Platonic by Sue S. Rated: PG13 Submitted: June, 2007 For the purposes of this story, Metropolis is located within a day's drive of a very large and rugged range of mountains (more like the Rockies than the Appalachians). As always, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the hardy souls willing to beta for me. Many, many thanks to DJ, alcyone and Julia for all the time they volunteer on my behalf. <><><> Clark ducked his head when he saw Lois step out of the elevator. He had told himself this morning that today was the day he was going to take steps to get her to *really* talk to him. Now, seeing her, that resolve was leaving him. It had been almost a month since he told Lois that they couldn't be together. He spent his nights reassuring himself that he had been absolutely right in breaking things off between them. He spent his days bitterly regretting his words. He had expected histrionics or the cold shoulder from her. He had expected arguments and that famous Lane temper. In short, he had expected a fight. True, she had tried to talk to him the morning after. Her eyes had been red from crying as she tried to reason with him and it had broken his heart. He had told her, firmly and repeatedly, that they just couldn't be together. The day after that - and every day since - she had behaved as though he were only a casual acquaintance. She was so polite and courteous that it was as though none of it had ever happened. This new attitude was even worse than her indifference towards him when they first met. He was beginning to wish that she would simply ignore him instead of acting as though she barely knew him. This was not what he had envisioned when he told her they couldn't be together. Lois walked past his desk on her way to the break area to get her coffee, giving him a vague nod in passing almost as an afterthought. Behind him he heard Perry open his office door and call Lois over. Clark tensed, fully expecting to hear his name next. He wasn't wrong. "Clark, in my office," Perry barked out. Clark allowed himself a small sigh and squared his shoulders. If she was going to be cooly professional, he could do the same. He came into Perry's office and stopped a few feet in front of the desk. Lois was next to him, holding her still-empty coffee mug. "I realize that my attempt to give you two some time together last month backfired," Perry began, sending an uneasy ripple through both reporters in front of him. Their discomfort was not lost on him. "And I realize that maybe Alice is right and I'm meddling here, but I'm going to try and make it up to you." "Make it up to us?" Clark repeated slowly, risking a sidelong glance at Lois. She was watching Perry with a new wariness in her posture. "It just so happens that I have a story that necessitates sending two people." "What kind of a story?" Lois asked suspiciously. Perry held out a brochure and Lois cautiously took it from him. Clark looked over her shoulder to read along. 'In a world that's moving at the speed of light we sometimes forget to take time out for those relationships that mean the most. Complete ten days of survival training with Elliot Outfitters in a rugged and pristine wilderness and increase your levels of intimacy and interpersonal communication for years to come. Our sessions focus on topics like trust and conflict resolution as well as expertise with maps, compasses and distance-pacing. Couples will learn all the skills necessary to depend on each other in a life-or-death situation.' "It's like, well, it's like couple's therapy," Perry explained after both of them looked back up at him without speaking. "And?" Lois asked pointedly. "And?" Perry repeated, sounding a little confused. "Did something happen on one of their training sessions? Has someone died? Was there a misuse of funds? What's the angle for a story?" Lois clarified. "I need a couple to check this out. And you two are the closest thing I have to a couple. Besides, things seem to be somewhat tense between you two lately. Just because you're there for a story doesn't mean that you can't try and work through whatever it is that's come between you." "There's nothing between us, Perry. We're not a couple," Lois said bluntly. Perry waved as if to dismiss her words. "Regardless of what's happened in your personal lives, you *are* still a team. 'Lane and Kent - the team that delivers.' Or are those billboards we spent all that money on false advertising?" Spots danced in Clark's vision. If Lois had meant to hurt him than she had succeeded. Nothing between them? Not even friendship? He had never said they couldn't be friends. Did she really think he wanted to cut her out of his life entirely? "Those ads were not our idea," Lois said, her voice detached and calm. "And this story seems more suited for the Lifestyle section of the paper." It was eerie, Clark thought. Actually, it was downright frightening how casual she appeared. His mind began to race as he considered the possibilities. He would be alone with Lois. This could be a chance to repair the damage he had done. Conflict resolution - that was what the brochure promised. Maybe she would drop the act and acknowledge that he existed and that they were friends. Or, at least, that they had once been friends. "It's not about the ads," Perry finally said after a moment's pause. "And it's not your job to argue over what stories you do or don't write. This is my idea. Truth be told, I'd like to take Alice on this thing but she's a city girl and she'd never willingly go anywhere without indoor plumbing. So I'm going to send you two. You can come back and tell me if it's a fad or if there's some merit to it. You've both been working very hard lately and I know you won't take time off. Think of it as a working vacation. You're already signed up. I want you to finish up whatever stories you can this afternoon because you'll be leaving early tomorrow morning and you still need to get packed." <><><> A couple of hours later Clark had run through what seemed like hundreds of scenarios on how to approach her. Lois had moved into one of the conference rooms and was slowly leafing through a stack of accounting ledgers. He knocked on the door but she didn't look up. He stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. "Hi," he said softly. "Hello," she replied without even a glance in his direction. The brochure for the camping trip was lying on the corner of the table next to the stack of ledgers. Clark came over and picked it up. "Learn all the skills necessary to depend on each other in a life-or-death situation," he read from the text. "Yeah, that's never happened to us," she muttered under her breath. Clark set the brochure back down, feeling the faintest sense of hope that she had actually acknowledged they had a history together. "What are you working on?" he asked. "I'm going through the past expense accounts for the deputy mayor's office," she said without looking up. "Why? What are you hoping to find?" "I just heard that there might be a story there." Lois turned to the next page in the ledger, focusing all her attention on appearing aloof. She had hoped that it would get easier to ignore him with time but, truthfully, it only became more difficult with each passing day. Most days she was torn between giving him a piece of her mind and the need to cry her eyes out in the ladies room. She could see he was hurt by her indifference and that alone made keeping her distance oh-so-satisfying. "Do you need help? I could go through some of these..." He reached out to take one of the ledgers but her hand moved to cover them protectively. "No, thanks. I don't need any help." "It would go a lot faster." Clark tried again. "No, thanks," she said again. He watched her for almost a minute, feeling the full brunt of her snub sink in. He was about to turn to leave and then decided to take one last chance. "Lois, will you please talk to me?" he asked softly. "I'm sorry?" Her forehead furrowed as if she were confused but she still didn't look up from the ledger in front of her. "You don't talk to me, Lois. You talk at me." "What did you want me to talk to you about?" She turned another page, noting with dismay that her hands were starting to shake. No crying, she told herself. No crying. Don't give him the satisfaction. He sat down in the chair next to hers and turned to face her. "You can talk to me about anything. That's not my point. You act like I'm a stranger." Her head turned and their eyes met. "You are," she said accusingly. "You're not the person I thought you were." For a moment her eyes grew moist and full of pain. They both took a deep breath and she looked away. Clark reached out and touched her hand. "Let's talk about that." "No." She blinked and the polite mask she wore fell back in place. "I'm safer this way, Clark, remember? I don't know you. I never did. Excuse me." She abruptly left the conference room without the ledgers or her notes. Clark gathered them up to return them to her. Then he saw her through the conference room's window as he approached the door. She was sitting at her desk, her fingertips carefully swiping beneath her eyes. The gesture sent a cold stab of guilt through him. How much effort was it costing her to maintain this polite exterior? How deep did the hurt go? He hated himself for being the cause of her pain. It was better this way, he told himself. Surely it was better to hurt her in a hundred little ways than to have someone else hurt her in a way that could never be healed? Maybe this assignment that Perry had given them would be a good thing. They could find a way to be friends again - a way to work together as a team. He could still have her in his life. He missed her. He missed their late night phone calls and having her voice be the last thing he heard before sleep. Knowing that he could never truly be with her didn't change the fact that they had been together, however briefly. Didn't she understand that those glorious few weeks would be lost to them forever if they couldn't still be friends now? Didn't she miss their friendship? <><><> After loading his gear into the back of the Jeep, Clark got in on the passenger side and looked at Lois expectantly. She ignored him, pretending to be consumed with watching the non-existent oncoming traffic. It was just past four in the morning and there were relatively few people on the streets of Metropolis. She pulled out onto the street and began to head out of the city. After nearly ten minutes Clark couldn't take the silence any longer. "Lois, you're going to have to talk to me on this trip. You do realize that?" Lois frowned and mentally cursed Perry yet again for meddling. "Just because I have to talk to you doesn't mean that we're friends." "I never said we couldn't be friends," he told her, thoroughly frustrated now. It was beyond depressing that the person who knew his deepest secret acted as though she barely knew him. They stopped at a traffic light and she looked over at him with her eyes narrowed. The streetlight above them illuminated her face and he saw a little of the anger and hurt she had been hiding so carefully. "Friends?" She practically spit the word at him. "Friends is too close for you. Friends could get me hurt. What if someone found out I was Superman's friend? My god, can you imagine?" The words were laced with chilly sarcasm. "People already know you're friends with Superman." He tried to keep his tone reasonable. "Then I guess we shouldn't be friends anymore." The light changed and she gunned the engine, grateful to have an outlet for the aggression she was feeling. "Lois, please." Clark reached over and touched her shoulder, feeling almost desperate to connect with her. "Friends? Okay?" Her jaw clenched as she fought the urge to say something nasty to him. It was like the floodgates had opened and everything she had held back for the past month was threatening to burst forth. Ten days - she was going to have to spend ten long days with him. The time stretched in front of her like a prison sentence. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of thinking that he had that much influence over her. Besides, staying angry with him would take too much energy. "Friends," she relented. "For the purposes of this story only. But don't expect that I'll treat you any differently than I would any other reporter I was on assignment with. This is strictly platonic." "Of course," he said softly and withdrew his hand. "Just because we can't date doesn't mean we can't be friends." She didn't answer him. Her shoulder tingled where he had touched her. Damn him for that. It was grossly unfair that he could have such an effect on her when he obviously could turn his feelings on and off as it pleased him. Damn him for ever making her fall in love with him in the first place. Damn him for Superman and for saving her and for presenting that squeaky clean image to the world when the truth was he was as low and callous as every other man she had known. It was the height of irony to her that Perry was sending them away to work on building trust. If there was one thing she had learned the hard way it was that Clark Kent couldn't be trusted. <><><> It was nearly three o'clock when they reached the tiny town of Braddock, located high in the Copper Mountains. "Kent and Lane?" a dark-haired man asked as they got out of the Jeep. "We were starting to think you weren't going to make it," he said pointedly and looked at his watch. He had a scraggly beard that gave him a vaguely unsavory look. Lois, who had stopped talking to Clark nearly fifty miles back when he first began to point out they were going to be late, now fought the urge to say something sarcastic. She settled for, "We still have ten minutes until we're supposed to depart." The man looked at his watch again and frowned. "Yes, and there are still waivers for you to sign and your gear to stow. Get your gear on the trailer; we leave at exactly three o'clock." Lois gave Clark a disbelieving look, one eyebrow raised. "This is the man who's supposed to be teaching us about interpersonal relationships?" "No, that would be me." Lois turned to see a pudgier and grayer version of the impatient man she had been talking about. He held his hand out to her, "I'm Dave, that guy is my brother Rich. He's the outdoorsman. I'm the therapist." Dave beamed at them, seemingly delighted that they were there. He cheerfully gestured behind him at the small group of people who were now climbing inside the dark-colored van with 'Elliot Outfitters' emblazoned on the side. Two canoes were secured on top of the van. Three more canoes were strapped to a trailer behind the van. "Let's not antagonize Rich any more than we have to, even if it is fun. Get your gear on the trailer and we'll make our introductions as we drive." Everyone else was in the van by the time they had moved their gear on to the trailer and secured it. Lois climbed in first, working her way along the side of the van to the only free seat left in the very back. Clark sat down next to her and she scooted across the bench seat until she was practically hugging the window. It was hot in the van and she wondered if the air conditioning was broken or if it just didn't reach all the way to the back. Unfortunately the window didn't look like it opened. Hopefully they wouldn't be in the van long. Lois wasn't sure why - she had never been claustrophobic before - but she was definitely feeling that way now. Dave, sitting next to the door on the first bench, slid the door shut. The van made a careful half-circle in the parking lot before pulling out onto the road. Once they were on their way, Dave turned in his seat to address them all. "Hello!" he chirped and then tilted his head slightly, waiting. "Hello," they all chorused back with varying degrees of enthusiasm. "I'm Dave Elliot and this gentleman is my brother Rich," he gestured to Rich, who was sitting in the front passenger seat. "About six years ago we decided to leave the rat race behind and do what we really loved, which is living in the great outdoors and helping people unlock their potential. The idea for these sessions has evolved over time. We started out working with corporations who wanted intensive team-building activities. This summer is the first season we've included couple's therapy. I have to tell you, we've had great success so far this year and I'm certain this group will be no different." Ahead of them the other couples all gave each other smiles or a little kiss. Lois rolled her eyes. Dave was far too cheerful and positive. He simply had no idea what he was up against. Still, everyone had to learn to live with failure. At least he was a therapist - he'd get over it. "So let's all introduce ourselves, shall we?" Dave turned to the couple sitting next to him. They appeared to be in their thirties, both of them blond and tanned, and they looked like bookends. They were even dressed alike, Lois noted with disgust. Heaven help them both if she started dressing like Clark. "Hi, I'm Bob Musgrove," the man said. "And this is my wife, Jenny." "We've been married for seven years now," Jenny added, looking over her shoulder at the rest of them. "We have a son, Dustin, he's three. He's staying with his grandparents while we're gone." The couple behind the Musgroves introduced themselves as Jim and Brenda Sinclair. They had been married for twenty-eight years and had three children. Their youngest son had just left for college and they were coming on this trip as a way to reconnect. Both of them looked far younger than their stated ages of fifty-five and fifty-three, respectively. The next couple were George and Debbie Rawlins. They had been married for two years. George looked like he was rapidly losing his hair. Debbie was slim and small, with auburn hair in a long thick braid. "We're talking about having a baby," George said. From the strained smile on Debbie's face, Clark got the impression that George was the only one talking about it. "And what about you two?" Dave asked after neither Lois nor Clark volunteered any information about themselves. "Married?" "I'm Clark Kent and this is Lois Lane." