001 - First Article - Video (post-sirens)
[The brunette on the video sports quite a few cuts and bruises; it looks like someone didn’t take her first night out seriously enough. From the scene behind her, she’s in the shelter-dugout, for those who would recognize it.] Okay, newsflash of the hour: humans totally have parental instincts coded into them, and it sucks
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So when he actually heard her voice... He almost didn't believe it. And then she kept talking. Six words in, he knew he wasn't imagining it, and picked up his NV. The crystal came to life, flickering the video image on as the recording continued.
Lois.]
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[But she's blushing slightly. Okay, so she's a lot more turned on by this than she expected, and she's telling herself to cool it, they need to keep clear heads to work this out because letting her hormones run away with her just because Clark looks stunning and... and wow, it's amazing being up here in his arms like this...
Stop. That. Now.
Her heart's racing, her breath coming just a little quickly, and she bites her lip before smiling wryly up at him.]
Because we were doing so well at being on it to begin with.
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And now he's holding her, and she's looking up at him with all that love, all that wonder, her heartbeat racing, and he feels like he could soar.]
I love you, Lois. If you're alright with...all this, then I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No more breaks. No more secrets. No more Egypt. And if this is it... If I really am dead at home, then I don't want to waste a single moment.
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She doesn't.
On the one hand, there's not a doubt in her mind she'd do anything to stay with him the rest of her life. And she refuses to believe that he's dead, back in their own world--refuses to believe that they don't have a future in the world and city they both love so much. On the other... she's barely arrived, she's confused and a little lost. She wants nothing more than to go home to Metropolis, with him--and he doesn't seem to think he has a future anywhere but here.
It's a lot to take in.
So she just closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest, over the shield she loves so much.]
I love you too.
[There. Good start. Also, true, so.]
And you're not dead. I won't let you be.
[That part's said more fiercely, and her arms tighten around his waist reflexively as she remembers the sight of him with that knife in his chest.
And hell. He's the one who keeps leaving her, and it keeps scaring the crap out of her.]It's-- ( ... )
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Wrong dimension, Check
Evil corporations, Check
Monster movies, Check
People who know you but don't, Check
Boyfriend is an alien, Check
Boyfriend wears tights, Check
Honestly, he has to think about these things twice before he says them. But on the other hand--]
It's been hard here. Two months... I haven't seen you in two months, and there've been a lot of changes. I thought I might never get a chance to tell you.
[He can't admit that it's been frightening sometimes. That there have been days he didn't know what to do, and days he's cried, days he's thrown himself into action because otherwise the guilt of what he's done might have ripped him apart.]
Let's get inside, and I'll get changed into something a bit more sensible--and get you some of my coffee, there's probably none in your room.
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Still, right now, her entire face lights up at the prospect of getting coffee. She beams up at him and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.]
Coffee sounds great. I think there's a coffee maker, but not coffee. Bring some extra for the morning while you're at it, 'kay?
[It occurs to her, distantly, that the domesticity of that request is almost frightening and kind of ridiculously silly, considering they're in the wrong dimension.]
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It takes him about eleven seconds, but only because he doubles back twice for things he's forgotten, and eventually he catches up to her, his supersuit under his work-clothes, glasses on, shirt almost buttoned to the top. He has an extra outfit hung over his arm - his size not hers - and a paper bag full of essentials - loo paper, coffee, sugar, cream and his mug; she needs it more than he does.]
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And she just blinks, and understands now--even though she sees the blue from his not-quite-buttoned shirt--how he pulls off the two identities now that he's out in the open. And she gets what the irritating-as-hell billionaire meant by 'dork with glasses.' (She ignores the quiet part of her mind which reminds her that she always had a thing for geeks in glasses, and that he actually looks kind of adorable.)
And then she smiles, wryly.]
Hi, Clark. Come in?
[See? She gets it. Really.]
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Besides, he knows it's sort of cute, and he loves to tease her. Dream!Lois had found it sort of adorable too--that was, his dream of Brainiac and Lex destroying the world rather than his fantasies of the last two months, but hey, those counted too.]
Why don't you put your feet up and leave me to the coffee?
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Better for both of them, really, even if they know the truth. Social pressure just sucks, even if you can weather it.]
Think I'll, ah, go wash out this [touching the cut on her cheek] first. Got some advice to keep on top of it, so. Coffee-maker's over there.
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Perfect.
So the aroma of coffee is already wafting after her a few moments later, and he's slipping off his jacket, finding a hangar to put it on.]
I didn't even get to ask you--what the last thing you remember is. You said about the kiss in the alleyway, but what happened after that?
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Still, she's a little surprised to smell coffee already, and frowns a little as she keeps washing out that cut on her cheek. And she stays quiet for a moment, not really sure how to answer that question.
He already knows she knows, after all. Maybe there's no reason not to be honest.]
There were some bright lights in the sky--I'm guessing you had something to do with that.
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[It's a little more complicated than that. Well, 'yes' was probably the right answer...technically. Whatever--'sort of' sounded like 'yes' anyway, and it made sense in his head.
He dropped himself into the seat at the table and waited for her quietly.]
So you were coming toward them?
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[She's still in the bathroom at the time, but her tone is informative enough to make it clear that she has that raised-eyebrow, 'what did you do this time, Smallville?' expression on her face.
She pauses again, trying to figure out what to say to that.]
No, I wasn't moving at the time. I watched them for a while, trying to figure out what was going on--I think they might have faded by then? I don't entirely remember. [Because she was too busy dealing with Clark.]
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And then poof, alternate reality?
[He's sure she'll tell him--in her own time. Whatever it is she's holding back... He knows she has a reason.]
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[So maybe she's leaving out the part where she saw him with the knife in his chest, where she pulled it out, where she sat there holding him praying he'd be okay, because hell if she knew how easy to kill he really was.]
What about you?
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