8/Some Raw Muscle

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Some Raw Muscle
Date of Scene: 17 February 2020
Location: Lois' Apartment, Metropolis
Synopsis: Lois gets Clark to help move a fridge, and they end up talking.
Cast of Characters: Clark Kent, Lois Lane




Clark Kent has posed:
Once the door opens, Clark is right there on the doorstep, concerned and a little intense due to it. He's a mild, reserved man most of the time, but the worry about what this is about has drawn his dark brows together and brought a sharp focus to the blue eyes behind thick framed glasses. All he had to go on was a short text that Lois needed his assistance right away at her apartment, and he came over quickly.

Quickly, but not instantly. That would have been unreasonable, but he made VERY good time. He's in some ill-fitting jeans and an oversized Metropolis Unversity hoodie under the layer of his jacket.

"Are you all right? What's going on?" Clark asks quickly, clearly wanting to help his best friend if he can do so.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois Lane answers the door, dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt... very different than her usual professional business woman look. She does seem surprised, not because Clark's actually there but because of the speed. "I hope you didn't think I was dying or something over here," she comments, holding the door open to let him inside. "But I needed some help and I couldn't think of anyone better."

She steps out of the way of the giant refrigerator box half-way to her kitchen. "I could probably move it myself but I figured it would be good to have someone here in case this thing falls on me. To mourn me, of course." The actual help is implied, not spoken.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark is breathing heavily, how that he's actually letting himself take a breath (or perhaps remembering to breathe heavily), from maybe running up her stairs. Clark looked at her very critically, then leans in past the doorframe to look at the box. "I thought I might have to drive you to the hospital," Clark admits, but there's a wash of relief that that is not the case.

Taking in the box, Clark makes a quick gauge of what needs to be done, and steps inside, closing the door behind him. "Uhhh. They just delivered it, and left it here?" He looks at her with a mix of dismay and fondness. No doubt she figured she could handle it herself, and saved money on the labor.

"Looks heavy," Clark says uncertainly, eyeballing the box. "So I'm here to supervise, right?"

Lois Lane has posed:
"I mean, you might still have to," Lois points out, moving to stand next to the box. "Yeah, I knew there had to be a catch with how cheap it was. I should have just gone with a department store... you should have heard me arguing with them about not taking the old one and putting the new one in place. /They're/ getting a one star review."

She makes her way to the old fridge, trying to determine the best way of working it out of the kitchen. "I might need your hands at some point, Smallville, but your job is to use those sharp eyes of yours and make sure I don't die." She seems certain she'll be able to manage this.

Clark Kent has posed:
There wasn't a question of whether he'd help. Of course he would. Clark always does. "Well, let's get the old one out of the way," Clark suggests, looking at the box in the middle of the floor. "Maybe we can push this one over against the cabinets, then get the old one loose and pulled to the hallway first?" Clark suggests. He approaches the box with an uncertainty, as if to attempt to get a gist of how heavy it is by pushing it a little, disappearing behind the box. It doesn't move much of anywhere on his cautious attempt, of course, just shudders a little. He's meek about it.

"Might need teamwork," comes an uncertain, awkward audible fret from Clark from behind the box.

Then he peeks out. "Where's all of your food?"

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois points at a few grocery bags at the far end of the kitchen. "That's all there is. I've kind of been putting off grocery shopping so there's conveniently little to worry about. Fridge wasn't doing a great job of keeping things cold anyway." She goes to take a peek at the boxed fridge, then nods. "Alright, let's just nudge this guy over here and then we'll pull the other one out. Simple."

Lois, too, pushes on the box a little to determine its weight. She agrees with his assessment, then nods in his direction. "Push on the count of three?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"Ummmmmm," Clark hedges, pausing, stalling. Of course he'd want to fiddle around before actually doing something. "I'm pulling, right? So, towards me," Clark asks, looking behind him, then around at where it's going.

"Don't tip it onto me," he warns, but awkwardly slips into place near the side, trying to find a grip. "Okay, on three," Clark agrees, finally, and when she counts, he's ready, to tug-tug it back towards him, crowding him in. "Okay, on my foot a little," Clark yelps. He probably didn't put it there.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Watch yourself!" Lois calls, doing her best to push and nudge the thing towards the cabinets. "Your feet aren't meant to be /in the way/." She shakes her head as if to indicate that it shouldn't be that difficult. "I need you in one piece, Smallville... and the fridge, too." She gives the fridge a good shove, though this time it's without warning. Oops.

Clark Kent has posed:
Fortunately, Clark doesn't seem extremely hurt (or is downplaying it some), but his tone is unsure. "It's okay, I don't need my right foot for anything important," Clark says, a wince in his voice, though. "Whoa whoa, careful, Lois."