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "We're engaged." They were supposed to be a couple on this outing, after all. He hated to force her hand on this one, but it seemed necessary. Lois choked on a sudden cough and flashed Clark a sweet smile that promised retribution later. Then she turned her attention to the van's window, looking for a latch or a way to open it and get some air. "Wonderful!" Dave turned further around in his seat to grin at them. "Do you have a date set for the wedding?" "No," Clark admitted. "We're, uh, we're still kinda sorting through our options." "How did you two meet?" Dave asked. "We work together," Lois said before Clark could invent another outrageous lie. "It's a bad idea, isn't it? Dating your co-worker?" Dave laughed. "Not necessarily. There are a lot of factors. How closely do you work together? How flexible are you willing to be? I think you can make just about any relationship work if you're willing to be flexible." "Only if you can respect each other's judgment and share big decisions," Lois said pointedly. "Well, of course." Dave cast a curious look at Clark. "But don't you also have to be tolerant and realize that sometimes the greater good has to come first?" Clark asked lightly. Dave tapped a finger against his lips and nodded sagely. "Tolerance and understanding are the cornerstones of any relationship." "Yes, and honesty and respect are the other two." Lois gave up on opening the window and lifted the collar of her t-shirt and vented it in an effort to cool down. "I can't trust anyone who can't be honest with me or respect my opinions." "I respect your opinions," Clark told her. Seeing Dave still watching them, he shrugged and said to him, "I guess you can see why we decided to give counseling a shot." Dave gave him a smile. "I think it's wonderful that you can be so direct with each other. The fact that you're both here is proof that you want things to work." Clark didn't have the heart to tell him that their only other choice was unemployment. <><><> Lois was becoming worried. They had driven through a long canyon and now the van was on a narrow, winding road that was climbing higher and higher above the canyon floor. It was a breathtakingly beautiful view, but the van's driver seemed a little too nonchalant about where the edge of the road was. It was okay, she told herself. If, heaven forbid, they went over the edge, Clark would figure out a way to save them. She looked away from the window, feeling more than a little dizzy now. Just as she was certain they were never going to stop, the van pulled into a muddy turnout and the driver turned off the engine. "Today will be a crash course in using a map and compass to arrive at a specific site. We've marked the trail we'll be following on your maps, just in case we become separated. If you think you're lost, sit down at the side of the trail and wait. We'll come find you. Understood? Good. Now everyone pick out a canoe and bring it along. It's only a little over a mile to the river. From there we'll head downstream about seven miles to the lake. We'll cross the lake and set up our base camp." "Base camp?" Debbie repeated, looking almost as overwhelmed as Lois felt. "We can rest when we get there, right?" "I know," Rich said reassuringly, "it sounds like a lot. But we have a good five hours of daylight left so just go at your own pace. Although I should warn you, the last couple to arrive will be assigned tonight's camp chores. Part of your training out here is learning to work as a team. I believe that competition only motivates when there's a clear goal or reward to win." Lois smirked, feeling a little more magnanimous towards Clark suddenly. Between her competitive streak and his natural talent there was simply no way in hell they could lose. "So, this base camp, we'll be staying there for the rest of the time? We're not going to have to haul everything to a new location every day, are we?" Debbie still looked a little nervous. "We have a couple of long hikes and lots of other activities planned but we'll spend the next seven nights at base camp. The last two days will be spent navigating down the river to pull out." Rich clapped his hands together and then gestured towards the canoes. "Get your stuff and a canoe and let's get going. You'll find a map and a compass taped to one of the seats in your canoe." The group moved to the canoes. Jim and Brenda loaded their gear into a canoe and lifted it above their heads, moving off down the trail immediately behind Dave and Rich. Lois opened her backpack, taking out a floppy hat and a pair of sunglasses and put them on. The van pulled away, giving them a friendly honk before it disappeared around a corner. Debbie and George put their packs on and lifted their canoe above their heads, moving off down the trail. Bob and Jenny had loaded their gear into their canoe and were now experimenting with how best to carry it. They finally decided to hold it near their waists. They disappeared over a rise in the trail and Lois turned to Clark. "Okay, here's what we should do - you fly the canoe and our stuff to the lake and then come back for me." "What?" Clark shook his head. "No way." "I'm sorry?" The smile she had plastered on her face began to fade away. "I said, 'no way'. I'm not going to cheat, Lois. We're here to work as a team. And if that means carrying a canoe for a mile, then we're going to carry a canoe for a mile. Besides, it's not worth the risk of getting caught." "A mile? Are you kidding?" Lois dumped her backpack into the canoe in frustrated dismay. "You're really going to make me haul this canoe in the hot sun for a mile?" "Look at this way, you'll have shade." Clark bent to pick up the back end of the canoe. "Let's portage." <><><> After only fifty yards Lois was ready to scream. They had stopped three times already, still trying to find a way to work together. They had started with their packs and gear loaded in the canoe, only to lose it all when her grip slipped and she dropped the front end of the canoe. After that they had put on their backpacks after lashing their sleeping bags to the bottom. Clark had tied the bag with their tent to his pack as well. They stopped again when her sleeping bag fell off her pack. Clark fastened it to one of the crossbeams on the canoe. On the final stop they had turned the canoe upside down to give both of them a better grip. Irritated by the canoe follies and spoiling for a fight, Lois didn't try to hide the scorn in her voice as she asked, "Engaged, huh?" "I figured that way you'd have to talk to me. It's supposed to be couple's therapy, you know." "I just hope you realize that sharing a tent with you isn't going to give you any kind of conjugal rights." Clark could feel the blush creeping up the back of his neck. He didn't answer her, certain that no matter what he said it would be the wrong thing. After a few minutes of silence Lois decided to try another conversation so she wouldn't have to pay attention to the way her arms were beginning to ache. "So what are we? Seriously? If we're supposed to be working towards an improved relationship while we're here, that is. What do you see as the likely outcome?" This time he knew exactly what to say. "I want us to be friends again." "Friends can mean a lot of different things. Casual friends? Friends who once dated? Friends who hang out together? Or just a friend from work that you only see during daylight hours? What kind of friend do you want me to be?" Clark sighed and shifted the canoe slightly. Ahead of him Lois stumbled at the added weight. "Sorry," he told her, pulling up on the canoe to take more of the burden which only made her grab frantically for it when it lifted away. "Clark! Make up your mind! Are you helping or hindering?" "Sorry," he said again, eyeing the taut line of her arms as she re-established control of the front end of the canoe. She had wrapped those arms around his neck so many times in an embrace. A month had not muted his sense of loss at the fact that she never would hold him like that again. "We're dead last, you know," she grumbled. "Dead last and probably lost to boot." "We're not lost," he told her. "Wanna bet?" "Lois, do you know what the number one way not to get lost is?" "Always know which way is north?" she ventured. "Never leave the trail." "Why would I leave the trail? Do you see how you undermine me? You're implying that you think I'm going to get lost out here, aren't you?" "No, of course not." Clark shook his head - how could she twist his words so completely? Had she ever truly understood him or was this new denseness on her part just her latest way to punish him? "I suppose you never get lost, do you?" she snarked. "Not really, no." "Is that because you never leave the trail?" "No," he grinned. "It's because I always know which way is north." "Smartass," she muttered under her breath, knowing full well he could hear her. <><><> Lois entered their tent, zipped the flap closed and then crawled to her sleeping bag. She flopped face first onto it and rested her head on her tired arms. "I was starting to wonder if the mosquitoes had carried you off," Clark said without looking up from the book he was reading. She didn't reply. It had been the longest day of her life. She had driven for hours, carried a canoe for over a mile, paddled until her arms were sore and then helped to pitch a tent that had a mind of its own. After that she had to help gather firewood, start a fire and haul three buckets of water from the lake to use for cleaning up after dinner. Dinner. Her lips curled in disgust at the memory. Obviously Perry loved his wife more than his employees because "food" was the wrong word to describe their dinner. It was ostensibly spaghetti, but it had been freeze-dried and then reconstituted. She had picked at it glumly. In the end she only finished her portion because she knew that a hunger strike wasn't going to fix anything. It was all too much, really, and having to pee in the woods was just the final straw. Not that she was going to give Clark the satisfaction of knowing just how much she loathed being in the mountains. Especially with him. Their first assignment, given to them as they had all huddled around the fire after dinner was to look back on the day and compare their individual communication styles after they got back to their tents. Clark had actually taken the assignment seriously but she had been in no mood to talk to him, opting instead to put her boots back on, grab a flashlight, and wander around outside. By daylight their base camp had seemed ruggedly beautiful. They were camped on the edge of an alpine meadow boarded by a thick forest of spruce that gave way to a massive cliff wall that rose nearly a thousand feet high. They had set up camp roughly a hundred yards from the lake. The sense of isolation had been thrilling - until the sun went down. In the dark that isolation and the eerie quiet of the mountains now felt creepy and ominous to her. When her teeth began to chatter from the rapidly increasing cold she had finally scurried back to their tent and its relative warmth and safety. Lois sat up now, determined to put on more layers than just the flannel pajama bottoms and long-sleeved t-shirt that she was currently wearing. She pulled her boots off and tossed them towards the tent's entrance. Her left boot bounced off of Clark's shin and she kind of wished that could have hurt him, just a little bit. She allowed herself a grim little smile - how did he like her style of communication now? "Hey, campers! Mind if I come in?" Rich asked from outside their tent. "Um, no, come on in." Even as she said the words she wondered where exactly Rich planned to sit. Between them and their backpacks there was precious little room left in the tent. It supposed to be a two-man tent but she thought the manufacturer was being overly optimistic. