SV Fic: Gravity
Title: Gravity
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,139
Classification: Chlois; Chlark; Clois; angst/romance
Spoilers: Season six, thus far.
Disclaimer: Not mine but the property of AlMiles, CW and affiliates
Summary: Circling back to the same place.
In the morning, when the sky is light but grey, Lois wakes up and he is gone. Running her hand over the cotton sheets and the sheets are cold to touch. Her fingers dip into a hollow in the mattress - the imprint of an absent body. Curling into the quilt and she will sleep away the loss.
*
She dreams of snow and a blanket of white covering Metropolis. Trudging across the frosted pale pavement and the footprints speak, ‘You’re not the only one who’s been here before.’ There’s a woman selling roasted chestnuts at the corner of Fifth Street and Tenth Avenue next to her regular coffee cart. She stands in queue, rubbing gloved hands together, blowing puffs of expired air into the atmosphere. The coffee is delivered to her waiting palms and the coins fall down in a clink. Heads up.
*
Craning her neck and she can still barely make out the spot of red and blue in the sky. There’s the frantic click behind her, the endless flash of light, and she’s already called in the story so she stands slightly to the side and marvels.
*
Instinct tells her that he’s hovering at the edge of her balcony so she gets up to slide open the glass doors and there he is.
‘Superman,’ she says and resists the urge to push aside the dark curl.
‘Lois,’ he replies but he’s not looking at her but staring at the brightly colored kimono hanging on her wall.
‘I heard,’ she tells him, ‘it’s not your fault. You’re the hero. Lex is the villain. You can’t keep it all inside. Let me in.’
The words fall from her lips in a rhythm of breath and sound; and she feels tangled in this present with the trace of animals and hay around her.
‘Do you want to go to Japan?’ he asks her. He scoops her up without waiting for an answer and she curls into their familiar position: brown hair caressing his right shoulder, her arms around his neck.
*
He lays her past and future on the bed and his body is an atlas and her fingers eagerly find the spot where she wants to be today. His costume of red and blue is carefully folded on a chair and old habits die hard. So they etch into one another, into friendship, jotting down the notes of desire long suppressed with unsteady hands and desperate mouths.
*
She leads him now, like she’s lead him before, investigating the familiar, the foreign, the loop of fate and he will remember everything because he cannot forget her.
*
There is a worn photograph in his wallet of a young girl with blonde hair and a wide smile next to an awkward boy in flannel. She pulls it out and holds it close to her chest.
*
The thick glasses sit crookedly on his nose and she rolls her eyes and straightens them for him, pretending that her heart hasn’t skipped a beat.
‘You’re such a child, Kent,’ she scolds. ‘Look presentable, we’re about to go into the Lion’s den.’
‘Perry loves you,’ he grouses. ‘You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re not the one who’s considered unreliable.’
‘Unreliable but brilliant,’ she corrects and flashes him a wide toothy grin.
*
The little hand on her watch ticks over but she’s gotten used to waiting for him. A flame flickers as the candle reaches the end of its wick, dinner is cold and it is almost time for bed.
When he flies back to her in a rush of apologies she just smiles her understanding.
*
In a room together and no one but them can comprehend how reputations can overwhelm.
‘Sometimes I miss Chloe,’ he murmurs in her ear, while his forefinger and thumb play with her brown hair.
‘Sometimes I miss her too,’ she confesses.
*
‘Lois Lane, meet Clark Kent. He’s going to be your new partner,’ Perry introduces.
She shakes his hand with a firm grip and gives him the famous steely Lane gaze. ‘You’ll do,’ she nods and heads back to work.
Later over ham sandwiches he tells her, ‘I know this partnership could really work. I want it to work.’
Later over pie, he kisses her smack on the mouth like the first time they met, awkwardness and nervousness included.
‘Let me guess,’ she says, stealing a chunk of his pie with a fork, ‘you knew that I’d been thinking about kissing you all day so you decided to get it out of the way so that we could concentrate on our partnership.’
