Something Sweet

She was going to make Clark a cake if it killed her, but so far, the cake was winning the fight.

Lois Lane liked to cheer people up. She’d never admit to Clark Kent that he’d finally made it onto her secret list of people she’d go out of her way to cheer up when they were sad, but he was definitely in the top three of her list, third in line behind Chloe Sullivan, and her uncle Gabe. At the moment, Clark Kent was the one in need of some cheering, and she knew how much that boy liked sugar. So she’d chosen chocolate cake as the first weapon in her arsenal to combat his determination to sit in the loft and mope over Lana Lang.

Clark and Lana…now there was a ship whose sails managed to defy all logic to stay up, catching wind and sailing along no matter how choppy the seas of love got. What was so special about Lana, anyway? Couldn’t Clark see that Chloe was a better match for him? She wondered if perhaps there was a way of getting him to open his eyes and give her cousin a shot. God knew Chloe had been patient and waiting for him long enough.

The alarm on the oven rang, and Lois put on her oven mits with a look of determination on her face. She approached the oven like she’d approach an enemy in a street fight, ready to do battle. This time she was going to win. This time she remembered to put eggs into the mix. This time she’d have a bona fide cake instead of a huge, oily, chocolate cookie. Gingerly she lowered the oven and…

Pulled out the perfect cake.

Well, it looked perfect. It probably wouldn’t taste perfect. It probably wouldn’t actually be edible to anyone but Martians from outer space, but at least it was pretty. Once it cooled a little, Lois poked a few holes into it and then smoothed a little icing over the holes so that the heat from the cake would melt it, and the icing would seep down into it. She loved a cake that had icing down in it a little, and she bet Clark would too.

An hour and a half later, Lois was showered, dressed, and carrying a perfectly iced, pretty cake up the front porch of the Kent house. Martha, who was in visiting during a short summer break, met her at the door, and held it open to let Lois in.

“What a lovely cake,” Martha said, and she sounded genuine enough, which made Lois feel a lot happier than it probably should have. She loved it when Martha Kent praised her. That hadn’t happened nearly enough with her own mother. Not enough to suit Lois, at any rate.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kent. I made it for Clark.”

“You may want to take a slice to the barn,” Martha said. “That’s where he is.”

“Moping over Lana?” she blurted, and then winced. Why couldn’t she ever really control her tongue? “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Martha shook her head, smiling. “But you’re right. Come on, I’ll get come plates.”

Lois decided not to risk having to eat a slice of the cake herself, not until she knew for certain Clark could survive it, and headed for the loft with a slice and a glass of milk. There was Clark, sitting on the battered old couch, watching the blazing sunset from the open, upper level doors. He heard her come in, and cocked an eyebrow at the sweet in her hand.

“Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t know Mom was baking today.”

“She didn’t. I made it.”

The smile slid right off Clark’s face, though he tried valiantly to hide it. He set the cake aside. “I’ll gobble it up later.”

“Just give it a try; I think I outdid myself this time.”

He looked openly skeptical, but politely took a forkful of the cake and ate it. She felt herself begin to melt inside at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lois, this is really good!”

“Thanks.”

“You bought it, didn’t you?” he said, after another bite. “No way did you make this.”

The melty feeling was heating up—with anger. “I made it. I had to throw out three other batches before…never mind that. I made that cake, just for you.”

“Okay, I believe you. Have you tasted it?” he asked, and held up a forkful, to which she accepted. He was right. It was delicious.

But the fork was slick with icing that his lips had missed, and Lois felt an entirely different type of melty feeling inside.

Don’t be stupid, she thought. This is Smallville. I don’t care about his lips.

But Smallville had nice lips. Very nice. Full, and so red that at times he looked like he was wearing lipstick. She allowed herself to enjoy watching the fork slide from them as he finished off the cake, and then drank all the milk down. He was a massive man, built perfectly for farm work, and she wondered if one normal slice would be enough.

“What?” he asked, and to Lois’s horror she realized she was staring at him.

“Nothing. So, how’re you doing?”

He stood up and approached the open doors, crossing his big arms over his barrel chest. She loved barrel chests and big arms. She wondered what they’d feel like wrapped around her. Then she wondered why she was feeling that way at all. It was just Clark…

“Thinking about Lana?”

“She left, we agreed it was for the best,” Clark said tightly. “It’s over.”