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the sweatshirt she had packed and put it on. Rich settled for unzipping the flap and sticking his head in. "I'm just checking up on everyone." He paused and his smile suddenly looked more genuine. "You know, it gets pretty cold here at night. You'd be better off to zip your bags together and spoon. Good night!" With a growl of the tent's zipper he was gone. "Don't even think about it," Lois warned, yanking a pair of socks out of her backpack to put on over the ones she was already wearing. "Hey, I'm not the one who gets cold." Clark fought the urge to smile and tried to concentrate on his book. It was hard to do since Rich's comment about spooning had now captured his imagination. "You're also not the one whose arms hurt. Why couldn't you have just paddled a little harder? We should have been the first ones here!" "Lois, we lost time carrying the canoe." He didn't look up from his book, which just irritated her even more. "That's exactly my point! You could have carried it alone. I can't believe you made me help." "This from the woman who complained that I couldn't be just an ordinary guy?" The words on the pages in front of him made absolutely no sense to him anymore, but he didn't put the book down. "That was entirely different," she countered. "So maybe this time I'm doing it for me and not you." "You don't care that I'm sore and tired?" She scowled at him, willing him to put the book aside and talk to her. She'd have plenty to "share" tomorrow morning when Dave asked about their communication styles. And, unlike Clark, she wasn't about to sugar-coat it or outright lie to everyone about the true nature of their relationship. "Of course I care. But part of the point of being here is to work as a team. Out here we're completely equal. You have to do your part." He tried to keep the words mild, but he could feel an anger equal to hers begin to bubble up inside him. She had ignored him for the past month and now his purpose in life was to accommodate her whims? "You just never run out of ways to punish me, do you?" She found another pair of socks and put them on her hands as makeshift mittens. "Why would I want to punish you?" Clark looked over his book at her, bemused to see her unsuccessfully trying to zip closed her backpack. He thought about suggesting she take the socks off her hands to do it but knew that would just be pouring gasoline on the fire. "For turning you down. I sometimes think you broke my heart just to get even." She gave the zipper another ineffectual tug. She knew that he was watching and it only made her feel even more inept. "Lois, I never meant to hurt you. I should never have called things off with you like that." "Oh ho," she said, latching onto his choice of words. "It's not that you're sorry you broke up with me, is it? You're just sorry you did it *like that*!" He sighed and didn't answer. Instead he put the book aside and propped himself up on one elbow to face her as she continued to vent. "In all this time, Clark, you've never even once tried to see things from my perspective, have you? Whereas I, well, I actually tried to look at it from your point of view. And do you know what? It still doesn't make any sense! If you don't want me, that's fine. But don't expect me to be all friendly and happy about it," she said flatly and pushed her backpack away, giving up on getting it closed. "Lois," he said softly, "it was never because I didn't want you. It was because you're safer..." "That is such utter and complete crap that I don't even know where to start. What about your parents? Are you no longer seeing them for their protection?" "That's different. My parents aren't in Metropolis all the time. And they aren't constantly putting themselves in danger." "My god, you are the densest person alive! Did Bob Fences lure me there on some pretext because he knew about you? No! He didn't! He had no clue! Do you realize how stupid your logic is on that one?" "Lois..." "I'm done talking to you. Please just leave me alone." She climbed inside her sleeping bag and wished she were somewhere - anywhere - else. She went to zip the bag closed but had to pull off a sock to do it, letting out a frustrated growl in the process. Clark turned off the lantern. It seemed safer to let the subject drop. If he left the light on they'd only continue to argue. Lois sighed, tossing and turning so that her feet kicked against his legs as she moved. He knew she was trying to get warm and comfortable but it was still irritating. He wasn't about to remind her of Rich's advice. The thought of spooning with her now was singularly unattractive. Finally he couldn't take her pointed sighs and restlessness any longer. It was as though she was blaming him for the cold outside. "You know," his voice broke the darkness, "there is some sense in what Rich said about zipping the bags..." "No. I'd say when hell freezes over but I'm already in hell and it's freezing and there's still no chance of that happening. What part of 'I'm very upset with you' are you not getting?" "Suit yourself." She could hear him turn away as he said the words. She shivered further down into the sleeping bag and promised herself that she would find a way to make Perry pay for this. A few minutes of quiet went by as she plotted and then-- "You could put a hat on," he said. "What?" "The majority of your body heat is lost through the top of your head. You could put a hat on." "A hat?" she snapped. "The only hat I brought was for shade. I didn't realize we were going to be exposed to freezing temperatures." Clark decided not to point out that 'near-freezing nighttime temps' was specifically mentioned as a factor on the list of required equipment. "Pull the bag over your head." "And then I'll suffocate!" "Never mind then." She let out one more irritated sigh, an obvious indictment of his failures in general, and then she ceased to be restless. He didn't dare ask if it was because she was feeling warm at last. <><><> The pristine silence of the early morning was shattered by the loud and insistent ringing of a cow bell. Clark sat upright, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at Lois or, more accurately, at the writhing bump buried deep inside her sleeping bag that had begun to groan. "What in the heck is that?" she mumbled. Her sleep-tousled head appeared out the top of the bag and she frowned accusingly at him. "It wasn't just a bad dream. We're really here." "Good morning to you, too," he said lightly. Lois squinted at the top of their tent before crossing her arms over her eyes to block the light that was filtering in through the pale blue nylon fabric. "I should have brought a pillow," she sighed. "I had no idea I would miss my pillow this much." "You could just wad up some clothes," he suggested. The sound of the cow bell was coming closer and Rich was beginning to sing out, "Rise and shine! We're burning daylight here!" "I don't think I like Rich," Lois stated. "I've given it a lot of thought and I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to kill him. Would you help me hide the body or are you going to make me lug it around by myself in the interests of equality?" "Good morning, Sunshine! Up and at 'em!" Rich called out from just outside their tent, ringing the bell to punctuate each word. "Anyone alive in there?" "We're awake!" Clark yelled back. Rich moved on, still ringing the bell. "What time is it?" Lois asked, unwilling to move her arms from over her eyes. "It's almost six-thirty," Clark said after checking his watch. "Really? It seems so much earlier than that." Outside the bell stopped ringing. They both let out relieved sighs. "Can you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds?" Clark asked. "I'll just hurry and get dressed and leave the tent so you can get dressed." "Sure. Fine. Take all the time you want, I'm not moving from this spot until Rich actually comes in here and drags me out." She had barely finished speaking when she heard the zipper on the tent's flap opening. She moved her arms, propping herself up on her elbows to watch him leave. "Tell Rich I'm sick or something, won't you?" "Ha," he said, grinning at her. "Don't be too long or I'll borrow that bell." She laid there for a couple of minutes but the air was too cold to entice her to leave the warmth of her sleeping bag. Then the smell of coffee reached her and she weighed her options. In the end, the aroma was too delicious to ignore so she dressed as quickly as she could, pulled on her boots and went in search of some caffeine. <><><> "They're actually not that bad," Bob was telling Jenny as Lois took a seat between her and Clark on the oversized log they were using as a bench. "Give them a try." They were dressed alike again. Both Bob and Jenny were wearing khaki pants paired with long-sleeved red shirts. Jenny was picking at a plate of scrambled eggs and she looked like her night had been every bit as miserable as the one Lois had just endured. Lois wondered if they had zipped their sleeping bags together and spooned. "But they're powdered eggs," Jenny said and wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I can eat powdered eggs." "There's ketchup," Clark said helpfully. "If you put enough ketchup on them they're not bad." "You put ketchup on your eggs?" Lois gave an involuntary shudder as she eyed the sea of red on the plate Clark was holding. Had she actually kissed this man? With tongue? It was a darn good thing she was never going to have to kiss him again. "I know what you mean. Debbie puts ketchup on everything," George said. "It's really kind of disgusting." "This from a man who eats Oreos with salsa?" Debbie shot back. "That's more disgusting." Everyone looked at George. He shrugged and said, "Hey, don't knock it til you've tried it." "I have tried it," Debbie said. "It was revolting." "Good morning, Lois!" Rich came over and held out a plate to her. "Oh, um, I usually just have coffee in the mornings," she demurred. Like Jenny, she wasn't sure she could eat powdered eggs. "Not out here you don't." Rich didn't look the least bit offended. "Out here it's imperative that you keep up your strength." She took the plate grudgingly and looked over at Jenny. "You know," Lois told her, "when they said 'life or death situations' I didn't think it would come to this." <><><> "How did everyone sleep?" Dave asked cheerfully. "Today we're going to start thinking about the ways we communicate with others, especially our partners. I asked you to think about and compare your communication styles last night. Today, with that in mind, we're going to lay down some ground rules to work from for the rest of our time out here, okay?" When they all nodded or murmured assent, Dave continued. "Conflicts can't be avoided. Differing opinions are just a fact of life. But you can actually strengthen a relationship if you know how to effectively communicate with each other. Think of these as the ground rules. Four little principles that are the tools you'll need to remain neutral and work towards a positive outcome." Lois sipped her coffee. It was instant coffee and she was beginning to feel like a food snob. At least the coffee was better than the eggs had been. "The first rule is that only one person speaks at a time. And the second rule is that we make a sincere commitment to listen and actually try to understand the other person's point of view before we respond." Lois cleared her throat softly, risking a sideways look at Clark. He was watching Dave and his expression was carefully neutral. "Third rule; anything we discuss is kept in confidence unless there is an explicit agreement otherwise." In the corner of his eye Clark saw Jenny elbow Bob and shoot him a look. For some reason he felt a little better. Apparently he and Lois weren't the only couple here with issues. "Fourth rule," Dave continued, "we support dissent. We attack the issues, but not the person with whom we disagree." Dave looked around at the group. Jim and Brenda had been nodding pleasantly at each rule he had explained. Everyone else looked either a little chagrined or outright bored. He decided to let them off easy. "So as we go through today I would like everyone to keep those rules in mind as we speak with one another. Observe how you interact with your partner, especially if there's a conflict. Usually a conflict has very little to do with our opinions so much as our fears. We all have core needs, something about us that is inviolate, and we react strongly when we feel those needs are being threatened. Pay attention today and try to discover what your core needs are. If you have a disagreement, try to pay attention to what you're *really* arguing about and if there are alternatives that would meet both of your core needs." "Core needs?" Debbie asked. "Are you talking about the need to be loved and accepted or something more tangible?" "Love and acceptance are core needs for everyone. They count, yes, but I'm also talking about the things that define a marriage, like trust and mutual respect. I'm talking about the experiences that color our perceptions and make us who we are. Do you share chores or does your husband consider laundry something only a woman does?" George snorted out a laugh. "I'd be messing with my sex if I said that." All the men snickered but Jenny furrowed her brow. "Messing with your sex?" she repeated in bafflement. "Yeah," George said. "When I told Debbie that I didn't like her new dress I was messing with my sex. It was days before I got any again." Debbie frowned at him. "Feel free to share, okay? Besides, you're the one who said I looked good in red." "And you do," Geroge said smoothly. "Just not in that dress. It's too... I don't know, busy or something." "Excellent!" Dave beamed at them. "George has managed to address the issue without attacking Debbie." "And we've established that sex is a core need for George," Bob quipped. "Not necessarily," Dave said with a grin. "Sex as a physical act is a temporary need. The trust and intimacy that can be expressed through sex are core needs. If the goal is merely the physical act then I doubt a core need is being fulfilled. Which brings me to the last point I wanted you all to consider as we go through the day. Chances are if you wanted to start an argument with your partner, you'd know exactly which buttons to push to get the ball rolling, yes?" There were a few grins and nods. "Today I want you to think about what *your* hot buttons are. Are you even aware of them? What behavior in yourself or your partner causes you to react in a negative way? How do you respond when those buttons are pushed? How would you like to respond?" <><><> "Has anyone here been orienteering before?" Nobody's hand went up. Rich grinned and rubbed his hands in delight. He seemed in a much better mood this morning than he had yesterday. Lois wondered if the thin mountain air had suppressed the grumpy part of Rich's brain. Or maybe it was the powdered eggs. "Great! Okay, how many of you have used a map before?" Everyone raised their hand. "See, this is going to be easy!" Rich held up a map that was made up of squiggly lines on a background of green, white and blue. "Who here has worked with a topographical map? Or maybe you call it a contour map or a topo map? Anyone?" Clark, Jim and Debbie all raised their hands. "All right! Let me explain how they work, just for everyone else. Topo maps conventionally show topography, or land contours, by means of contour lines. Contour lines are these curves that connect contiguous points of the same altitude." He ran his finger along a line on the map to illustrate. "In other words, every point on this marked line is at 2500 meters elevation above sea level. That's about 8200 feet above sea level. This next line is 2510 meters elevation, and 2520, and so on. These maps usually show not only the contours, but also any significant streams or other bodies of water. This blue line is a river, this blue area is a lake. Still with me?" They all nodded. "Green areas are forest, white areas are generally rocky. The spacing of these contours is like a one-dimensional picture. The closer the contours are, the steeper the terrain. When you see lines merge into one another it's a sure bet you're looking at a cliff. Take this cliff behind us, for example. This is it on the map here, see this series of tightly packed lines? Notice the ridge over here where the lines are still close, but no longer touching? And then this area here where the lines are widely spaced is the meadow we're standing in." "Oh, I get it," Brenda said. "That's actually rather clever, isn't it?" "Now let me explain the basics of orienteering and what we'll be doing today. Orienteering is a sport in which either individuals or teams use a map and compass to work through a pre-designed course. On your maps you find five circles, these are your controls points. At each control point you'll find a small flag. Each team will have a color. Find and collect all your flags and return to the end point. A triangle marks the start and there's a double circle for the end point. Each team will have a whistle. If you become lost, start whistling. We'll be doing a staggered start in twenty minute intervals." Rich gave each team a map, a compass and a whistle. "Today we'll be using a short-course of only about six miles, if you don't become lost moving between control points. Jim and Brenda, you'll be the yellow team and we'll have you start first. George and Debbie will be the green team, they'll go second. Bob and Jenny, you're wearing red, you can be team red and go third. Clark and Lois, you'll be blue and the last team to depart." "We're starting last?" Lois frowned. "We're going off of successful completion of the course and the shortest time. Each team is individually timed. So, even if you arrived last, if your time is the best, you'll still win," Rich said reassuringly. "What do we win?" Lois asked. "No chores this evening." "Wow, is she competitive about everything?" Bob asked. "Pretty much," Clark admitted. He watched as Lois stalked back towards their tent and mentally prepared himself for the coming challenge. A six-mile hike with Lois was one thing. But a six-mile hike with Lois when she had something to prove? Heaven help them both. <><><> "Here's your chance, Clark. You can make up for yesterday." Her words were breathy. Rich had told her that, in competition, orienteering was done as a cross-country run and Lois had decided that they could run the course. After little more than a mile, though, it