After watching he and that damn redhead make their little twirl around the floor an hour ago, the last thing I wanted was to be in an enclosed space with him. And I never would have been if Bruce hadn’t played the gentleman by going to get me champagne; thank God he hadn’t seen the look I know had been on my face. And now the devil had come home, the man in front of me trying to talk sense to me that he had no business meddling in.
“Bruce Wayne’s trouble, Lois,” he was saying now, so earnest. You’ve heard of his reputation, I’m sure. I’m just trying to protect you.” The look on his face was that of a worried younger brother, so sure that his sister is in over her head, even if he was five years older than me. If that was even true. But the look in his eyes? Something not so brotherly lurked there, something I was both angry and elated to see. Something beyond concern. Plain, unvarnished, un-Superman-like jealousy. “He’s not in this for…”
Before he could go any further, I cut him off, “Rest assured, Clark, I know exactly what I’m doing. Hell, it’s the same thing I’ve been doing for three months.” I was rewarded by the wounded look on his face that he didn’t hide fast enough. The question was, was that reaction simply the act, Kal-El acting out Clark’s reaction in this elaborate farce, or had I actually hurt him? I decided to go for it, set the guns blazing. Nailing him with my gaze, I stalked forward until we were only height-distance from each other as I continued, “And what, exactly, do you think I’m in it for, Clark? We all know I’m no lily-white virgin. What’s to say I didn’t go rushing right into his arms when my last little affair went south? That I didn’t lose the man who didn’t want me in one that was more than willing to help me forget?”