Still, they get the box moved, and Clark limps out towards the old fridge. He opens the door and peeks inside, as if looking for a quick snack. "Do you have some tape or something, to tape the doors shut?" Still, he looks along the edge of it and starts to slowwwwly ease-walk it out a few inches.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Oh, tape, that's a good idea," Lois comments. "I have some in the other room. I'll be right back. In the meanwhile, Smallville, walk it off. I'm sure your foot's fine, and if it's still hurting by the time we get the fridge where it's supposed to be, I'll take a peek and make sure you didn't smash anything vital."

She moves around the fridge and heads for the other room to quickly grab the tape.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark struggles with the fridge a little bit longer, until she's out of view. Then he moves it out about two feet and slightly wedges it to the side, as if he'd eased it and somehow managed to twist it - instead of actually just picking it up and putting it in the new position.

Clark has a bit of time while she's away, after all. He's squished himself between the fridge and the wall some when she returns, clearly trying to reach the plug to get it unplugged. It's all very awkward looking. Poor Clark, always stuck. "Got it unplugged," Clark says, muffled. And sneezes a little. "Dusty back here."

Lois Lane has posed:
"I can't leave you alone for a minute," Lois says with a sigh, looking him over. "I mean, good job with that but..." She chuckles lightly, moving to tape up the fridge doors. Once those are secure, she tries to figure out just how stuck Clark is back there. "Hope you're not allergic to dust."

She moves to a position, to try and edge the fridge out enough to free Clark from his fridge prison. "You should have let me climb back there, I'm smaller. Probably even more flexible... or so I've been told."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I... you're right," Clark sighs deeply. He's able to admit when Lois is right, to give way when he's wrong. "Let me try to squeeze out again, and we'll trade places," Clark suggests. He looks at the gap, and starts to sidestep out, dust-bunnies clinging to his sweatshirt and clumping near his hair from having been stirred up from the back. He 'sucks it in', and then steps back into his nook.

"I'll just push; sorry," Clark says, apologetic. "Or maybe if I..." Clark tries to turn the other way, and smush out. That works better. He extends a hand, silently requesting for her to pull.

Lois Lane has posed:
There's a small laugh. It's not at him, not really. Lois' smile isn't a mocking one either. The whole situation is just humorous and amusing. "Just hold on, Clark. I'll save the day." She reaches forward and takes his hand, moving to try and both pull on him and nudge the fridge out of the way at the same time. "I guess I just have to keep a closer eye on you so I can make sure you don't get stuck in another sticky situation."

Of course, Clark was the one always in trouble after all.

Clark Kent has posed:
"Uhhhhff, I don't need to breathe: it's fine," Clark huffs, and wriggles free, stumbling out from behind the fridge, though he doesnt fall /at/ her. He did lose his balance, of course, but seems to catch himself with a palm on the wall.

"Okay. Tag. You're in," Clark coughs, one hand up, possibly to suppress a sneeze. He sniffs and rubs his nose instead, moving to give her full access to slide back there. He's a lot bigger than Lois is - by a lot - so hopefully she doesn't dwell on THAT too much.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois puts a hand up to help him get his balance, but it turns out to be unnecessary as Clark seems to do well enough on his own. "Alright, hopefully I won't get stuck." She isn't really sure how he managed to get back there in the first place, but she's able to wriggle her way back there thanks to him having made room. "You're right, it /is/ dusty back here. Maybe I should clean it up before we put the other one in."

She disappears from view behind the fridge. "Hey, thanks for coming, by the way, sorry if I scared you."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark sighs, "Just glad you're okay, don't scare me," Clark answers automatically, as he looks to the fridge again. His motives are quite different than another person in the same situation might be: he intends to help, but he can't draw attention to his strength. Still, going too much the other way is also going to draw attention. "Ready to push? I think this one will move easier than that box, I have a better grip on this side," Clark assures her.

"Let's go out and to the-- uhhh, your left. My right," Clark suggests, peeking around the fridge to check on her, while he sets his hands on it. It isn't so important where he grabs it while she can't see him do it, after all.

Lois Lane has posed:
"I couldn't have just asked you to help directly. No one wants to spend their weekend helping someone move a fridge. /Two/ fridges." Lois tries to peek around the fridge, but it's a little too difficult. She can't see anything from this angle. "Okay, I'm gonna push, be careful, okay?" She uses her hands and a foot to push firmly forward on the fridge.

"I promise next time I'll let you know if it's an emergency."