felt like her lungs were on fire. She told herself it was only the thinner air at a higher elevation and not because she was out of shape. Beside her Clark was maintaining the same even jog and she felt a surge of irritation towards him. It wasn't fair that he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. "Lois, I'm not going to cheat." His speaking voice was unaffected by their fast pace, a fact that only irritated her more. "Someday I'd really like you to explain the 'Rules According to Clark Kent' to me." "If I were competing against you, would you want me to cheat?" She didn't answer. She did, however, slow to a walk since they had reached a boulder field and she had no desire to break her ankle. Then again, if she broke her leg, maybe she'd get to go home early? "So why would it be okay if I cheated against everyone else?" Clark persisted. "Congratulations then, Clark," she huffed sarcastically. "Once again you're right and I'm wrong. And, if you must know, that's a hot button for me. You always think you're right and my opinion doesn't matter." "Are you attacking me or the issue?" She paused, leaning back against a large boulder and reaching for her canteen. "*You* are the issue." "No, the issue is that you feel like I don't respect your opinions. You know that I do. There's just one time, one instance, where I insisted that we do things my way." "Wrong! You make it sound like a little thing. It wasn't! It was a very big thing. Callously informing me that we're over without giving me a chance to say anything was wrong. You were wrong, Clark! Just admit it!" "Wrong about what? How is wanting to keep you safe wrong?" "It's wrong when you invent the lamest reason in the world to cover your fear of commitment! And to bolster your argument you said what if - and I'm quoting here, Clark - what if I was abducted by aliens and slipped and told them you were Superman? Then suddenly, in your delusional mind, bad guys would just pour out of the woodwork to torture me. So, gee, let's not get married. In fact, let's not even date. Oh, wait, I hear someone calling, bye now!" She felt a little twinge of triumph when she saw he was now breathing just as hard as she was as they glared at each other. "You're twisting my words." Hot button, he thought. That's a hot button for me. She deliberately misunderstands me. "No, I'm not! I'm a reporter, Clark. I routinely memorize what people say. Trust me, on this one I took every little word to heart." "Okay, I could have handled it better," he relented. "But I know I'm right on this one, Lois." She didn't answer him. Dave had mentioned knowing exactly which buttons to push to start an argument. Lois knew very well that ignoring Clark was a very hot button to push. <><><> Lois was laying face down when Clark came into the tent. Through sheer dint of her will, they had finished with the best overall time. He had thought she'd be happier about winning but, released from having to do chores, she had gone back to the tent and hadn't emerged. "You did good today," Clark said and hesitantly patted her ankle. "Don't patronize me," she grumbled. "I'm not. I wouldn't." "Hmph." She knew she should have felt better about winning, but the truth was she had used every last bit of her energy running the course. Now, lying here and thinking about the day, she wasn't certain if she had done it to prove something to herself or to Clark. "Your boots are muddy." "I don't care," she mumbled. Clark thought about pointing out that he did care, especially since she was lying on his sleeping bag. Instead he softly said, "Here," and lifted her foot to untie its laces and take her boot off. Lois let out a little sigh - she felt so much lighter with the boot gone. He picked up her other foot, loosening the laces and removing that boot as well. He began to gently knead the pad of her foot with his thumbs. "Mmm," Lois moaned. "I'll give you about twenty minutes to stop doing that." Clark smiled, trying to ignore the deeper tug that her husky words had on him. He concentrated instead on her foot. Lois relaxed into his sure touch. For the first time in weeks she felt the tension between them dissipating. She hadn't realized until just now how much she missed having him touch her. If only he'd apologize. She realized it wasn't just the physical exertion that was making her so tired. It was the effort required to stay angry with him. Just say you were wrong, Clark, she thought. Say you were wrong and let's talk about it. Outside the cow bell began to ring. "That's dinner," he told her, releasing her foot with one last little squeeze. Lois rolled onto her back and sighed. "I wonder what culinary delight awaits us now?" <><><> After a dinner of beef stew, which even Lois and Jenny ate ravenously, the group sat around the campfire comparing stories about their adventures that day. At a lull in the conversation, Brenda turned to Lois and said, "So you said last night that you two are investigative reporters?" "That's right," Lois confirmed with a nod. "Wow. Have you ever gone undercover for a story?" "Yes." "Together?" Brenda asked. "Yes," Lois said again. "I guess maybe you've already learned how to depend on each other in dangerous situations then." "I, uh..." Lois said, suddenly at a loss for words. "Lois has saved my life," Clark said. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. And not just me; she risked her life to save my parents a couple of months ago. She's the bravest person I know." Everyone's head turned to look at her. Lois flushed and stared at her feet. "You've saved me, too." Her eyes closed and she felt a little dizzy as she realized just how indebted she was to Clark. No wonder he had such an overweening sense of responsibility for her safety. And yet how did all of that translate into their relationship being hazardous to her health? "Is that part of the attraction?" George asked. "That she's willing to put herself on the line for you?" Clark smiled and shook his head. "No. I admire her courage but most of the time she drives me nuts with her single-minded recklessness." Lois frowned at her shoes. Single-minded recklessness? Did he honestly think that was a compliment? "Reckless," Lois repeated slowly, unable to get past that word. She looked directly at Clark, but couldn't really make out his expression in the half-light from the campfire. "You think I'm reckless?" "I'm in awe of your willingness to put everything on the line in pursuit of a story or the truth." "Flattery is not going to get you anywhere," she sniffed. "Ah, but a foot rub might," he teased in an effort to lighten the conversation. "It might," she allowed, standing up to go to the tent. "But only if I was feeling reckless." <><><> Lois was only half-asleep when she startled awake to an eerie silence. For a moment she laid perfectly still, trying to figure out what was wrong. It was so dark, so quiet. Then she realized that was the problem. It was too quiet. She couldn't hear Clark breathing. She reached over and her hand found only empty space. Clark wasn't there. What cry for help could he possibly have heard from way out here? This is what it would have been like, she thought, being married to Superman. She would wake up in the middle of the night to find him gone, probably on a nightly basis. Maybe even several times a night. She felt around for her flashlight but the first thing her hand found was his glasses. Where had he gone without his glasses? Then she berated herself for being silly - it wasn't like he actually needed them to see. Her hand closed over her flashlight and she turned it on, directing it around the tent to confirm that, indeed, all his stuff was still here. It was only Clark who was missing. Lois sat up and reached over to feel the inside of his sleeping bag. It was still warm - he hadn't been gone very long. She concentrated on listening, but there was no sound of footfalls or twigs cracking or anything to indicate that he was right outside the tent. Perplexed, she simply sat there and watched the dust motes dance in the flashlight's glare. She knew, just knew somehow, that he wasn't anywhere nearby. Lois put her hand over the light, watching her backlit fingers become red and pink. At the sudden rasp of the tent's zipper she swung the flashlight's beam, aiming it almost directly into his eyes. "Where have you been?" It came out much angrier than she actually felt. "Home," he said, squinting against the light and then holding up a pillow to block it. "You flew home to get a pillow?" Again, that sounded much harsher than she had meant for it to sound. He held it out to her. "Not for me, it's for you. Your place was locked, so I brought one of mine." Lois took the pillow from him. It was cold to the touch - from flying she realized. "You brought me your pillow?" she asked in confusion. Clark closed the tent's flap and crawled to the top of his sleeping bag to get in. "I just... I thought you said you wanted one this morning." "I did, uh, I do. I'm just... surprised, that's all." As he climbed into his sleeping bag Lois switched off her flashlight and lay down on the pillow. It felt cool against her cheek and it smelled just like him. Or, rather, it smelled like he normally did. Right now he had more of campfire aroma to him. She propped herself up on her elbow and impulsively scooted a little closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered and awkwardly patted his arm. She had meant to kiss his cheek but found she didn't quite dare. Suddenly flustered, Lois quickly moved away from him. "You're welcome," he whispered. "Good night, Lois." The soft way he said her name and the smell of his pillow combined to send a wave of longing through her. She snuggled deeper into the pillow, saddened by the realization that she couldn't kiss his cheek anymore. "Discover your core needs...," Dave had told them. She just needed Clark back. She needed him to apologize for being so obtuse. She needed to find a way to tell him that she was willing to forgive him for being so obtuse. She wanted things to be the way they were before his idiotic decision. In the end, the only words she could find were, "Good night, Clark. Thanks again." "Anytime," he whispered back. "If there's anything else you need, I can make another trip." For a moment she let herself make a list. Chocolate, a thick pad instead of the thin foam mat beneath her sleeping bag, her winter coat, and a pizza. She had this sudden mental image of Clark shuttling back and forth between here and Metropolis, bearing gifts like an out-of-season Santa Claus and she rolled her eyes at the idea. Those weren't the kinds of personal needs that Dave had been talking about. She should be thinking about her long-term core needs, not temporary indulgences. Did Clark honestly think he could buy her forgiveness with a pillow? That somehow that little gesture could make up for breaking her heart so ruthlessly? Resentment, sudden and thick, shot through her. She didn't just want an apology. She wanted him to feel bad. She wanted him to be as miserable as she was. That was why she had spent the past month ignoring him. And that had been relatively easy, since she only had to maintain her indifference during the day. Now, stuck with him full-time, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it. Maybe it was time to let a little of the hurt show through - time to truly show him what he had done. "It doesn't fix anything, you know, bringing me a pillow or giving me a foot massage. It doesn't fix it, Clark." He winced at the coldness of her tone. "I know." "You were the last person I ever believed would hurt me. I *trusted* you." His heart sank at her used of the past tense. "You don't think you can trust me again?" "With my life? Absolutely. I'll trust you with everything but my heart." "Lois, I'm sorry..." "So am I. It's not enough." The vehemence of her words stung. "What would be?" His question made her realize that she had no idea. There was no way to fix this, was there? Even if he apologized; it would always be there between them. "I don't know," she said sadly. "I honestly don't know." For a long time they both lay there, staring into the darkness and acutely aware of each other's every breath and movement. Lois fell asleep first but Clark lay awake long after her breathing had evened out. She didn't trust him anymore. That knowledge hurt even more than breaking up with her had. She didn't trust him - maybe she never would again. His thumb stroked over the small box he had brought back along with the pillow. Clark sat up and looked at the box in his hand for a moment. Soft blue light from the moon was dappled across the roof of the tent. What would it look like in this light? Unable to resist the temptation, he opened it and his breath caught in his throat as the ring inside sparkled faintly. He had meant to have her wear the ring to lend credence to the ruse of their engagement. But once he got back to the tent he had realized that he couldn't ask her to do it. That ring was a symbol of something that was meant to be permanent, not a temporary lie. It was all or nothing. He snapped the box shut and pulled a clean pair of socks from his backpack, wadding them up with the box inside. How could he explain to her the fear that had immobilized him when she had been hurt? Flying with her unconscious in his arms had shaken him to his soul. Nothing in his life had ever had been as frightening as that trip to the hospital. It had felt so potentially final. She could have died. It wasn't an acceptable loss. One little slip and the entire house of cards he had built would come crashing down - on her. He could face anything but losing her. Couldn't she understand that he loved her enough to let her go - to give her a chance for a real life? Clark shifted onto his elbow and watched her sleep. Her face was relaxed, making her look so young and vulnerable. His entire body ached with the need to protect her. Tomorrow, he silently vowed to her. Tomorrow he would find a way to explain his actions. She was right; he should have found a better way to explain that her safety - her life - were more important to him than anything else. He realized now that they might have salvaged their friendship much sooner and more easily if he had let her be part of that decision. Tomorrow he would find a way to fix it. He would show her that he only wanted the best for her. He would find a way for her to trust him again. He bent over and brushed a kiss across her forehead. "Tomorrow," he promised her in a whisper. <><><> George was sitting next to Lois the next morning at breakfast. "I'd like to ask you a question, but you should feel free to tell me to mind my own business." "Okay," she said cautiously. "You're from Metropolis, right? And you're a reporter. Have you ever met Superman?" It took all her willpower not to glance at Clark. "Yes," she said, giving George a smile. "I've met him." "Wait a minute," Jenny said slowly. "Are you *that* Lois Lane? From the Daily Planet? Are you the reporter who had the first interview with Superman?" "Yes," Lois said, feeling somehow embarrassed by the admission. "So do you both know him?" Jenny asked, looking back and forth between Clark and Lois. "Yes." This time it was Clark who answered. "Oooh! Really? What's he like?" Debbie asked. "Is he really that nice or is he only like that when there are cameras around?" "He's... nice." Lois shrugged. "I don't really see him outside of interviewing him, but he's always been very, uh, courteous." "I'm sorry," Jenny said, sounding a little perplexed. "I had the impression that you were friendly with him. I mean, wasn't there a picture of you kissing him in a magazine or something?" "Oh," Lois said softly. "That." For the first time it sank in for her that it was *Clark* she had kissed before the Nightfall asteroid. "That was just a kiss for luck," Clark said quickly. "It wasn't like the tabloids made it out to be." He was right about that, Lois thought. Neither she nor the tabloids had known she was kissing her best friend. And it hadn't just been for luck. It had been for good-bye, though she never would have admitted that to anyone. And now, with the world safe