Fic: Christmas in the Trenches | Superman Reeveverse | Clark Kent/Lois Lane | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: Christmas in the Trenches
Fandom: Superman Reeveverse
Pairing: Clark/Lois
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2,100
Prompt: For The 12 Days of Clois Christmas Challenge: #21: Gift Wrapping ( 2011); For the 2012 DCU Free For All Winter Holidays Challenge: Holiday Party, Hot Cocoa, Gifts; For my dcu_freeforall claim: Saint
Summary: Lois just doesn’t have enough time to get it all done. Clark doesn’t seem to understand that.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Wrote this one last year but never posted it. Doh! Also posted over here at 12days_of_clois.
Christmas in the Trenches
With a growl slowly emerging from her throat, Lois slammed the receiver down, cutting off her call with a clang and the jolted ringing of the phone’s inner workings. It wasn’t nearly jarring enough for what she’d liked to have done, but then, throwing a brick through the window of a certain store’s annual Christmas display wouldn’t be the polite thing to do. Not with two days left until the twenty-fifth, and everyone’s patience running out as the season progressed. She had to remember that, at the very least, right?
Closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, she ran through all the choice language she’d very much wanted to unleash on the customer service representative she’d just spoken to. ‘That particular style is out of stock, ma’am,’ her ass. There was no goddamn way in hell that they’d run out of the shoes that her sister had been cooing over for ages, just when Lois had planned to surprise her with them for Christmas. No way. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Oh no. The camera store hadn’t had the lens size that Jimmy had been talking about needing for weeks, and the damn big and tall men’s store didn’t have the jacket she’d wanted to pick up for Cl-
“Lois?”
“What!?” she shot back, her eyes snapping open as she whirled on whoever had dared to disturb her silent tirade. She still had a good thirty seconds of seething left to get in before she had to get back to work.
Clark visibly gulped, looking for the world like the proverbial deer in the headlights. “I, um, brought you some hot cocoa,” he said, holding out a hand with a large paper cup from her favorite local coffee joint.
But that wasn’t at all what Lois needed right now. “Clark, do I look like I could use a cup of cocoa? What I need is a pot of coffee, black as night, steaming hot, and more brewing. I need a caffeine infusion, not a five-hundred calorie cup of liquid sugar. I have entirely too much to do, and not enough time.”
“Oh. Um-”
Lois swept a hand out to indicate the half-typed article still sitting in her typewriter, as the entire bullpen blazed with the usual four-thirty flurry of the deadline crunch around them. “Do you see this? I’ve got a story on the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas Killer’ to finish in the next ten minutes. I’ve gotta get it over to copy, then layout, and make sure Perry signs off on it, or else I lose the front page. Then I have to make sure Loueen’s got a handle on the preparations for the office Christmas party. I know there’s no way, because the caterers are always a bitch to handle, so I’m gonna have to track them down myself and make sure everything’s a ‘go’. After that, I’ve got about a dozen more gifts to track down, I’ve gotta go home, clean my apartment so Lucy’s rugrats don’t tear the place up even worse when everybody hits town tomorrow, I’ve gotta wrap all those presents, finish decorating, start baking-which I’m sure will lead to a fire alarm going off in my building-and get the ham in my fridge into some sort of soaking brine that Lucy swears is the best way to prepare it. But what the hell do I know about cooking, Clark? You know as well as I do that I can burn water. And there’s just no way out of-”
“Lois-”
“-anything, because it all has to be done. I just do not have the-”
“Lois.”
“-time to get all this finished by Christmas!”
“Lois!”
“What!!”
Sucking in a gasp, Lois realized that all eyes in the immediate vicinity had turned to her, and Clark looked like he’d been struck. A quick glare around, her Mad Dog growl, and the onlookers turned away hurriedly, only her partner left in her direct path.
“So? What, Clark?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips.
A concerned frown crossed his face, and he slowly adjusted his glasses with one finger as he set the cup of cocoa on Lois’s desk. “Why are you doing all this? Do you really think Loueen can’t handle the caterers? And I thought your sister only had three children? Why are you buying so many gifts?”
For a second, Lois was dumbfounded. “I’m not just buying for them, you know.”