Clark Kent has posed:
She's missing out! Lois is missing out on -- very little. He's just set his shoulder gently against the fridge and is steering it. "Very careful here, no more crushed feet, or I won't have any to walk home on, I'll be trapped," Clark answers, helping to draw it back as Lois pushes. It's good teamwork, he guides it out of the wedged position that he totally didn't put it in, and helps to slooooowly ease it out across her kitchen floor towards the door.

"Yes, start with 'Clark I'm not dying, and it's not a vital story'," Clark chuckles. "Hold on hold on, stop pushing. I need to open the door," Clark warns, orienting to turn around to get the door opened up for the fridge. "And we need to turn it ninety degrees."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Worst fate in the world, getting stuck at Lois Lane's apartment," Lois rolls her eyes, not that he can see them, but it's audible in her tone. "Just keep your feet free of the thing, it's not that hard." She helps it slowly wiggle forward bit by bit.

"Okay, turn it, got it," she can at least manage that part easily, waiting for him to open the door before she starts to turn it. "This is much more effort than I anticipated... I probably owe you for this, huh?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"It isn't like I'd intentionally hurt my own feet," Clark sighs, but lacks any defense, and takes the criticism like a whipped puppy. He did not, in fact, hurt himself. "My foot is okay, by the way," he adds, though, as they get the old fridge towards the door, and begin to rotate it. Clark doesn't often sweat, and he isn't sweating now, but in teamwork, the fridge finally makes it out of the apartment!

Clark huffs a breath, and offers her a high-five without any energy behind it at all. "Yes, you owe me," Clark confirms.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Good, if your foot was still hurting I was going to make you take your shoes off so I could make sure you didn't accidently break a toe or something," Lois states, reaching over to give him a high-five, equally tired. "Can't celebrate too much now, we've got to get the other one in." She smiles wrly at him.

"Better start thinking about what you'll call in for this favor. I usually wouldn't let you pick the favor but I feel bad about the foot."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I'll accept food; I ran over here in a big hurry," Clark says, lifting a sleeve to wipe across his forehead some, smoothing his part neatly back down. Clark's hair is always pressed neatly. Though it still has dust bunnies in it that he's not aware of, standing out in light gray against his black hair. It's gotten a little longer lately, out of the style he'd worn for years and years.

"Okay. The box," Clark says, limping back into the apartment. Looks like he's a liar about his foot being fine, and he's suppressing some pain, but not all of the limp. "I'm thinking that's you, I somehow stopped supervising," Clark observes.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois retrieves a box cutter from a 'junk' drawer in her kitchen, carefully working her way along to open the box entirely. She wrestles the cardboard out of the way, probably a little comically frustrated with it until it's finally out of the way and the fridge is ready to be moved. "I'll order some food when we're done," she assures him.

She positions herself at the back of the fridge, that way as they nudged it in closer she'd be able to plug it in. "Alright, come scoot it with me, this should be easy now that we know what we're doing."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark doesn't just supervise, but he keeps weight off of the 'injured' foot, watching her get started. He steps forwards once she's got some of it free to help remove the big pieces of the box, and draw them out of the way as well as the packing materials.

"Yep, not all the way back, you'll need to slip back and plug it in," Clark says, moving into position as he was in before to manhandle the front carefully. They have the gist of it and practice, though, so it should be short work! (Plus, well, Clark has made enough of a point about how useless he is, so it's time to help.)

Lois Lane has posed:
The fridge is backed up slowly, stopping only when Lois has to scoot back behind it to plug it in. "Okay, keep pushing..." She waits to move until it's almost impossible to get out from behind there, then simply climbs up onto the counter, escaping there instead of trying to squeeze around the edge.

She drops off the counter, then moves next to Clark so they can nudge the fridge the rest of the way. "Nice job." She says, stepping back to take a look at their success. "How's the foot?"

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark offered her a palm to help her climb down, though he doesn't necessarily expect her to take it. It was offered, not /forced/, though, in a distracted manner. He respects her absolutely, just his usual attempt to make things just a bit more easy on her, when she's willing to give a few inches of pride, anyway. "Jealous; I could not have climbed out that way," Clark observes.

His foot? "Hard to tell," Clark admits, putting weight on the foot cautiously. "I might want to ice it, did you save any ice around your fridge items there?" he grants a little grudgingly. "But your new fridge looks great."

Lois Lane has posed:
Surprisingly, Lois does take the offered hand as she climbs down. She is also rather pleased at the compliment. "Like I said, Clark. /Flexible/." She winks at him. "Anyway, take a load off, if the ice hasn't melted I should still have some of it in one of those bags, I sort of just kind of used it to chill everything else..."