and whole, she was never going to get to kiss him again. Not even good-bye. When was the last time she had kissed him? She couldn't remember. She hadn't even paid attention, she realized. She had stupidly believed that she'd always have another chance, another kiss. "You're a lucky man. I doubt Debbie would have chosen me over Superman," George said. Lois shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Superman? Well, it wouldn't work, would it? He told me himself that he could never become involved with anyone. He's afraid people would use his friends to get to him." "What a lonely way to live," Brenda mused and both Jenny and Debbie nodded, their expressions turning thoughtful. "His choice," Lois said lightly. "Besides I have Clark," she added and smiled at the irony. "Well, of course," Debbie said, giving Clark an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to imply, you know..." Clark gave a distracted nod, his eyes fixed on Lois. "I know what you meant," he said softly. <><><> After breakfast Rich and Dave gathered together several lengths of rope and an equipment bag that made a muted clanking sound as it shifted. They led everyone on a trail through the trees behind the camp that wound back and forth as it climbed a ridge. After about twenty minutes of climbing they came out of the trees onto a wide ledge that looked down on their camp. Everyone paused for a rest, taking in the elevated view of their temporary home. Then Rich led them along the ledge until they came to a clearing with a large rock outcropping on its edge. He crossed the clearing and stopped in front of the outcropping, setting the equipment bag and rope on the ground beside him. "Today we're going to work on trust building," he told them. Beside him Clark heard Lois let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh. "Have any of you played the childhood game of 'I trust you'? You know, the one where someone stands behind you and you trust them to catch you when you fall backwards? We're not going to do that. Today we'll be learning the basics of rock climbing. You'll take turns belaying your partner. A word of caution here, people, when you belay you literally hold your partner's life in your hands, so do it right every time. Never lose your focus." For the next hour Dave and Rich showed them the climbing equipment and ropes, explaining how the gear worked and how to make the required knots. As Dave put on the climbing harness, Rich walked them through a quick recap of their instructions. "First, check that the climber is in their harness properly. That means both legs and their waist are tied in. Check your knots. Check the rope where it passes through the grigri. Make sure the climber side is going to the climber. The hand side is the only side that you should touch or pull on. Use your dominant hand to pull and your other hand to guide, but keep both your hands on the hand side of the rope. Now, I pull the slack from the rope and when Dave feels it become tight he says--" "On belay?" asked Dave. "Dave, on belay. Climb away." "Climbing!" Dave sang out and began to work his way up the rock. He climbed quickly and within a couple of minutes had almost reached halfway. As Dave climbed Rich continued to explain, "Be sure and use both hands to keep the rope taut. Don't make it tight, but especially don't let it become slack. When your climber is in position to repel back down you'll get in your descending position." His stance widened and he slowly lowered Dave back to the ground. "We can have two climbers at a time, so you can decide for yourselves who goes first, but everyone is going to have a chance." When it was their turn Clark volunteered to climb first. After he was in the harness, Lois pulled on the rope until it became taut. "On belay," Clark said, grinning at her over his shoulder. "Clark, on belay. Climb away." She found herself grinning back at him, mostly because it seemed beyond silly to actually have to worry about him falling. He didn't need a helmet. He didn't need the rope. And she was going to have the easiest job of belaying someone ever. "You'd better not think you can slack off," he said, still grinning. "I might fall just to see if you'd catch me." "Yeah? Good luck with that." She rolled her eyes at him. "Go on, then, Spiderman, climb that wall." <><><> "So there's not going to be a competition today to get out of chores tonight?" Lois asked after they had returned to camp. Rich grinned. "I hadn't planned one, no. We need water, why don't you race to the lake and back? First one back here with water doesn't have to do any other chores tonight." Lois picked up a bucket and took off at a run. She got to the lake shore at the same time as Clark and George. Debbie arrived just as Lois had filled her bucket and was beginning to lug it back. George, ahead of her, tripped, spilling all of his water. He swore colorfully as she passed him with a laugh. She arrived back at the fire just ahead of Clark. "Ha!" she said triumphantly to him. "I win! I beat you." George straggled in behind Clark, his bucket still empty. "She's insufferable," he told Clark. "Only sometimes," Clark said, giving her an affectionate smile. Feeling magnanimous, she went over to him and put her arms around his neck in a quick hug so that she could whisper in his ear, "The sad part is that only I know that I just kicked Superman's butt." When she stepped away Clark shook his head in mock irritation. Then he turned to George and said, "It's not pretty when she loses. That's why I let her win most of the time." "*Let* me win?" Lois repeated archly, putting her hands on her hips. "You *let* me win?" He sat down on the log in front of the fire and tilted his head back to smirk up at her. "What do you think?" he asked lightly. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out. "Clark, you're messing with your sex now. You're not going to get any tonight, buddy," George laughed. "He wasn't going to get any anyway," Lois clarified. Irked by the continued twinkle in Clark's eyes she impulsively picked up the bucket of water he had brought from the lake and dumped it over his head. For a shocked moment nobody moved. After a moment of surprise Clark let out a growl and stood up. Lois dropped the bucket with a clatter and took three quick steps back with a nervous laugh. "You could let me win again right now, couldn't you?" she said hopefully. Then she took another step back, holding one hand up to caution him when he began to advance towards her. "That wasn't nice," he said in a low voice. Lois turned to run but had only taken about four steps before he caught up to her and hoisted her over his shoulder. "Clark!" she squealed. "Please! I'm sorry! Put me down!" He didn't answer, just kept walking. Lois looked pleadingly at the others, but they were all smiling or laughing as he carried her further away. "Come on, Clark!" She was laughing, too, but beginning to get nervous when she realized that he was taking her towards the lake. Lois beat her fists on his back, laughing and wheedling at the same time. "No! Uncle! I give up! You win!" Clark didn't stop until he had reached the shore of the lake. He brought her off his shoulder and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to try and delay the inevitable. "Don't do it!" she laughed. "Please don't do it." She held her breath, waiting for the icy water. Clark set her down and took a step back, his hands pulling her arms from around his neck. "Maybe I should wait and get even with you later, when you're not expecting it." He squeezed her hands and then let them go. She shook her head in astonishment. "You know what your problem is, Clark? You're too nice. Mercy is for the weak." On the last word she pushed him backwards into the lake. Caught off guard he fell in and she turned and ran towards camp as if her life depended on it. She wedged herself between Rich and Bob and tried to look properly chagrined as Clark, now completely soaked, came back through camp. Without a word he went past the fire and into their tent to change. "You might want to sleep with one eye open tonight," Rich teased. A couple of minutes later Clark came out of their tent and put his wet clothes over a tree branch. He came back over by the fire and sat down next to Brenda. Lois watched him carefully, almost certain that she could see the corners of his mouth fighting a smile. What was it her mother always used to say? Something about revenge being a dish best served cold? Rich was wrong - she wouldn't be sleeping with one eye open tonight. She just wouldn't sleep. <><><> Lois tipped her head back to watch the stars as everyone else headed towards their tents. Everyone but Clark, who was sitting across the now-extinguished fire from her. After a few minutes of silence he stood up to go to their tent then stopped and turned around when he realized she hadn't moved. "Aren't you coming?" he asked. "I think I'm missing out on the charm of sleeping beneath the stars." "You think I'm going to get even with you, don't you?" "Are you?" She looked over at him, not quite able to read his expression in the moonlight. "Not tonight," he said softly. "When?" "Maybe never." "Never?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, come on." "I don't want to get even with you, Lois. I just want to be friends again. So you tell me when it's enough and I'm forgiven. Until then, I won't get even. I promise." Clark turned and went to their tent. Lois tipped her head back again, but the stars had become blurry to her. She knew he meant it - he wasn't going to get even. Her heart ached to be able to trust him again. She missed him. She missed his teasing. She missed hearing his laugh. She missed his friendship. Most of all she missed the quiet assurance of having him in her life. She had told him last night that she didn't know what would be "enough" to fix their friendship. Was this enough, then? His refusal to fight and his insistence that they could still be friends? Was it, at least, enough to start forward from? Lois knew he was right - he had let her win the race to the lake and back. And he had literally let her push him around this afternoon. Was that only because he didn't want to use his powers in front of everyone else? Or was he genuinely trying to make amends? Trust him, her heart told her. Just this once - just for tonight. Trust him and see what happens. <><><> After she crawled into her sleeping bag she turned to face him and softly asked, "Clark?" "Yes?" She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped that water on you. Or pushed you in the lake. That was mean." "It was pretty funny, actually." She smiled into the dark, reliving the shocked look on his face when he had hit the water. "It was. But I'm still sorry." "It's okay, Lois. I'm not angry." "You say that now, but what happens when those jeans are still wet tomorrow morning?" "Heat vision," he murmured. "Oh, right. I guess you can fix just about anything." "Not what matters most," he whispered. "I'd trade all my powers to fix what I broke." She had no answer for him. Even his powers couldn't fix what had been broken. She listened to his breathing and wondered how odd it was going to feel to sleep alone after she was home again. "Good night," he whispered. "Good night," she replied and turned away from him. "Thanks for not tossing me in the lake." "That doesn't mean I won't dream about it." She could hear the smile in his voice and her head lifted from the pillow slightly. "So you do dream about me sometimes?" "Good night, Lois," he said firmly, unwilling to be drawn into that conversation. After a few seconds of silence she giggled. "You tell me and I'll tell you." "Tell me what?" he asked. "What I dream about when I dream about you," she said as if the answer was obvious. He shook his head. "Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that one. I'll tell you something personal and you'll tell me that you dream about me borrowing your stapler or something innocuous." "Borrowing my stapler? Have you been reading my journal?" He didn't answer and she found that she was positively consumed with curiosity. Did he ever dream about her? And, if so, what did he dream about? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She decided to prod him a little more. "I wouldn't write down the kind of dreams I have about you," she teased. He still didn't answer. "Oh, come on, just one," she coaxed. "No way," he muttered. "The best one I ever had was before I even knew about Superman. It was after our first date. Only in my dream I didn't slam the door in your face." He still didn't speak, but his interest was definitely piqued. Now that she had started, she found she couldn't stop herself from telling him. "I asked you inside, even though it was really late. I wanted to feed you ice cream." He bit the inside of his lip to keep from asking. Ice cream? "So, there we were, me feeding you ice cream... is it weird that I don't remember how that got started? You know how you're doing stuff in a dream but you don't remember how you got there? I just remember feeding you a spoonful of ice cream and then I kissed you. It was so real I could taste the chocolate." Clark swallowed hard, his mind filling in the details of a chocolate ice cream kiss with Lois. "And then..." she continued in a husky whisper that made her clear her throat. "And then we were on my bed and you were feeding me ice cream and..." Her voice trailed off and her cheeks grew warm. "And?" he prompted. "And... that's all I'm going to tell you." She mentally cursed herself for sharing too much. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I just told you that." "Told me what?" He fought his disappointment. "All you said was that you once dreamed about feeding me ice cream. I don't think Freud would have a field day with that one." Lois covered her face with her hands, muffling her next words. "It's not Freud I'm worried about." Clark lay on his back, taking deep breaths as he argued with himself to just let the subject drop. Common sense lost and he softly said, "Sometimes I dream that I come home and you're there." "In your apartment?" she clarified. "Yes." "What am I wearing?" He blushed at the implication but answered her honestly. "Clothes. Nothing special, nothing overtly sexy." "What am I doing?" He sighed and suddenly wished that he had picked a different dream to tell her about. "Just... stuff." "Stuff? What kind of stuff?" "Sometimes you're sitting on the couch reading or you're asleep on my bed. Sometimes you're cooking." "Cooking? Do I fold laundry? Sweep the floor?" "Lois, you can't make dreams be politically correct. Sometimes I dream that you're cooking." He decided to leave out that in one unforgettable dream she had been in his shower when he came home. "Okay, so you come home to find me in some sort of domestic occupation. Then what?" "You smile at me. And you hold out your hand." She rolled her eyes. "Please tell me this is going to get better soon." "You don't know what your smile does for me. Trust me, it's very sexy." "I have a sexy smile?" She smiled and wondered if he could see her. "Yeah," he sighed. "You do." "And then what? I start polishing the furniture?" "Now there's a euphemism." She blushed furiously. "Oh." Torn between curiosity and embarrassment, she gave in to her baser instincts and rolled to face him. "How far do things go in this dream?" "Far enough," he muttered. He should never have said anything. He should have just let the subject drop. "Really? The worst part about my ice cream dream is that I always wake up just as things are getting really interesting." Clark grinned and asked. "At what point do things become 'interesting'?" She giggled. "I guess when the clothes start coming off." "Whose clothes?" "Um, both of us." She waited for a few seconds but he didn't offer any more information. "What about you?" she asked, feeling emboldened by the cover of darkness. "Do we get naked in your dream?" Clark closed his eyes for a moment, flashing to the dream where he found her in his shower. "Maybe," he allowed. "When was the last time you had that dream?" she asked softly. "Last week." "What was I doing when you came