*
Out in the streets, crouched in an alleyway as a deal goes down, and she pretends that she’s not aware of Jimmy Olsen and Clark Kent meeting for the second time.
‘I’m the photographer. Perry’s assigned me,’ Jimmy says, sizing up Clark carefully.
‘Lois speaks highly of you,’ he says, ‘and I’ve seen your photographs. You have an excellent eye.’
‘I’ve read some of your articles. They’re pretty good,’ Jimmy grudgingly admits.
‘I like your bow tie.’
They both give her a significant look as Jimmy tugs the striped brown, orange and white material, but she’s absorbed by the mention of a Dr Casselli in the conversation across the alleyway.
*
‘This is it,’ she tells her cousin.
‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing, little cuz?’
‘No, but the truth has to come out. It’s too important. Besides, it’s already at the printers and tomorrow’s edition of the Daily Planet hits the streets in 6 hours.’
‘This could change everything,’ her cousin warns.
‘We’ll see…the mud never seems to stick to Lex. But at least the public will know. They deserve the truth.’
‘Well, just be prepared for what happens next.’
*
When she accepts her first Pulitzer, there’s no one there. Everyone left is traveling the world, finding themselves. But she’s known who she is, where she belongs from the very beginning.
*
Standing out on the balcony as the city’s skyscape twinkles like electric stars, he tells her, ‘I was always worried that I would end up alone. Always the alien, always the intergalactic traveler that belonged nowhere. Don’t get me wrong, I loved growing up in Smallville, I love Smallville, I love the farm. But here and now, in Metropolis, I feel like I’m finally home.’
*
In the morning, getting out of bed, and she's used to him not being there, her feet lightly pad across the carpet towards the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits her suddenly, unexpectedly, and she’s wide awake.
Approaching the kitchen and he’s standing there in sweats and familiar flannel. He’s not wearing his glasses and he’s just like the boy she remembers, loves.
He looks up, offers her coffee and says, ‘Marry me’.
(fin)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,139
Classification: Chlois; Chlark; Clois; angst/romance
Spoilers: Season six, thus far.
Disclaimer: Not mine but the property of AlMiles, CW and affiliates
Summary: Circling back to the same place.
In the morning, when the sky is light but grey, Lois wakes up and he is gone. Running her hand over the cotton sheets and the sheets are cold to touch. Her fingers dip into a hollow in the mattress - the imprint of an absent body. Curling into the quilt and she will sleep away the loss.
*
She dreams of snow and a blanket of white covering Metropolis. Trudging across the frosted pale pavement and the footprints speak, ‘You’re not the only one who’s been here before.’ There’s a woman selling roasted chestnuts at the corner of Fifth Street and Tenth Avenue next to her regular coffee cart. She stands in queue, rubbing gloved hands together, blowing puffs of expired air into the atmosphere. The coffee is delivered to her waiting palms and the coins fall down in a clink. Heads up.
*
Craning her neck and she can still barely make out the spot of red and blue in the sky. There’s the frantic click behind her, the endless flash of light, and she’s already called in the story so she stands slightly to the side and marvels.
*
Instinct tells her that he’s hovering at the edge of her balcony so she gets up to slide open the glass doors and there he is.
‘Superman,’ she says and resists the urge to push aside the dark curl.
‘Lois,’ he replies but he’s not looking at her but staring at the brightly colored kimono hanging on her wall.
‘I heard,’ she tells him, ‘it’s not your fault. You’re the hero. Lex is the villain. You can’t keep it all inside. Let me in.’
The words fall from her lips in a rhythm of breath and sound; and she feels tangled in this present with the trace of animals and hay around her.
‘Do you want to go to Japan?’ he asks her. He scoops her up without waiting for an answer and she curls into their familiar position: brown hair caressing his right shoulder, her arms around his neck.