She waves him off to sit down, moving to pull a dish cloth out of a cabinet and fill it up with ice. "What kind of food do you want?" She calls in his direction.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I get to /pick/?" Clark calls back, honestly surprised. A smile is on his face as he moved to sit down out her couch. He pulled his shoes off, but leaves his socks on. "This injury might be worth it," Clark observes. Usually Lois picks out what they're having, unless he brought food as a surprise! Not that that's ever a disaster: Clark picks some ridiculously tasty things, somehow. Like Mexican that tastes like it came directly from Mexico.

"How about Chinese? I'd enjoy eggrolls?" Clark offers, with his uncertain tone. "Or does the new Greek place deliver...?" That uncertainty is often exactly how Lois ends up picking the food.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Hey, don't get all excited Smallville. I'm not gonna cater to your every whim every time you get injured, you might just get into the habit of pretending you have injuries for attention," Lois calls as she wraps up the ice. A moment later, she's by his side, offering the cloth-wrapped ice for his use.

"I heard you say Chinese first, so Chinese it is. There's a little place around the corner I tried the other day that I'd love to get more from... they seem like the kind of place that needs regulars."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Thank you, Lois." Polite as always. Clark looks up from examining his foot to accept the bag of ice, and promptly puts it own on the bridge of his injured right foot. At least he's consistent about which foot it was. He settles with the ice there, holding it in place.

"Sounds wonderful," Clark says. "I'd like to support a small business." He definitely would: Clark sticks up for the little guy whenever he can, either in his stories or in life.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Great, I've got a takeout menu," Lois says, darting back into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the menu. Once she's got it, she plops rather ungracefully onto the couch next to him. "You said eggrolls," she points at them on the menu, leaning over to let him take a gander at the food options.

"Anything else catch your eye?"

Clark Kent has posed:
The sudden closeness caught Clark a little off guard, and he draws one arm up to the back of the couch behind her but not touching her. And he blushed. Maybe from the pain in his foot.

"Let's see," Clark says, pushing his glasses up and squinting at the menu, attempting to pull it so he can see it better. "Kung Pao Chicken," Clark suggests, turning the menu some in case she wants to look at it as well while he's studying it.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois peers through the menu, leaning over onto him a bit. "Mm, some kind of noodles, I think. You want soup?" She peeks over at him, clearly torn about the menu. "I think I want soup." The menu is snatched back. "Give me a second and I'll order."

She's on her feet, headed briefly to the other room to find her phone and call.

Clark Kent has posed:
The blush intensifies but he keeps attention on the menu. "This looks good," Clark suggests, pointing. "Pepper Steak with onions," he says, interested. "Soup? Sure, I'll--- yes," Clark agrees mildly as the menu is suddenly taken away, and Lois as well is off in a whirlwind.

The ice accidentally fell from Clark's foot, so he bends over to pick it up and return it to the top of his foot, taking his time to sift around with the ice to adjust it to hopefully stay in place a little bit better. Clark then looks towards where Lois vanished, listening in on her phone call.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois doesn't take very long, simply ordering food (and specifically extra eggrolls) and returning. She plops down on the couch next to him once more, this time sans menu to distract him with. "We've got about twenty minutes, at least. They're just down the street though, so..." She peers over at his foot.

"Ice helping?" She doesn't really /peek/, but she's clearly curious. "Can't tell if it's swelling."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I think so. Do you think it's swelling?" Clark asks fretfully, directly lifting the ice away, and allowing her full access to his foot. His sock is very chilled by the ice, for sure. "I can bend my toes, nothing broken," Clark assures her though, showing by moving his toes slowly. His feet are not small; he's a tall man, moreso than his slouching suggests in general.

"As unlucky as I am, though, I guess it could be worse than I think it is," continues the worried Clark.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois leans over a bit so she can examine his foot a little better. "I mean, it doesn't look swollen for sure." She very carefully touches the top of his foot, putting a little pressure on it. "Does that hurt at all?" She's mostly testing to see if the injury is something they should see someone about. She tilts her head. "I don't think it's that bad. The ice is probably all you need."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark sucks in a breath as she touches his foot, tensing up a little bit, but letting her touch and press on it. "Don't press on it," Clark says, embarrassed, and draws his foot away to replace the ice back in place.

"Thanks. I'll just continue to ice it, then." Clark does give her a brave smile. "I'm glad it wasn't my back this time." Clark and his carnival of injuries.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois makes a face at him. "Oh, it's fine. I forget you've got a low tolerance for pain, Smallville." It's said playfully, nothing particularly harsh about it. She lets him deal with his injury while she deals with plates and utensils for the food.

The food arrives and the two set about eating it, mostly occupying themselves with the eating rather than the talking--they're both hungry. When all is said and done, Lois is cleaning up when she remembers the fortune cookies at the bottom of the bag. She fishes them out, tossing one in Clark's direction.