“Oh. Then … who?”
“Are you really this dense?” she asked, half sarcastically, half genuine, not knowing whether to trust his damn farm-boy naivete. Sometimes, she really had to wonder about him. When he just frowned apologetically, shrugging slightly as if a little confused, she shook her head. “Okay. I’m buying for all of them,” she started, ticking off one whole hand of fingers, then starting on the other. “Plus my mother, Perry and Alice, Jimmy, Loueen, you, the doorman at my building, Jeff and Robbie at the security desk downstairs, and the entire copy desk. Just my little way of saying … um … thanks for putting up with me,” she finished, actually managing to feel a little sheepish as the warmth of a blush began to creep up her neck to her ears. Damn good thing she’d worn her hair down today.
Clark cracked a tiny, lopsided smile. “You’re … giving me a Christmas gift?”
An exasperated huff escaped her before she could stop it, and Lois rolled her eyes. “Yes, you,” she repeated, finally fixing him with a hard look as she propped her hands on her hips again. “And for all the people that don’t have to be nice to me … but are. There, you happy? I just want to make Christmas nice for everyone I care about, okay? And for your information, Loueen is up to her armpits in decorations, game and gift exchange planning, keeping the whole damn office in coffee, and making sure Perry doesn’t blow his stack this week, like he did last year. It wouldn’t be a good idea to let her give herself a heart attack, you know?”
His smile deepening into a grin, Clark leaned against her desk and folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you before, Lois. It’s … interesting.”
“Interesting?” Did he just seriously call her ‘interesting’? “Clark, I’ll have you know that making Christmas for the troops is the most important part of the holiday.” God, how she remembered Christmases growing up, where her family had taken the lead on whatever military base her father had been stationed at and made the most fantastic celebration for the troops, at all costs. After all, they were the ones in the trenches, and she and her mother and sister had been support staff. That was just the way things worked under General Lane’s leadership. A well-oiled machine. All civilian support dedicated to serving those who served.
“Lois … ” Clark started, his voice soft, “did you say ‘troops’?”
Snapping out of the trip down memory lane, Lois scowled. “Of course I did. Civilian support staff serves the troops. That’s the way it works.”
“This isn’t the military, Lois,” he went on, standing again, and smoothing his hands down her arms. “We’re not on the front lines here. And you, of all people, should be the one getting pampered for Christmas. I don’t want you to give yourself a heart attack, either.”
For a moment, nothing that Clark said even computed. Not on the front lines? He couldn’t be serious. “Clark, take a look around you. This place is as close to a precision military strike force as it could possibly be, without adding Army green to the mix. These are the trenches, and every one of you is a soldier. I’m just the woman out getting the stories. And I’ll have you know that I’m invulnerable to heart attacks. Not even French terrorists could kill me.”
Clark’s smile returned at that, as if something she’d said was hilarious. “Be that as it may, none of us are soldiers. We’re reporters. No one’s getting shot at-” he paused, seeming to laugh to himself as he shrugged one shoulder, “-well, not intentionally-and no ground will be lost if we lose a story to a competitor. We won’t have to bow down to a dictator if we get ambushed. There are no guns, no fatigues, no military transports, no letters from home, no missing family, no care packages. It’s Metropolis, and while there are people out there sacrificing their holidays, they do that so we don’t have to. I know you’ve been supporting the troops all your life, but you don’t have to make it your sole purpose to take care of every single person in your circle.”
Lois’s mouth hung open for a long time then, her mind spinning. Taking care of everyone was practically in her job description! Well, in Loueen’s, anyway, but as top City reporter, Lois was responsible for everything that went on in here.
“Are you kidding me?” she finally said, starting to feel like smoke was pouring out of her ears. “I’ve got twenty-three City reporters looking to me to take the lead here. And if I want to make Assistant Chief anytime this century, I’ve gotta bust my ass. No lying down on the job. And Christmas,” she added, poking a finger at Clark’s chest, “is my biggest priority behind getting this story in, in the next-five minutes now, thanks, Clark.”
