: 2009-09-22 10:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-23 06:46 am (UTC)Unfortunately, I haven't written any Merlin fanfiction yet, but I want to. I'll let you know if I ever do. :)
Thanks for commenting! ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-09-24 02:28 pm (UTC)and I wonder for the millionth time why Smallville Clark is such a freaking idiot...
now he needs to be scared that this isn't what he's going to end up with... ahh I might go crazy before the next chapter :P and I mean that in a good way!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-12 05:02 am (UTC)And if you think this blew your mind, wait until Chapter 11. I'll be posting it some time tomorrow, so be sure to check it out. :D
Yeah, Smallville Clark has... issues. :P I hope to fix that soon. ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-10 01:20 am (UTC)I'm really liking that they're at the DP, and I liked the story tie-in to both Clarks. Interesting. Neat idea.
Oh, the talk about the 'missed coffee date'! Very good.
I so adore your teasing banter with these two. I can't get enough of it!
Off to review ch. 11!! Keep writing when you get the time!! :D
no subject
Date: 2009-12-22 07:17 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting and for the congrats on the awards! I'm very humbled by all of it, really. ("Better late than never" - I agree!)
I adore the DP, so I had to write a chapter focused almost solely on it. SV!Clark needs to reflect more on his passion for journalism, I think...
I'm really happy you're enjoying the interactions I have going between Clark and Lois. :D Hopefully, I can pull this off all the way through.
Thanks for your review! ♥
no subject
Date: 2010-01-24 04:28 pm (UTC)LOVED the ending! "What?" "He crossed the street."
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR FOUR AWARDS!!!!