Hers is cracked open and she peers at the 'fortune' within. "Oh, this one's good. 'You will have an exciting business adventure.'" She grins. "/Adventure/ is one way of putting it."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark catches it out of the air when it's tossed. He has these rare moments of weird agility now and then. He'll trip over a giant yellow curb, but catch something by reflex now and then. Luck, probably. Not that he opens it well, he fiddles with the plastic, trying to rip it.

But Clark opens it soon enough, and reads his, with a soft laugh. "'The one you love is closer than you think'," Clark quotes, ponderously. "That might not be wrong; I have a trip coming up to visit my parents," Clark says, with a reserved, softened smile, and a blush.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Nice catch, Babe Ruth." Lois quips, cleaning up a bit of the mess before sitting back down next to him. She laughs, literally facepalming at his interpretation of the fortune. "I don't think that's the kind of fortune referring to your parents, Clark." She glances towards the doorway. "Maybe that one got slipped in there by the cute delivery girl that dropped off the food. The food place is just down the street after all..."

It's teasing, but she's not poking him too hard. This is the sort of teasing she keeps a careful eye on.

Clark Kent has posed:
"You're the one that she delivered to," Clark points out, immediately blushing like she no doubt knew he would. "I've been wounded over here, entirely out of sight," Clark defends, lightly embarrassed.

Clark always dodges the dating questions; it would be rather out of character for him to do anything other than hem and haw around that style of topic. The shy man probably could indeed have love closer than he thinks, and not even be aware of it, or what to do with it.

Lois Lane has posed:
"The fortune cookie never lies, if it was meant to be it was meant to be." Lois states, as if it were undisputable fact. "One of these days you'll get out of your shell and find someone." She leans back against the couch, shutting her eyes to rest them. Food coma.

"I'm sure you'd rather swap and go on a 'business adventure' instead, right?"

Clark Kent has posed:
"No, I'm all right, I need all the help I can get here," Clark chuckles, waggling his strip of paper, and then setting it down on the table nearby, and then moving the ice off of his foot, giving his foot a rub of hand, checking it over with an expression of concerned strain, but then lowers his foot back to the floor, finally.

"But if you want mine, I'm willing to part with it," Clark offers to her kindly, with a nudge of his elbow to her side, and a quiet smile.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Careful, don't want you straining yourself further," Lois peeks open her eyes to look at him, shifting her weight to face him a bit. She reaches out her hand to take the slip of fortune-paper. "I'll take it if you aren't interested in finding love outside of your family. I could use all the help I can get."

She sounds more than amused. "I'm going to end up as one of those ladies with eight cats..."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Come on, Lois...." Clark moves a hand to her knee with one palm, and looks at her sideways from behind his glasses, amusement showing with the incoming mild tease. "You don't have time for a pet cat, let alone eight of them," he 'assures' her.

"That's how you end up on a Stakeout outside of a disreputable building on Valentine's Day stalking a senator with me," Clark reminds. "Hardly anyone can say they did THAT with their holiday. Unique approach."

Lois Lane has posed:
"You're very right, I only have time for one pet cat in my life right now, and I'm looking at him." Lois gives him an amused look, then shakes her head. "Really, with the amount of time I put in at work I don't know that anyone else would put up with my work ethic and schedule. Working professionals have the hardest time dating these days." She smirks. "Much less costumed professionals, I'd imagine."

She gives him a look. "Also, that was the best Valentine's Day I've had in a while so I'm not looking down on it."

Clark Kent has posed:
"I don't know if clowns date," Clark says, openly and thoughtfully. "I mean, I assume that they --- oh. Costumed, like heroes," Clark says, with a soft laugh at himself. "I mean, I'd imagine they get ALL of the dates. Anybody they'd want, really. Would /you/ say no to a date with one of them?" Clark wonders, and then laughs, "I mean, assuming you didn't also want to write a story about them as a secret motive?"

Clark flushes once AGAIN as she identifies the Valentine's Day, but gives her a rueful if appreciative smile. "Yeah, wasn't lonely, at least," Clark tries, slightly awkwardly, but with a warmth to the friendly smile.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Clowns," Lois laughs. "Clark, you seriously live in another world sometimes." She nudges him. "But I'm not sure if I would... sure, the story is always a secret motive, but they've got plenty of people they could date." She looks up at the ceiling. "I might've, once. I thought about it. Superman certainly had the appeal." There's a solemn note to that. "Anyway, I mostly just work now. Valentine's Day is just a day to buy yourself flowers and proofread."