Clark only laughed, a low rumbling sound deep in his chest, and smiled softly down at her. “Lois. Take a breath. Finish your story, and I’ll get it handed in. I’ll coordinate with the caterers for the party if need be, and if you want, I’ll help you with your baking and the ham and everything else. My mother’s a pretty good cook, and she taught me everything she knows.”
At that, everything ground to a halt. “Are you for real?” she asked, unable to keep the sense of relief and gratitude that swept over her in that instant out of her voice. If she didn’t have to do all this herself, then … then she might actually have time to get all those presents wrapped, assuming she could even find the other half of them. God, she could get it all done! She might even have time to get a few hours of sleep in at some point. Blessed sleep.
His smile widened, eyes twinkling behind those damn thick glasses, and Clark nodded. “I’ve got plenty of time. You really should’ve asked me earlier, you know?”
Huh. Honestly, the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Jesus, what had she been thinking? Of course Clark would give her a hand or two.
“You, sir, are a saint,” she said then, and without another thought, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Clark squarely. The sudden heat of his lips surprised her, and she found herself gasping, backing off with wide eyes. “Oh. Crap. I didn’t mean to-” she floundered, but suddenly, she found she wasn’t sorry at all. Just how long had she wanted to do that? Holy shit, she’d just kissed her partner! Her best friend, no less! Who … who was gazing down at her with those blue eyes, his lips parted in silent shock, adorable and handsome and-
“Aw, to hell with it,” she muttered, and lifting up again, she kissed Clark properly, her hands landing on his solid chest. The kiss was absolutely nothing like she’d expected, and everything she could’ve hoped as he responded in kind.
Some interminable time later, she realized Clark’s hands had slipped around her shoulders, and she broke the kiss, burying her face in his neck and hugging him back. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Clark laughed again, lightly. “You’re welcome, Lois. Um, we should probably get your story finished, you know, before the whole bullpen sees us like this. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
Pulling back enough to catch his gaze-mischievous, of course-Lois smirked at him. “Good point. We’ll pick this up later,” she added with a pointed look.
Where she would find the time to add this to the mix, she had no idea, but dammit, and there was no way she was backing down now. It wouldn’t be Christmas in the trenches without a challenge.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Superman Reeveverse
Pairing: Clark/Lois
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2,100
Prompt: For The 12 Days of Clois Christmas Challenge: #21: Gift Wrapping ( 2011); For the 2012 DCU Free For All Winter Holidays Challenge: Holiday Party, Hot Cocoa, Gifts; For my dcu_freeforall claim: Saint
Summary: Lois just doesn’t have enough time to get it all done. Clark doesn’t seem to understand that.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Wrote this one last year but never posted it. Doh! Also posted over here at 12days_of_clois.
Christmas in the Trenches
With a growl slowly emerging from her throat, Lois slammed the receiver down, cutting off her call with a clang and the jolted ringing of the phone’s inner workings. It wasn’t nearly jarring enough for what she’d liked to have done, but then, throwing a brick through the window of a certain store’s annual Christmas display wouldn’t be the polite thing to do. Not with two days left until the twenty-fifth, and everyone’s patience running out as the season progressed. She had to remember that, at the very least, right?
Closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, she ran through all the choice language she’d very much wanted to unleash on the customer service representative she’d just spoken to. ‘That particular style is out of stock, ma’am,’ her ass. There was no goddamn way in hell that they’d run out of the shoes that her sister had been cooing over for ages, just when Lois had planned to surprise her with them for Christmas. No way. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Oh no. The camera store hadn’t had the lens size that Jimmy had been talking about needing for weeks, and the damn big and tall men’s store didn’t have the jacket she’d wanted to pick up for Cl-
“Lois?”
“What!?” she shot back, her eyes snapping open as she whirled on whoever had dared to disturb her silent tirade. She still had a good thirty seconds of seething left to get in before she had to get back to work.
Clark visibly gulped, looking for the world like the proverbial deer in the headlights. “I, um, brought you some hot cocoa,” he said, holding out a hand with a large paper cup from her favorite local coffee joint.
