FIC: "Seasonal Circumstance" (Smallville, Reunion'verse)
FIC: "Seasonal Circumstance" (Smallville, Reunion'verse)
for xenokattz
prompt: Reunion’verse Clois, “Christmas”
“Isn’t it uncomfortably cold up here, Lois?” Clark asks, closing the door behind him softly. A snowflake lands on his palm and melts. A few hundred of its brethren rest in Lois’s hair like miniature hair clips, glittering in the haze of city lights.
Lois snorts, but doesn’t bother to turn around, instead continuing to stare at the Metropolis skyline. “Like you’d feel it,” she says.
“What, I’m not allowed to be worried on your behalf?” he teases. “I don’t relish the idea of explaining to your dad that you froze to death on top of the Daily Planet Building, searching the sky for the real Santa Claus.”
She turns around so fast that for half a moment he’s worried that she’ll slip and tumble over the railing. “I am not-” she starts and then apparently sees his grin. “Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“It was a very insightful piece. Mr. White loved it,” Clark tells her, still grinning.
“It was fluff,” Lois retorts, “and Lois Lane does not do fluff. Lois Lane is a bad-ass reporter.”
“Lois Lane wrote an excellent expose on the mall Santa Claus photo industry,” Clark returns. “Mall Santas across America will tremble at her feet.” He pauses. “Lois Lane is guaranteed a job at the Daily Planet after graduation.”
“Oh, hush, you,” Lois says, but she’s blushing a little and she’s hardly ever looked prettier, in Clark’s opinion. But these days there’s hardly an hour that goes by when he’s in her company and there isn’t something he finds completely endearing about her. He’s starting to wonder about his sanity. He always thought she was pretty enough, and they’ve had…moments, and with Lois fake-flirting is an art form, but lately…
Part of him doesn’t want to admit that all four of his parents saw this coming, years before he did.
He stands next to her at the railing. The city is beautiful in moonlit snow and he can see why she’s putting up with shivering up here to look at it. He pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. “I can handle the cold better,” he says when she gives him a questioning look.
“Thanks,” she says, and he’s a little surprised. He’s not sure why; it’s not like she goes out of her way to be rude or anything; she’s just kind of brusque with people sometimes, not out of a lack of manners, but rather competition and drive, and the strangeness of her upbringing.
“I’m not a big Christmas person,” she says, “but I love snow.”
“Then you would have loved Krypton,” he teases. “Three different holidays dedicated to snow.”
She gives him a calculating look. “You’re making that up.”
He sighs. “I can never get anything past you.” But he’s teasing her there, too, and suddenly he realizes why Chloe and Oliver keep laughing at him. It’s not just two sets of parents; it’s his friends, too. A plan starts to form in his mind. “Come on,” he says. “We should get back to the party before someone notices we’re missing and puts together a search party.”
Lois nods. “All right,” she concedes, slipping off his jacket. “I could use some hot chocolate.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Clark replies, and thinks to himself, If she’d mentioned mistletoe, I’d start wondering if she could read my mind.
for xenokattz
prompt: Reunion’verse Clois, “Christmas”
“Isn’t it uncomfortably cold up here, Lois?” Clark asks, closing the door behind him softly. A snowflake lands on his palm and melts. A few hundred of its brethren rest in Lois’s hair like miniature hair clips, glittering in the haze of city lights.
Lois snorts, but doesn’t bother to turn around, instead continuing to stare at the Metropolis skyline. “Like you’d feel it,” she says.
“What, I’m not allowed to be worried on your behalf?” he teases. “I don’t relish the idea of explaining to your dad that you froze to death on top of the Daily Planet Building, searching the sky for the real Santa Claus.”
She turns around so fast that for half a moment he’s worried that she’ll slip and tumble over the railing. “I am not-” she starts and then apparently sees his grin. “Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“It was a very insightful piece. Mr. White loved it,” Clark tells her, still grinning.
“It was fluff,” Lois retorts, “and Lois Lane does not do fluff. Lois Lane is a bad-ass reporter.”
“Lois Lane wrote an excellent expose on the mall Santa Claus photo industry,” Clark returns. “Mall Santas across America will tremble at her feet.” He pauses. “Lois Lane is guaranteed a job at the Daily Planet after graduation.”
“Oh, hush, you,” Lois says, but she’s blushing a little and she’s hardly ever looked prettier, in Clark’s opinion. But these days there’s hardly an hour that goes by when he’s in her company and there isn’t something he finds completely endearing about her. He’s starting to wonder about his sanity. He always thought she was pretty enough, and they’ve had…moments, and with Lois fake-flirting is an art form, but lately…
Part of him doesn’t want to admit that all four of his parents saw this coming, years before he did.
He stands next to her at the railing. The city is beautiful in moonlit snow and he can see why she’s putting up with shivering up here to look at it. He pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. “I can handle the cold better,” he says when she gives him a questioning look.
“Thanks,” she says, and he’s a little surprised. He’s not sure why; it’s not like she goes out of her way to be rude or anything; she’s just kind of brusque with people sometimes, not out of a lack of manners, but rather competition and drive, and the strangeness of her upbringing.
“I’m not a big Christmas person,” she says, “but I love snow.”
“Then you would have loved Krypton,” he teases. “Three different holidays dedicated to snow.”
She gives him a calculating look. “You’re making that up.”
He sighs. “I can never get anything past you.” But he’s teasing her there, too, and suddenly he realizes why Chloe and Oliver keep laughing at him. It’s not just two sets of parents; it’s his friends, too. A plan starts to form in his mind. “Come on,” he says. “We should get back to the party before someone notices we’re missing and puts together a search party.”
Lois nods. “All right,” she concedes, slipping off his jacket. “I could use some hot chocolate.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Clark replies, and thinks to himself, If she’d mentioned mistletoe, I’d start wondering if she could read my mind.