There is, in fact, a small vase of wildflowers by the kitchen window, looking to be a couple days old.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I like clowns. I don't really understan how anyone could fear clowns," Clark rambles a little, but thoughtfully. The drop to Clark's expression at the Superman's mention is subtle but still certainly there. A perceptive person like Lois can certainly recognize it, if she's not to distracted inwardly or at the ceiling. The both of them - Lois and Clark - both had their relationships with the lost hero. Generally it causes a sort of withdrawn discomfort, with Clark: as if in some way he were still in denial about it, or hadn't found a way to fully mourn it.

"Yeah. The holiday is... too much marketing," Clark says, but he's turned subdued: even more than he usually is.

Lois Lane has posed:
"It's important, though," Lois comments after a brief second of letting that weird solemnety linger in the air. "It's important that people know they're loved." She gives him another little nudge. "But you're right, you're gonna see your parents and you can remind them that you love them." She seems weirdly thoughtful from that, clearing her throat a bit.

"Too much marketing," she agrees, sounding distracted as she moves to clean up from the meal.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark glances down as she nudges him, and his expression of introspection dissolves into a small smile. He's a quiet, gentle soul, and things do hit Clark a little hard, sometimes. Under the awkwardness there's a stalwart loyalty and /caring/ to the man.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here. During ...that," Clark says, finally, with an earnest quality, and mild guilt. Clark wasn't in Metropolis at the time, he was with his sick father. He missed all of it.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois looks up at him quickly. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. You had every reason to be where you were, a more important reason than anything." She shakes her head. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I should have... I should have checked in more, while you were gone. I know you needed time, you were dealing with serious things, but I just feel like I let you down somehow."

There's a vigorous shake of her head. "It was just bad timing. Everything bad happening all at once. It was rough, but I'm a tough cookie."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Yes. You were just fine, Lois. I got your message," Clark assures her, turning more towards her on the couch. He puts one elbow back onto the back of the couch, and props his cheek against the palm, burrowing his fingers into the side of his neatly parted hair for a moment as he allows his eyes to close. His expression is wrung, like a sponge squeezed of liquid, to where there's little left. He doesn't have more sadness right now, he's been running on a wrung-out level for a long while, without a lot of comfort.

"It helped. And I know you are. You're a gritty cookie, made of shards of broken glass, tough and hard to chew," Clark says, trying to joke, but it's a little flat.

Lois Lane has posed:
The flatness is enough of something that Lois picks up on. "Hey," her voice is softer, a tone she doesn't usually take with much of anyone. Clark's heard it once or twice, but it's rare. "Maybe I'm a tough, undelicious cookie, but not everyone has to be like me. You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Clark. And you don't have to be afraid of asking for help."

She pats his knee once, and then she rests her hand there for the moment. "You can talk to me, you know."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Yes, I know," Clark says, releasing a slow breath through his nose, and then giving her a brave smile. A little forced, but Clark is great at pushing things under the rug, and not asking for help from anyone. Selfless to the point of setting himself on fire: always the designated driver!

His blue eyes drop to the patting hand on his knee, but not in judgment so much as taking it in quietly. "Thanks. Really," Clark says, and manages to dare to fold his palm over her hand, gently and without any real weight.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois is doing her best to be supportive and comforting... but at the same time, she's Lois. Her other hand smoothly lands atop Clark's, sandwiching his hand between hers with a firm pressure. "You're really good at hiding, Clark. Damn best person at it that I've ever seen... and I've seen people try and keep things before. Plenty of times. It's my /job/. I don't know what scares you so much about the world but I want you to know when I say... that I will beat up anyone who hurts you."

It's said with such force that it's clear she's actually not joking. It's a very real promise.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I'll be all right," Clark replies, softened. "So long as we don't keep dropping refridgerators on my feet." Clark needed, clearly, another thing to worry about. The man is scared of heights and dogs and bees and spiders and public speaking and women and....

"I'm sorry there's no target to aim you at, right now, for punching," Clark says, sorry as usual, even if there isn't much to be sorry for. "But I appreciate having you on my side. Really."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois seems unconvinced. She's not sure there's much else she can do at the moment, however, so she gives his hand a little squeeze before she releases him from the prison of her own hands, returning them to her lap. "My point was, Clark, that you can trust me, if you need to talk. We've known each other for years. You're even the emergency contact in my phone." That part she probably hadn't told him. "If you need to just... I mean, I don't know." She rubs her face with her hands. "I'm just here."

That part she at least feels like she got out alright.

Clark Kent has posed:
When it's about Clark's difficulties or problems, he shrinks away into his burrow. But /Lois/ showing upset, that's another story entirely. And she's stressed because HE is stressed, which is an odd sensation to see. He needs to do better -- better at hiding his feelings from her, so that she's not impacted by them.