But that wasn’t at all what Lois needed right now. “Clark, do I look like I could use a cup of cocoa? What I need is a pot of coffee, black as night, steaming hot, and more brewing. I need a caffeine infusion, not a five-hundred calorie cup of liquid sugar. I have entirely too much to do, and not enough time.”
“Oh. Um-”
Lois swept a hand out to indicate the half-typed article still sitting in her typewriter, as the entire bullpen blazed with the usual four-thirty flurry of the deadline crunch around them. “Do you see this? I’ve got a story on the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas Killer’ to finish in the next ten minutes. I’ve gotta get it over to copy, then layout, and make sure Perry signs off on it, or else I lose the front page. Then I have to make sure Loueen’s got a handle on the preparations for the office Christmas party. I know there’s no way, because the caterers are always a bitch to handle, so I’m gonna have to track them down myself and make sure everything’s a ‘go’. After that, I’ve got about a dozen more gifts to track down, I’ve gotta go home, clean my apartment so Lucy’s rugrats don’t tear the place up even worse when everybody hits town tomorrow, I’ve gotta wrap all those presents, finish decorating, start baking-which I’m sure will lead to a fire alarm going off in my building-and get the ham in my fridge into some sort of soaking brine that Lucy swears is the best way to prepare it. But what the hell do I know about cooking, Clark? You know as well as I do that I can burn water. And there’s just no way out of-”
“Lois-”
“-anything, because it all has to be done. I just do not have the-”
“Lois.”
“-time to get all this finished by Christmas!”
“Lois!”
“What!!”
Sucking in a gasp, Lois realized that all eyes in the immediate vicinity had turned to her, and Clark looked like he’d been struck. A quick glare around, her Mad Dog growl, and the onlookers turned away hurriedly, only her partner left in her direct path.
“So? What, Clark?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips.
A concerned frown crossed his face, and he slowly adjusted his glasses with one finger as he set the cup of cocoa on Lois’s desk. “Why are you doing all this? Do you really think Loueen can’t handle the caterers? And I thought your sister only had three children? Why are you buying so many gifts?”
For a second, Lois was dumbfounded. “I’m not just buying for them, you know.”
“Oh. Then … who?”
“Are you really this dense?” she asked, half sarcastically, half genuine, not knowing whether to trust his damn farm-boy naivete. Sometimes, she really had to wonder about him. When he just frowned apologetically, shrugging slightly as if a little confused, she shook her head. “Okay. I’m buying for all of them,” she started, ticking off one whole hand of fingers, then starting on the other. “Plus my mother, Perry and Alice, Jimmy, Loueen, you, the doorman at my building, Jeff and Robbie at the security desk downstairs, and the entire copy desk. Just my little way of saying … um … thanks for putting up with me,” she finished, actually managing to feel a little sheepish as the warmth of a blush began to creep up her neck to her ears. Damn good thing she’d worn her hair down today.
Clark cracked a tiny, lopsided smile. “You’re … giving me a Christmas gift?”
An exasperated huff escaped her before she could stop it, and Lois rolled her eyes. “Yes, you,” she repeated, finally fixing him with a hard look as she propped her hands on her hips again. “And for all the people that don’t have to be nice to me … but are. There, you happy? I just want to make Christmas nice for everyone I care about, okay? And for your information, Loueen is up to her armpits in decorations, game and gift exchange planning, keeping the whole damn office in coffee, and making sure Perry doesn’t blow his stack this week, like he did last year. It wouldn’t be a good idea to let her give herself a heart attack, you know?”
His smile deepening into a grin, Clark leaned against her desk and folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you before, Lois. It’s … interesting.”
“Interesting?” Did he just seriously call her ‘interesting’? “Clark, I’ll have you know that making Christmas for the troops is the most important part of the holiday.” God, how she remembered Christmases growing up, where her family had taken the lead on whatever military base her father had been stationed at and made the most fantastic celebration for the troops, at all costs. After all, they were the ones in the trenches, and she and her mother and sister had been support staff. That was just the way things worked under General Lane’s leadership. A well-oiled machine. All civilian support dedicated to serving those who served.
“Lois … ” Clark started, his voice soft, “did you say ‘troops’?”
Snapping out of the trip down memory lane, Lois scowled. “Of course I did. Civilian support staff serves the troops. That’s the way it works.”