“It’s been a couple of months, Smallville. Not even Chloe’s been able to pull you out of this funk. That’s really saying something. Maybe you should think of moving on.”

“Maybe you should mind your own damned business,” Clark said, his voice quiet and hard.

Lois didn’t have a thin skin, but somehow, Clark’s words had managed to cut right to the quick.

“Right,” she said, her voice unexpectedly hoarse. “Sorry for…”

She turned to leave, but heard Clark start after her.

“Lois, wait. I’m sorry.”

The hurt was quickly peppered with anger, and she tried unsuccessfully to wrest her arm from his grip.

“I’m sorry, really,” he said. “You were trying to help, and I was—”

“Being an asshole, as usual,” she snapped. “I was going to suggest that maybe you should try to work something out with Chloe. She’d be good for you, but you know what? You wouldn’t be at all good for her. You’re a…a…big jerk!”

Big jerk? Lois thought. That’s the best I can come up with?

Her comebacks were only that lame when she was too hurt and angry to think straight, which she was right now. Clark refused to release his grip, and she found out then exactly what it was like to be held in those big, strong arms of his. He pulled her close to his wide chest, and she felt so small and insignificant against him. It was like being hugged by a wall, or a grizzly bear, only without all the fur. Lois could feel the power that lurked behind the cotton tee-shirt. This man was all muscles, and hard as steel.

“I’m really, really sorry, Lois,” Clark insisted. “Forgive me?”

“You’re not the only one whose lost someone they loved recently. So, Lana left you, but I broke it off with Ollie, Grant died. I wasn’t an asshat toward you.”

“No. You handled it all with a lot of dignity and grace, which is more than I can say for me.”

He continued to hold her, and Lois relaxed against Clark. She could see what Chloe saw in him.

“Chloe moved on too,” he said. “I don’t know if she’s with anyone, but she won’t have me. I already asked.”

“She turned you down?” Lois said. “She didn’t tell me. Good for her.”

“Gee, thanks,” Clark said.

“Well, come on. You’ve hardly been fair to her all these years. But she’s gained a sense of self-respect, and I’m glad. I’m proud of her. I’ll have to talk—”

Lois didn’t get to finish the sentence. Clark had been looking hard at her, she’d noticed, but his gazes were always so intense, and she hadn’t expected him to kiss her, not like this. His tongue slid into her mouth, soft and warm-almost hot, actually, and tasting of chocolate and milk. His big hands roamed over her body, gently at first, but when she began to respond by digging her fingers into his hair, his touch became more insistent.

Lois pulled away from Clark, surprised by the intensity with which her body responded to him. She’d had lovers in the past who’d inspired passion in her, but it had never been this intense before. Just one kiss had left her aching and wet, and trembling with desire. She never would have guessed a farm boy from Smallville could ever drive her crazy like this. Granted, Clark Kent wasn’t the average farm boy. He always managed to be in the right place, at the right time. Every time.

“What’s wrong?” Clark said. His erection was hard, and long, and pressing into her stomach. She wanted to take him into her, right at that moment, but shook her head.

“We shouldn’t be doing this. If Chloe found out, it’d break her heart.”

“But Chloe’s made it clear—”

“It’s just…we’re not a good match.”

“How can you say that after a kiss like that?” Clark asked desperately. “No one’s ever made me feel that way before.”

The same was true of him, and Lois knew it, but she wasn’t ready to hop into another relationship. She’d tried and failed so many times in the past.

“Look, we’ve been friends for years now. If we’re going to change that, we should do it the right way. We should take our time, not just have sex on a whim. I don’t want fall for you, and then lose you because we rushed things. If I’m worth it, wait for it to be right. Wait for me to be ready.”

Clark nodded, and let her go. “Dinner and dancing, tomorrow night,” he said.

Lois smiled. “That’s better, Smallville.”

Lois pulled her purse over her shoulder and started for the stairs. She felt sorry for him, leaving him trying to cover an erection he would have to take care of himself. She wanted to satisfy him, more than she'd ever wanted to satisfy any other man, but time had taught her that the best things in life were worth the wait. This time she wouldn't rush, and no matter what her body urged her to do, Lois was going to move forward using her mind rather than her hormones.

“I’ll pick you up at your place, seven o’clock.”

“It’s a date."