At first he's just unsure exactly what to do. Were this a family member, he'd know how to behave to comfort them. He kicks himself internally -- don't be weird, be a /good friend/, Clark -- and he attempts to drop his arm off the back of the couch and sort of try a sideways hug. Clark is iffy about a lot of physical contact; having people super close to him often seems to make him nervous for some reason. So he's making an effort to push through that. "You're helping," Clark tries.

Lois Lane has posed:
The side hug is unexpected, mostly because it was /Clark/ initiating it and not Lois. It's not just a reflex like it might be with most people, he's making a very deliberate effort and she's fully aware of it. At first, she's about to argue but... it's kind of nice. So instead of arguing, she leans into it, just a little. It doesn't stop her from the verbal interrogation though.

"Do you mean that I'm helping or are you just saying that because you think that's what I want to hear?" It's kind of an awkward line of questioning mid side-hug.

Clark Kent has posed:
"Well, okay, the questions might not really be helping, Ms. Investigator," Clark answers, with an uncomfortable laugh. He's not sure the hug was that great of an idea, or if it did what he intended, which was to sort of soothe or placate her.

Clark generally keeps out of physical contact with non-family, as it's a lot more difficult to mask some things that need to be masked physically; his physique doesn't mesh with the image he attempts to portray. So that she's only leaning a little, that's okay with him too.

"I don't know what's going on with me to explain it. I'm sorry," Clark ends up having to just shrug a little, eyes down.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Smallville, you're taking this and running the whole other direction," Lois says, turning so that she can face him and look squarely at him. "You don't need to be apologizing. I'm sorry that this /got/ you apologizing in the first place. I'm trying to make you feel better. Look, all I need you to know is that you can trust me and if you do feel the need to talk to someone, it can be me. Simple as that."

She looks him over, trying to assess if she's pushing too hard at this point. She gives him a wry smile. "If it makes you feel more comfortable I can prattle on about work."

Clark Kent has posed:
"All right, no more apologies. I'm sorry." Clark deadpanned it, but then smiles at his own turn of words. He lifts one hand and does a zip motion by his lips, flicks away the 'key', and pushes his glasses up his nose with a finger. His eyes are very blue at close proximity. But hopefully not /too/ familiar.

At least, not in a non-Clark sort of way. "I hear you, loud and clear. You dont need to threaten me with work topics. Although I did end up meeting up and talking to Captain America earlier."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois does take a moment to admire those blues, though it's difficult to tell if she's making comparisons or merely admiring the color of his eyes. She's drawn away from it, however, as soon as he mentions Captain America. She sits up. "What?! What'd you ask him? How'd that happen?" She gives him a critical eye. "Did he save you from something? You're obligated to tell me all of these things."

Clark Kent has posed:
"No; I just saw him, and started to talk to him," Clark says, shaking his head. And then lift a finger, "Off the record. I think were it on the record he would have headed immediately the other way." There's a brief smile there, and a small shrug. "It was in Centennial Park." Which is where the tomb and statue of Superman are located.

"We mostly talked about his view of heroism. What inspires him. His 'Avengers' team, a little," Clark says. "It wasn't an interview."

Lois Lane has posed:
"So you got to know him a bit, as a person," Lois sounds... jealous, perhaps. "That's a rare opportunity, I'd say. You got lucky." She leans forward a bit. "What's he like? Off the record, that is." Everyone's different off the record. "I kind of pictured you two as birds of a feather. You've definitely got the same chivalrous tendencies from what I've seen."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark considers his answer very carefully, there's a reflective look on Clark's face as he seems to draw up his response. "I liked him," Clark gives, at first. "He wasn't fake, or trying to impress me, was the feeling I got. I think he was skeptical since he knows I'm a reporter, but that's normal," Clark smiles a little, knowing Lois will know exactly what he's talking about. 'Reporter' makes a lot of people clam up tight.

"But we're meeting up again," Clark adds, reaching out to pick up his water class from the table from their earlier feast. "If you have some burning question, I can try to weave it in, but I don't intend to grill him."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Nothing on the record, of course, but I'd like to know something that's his favorite. Favorite song, book, poem, childhood toy, color, person... anything." Lois nods in his direction. "It's not a reporter question, it's just a friendly person-to-person question. Peoples' favorite things tell you a lot about them, who they are. It's a matter of what they value. People's values are incredibly interesting. And if you're gonna get to hang out and chat with him /off the record/, I'm just curious what he's like."

There's a grin. "I'm sure I'll have the chance to grill him on the record anyway at some point now that you're making connections."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Tell you what," Clark offers, with a chuckle, his arm moving a little. It was still partially behind her from the side-hug; he'd sort of forgotten about that it was there. She may have, too, until he nudges her with his forearm. "I'll introduce you, but I don't want to blow up a new friendship by treating the guy like he's just a story. I didn't treat Superman that way, and I don't want to do that here."