“This isn’t the military, Lois,” he went on, standing again, and smoothing his hands down her arms. “We’re not on the front lines here. And you, of all people, should be the one getting pampered for Christmas. I don’t want you to give yourself a heart attack, either.”
For a moment, nothing that Clark said even computed. Not on the front lines? He couldn’t be serious. “Clark, take a look around you. This place is as close to a precision military strike force as it could possibly be, without adding Army green to the mix. These are the trenches, and every one of you is a soldier. I’m just the woman out getting the stories. And I’ll have you know that I’m invulnerable to heart attacks. Not even French terrorists could kill me.”
Clark’s smile returned at that, as if something she’d said was hilarious. “Be that as it may, none of us are soldiers. We’re reporters. No one’s getting shot at-” he paused, seeming to laugh to himself as he shrugged one shoulder, “-well, not intentionally-and no ground will be lost if we lose a story to a competitor. We won’t have to bow down to a dictator if we get ambushed. There are no guns, no fatigues, no military transports, no letters from home, no missing family, no care packages. It’s Metropolis, and while there are people out there sacrificing their holidays, they do that so we don’t have to. I know you’ve been supporting the troops all your life, but you don’t have to make it your sole purpose to take care of every single person in your circle.”
Lois’s mouth hung open for a long time then, her mind spinning. Taking care of everyone was practically in her job description! Well, in Loueen’s, anyway, but as top City reporter, Lois was responsible for everything that went on in here.
“Are you kidding me?” she finally said, starting to feel like smoke was pouring out of her ears. “I’ve got twenty-three City reporters looking to me to take the lead here. And if I want to make Assistant Chief anytime this century, I’ve gotta bust my ass. No lying down on the job. And Christmas,” she added, poking a finger at Clark’s chest, “is my biggest priority behind getting this story in, in the next-five minutes now, thanks, Clark.”
Clark only laughed, a low rumbling sound deep in his chest, and smiled softly down at her. “Lois. Take a breath. Finish your story, and I’ll get it handed in. I’ll coordinate with the caterers for the party if need be, and if you want, I’ll help you with your baking and the ham and everything else. My mother’s a pretty good cook, and she taught me everything she knows.”
At that, everything ground to a halt. “Are you for real?” she asked, unable to keep the sense of relief and gratitude that swept over her in that instant out of her voice. If she didn’t have to do all this herself, then … then she might actually have time to get all those presents wrapped, assuming she could even find the other half of them. God, she could get it all done! She might even have time to get a few hours of sleep in at some point. Blessed sleep.
His smile widened, eyes twinkling behind those damn thick glasses, and Clark nodded. “I’ve got plenty of time. You really should’ve asked me earlier, you know?”
Huh. Honestly, the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Jesus, what had she been thinking? Of course Clark would give her a hand or two.
“You, sir, are a saint,” she said then, and without another thought, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Clark squarely. The sudden heat of his lips surprised her, and she found herself gasping, backing off with wide eyes. “Oh. Crap. I didn’t mean to-” she floundered, but suddenly, she found she wasn’t sorry at all. Just how long had she wanted to do that? Holy shit, she’d just kissed her partner! Her best friend, no less! Who … who was gazing down at her with those blue eyes, his lips parted in silent shock, adorable and handsome and-
“Aw, to hell with it,” she muttered, and lifting up again, she kissed Clark properly, her hands landing on his solid chest. The kiss was absolutely nothing like she’d expected, and everything she could’ve hoped as he responded in kind.
Some interminable time later, she realized Clark’s hands had slipped around her shoulders, and she broke the kiss, burying her face in his neck and hugging him back. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Clark laughed again, lightly. “You’re welcome, Lois. Um, we should probably get your story finished, you know, before the whole bullpen sees us like this. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
Pulling back enough to catch his gaze-mischievous, of course-Lois smirked at him. “Good point. We’ll pick this up later,” she added with a pointed look.
Where she would find the time to add this to the mix, she had no idea, but dammit, and there was no way she was backing down now. It wouldn’t be Christmas in the trenches without a challenge.
~*~*~*~