home?" "You were sitting on my window seat." Lois waited for him to elaborate. When he didn't she asked, "Did I hold out my hand and smile?" "Yes," he whispered. A few more seconds ticked by and she gave an exasperated sigh. "So then what happened?" His mind replayed the memory of how he had carried her to his bed. "We, uh, we kissed." "Is that all?" "No, things got interesting from there." "How interesting?" She propped herself up on her elbow but in the faint moonlight she couldn't see his face clearly. "Very," he sighed. "Good night, Lois." He rolled onto his side, facing away from her. "Do you think you'll dream about me tonight?" He sincerely hoped not. "No," he whispered. "Wait a minute!" She poked his back, just now realizing what he had admitted. "You dreamed about me last week?" "So?" Why had he been honest? He should never have told her that. "So you still dream about me, um, like that. Doesn't that tell you something?" "People don't have control over their dreams, Lois." "But aren't our dreams just our subconscious coming to the surface? You still want me - admit it." "It was never that I didn't want you. It was what might happen to you if we became involved." "That's such a load of bullsh..." "Good night, Lois," he said firmly. She laid back down and fell silent for a few minutes. Then she cleared her throat hesitantly. "I kind of dreamed about you last week. Actually, I've had this dream a lot lately. I'm on top of a tall building, looking over the edge, and I'm scared to death that I'm going to fall. And it's like I can hear your voice in my head and you promise me that you'll catch me, that I'll be okay." Clark grimaced, already afraid of where the dream was going to end. "And then this gust of wind comes up or something happens and suddenly I'm falling. I scream for you - sometimes it's Superman, but usually it's your name. I scream until I'm hoarse and I always wake up with a jolt just as I'm hitting the ground. You never catch me. You're not there and I don't know where you went or why." "Lois, it's just a dream. You know I would never let anyone hurt you." "Except you. You hurt me, Clark. It still hurts. I look at you and I see everything I have ever wanted but can never have." "I feel the same way," he said. "Then why are you keeping us apart? This situation is entirely your doing." "Lois." He had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing. "When you got hurt - when I had to fly you to the hospital - I've never been that scared in all my life. It was a combination of everything from those few days all coming together, all at once. I wasn't able to protect you from being abducted. And then I wasn't able to protect you when the transmitter exploded. Until that moment I thought I could always move fast enough. When I saw you lying there unconscious, I..." He swallowed hard at the memory. "I thought I had lost you. And if I lost you because of me, I couldn't live with that." "But you can live with breaking my heart?" He let out a sigh. "No," he said quietly. "I can't really live with that either." "What if you're wrong, Clark? What if no one ever tries to use me to get to you?" "And what if they do?" he countered. "Okay, so let's say that someone did use me to get to you. Will you feel better about your decision then? Will you say to yourself, well at least we weren't really involved? This could have been so much worse. Is that what you'll say? Because people already know that I'm friends with Superman. Jenny made that connection this morning. You can't put that genie back in the bottle." He was silent and she wondered if he was planning a new argument or if he was making a sincere effort to think about what she had said. "I'm sorry," he finally said softly. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I'm still hurting you. But is it worth the risk, Lois?" She sighed and turned away from him. "You're the one who thinks it's not worth the risk, Clark. Since it's my life at risk, I would think my opinion should matter." "Your opinion does matter," he said patiently. "Not enough, though. My opinion doesn't matter enough to change your mind." He shook his head at the futility of making her understand him. "So you would be with me, even if you knew that might lead to horrible consequences for you?" "No, I would be with you because I love you. No one knows what's going to happen or how it's going to end. If it came right down to it, and I knew for certain that someone would use me to get to you, I'd still pick you. I'd rather have those few days or weeks or however long we get that are real, and happy, than to have an entire lifetime of lonely safety without you." Clark closed his eyes. "I can't ask you to make that decision." "You can't make it for me either, Clark." He reminded himself of his promise not to argue with her anymore. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Me, too," she admitted and wrapped her arms around his pillow in a fierce hug. "Me, too." <><><> Clark was absolutely wrong. He had been wrong for nearly two hours now and Lois was enjoying every minute of it. The only downside was that she was never going to be able to say 'I told you so' since she had never said a word when he first led them in the wrong direction. Somehow it was enough just for her to know he was wrong. Nearly five miles worth of wrong by now. Five miles in the wrong direction - it was a small price to pay. Lois fought a grin as she doggedly followed him. It couldn't possibly be much further now before he was going to have to-- Clark stopped, looking up at the high walls of the narrow canyon they had hiked into. He had been fighting the need to recheck the map for a while now - not wanting to look hesitant in front of Lois. Now, it was becoming more and more apparent that they needed to check their position. He opened the map, holding it so that Lois could look at it with him. "I think..." He looked at their surroundings and then back at the map. "I think we took a wrong turn." Lois didn't say anything. She shrugged at him and then bent to retie the laces on her boot. Clark looked at the map, putting his finger on the box canyon he now realized they were actually in. It was right next to the canyon they were supposed to have gone through. He looked up, judging immediately that it was too steep for Lois to climb unaided. He toyed with the thought of just flying them over the ridge. If they didn't have to backtrack they might actually still win this competition. Except flying them would be cheating. After his insistence that they play above-board, he could hardly suggest it. "We need to turn around," he said glumly, "and go back the way we came." Lois straightened back up and nodded pleasantly. "If you say so." Clark narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed almost... gleeful. They had been the first team to leave that morning and he had attributed her high spirits to her confidence that they were sure to win this orienteering session. Now, miles off-track and destined for last place, she still seemed happy about it. "Why are you being so agreeable?" he asked suspiciously. Lois blinked at him. "You're seriously going to argue with me because I'm being nice?" Clark frowned at her. "*Why* are you being nice?" She gave him a wide grin. "I'm *always* nice to you." He shook his head. "No, not always." "Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. If you can turn the other cheek, I can be nice." "It's kind of creepy," he told her and started walking back the way they had come. "Creepy?" she asked as she came alongside him. "It feels wrong somehow," he tried to explain. It was wrong. She had to be up to something. "Maybe it's just your guilty conscience?" she suggested. "*My* guilty conscience? What do I have to feel guilty about?" Clark shook his head, beginning to sense exactly what she was implying. "Absolutely nothing," she said breezily. "You're always right. It must be amazing being you." "I get it, Lois. You're laying it on a little thick, don't you think?" "Laying what on a little thick?" she asked innocently. He stopped and took hold of her arm, turning her to face him. "How long have you known?" "Known what?" She looked up at him in manufactured bafflement. "That we were going in the wrong direction," he clarified. "How long have you known that?" "Oh." She bit her lip, trying to decide just how honest she should be. Eh, to hell with him. She'd tell him the truth. "I knew it as soon as you suggested this little 'short-cut'." "So why didn't you say anything?" He stared at her in astonishment. "Why should I?" she asked with a shrug. "You're the one who always knows which way is north. Why would I ever question your decisions?" He let out an exasperated sigh. "Is this about my not respecting your opinion?" She folded her arms and tipped her head back to look at him. "I don't know - is it?" "I can't believe you'd hike all this way just to prove me wrong," he muttered and then turned to continue walking. She caught up to him, but didn't look over at him as she lightly said, "Clark, we haven't even scratched the surface of what I'll do to prove you wrong." "We're going to lose," he needled, hoping to upset her. "Yep," she agreed happily. "I think we are." <><><> They were the last team to arrive back at camp. Lois sat down on the log by the fire with a weary sigh. She was tired, but it was the good kind of tired. It had been worth every extra step to illustrate his fallibility. Clark, who had become increasingly sullen during the long hike back to camp, walked past the fire to where Jim and George stood on the fringes of the meadow. Lois frowned at his retreating back. Was he really going to stay upset just because she had called him on being wrong? She shook her head in disgust. She was the only person in the world - with the possible exception of his parents - who knew that Superman was sometimes a petulant, stubborn know-it-all. "How are you doing?" Rich asked, taking a seat next to her. "I think I'm about one hike away from getting blisters," she answered. "Thicker socks," Rich suggested. "You need thicker socks. Or you could double up and use two thin pairs." Lois considered it for a few moments and then gave Rich a distracted nod. "Okay," she said. "I'll try that." She walked back to their tent, sitting just inside the unzipped flap and reached for her backpack. On impulse, she decided to borrow a pair of Clark's socks instead. His were thicker - maybe they would work better? She rummaged through his backpack before figuring out that he had all his socks stuffed way down at the bottom. One pair seemed heavier than the others and she pulled them free of the pack. Was there was something inside them? Curious to see what Clark would hide in his socks she unrolled them. A small black velvet box dropped into her lap. For several seconds she simply stared at it, not quite believing what she had just found. Her chest tightened and her throat ached as she finally picked the box up. Even though she knew what was inside she had to open it. The box opened with a soft 'snap' and she stared at the ring. Her heart began to hammer painfully inside her chest as she raced through a gamut of emotions before settling on confused. Why had he brought it? Was he planning to propose again? That couldn't be it - he was the one who was so emphatic that they couldn't be together. So why had he brought the ring? Lois glanced guiltily over her shoulder, half-expecting that Clark would have heard the box open. The tent's flap fluttered in the breeze and she saw that he was still talking to Jim and George. She looked back at the ring, taking the opportunity to finally get a good look at it. It was beautiful as it sparkled in the sunlight. For a moment she wanted to take it out of the box and try it on. She glanced outside again - he was still engrossed in conversation. She decided it wasn't worth the risk. Her numb fingers closed the box and carefully replaced it in his socks before wedging them as far down in his backpack as she could manage. For a few more seconds she sat and stared at his pack in confused wonderment. Why had he brought the ring? She left the tent and looked across the clearing to where Clark stood talking to the others. He must have sensed her gaze because he looked over. She gave him half a smile before turning away and moving quickly up the trail behind their tent. With each footstep her mind raced trying to solve the puzzle. Why had he brought the ring? Now that she was moving, she found she couldn't stop. She took the trail higher and higher until she was at the vantage spot high above the camp. Through the trees she could see the distant figures of everyone in camp. Clark was stacking cords of wood along with Jim. Jenny and Brenda were coming back from the lake with pots of water to boil. Her chore, Lois realized. She was supposed to have helped with the water and fire tonight. She heard a sound behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Dave emerge from the trees. "Oh, Lois, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was up here. Am I intruding on your personal time?" "No, it's fine. I'm leaving now. I'm supposed to be helping with the chores down there." Dave sat down next to her, letting out a long, contented sigh. "By the time you get back there won't be much left to do. Stay for a while, we'll tell them I was critiquing your woodcraft skills." "I don't have any woodcraft skills," she said ruefully. "Then let's talk about Clark." "Clark?" Her eyes found him, now kneeling and helping to start the fire. "What's the story there? If you're engaged, where's the ring?" Lois let out a nervous laugh. The ring? The ring was in Clark's backpack and there was no making any sense of that one. Why? Why? Why? That question was the only thing her dazed mind could focus on. "I turned him down," she admitted. "When Clark first asked me to marry him, I turned him down. It felt like everything was going so fast. I didn't say no, really, so much as I told him I needed time to think." "That sounds reasonable." "It hurt him, though. And then he got it into his head that..." For a moment her mind stuttered. She couldn't tell Dave the truth. She opted for the closest lie. "That our jobs were so risky that it would be better not to get involved. I was literally about to say 'yes' when he broke up with me. But there was no discussion, no chance to tell him he was being paranoid. We were over, just like that. He thinks we can still be friends and I..." She trailed off and took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. "You what?" "I can't be friends with him. Every time I see him it's like my heart breaks all over again. I hate that I still care about him. I can't be his friend. Not now, anyway." "So how did you two end up here?" "Our boss sent us. He doesn't know that we broke up. He thinks we're just going through a rough patch." Lois nudged a pebble with her toe until it pitched over the edge into the trees below them. "He brought the ring with him." "I'm sorry?" "Clark. He brought the ring. I found it by accident in his backpack. Why would he bring the ring when he's absolutely written off the possibility of being with me?" "Introducing you as his fiancee doesn't sound like he's written off the possibility, does it?" Lois hugged her knees to her chest. "Maybe he was just afraid someone would break into his apartment while he was gone and steal it?" "Lois, people can waste an entire lifetime nursing grudges and hurting each other. Do you love him?" She watched the far-away figure of Clark below her, seeing him tip his head back and laugh along with Jim. What were they laughing about? Her melancholy deepened - how long had it been since she had seen Clark laugh like that? She missed his laugh. She missed him. Did she love him? She didn't even need to ask - she knew that she did. Her life would be so much simpler if she could just stop loving him. Dave was watching her, his eyes sympathetic as he waited for her to answer. "Yes," she whispered and nodded. "Yes, I love him." "Then tell him that. Clark certainly appears to be trying to work towards an improved relationship with you, or am I mistaken in that impression? And he's