"It made me feel a little better, that there's a good hero like him out there. But sad, too." Sad, and guilty, and a mix of things he can't quite put a finger on.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Superman was never just a story." Lois sounds serious about that. "I like to think he thought of me as something other than just a reporter, too." She's certain he'll always be a sensitive topic, regardless of how much time passes. "I wouldn't mind a completely off the record meeting with him too, if nothing else. He reminds me of Superman a little bit. That would be nice to be around."

She does shift, just slightly, in case he decides he does need to remove that arm, but she doesn't seem bothered by it. She did forget about it for a while, in fact. "I think you have to be a good man to be a good hero. Got a hunch he's both."

Clark Kent has posed:
"No, Superman was a lot more than a story. To a lot of people. Still is, even now," Clark reflects, with a strange furrowing of his eyebrows, allowing his eyes to drop sideways and then close. But Clark rallies; she doesn't know what he's frustrated about, and there's no way to really convey it without blasting her with everything else.

"I think so, too. A good man or a good woman." Clark smiles. "Maybe Captain America is /more/ inspiring, in a way. A person does't have to be extremely powerful to make a really big impact and difference."

Lois Lane has posed:
"I don't know, Superman always inspired me in a different way, but it was personal." Lois seems unsure of explaining that, so she continues with something else. "I think there are plenty of people who make an impact. That's why I'm a reporter, I want the world to see what they have to say, I want that reach to be broadened. People should be able to see those who inspire them. It's nice to be a part of the process."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark can't apologize for Superman, and he did say he'd stop apologizing in general, so he just moves a hand to kind of partially attempt to squeeze her upper arm in a broad palm and start to withdraw. The dishonesty of it always starts to really tear him up at certain times, and this is one of those times.

"Truth-seekers, us," Clark anaswers. "Both the light side of humanity, and the dark. Maybe to end up with justice."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois offers him a smile. "Yeah, that is what we are, when it all boils down to it. We find out the truth and we let the world see what it deserves to see." Her smile turns to a grin. "Not always easy. Sometimes it means you're stuck waiting around on Valentines Day. Sometimes we've got to make sacrifices. But it's not bad, I've got you around. I can certainly say life would be harder without you around."

She pauses. "It was, when you were gone. It felt weird. I know it wasn't your fault, your dad was sick and that's... that's important. I just mean it felt weird without you there. You've got a place here, partner."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Yes. Moving refridgerators," Clark agrees, with a rueful little smile, those rare little quick ones that reveal straight white teeth and the glimpse of something else that doesn't fully shine through. Clark's still very wrung out: or thin, like a sun-bleached curtain. It's been that way since his father was sick. Like something dragged or was lost. Faith, maybe, in some way.

"Well, I came back," Clark says, with a heavier manner than he meant to. But he leaves it heavy, unwilling to joke about it at the moment. He very nearly didn't come back at all.

Lois Lane has posed:
"That was a friend favor, obviously," Lois points out. "And if you weren't here who would I have to help me?" She offers a playful smile, but it's not just from poking fun. She's trying to help with things--she may not know what's wrong, but she knows it's there. Not helping is /infuriating/. "You came back, yeah. So thank you for that. Maybe for selfish reasons." She pauses, then quickly adds, "Because I can give you half the workload."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Yes, all the paperwork," Clark snorts at her. That may not be a lie: Clark is fast at paperwork, an incredibly fast typist. Not inhumanly so, but fast. He draws his arm back in the last bit to bend and inspect his injured foot, feeling it through the sock a little. Seems it won't be falling off, at least.

"Remember when we used to have that hot rivalry? Who could get the interview out of Superman?" Clark asks, with a sideways brief smile. "Seems like forever ago. A decade's forever." Clark sighs. "Glad you came around to being a team. The stress of losing to you gets to a fellow."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois grins. "Superman liked me more, I think. Probably because I found him more often. Not always intentionally..." She does, at least, enjoy recalling that. "Yeah, a decade really is a long time. Feels like I've known you forever." There's a 'but' at the end that she never brings about, the implication that he's always harboring something just below the surface. "We make a good team, Smallville. Better to split the byline than to have to work twice as hard. Lois and Clark always get the scoop."

Clark Kent has posed:
"Maybe, but I saw him first," Clark defends automatically, sinking into the old 'argument' flawlessly, though there's no proof of that, not really. Lois may have, Clark may have, and it's never really mattered. Just whichever of them managed to get that interview.

While Clark often has something he holds, that's also just part of him: that shy quality, and friendship without requirements. "Yes, they do."