*
He lays her past and future on the bed and his body is an atlas and her fingers eagerly find the spot where she wants to be today. His costume of red and blue is carefully folded on a chair and old habits die hard. So they etch into one another, into friendship, jotting down the notes of desire long suppressed with unsteady hands and desperate mouths.
*
She leads him now, like she’s lead him before, investigating the familiar, the foreign, the loop of fate and he will remember everything because he cannot forget her.
*
There is a worn photograph in his wallet of a young girl with blonde hair and a wide smile next to an awkward boy in flannel. She pulls it out and holds it close to her chest.
*
The thick glasses sit crookedly on his nose and she rolls her eyes and straightens them for him, pretending that her heart hasn’t skipped a beat.
‘You’re such a child, Kent,’ she scolds. ‘Look presentable, we’re about to go into the Lion’s den.’
‘Perry loves you,’ he grouses. ‘You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re not the one who’s considered unreliable.’
‘Unreliable but brilliant,’ she corrects and flashes him a wide toothy grin.
*
The little hand on her watch ticks over but she’s gotten used to waiting for him. A flame flickers as the candle reaches the end of its wick, dinner is cold and it is almost time for bed.
When he flies back to her in a rush of apologies she just smiles her understanding.
*
In a room together and no one but them can comprehend how reputations can overwhelm.
‘Sometimes I miss Chloe,’ he murmurs in her ear, while his forefinger and thumb play with her brown hair.
‘Sometimes I miss her too,’ she confesses.
*
‘Lois Lane, meet Clark Kent. He’s going to be your new partner,’ Perry introduces.
She shakes his hand with a firm grip and gives him the famous steely Lane gaze. ‘You’ll do,’ she nods and heads back to work.
Later over ham sandwiches he tells her, ‘I know this partnership could really work. I want it to work.’
Later over pie, he kisses her smack on the mouth like the first time they met, awkwardness and nervousness included.
‘Let me guess,’ she says, stealing a chunk of his pie with a fork, ‘you knew that I’d been thinking about kissing you all day so you decided to get it out of the way so that we could concentrate on our partnership.’
*
Out in the streets, crouched in an alleyway as a deal goes down, and she pretends that she’s not aware of Jimmy Olsen and Clark Kent meeting for the second time.
‘I’m the photographer. Perry’s assigned me,’ Jimmy says, sizing up Clark carefully.
‘Lois speaks highly of you,’ he says, ‘and I’ve seen your photographs. You have an excellent eye.’
‘I’ve read some of your articles. They’re pretty good,’ Jimmy grudgingly admits.
‘I like your bow tie.’
They both give her a significant look as Jimmy tugs the striped brown, orange and white material, but she’s absorbed by the mention of a Dr Casselli in the conversation across the alleyway.
*
‘This is it,’ she tells her cousin.
‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing, little cuz?’
‘No, but the truth has to come out. It’s too important. Besides, it’s already at the printers and tomorrow’s edition of the Daily Planet hits the streets in 6 hours.’
‘This could change everything,’ her cousin warns.
‘We’ll see…the mud never seems to stick to Lex. But at least the public will know. They deserve the truth.’
‘Well, just be prepared for what happens next.’
*
When she accepts her first Pulitzer, there’s no one there. Everyone left is traveling the world, finding themselves. But she’s known who she is, where she belongs from the very beginning.
*
Standing out on the balcony as the city’s skyscape twinkles like electric stars, he tells her, ‘I was always worried that I would end up alone. Always the alien, always the intergalactic traveler that belonged nowhere. Don’t get me wrong, I loved growing up in Smallville, I love Smallville, I love the farm. But here and now, in Metropolis, I feel like I’m finally home.’
*
In the morning, getting out of bed, and she's used to him not being there, her feet lightly pad across the carpet towards the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits her suddenly, unexpectedly, and she’s wide awake.
Approaching the kitchen and he’s standing there in sweats and familiar flannel. He’s not wearing his glasses and he’s just like the boy she remembers, loves.
He looks up, offers her coffee and says, ‘Marry me’.
(fin)