brought the engagement ring. That would seem to indicate that he's working up his courage to ask again. Are the problems between you so immense that you could never work through them?" "I don't know." Lois shook her head. "I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what he wants from me. He told me that we could only be friends because he doesn't want me to get hurt. How does breaking my heart protect me?" "Have you ever considered what the core reason is behind Clark's need to protect you?" "He's a control freak?" Lois ventured. "Or perhaps Clark is projecting his fears onto you? It would seem that his greatest fear is losing you." "So why push me away?" "It may not make much sense to us, but I'll bet that Clark has convinced himself that giving you up is the best way to love you. If he didn't care about your relationship at all, he wouldn't be trying to make amends now." Lois looked away, back down towards camp in time to see Clark disappear into the trees near their tent. He had brought the ring - she just couldn't shake that fact. Why? Why had he done it? Had he planned to propose to her again? What other reason could there be? "How do I know that he won't break my heart again? How do I know that I can trust him?" she asked softly. Dave spread his hands and gave her a small smile. "That's a question only you can answer." "He didn't get even with me last night after I pushed him in the lake, you know. When I asked him why he said he just wanted me to trust him again." "It's a small thing, I grant you, but do you trust him to keep his word about that?" Lois fell silent and considered what Dave had said. Did she trust Clark not to get even with her? Yes. But there was a huge difference between that and trusting him with her heart again. "Yes," she finally whispered, "I can trust him that much." "Good," Dave said. "That's a good start." Lois stood up to leave and then paused. "Dave, is it true that you lose most of your body heat through the top of your head?" Dave nodded. "Yes." "What about zipping your sleeping bags together to keep warm?" "If you really want to stay warm you should strip naked first." She blushed deeply and turned to go. "Hey, Lois?" She looked over her shoulder. "Yes?" Dave winked at her. "Make sure he gives you the ring before you go stripping." <><><> All through dinner she was dying to ask him. There was no good way to bring up subject. Especially not in front of everyone else. As they were climbing into their sleeping bags - and were finally alone - she found her voice curiously gone. After the way she had given him an object lesson in being wrong there was simply no way to ask him. Not without sounding needy or desperate, anyway. "Lois?" Clark asked softly after several minutes of silence had gone by. "Are you still awake?" "Yes." Her heart began to pound just as painfully as when she had found the ring. "Did you really hike all that way just to prove me wrong?" "Yes," she admitted quietly. "There's a difference, you know, between being wrong about something on a map and being wrong about, well, other stuff." "I know," she answered. "But there's also a difference between being concerned and overreacting." He sighed softly but didn't answer. She lay there, debating with herself over whether to ask or not. She just *had* to know. "Clark? I was going to borrow a pair of your socks earlier..." His breath caught in his throat and suddenly he was afraid of her next words. "Okay," he said, fighting to keep the word casual-sounding. An uneasy silence lay between them as they both waited for the other to speak. When the silence began to feel heavy she quietly asked, "Why did you bring the ring?" Clark's mind swam. He should have taken it back to Metropolis as soon as he realized that he couldn't see her wearing it as a lie. "I just... it was a spur of the moment thing. The night I brought you the pillow, I brought it back with me. I was thinking that since we were supposed to be engaged maybe you ought to have a ring." For a moment she was almost relieved. Here was an explanation she hadn't considered. "So why didn't you give it to me to wear?" she asked. "I, well, I just couldn't," he temporized. How could explain his feelings to her? He couldn't? Couldn't what? Suddenly her throat ached. He didn't want to see her wearing that ring at all. Was that because it was too painful a memory or because he had changed his mind completely? "So you weren't going to propose to me again?" she managed to whisper. "No," he said softly. "I wasn't." Lois took in a breath, held it and then let it go. "Okay. Well... good. At least we have that cleared up." She prided herself on being able to say the words normally when it felt as though her heart had just been stomped on. As the minutes ticked by she found herself shaking, though she wasn't quite sure if it was from anger, hurt or embarrassment. Unable to lie there any longer, she sat up decisively and pulled on her boots. She grabbed a flashlight and left the tent. For a moment she stood in front of the tent, uncertain where she wanted to go. It didn't matter, she decided. It didn't matter as long as it wasn't here. She made her way over the uneven terrain to the lake. She sat down on the shore, staring blindly at the moon's reflection on the water. Then she covered her face with her hands and quit fighting the tears. She tried to cry as quietly as she could manage, hoping the entire time that he wasn't listening. When she ran out of tears she simply sat there, her forehead on her knees, and listened to the soft slap of water against the shore. She felt utterly drained; unable even to work up the energy to go back to the tent. The cold seemed to have settled inside her and she shivered, tightening her arms around her legs to keep warm. A long, shuddering sigh that ended in his name escaped from her. Could he hear her? Was he listening? She took another breath and whispered it again. "Clark?" The words she had been holding back since he had told her they couldn't be together now tumbled from her lips. "I miss you," she confessed, torn between hope and fear that he was listening. "I miss you so much. And I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of being angry with you. I'm tired of hiding from you. I'm tired of all of it. I'm just tired." She let out a choked sputter that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I'm even too tired to walk back to the tent." She closed her eyes and hugged her knees closer to her chest, shivering to keep warm. Her teeth were beginning to chatter as she continued her one-sided conversation with him. "I feel like I've been living a lie for the past month, pretending not to care about you. How did you manage to live a double life for so long? Weren't you tired? Didn't you just want to scream from frustration sometimes?" "All the time," he said softly as he sat down next to her. "I hated hiding from you. I always wanted to tell you the truth." Lois didn't startle at his sudden appearance. From the moment she had whispered his name she had been certain he would come to her. "I'm cold." She turned towards him, leaning gratefully against the warmth of his shoulder. His arm went around her and then he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms like a sleepy child. His hand smoothed over her back to warm her. He felt utterly lost now. The sound of her soft sobs had torn at his conscience. Until tonight he had not fully comprehended the damage he had done. Was there any way in the world to fix it? He knew she wanted him to admit he had been wrong - but that wasn't going to change anything, not really. "Thanks," she murmured into his neck. She closed her eyes and smiled at the rasp of his stubble against her forehead. He smelled like a campfire and she wondered if he would taste smoky. "You're so warm." "And you're a popsicle. Let's get you back to the tent." He rose with her in his arms and started walking back to their tent. "Okay," she said docilely. "Let's warm me up. What if we zipped the bags together? Would that be okay?" She buried her face in his neck, closing her eyes as she was lulled closer to sleep by the rock and sway of being in his arms as he walked. "Sure," he answered. He rested his chin on her shoulder, tilting his head so that his cheek was touching hers. He held her a little closer and moved at super-speed to get her back to the tent sooner. Outside the tent he lifted his chin and softly asked, "Lois?" "Hmmm?" "We're here. Can you stand for just a few seconds while I get the bags zipped together?" "Mmm, sure." He set her down and she swayed sleepily but remained standing. It only took a couple of seconds to put the bags together and then he knelt in the entrance to the tent and took her hand. "Come here." He helped guide her into the tent, pulling back one side of the bag so that she could lie down. He took her boots off and pulled the bag over her, zipping it up until only the top few inches of her head were visible. She sleepily murmured his name and something inside him, something he had fiercely fought to maintain for weeks, melted completely. He had felt the first few trickles of the coming meltdown as he had listened to her crying by the lake. Now, he realized, it was too late. He was a drowning man and she was all he had left. He slid in next to her and she snuggled closer to him, her hand fisting in his t-shirt as her leg slid between his, twining her body with his. "Are you warmer now?" he asked. "Mmmhmm." She sighed softly and then she whispered, "Clark?" "Yes?" "What if you're wrong? About us? Have you even considered that? What if you're wrong? Don't you miss me at all?" "I do miss you," he whispered into her hair. "I love you." He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had suddenly blocked his throat. "I never stopped. Lois, I never will. I love you." He stroked her hair, soothing both of them with the repetitive motion. "I just, god, I just can't lose you." His voice broke on the last word and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "I can't lose you, not like that. I'd rather you spent the rest of your life hating me than to see you hurt." "I tried," she murmured. "I really tried to hate you." "Lois." His voice had become thick with emotion. "What if I gave up being Superman? I just won't do it anymore. If there's no Superman, there's no reason for anyone to hurt you." Lois lifted her head, shocked into wakefulness at the idea. "No," she said slowly. "No, that's not fair to you. Or to me. Or to anyone you might save in the future. I can't do that, Clark. I can't be the reason you stop helping people. It would kill you. Eventually it would kill us. Superman isn't just a cape and tights. He's hope and a reason for people to believe that good is possible. I can't do it. I love you, Clark. But I also love Superman - the idea of him. I can't be the reason that Superman disappears." "Then what do we do?" he asked. "No more fighting," she said. "Let's just *be* for a couple of days and see what happens. If we're friends, if we're more than friends, if we just can't make it work - I'm tired of having to fake everything. Can't we just be ourselves? No pressure from work. No villains. No Superman running off to save someone. Just you and me." She let out a soft laugh. "You and me and thousands of acres of wilderness." "I can do that." She felt instantly lighter and she snuggled closer against him. "Let's just be like this. This is all I ever wanted - to have you hold me at the end of the day." "This is all I ever wanted, too, just to be able to hold you at the end of the day." "S'nice," she murmured and patted his shoulder. "Yes, it is." That was an understatement, he thought. This was perfect. He realized he was in so much trouble now. He was never going to be able to let her go. There had to be a way to make this work. He had meant it - he was willing to give up being Superman. He had only been Superman for a few years. It wasn't the first time he had considered giving up the superhero role. How many times had he quit, if only in his mind? "Clark?" "Yes?" "It was the rule of V's." "What?" "The rule of V's. Rich told me about the rule of V's on a contour map. Because of erosion the further a stream travels, the wider it becomes so the V will always point upstream. The stream you had us following didn't make a V. That's how I knew that we were heading into a dead end." "Are we heading into a dead end now?" She snuggled closer against him. "No." He smiled at the authoritative way she spoke the word. "How can you be so sure?" "Because..." She had to pause and clear her throat. "Because I trust in us." He tipped his head, letting his cheek rest against the top of her head. "Us," he repeated and closed his eyes. <><><> Clark couldn't decide whether he was dreaming or not. He would doze off, only to be brought back instantly to wakefulness by the twitch of her fingers against his chest or a slurred dreaming murmur from her lips. He was astonished each time to find that she was real. It was better than any fantasy of finding her in his apartment. And yet, it had to be a dream. It was simply too wonderful to be reality. 'Us,' she had told him. She trusted in 'us'. Trusted in 'us' enough to slumber in his arms as though she had spent every night of her life in them. Trusted in 'us' enough to believe that they really could go forward in the morning and find a way to be together. Until now it had seemed too complicated, too frightening, too fraught with danger to give in to his fantasies of a life with her. Somehow holding her had changed everything. His mind raced, weighing the odds and finding nothing but flaws in his attempt to protect her by keeping his distance. This was all he had ever wanted - simply to hold her. It would be worth giving up Superman to have this. It would be worth any price he had to pay. Wouldn't she be safer if he kept her close? Wouldn't he be better able to keep her protected if he was always nearby? She had said that she didn't care what happened in the future or what hypothetical fate might be waiting for her. Being with him was a risk she was willing to take. Could he take that risk? She had a point - if anything did happen it was going to be very cold comfort that he had never let her close. What if he was wrong - as she had quite literally gone out of her way to illustrate? What if he wasted both their lives in regret? What if this was all he was left with? The memory of having once held her while she slept? It wasn't enough. Gradually, as he drifted further and further in sleep, reality became tangled with his dreams until he no longer knew which was which. <><><> They were flying - floating, really - high above Metropolis. Lois was wrapped in his cape, her body pressed warmly against Clark's as they kissed soft and slow. Feeling dizzy, she nuzzled his neck to give herself a moment to catch her breath. Now her lips were against the warm skin of his throat and she could feel his pulse beating. "Clark," she whispered and felt the answering rumble of his moan against her mouth. She murmured his name again as a caress and his arms tightened around her. Lois opened her eyes and then blinked in confusion. Instead of a vast canopy of stars there was only the soft blue arch of the tent. It was early morning she realized. The only parts of the dream that were real were the feel of his skin against her lips and the fact that she was in his arms. She propped herself onto her elbow to watch him sleep. His face was relaxed in sleep and dark with stubble. His lips were parted slightly and she leaned closer. She never did get to kiss him one last time she realized. There had been no goodbye kiss when he broke up with her. He owed her that much, didn't he? She bit her lip and weighed her options. One little kiss. That wouldn't hurt anybody. She leaned closer, close enough now to feel the whisper of his breath against her mouth. One little kiss, that was all. She bent and gently kissed his bottom lip. She was lifting her head away when he moaned softly and his hand moved to the back of her head to hold her there. The big faker! He had been awake the whole time. She was going to give him a piece of her mind - as soon as she finished kissing him. Only she found that she couldn't stop. How had she managed to forget what kissing him was like? She kissed him slowly and he seemed content just to let her. She wondered at this new, more submissive, side of Clark. "Lois?" he whispered against her lips. "Hmm?" she replied, kissing him again. "Oh god," he moaned when she drew back to take a breath. "Am I dreaming?" "Yes," she teased him with a soft laugh, "it's all just a dream." At that his lethargy disappeared. His mouth turned hungrier and he rolled them, his body covering hers as his hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt. She giggled at his touch on her belly, then gasped when his hand moved decisively higher. "Clark!" She stiffened in surprise. "Oh, I..." she gasped. As quickly as he had started, his hand was gone. "I'm not dreaming," he said, horrified. "Oh god, I'm sorry, Lois. I didn't mean..." He scrambled out of the sleeping bag and she let out a frustrated sigh and pushed herself into a sitting position. "When you asked if it was a dream I thought that was a rhetorical question." Clark had turned his back to her and was running his hand nervously through his hair. "Is that what you dream about?" she asked, consumed with curiosity. Clark was frozen in embarrassment. "No, I, geez, Lois, I didn't..." He grabbed his backpack and began pulling out clothes at random. He wanted to run from the tent - no, make that fly from the tent - and just not come back. Across the meadow the bell began to clang and Rich started to sing his annoyingly cheerful litany of cliches. Clark unzipped the tent's flap and crawled out. "I, uh, I'll see you at breakfast." <><><> Lois emerged from the tent a few minutes later. She felt almost disoriented. Had that really happened? Was it embarrassment or horror that had driven Clark out of the tent? Or was it simply the sight of her? She had been shocked when she looked at herself in the small mirror she had brought. Her eyes were still puffy from her crying jag the night before and her hair was beyond any help. As she approached the fire, she saw that everyone was beginning to look a little worse for the wear. Four nights of sleeping on the ground seemed to be taking their toll on all of them. Jenny was hunched over a steaming mug of coffee. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Once again she and Bob were dressed in matching green sweatshirts. Lois took a seat next to Jenny and looked over at Clark. He was standing near the fire, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. She tried to catch his eye but he was resolutely watching the flames. "How did you sleep?" Jenny asked. Lois felt the blush creeping across her cheeks. How had she slept? Honestly she had never slept better. She couldn't decide if it was sheer exhaustion or the comfort of Clark's arms that had made the difference. "I slept okay," she answered. "It was a lot colder last night, wasn't it?" Jenny continued. Lois couldn't decide if Jenny was merely being conversational or not. She shrugged and mumbled, "I was warm enough." Jenny gave her a knowing smile. "I'm sure you were." Lois took a self-conscious swipe at her hair. Just how tousled did she look this morning? From the other side of the fire Brenda said wistfully. "I wish I could take a shower." "I would kill for a shower," Lois agreed with a sigh. "And something to eat that wasn't freeze dried and then reconstituted." "Amen to that," Debbie muttered as she sat down on the other side of Lois. "I'm not sure I was cut out to be a camper." "We used to go camping all the time," Brenda mused, "before the kids. We even went when Scott was a baby, but it was just too much hassle. I used to love it. Maybe I'm getting too old to rough it." "Age has nothing to do with it," Debbie said. "People just weren't meant to live like this." "Our ancestors lived far rougher than this," Rich retorted with a mocking grin. "We're already to day five. We're halfway there, ladies! Surely you don't want to quit now?" Debbie muttered, "Is quitting an option?" Brenda shot Lois an amused glance and they both bit their lips not to laugh when Rich shot them a disgusted look before he picked up a bucket and walked towards the lake. "He reminds me so much of George," Debbie told them. "He just makes everything a dare, you know? Everything's a challenge." She lowered her voice in an imitation of George. "C'mon, sweetie, it's only ten days. You can do ten days, can't you?" Clark glanced across the camp, but George had yet to emerge from his tent. Jenny nodded and took a sip of her coffee. "You know what's worse? When you insist that total strangers share your views on rule-breaking." "Oh, here we go," Bob said from across the campfire. Jenny glared at him and then turned to Lois. "Have you ever known anyone who thinks that his world view is the only thing saving us from anarchy?" "I think you're overstating it," Bob said and poked the fire, sending up a shower of sparks. "Rules exist for a reason. If people go around breaking them at will, the world would fall into anarchy." "There's a huge difference between a law and a suggestion, Bob," Jenny said pointedly. Clark cleared his throat and looked over at Dave's tent. Where was their counselor this morning? "Do you know what he does?" Jenny asked the group. Even though no one answered she continued talking. "You know those express checkout lines at the supermarket? Ten items or less? Bob will actually stand there and start counting when someone with more than ten items is in line in front of him." "I just want them to realize that they're breaking the rules," Bob put in. "It's rude!" Jenny said, standing up and spilling her coffee in the process. "It's just so rude, Bob! Your job is not to police how many cans of corn someone can buy!" Jenny turned and stalked away. Bob poked at the fire again and sighed. "It's just as rude to blatantly break the rules and expect people to indulge you." He tipped his head back and seemed to consider his options for a moment. "Excuse me," he told them. "I'd better go after her." George stepped out of the way to let Bob pass. He looked at the shell-shocked expressions around the campfire and asked, "Wow - what did I miss? Did something happen with the Bobsey Twins?" <><><> The spat between Bob and Jenny that morning started a chain reaction. By lunchtime nearly everyone was short-tempered. Lois found herself becoming irritated with Clark over things she knew were irrational. It wasn't his fault the rope had become tangled while he climbed. Truthfully, it was her fault. She was the one who had lost focus. When he had finally come back to the ground he had shot her an annoyed look. Was he angry because she was playing fast and loose with his special abilities? Or was he still mortified about this morning? After lunch - which no one really seemed to eat - Dave stood up and cleared his throat. "You know, we all spend so much energy thinking about the things we wish we could change about one another. What is it about your partner that you would never change? This afternoon I want you to remember what drew you to your partner. Take a walk together, find a neutral place and do an honest exploration of what you see in each other. Take some time and reconnect." Dave gave them all a beatific smile. "Reconnect?" Lois muttered as they walked away. "Did he just tell everyone to go have sex?" "What?" Clark laughed. "As an assignment? I know how competitive you are, but I hope you won't mind if we don't finish first." She stopped and tilted her head back to look at him. "Is that what you were dreaming about this morning?" "Lois, I, uh," he stammered and then decided to change the subject. "Come on. We need to stop at the tent first." "For what?" "Soap," he said, as if the answer was obvious. She frowned at him, certain that he was mocking her somehow. "Soap?" "Didn't you say this morning that you wanted a shower? I know where you could get one." Lois grabbed his arm in excitement. "Oh my gosh - you're going to fly me into town?" He grinned at her. "Nope. Something even better." <><><> They had been hiking for nearly twenty minutes and Lois was fighting the urge to ask him how much further they had to go. She briefly wondered if he was getting even with her for having let them wander aimlessly the day before. Well, she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of her asking, so she clutched the towel she was carrying tighter and thought about how amazing it would feel to be clean again. "Okay," Clark said and stopped in front of her. "It's not much further now. Just keep going up the trail and I'll meet you there." "Where are you going?" she asked suspiciously. "I need to grab something, really fast. Just stop when you get to the waterfall." "Waterfall?" she asked in disappointment and moved past him. "When I said 'shower' I meant with hot water." There was a sudden gust of wind and she turned around to find him gone. Lois kicked at one of the pebbles on the trail. It was so unfair that he could leave anytime he wanted. He'd already been back to Metropolis. True, he'd brought her back a pillow, but it was still unfair. She went back to trudging up the trail. After a couple of minutes she began to hear the falling water up ahead. She came out of the trees into a small sunlit grotto. The waterfall wasn't very large - maybe a foot wide with a drop of about seven feet into a shallow pool. There was absolutely no sign of Clark. Lois walked over and sat down on one of the boulders by the water's edge. She shaded her eyes and looked up, but she couldn't see him. Where had he gone? Surely he could have made it to their tent and back by now? A minute passed, then another, and she found herself being lulled into somnolence by the sunshine and the soothing sound of the water. Her feet felt hot in her boots so she took them off and slid off the rock to dip her toes in the cold water of the waterfall's pool. "I believe you ordered something not reconstituted?" Clark asked from behind her. Lois swiveled to find him holding out a pizza box. "One large with everything." He lifted the box lid enticingly. Her face split into a grin. "You brought me a pizza? From where?" "Antonelli's." "Oh my gosh!" she squealed and stood up, wincing when her bare feet found the sharp edge of a rock. "Just stay there," he cautioned. "I'll bring it to you." As they were eating she looked at the stubble on his face. Impulsively, she reached out and touched his cheek, smiling at the scratchiness beneath her curious fingers. "It's a good thing you're not flying around rescuing people this week. There'd be a bunch of stories about why Superman is growing a beard." "Yeah, I guess so." His entire body had come alive at her touch. "I kind of like it," she mused, drawing her thumb along his jaw, then across his lower lip, contrasting the softness of his lip with the scratchiness of his stubble. "It makes you look kind of... disreputable." "Disreputable?" Thank goodness she didn't know where his thoughts were. Disreputable didn't even begin to describe them. "Have you ever tried growing a beard?" Something in his eyes made her pulse race and she dropped her hand and looked away. He didn't just look disreputable, he looked downright dangerous. The memory of this morning suddenly made her touching him seem less than innocent. "Yes, when I was in college. I was trying to look older." "It didn't come in well?" she asked. "No, it did." "And did you look older?" "Not really. My friends just teased me." "Poor Clark," she laughed. "I guess you can't grow one now, not unless you want to make the similarities between you and Superman even more conspicuous." She clasped her hands together, fighting the urge to touch him again. "Yeah, I guess so," he murmured. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away. He missed her touch. He missed touching her. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and lifted the empty pizza box up. He lowered his glasses and zapped it, leaving only a few ashes that drifted lazily to the ground. "How about that shower?" he asked. Lois tilted her head in curiosity. "Did you bring hot water with you, too?" He took off his glasses and tucked them in the pocket of his flannel shirt. "It will be hot." He stood up and moved to hold one hand beneath the water. He looked up, concentrating on the water tumbling off the ledge. Soon the water had become warm. "Try that." Lois rose and passed her hand through the water. It was perfect. For a moment she stood, absolutely speechless, as she tried to decide what to do next. "I'm not going to get naked, if that's what you were hoping," she told him. "I hadn't even thought of that," he said, fighting the urge to glance over at her. His hand flexed, shaping out from memory the way she had fit in his palm. Lois bit her lip as she wavered. A shower. It was an honest-to-goodness shower. With hot water. He was too busy looking up to be able to watch her. She could just strip down to her underwear, couldn't she? That would be safe. In the end, the lure of warm water won out over modesty and she pulled off her shirt and shorts and stepped beneath the water. She let out a soft sigh and tipped her head back to let the water run over her face. It was perfect - except for the water in the pool, which was swirling cold and warm around her ankles. She stepped out of the pool for a moment to retrieve the soap and shampoo and then went beneath the water again. She lathered up her hair and then rinsed it with a long contented sigh. Each time she glanced at Clark he was still looking up, concentrating on the water pouring down on her. She flushed; it was somehow incredibly intimate to be bathed in water he had heated. "How long can you do that?" she asked as she ran the bar of soap along one arm. "As long as you need." She turned her back to him, blushing furiously at the thoughts that had started to race through her head. What else could he do as long as she needed? She knew he hadn't meant it in a dirty way, but her mind went there anyway. She hurried through the rest of her ablutions and stepped out of the water. "Okay, I'm done," she said softly. She ran her fingers through her hair and wished she had thought to bring a comb. He smiled at her, careful to keep his eyes fixed on her face. "Feel better?" "Much." She grinned at him and wished he would let his gaze drift. Come on, Clark, she thought. Just see what you're missing. Clark held his hand out and she furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding what he wanted. "The soap?" he prompted. "Oh, right." She handed it to him and their fingers brushed against each other's. Only his quick reflexes saved the soap from falling. His gaze dropped and then he looked away, obviously flustered. She glanced down and saw that her light-colored underwear had become translucent. She crossed her arms, blushing furiously. She hadn't quite meant for him to see [i]everything[/i] he was missing. "I, uh, I guess I'll get dried off now." She half-stumbled backwards towards the towel she had brought. "Do you want me to dry you off?" "No!" she blurted out, then softened it by adding, "I meant no, thank you. I'm fine. I, uh, I brought a towel, you know." Clark turned away and took his shirt off, then his pants. He stood under the waterfall in his underwear and soaped up. Lois wrapped the towel around her and then looked over at him. Her eyes widened, fascinated by the water sheeting over his back and the flex of his muscles. His dark-colored briefs clung to him, leaving even less to the imagination than the Suit. It was different, she reassured herself. Her watching him bathe was entirely different than if he had watched her. She was only looking at his back - and she had seen that before. Why hadn't he watched her? Why could he touch but not look? She faced away from him, toweling herself a little roughly as penance for her wandering mind. Even though her underwear wasn't entirely dry she pulled her clothes back on hurriedly. She turned back around in time to see Clark emerging from the waterfall. She wordlessly held out the towel to him, trying to keep her eyes from straying any lower than his shoulders. "Thank you,