"This is Reality."

Rating: R
Disclaimer: The WB and CW own everything, I own nothing.
Couples: Clois
Summary: A Lois & Clark fic, for angry Chlarkers everywhere. The original I wrote was  a lot dirtier. This is the edited version.

"This is Reality"

If he listened close, he could hear the ramblings of a television from seven blocks away.

It was near midnight, the majority of Smallville asleep for the next morning. Clark walked through the empty sidewalks, display windows and neon signs both dead and dark; never giving a second thought about how Main Street seemed so lonely without the familiar faces that he'd grown up around. Some of them had moved on, or away, or others had just passed completely. But Clark was still here, awake, one hand shoved in his pant pocket while the other swung his briefcase as kept in step.

But by the sound of the tv mumbling from upstairs, and the flicker of light from the window, he knew atleast she was awake. His feet travelled faster.

His stuffy dress shoes shuffled up the winding stair case that he had climbed so many times. Most of those at times where had Clark met up with a different girl in his life, but tonight, he was meeting Lois. She lived in the small apartment now, and alone, now that her cousin had moved on.

Clark loosened his tie and smiled. Lois was inside, scrambling from kitchen to dining room table. Not preparing dinner mind you, Lois didn't cook, but picking at a cold slice of pizza, hovering around a laptop that was amist other paperwork.

Clark saw this through the door, eyes appreciative when he discovered Lois already dressed in barely nothing.


Clark raised his hand to the door to knock, but thought twice. His hand lowered to the knob instead, and turned.

Lois was on her bluetooth, aruging over some menial bullshit with their editior. These wireless conversations were always moot to Clark, the lesser points of journalism like a staged rhetoric used to make it seem like real workwas being done.

Clark threw his briefcase on the table, his arms wrapping around Lois' small waist, loose fabric of one of Clark's stray shirts bunching around her shape.

He could hear the smile in her voice as his lips moved behind her ear, right behind the head set...

"Hey, sorry, but we'll have to continue this later--" Lois said, voice hardened in order to disguise her escalating breathlessness. "I'll call you back later tonight," Clark worked his lips down to the slope of her neck, eliciting a gasp. "Make that tomorrow."

She threw down her ear piece and spun around, a sulty smile on her lips.

"Hope I didn't interrupt something important." Clark said, sarcasm having invaded most of his comments lately.

Lois laughed, and kissed his ear, explaining something about work that didn't quite come across to Clark as important. It could turn into an argument, or a debate. And he wasn't in the mood to argue menial, journalistic crap at a time like this.

It was his back that hit the couch first, Lois tumbling after him.


"I trusted him, loved him. I never thought he would stab me in the back like this."



Clark could hear the tv, just barely, over Lois. Her hips were moving faster now, his belt undone and his zipper in the process. Clark frowned, his attention somewhat drawn to the bright screen. It was some sort of talk show. Crap, really.

"Lois,"he said between breaths, "Can we watch something else?"

He saw her brows draw down, her hips slowing a bit. "Are we even watching tv right now? Because I thought we were in the middle of doing something else." Her hips rubbed for emphasis.

Clark sighed, "We are. But I can't concentrate with some girl crying in the background."

Lois blinked, looking at the television.

There were several women on screen, one of them holding a microphone.



"Did you ever tell him that you loved him?"

The shot cut away from to a tear soaked girl, crumbling in a oversized chair.


"I thought he knew. I always knew. We didn't have to say it in words--"


"Okay," Lois sighed and reached for the remote, "Point taken." She pressed the volume until the pathetic sobbing died.

With a silent tv in the background, Clark made a slow work of unbuttoning his shirt from Lois' body, slowly peeling it away and thrown in the direction of the television, images flashing across the dim apartment.

The small space didn't feel the same as Clark remembered all those years before. It had become dark, bare, hardly any food inthe refridgerator or books on the shelves. Lois hardly spent time at home, mostly out in the city working, or partying/schmoozing with big name sleezes that would rat out a story for the smallest of favors.

Their lives were so busy, too busy. And everything else that came after their work lives got pushed to the uncomplicated bin. Things that were easier, simple. Familiar.

Making love to Lois made sense to Clark. It was easy, unfrustrating, and somewhat regrettably, familiar.

He spent years contemplating why he had been so drawn to this girl, a girl who had for so long been a nuisance to his existance.

Clark grew up thinking so, watching his mother and father love eachother for years, observing how easy their prolific relationship looked to a young son.

But as Clark grew older, the veil of youth grew thinner and thinner. Clark's image of love becoming more of a masquerade of imaginary characters that only existed in the purist of minds.

And Clark's innocence had long been left behind.


But there was this undertow of distrust with every movement, like either one of them would walk away at any moment. Lois and Clark were still teetering on that fine line, a line that was different for both of them. Lois with the insecurities that built from Clark's secrecy, and Clark with the pending promise to reveal everything about himself without the fear or rejection.

But these were smaller details, the menial points that always got lost in the essence of the moment. Between his short, ragged breathing, Clark could still hear the low whisper from the tv...



"We used to be the only people in eachother's lives. The only ones that mattered. But now, it's like he's a different person."


Clark was driven closer, his eyes wandering back to bright flashing light of the television screen.

The woman had stopped crying, her make up run and dry by then. Her head was turned down as if she was ashamed, or guilty.

Clark glanced down at Lois' moving head of hair, feeling a bit guilty too. He was letting her do all the work, and he was just sitting here. Watching tv.



"He pushed me away. First by ignoring me, never calling, and then acting like we were never even close. Then he was angry at me all the time. I never understood why."



Clark's brows drew down.

Lois must have gotten tired, her full head of hair flicking back. She caught her breath, her eyes drawn up at him. "What's the matter?"

Clark looked away. "Nothing."

She brushed her hair behind her ears and sat beside him.
Clark moved closer to her, his hands around her chest. "C'mon." He kissed her on her lips, the first of the night.

Lois' body became rigid, "Not until you tell me what's up."

Clark stopped, voice dangerous. "Nothing, I just had a bad day, okay?"

She leaned back to glare. "Oh, I get it. You have a bad day so you sneak over here for a booty call?"

Clark blinked. "What?" HIs hand dropped. "Lois, that isn't what this is."

"Oh really?" She grabbed his shirt and flung it over her shoulders, buttoning it. "Because even if it was, you could have atleast acted more interested."

She sprung for the kitchen.

Clark didn't follow her.

He did up his pants, hunching over his knees, head in his hands. The tv kept playing, the woman's voice louder in Clark's ears than before.



"But I can never be mad at him. Because, I love him. And I hope he's happier with her. I hope that he atleast loves her as much as I loved him."


Clark's fingers tightened in his hair.

Lois' cell phone rang.

"Hello?" her voice came from the kitchen, "Oh hi, Chloe. No, no I'm awake. Wide awake."

Clark turned around.

"You're where? The Maldives... wow, that sounds beautiful." Lois leaned against the kitchen counter, a soft smile seen even through the dark apartment.

Clark listened as Lois had a brief, but pleasant conversation with her younger cousin, Clark's old friend. He never did talk to her as often as he used to, maybe once a week. Mostly about work.

Clark strained his ear to listen to the sound of her voice through the receiver, bright and cherry like it used to be.

Lois flipped her phone closed after saying goodbye, and rejoined Clark on the couch, her mood somewhat risen.

"Well, that was Chloe."

Clark nodded, that part was pretty obvious. "What did she say?"

"Not much before Oliver dragged her away from the phone," Lois said, a sad tint to her voice, "You know he flew her there overnight to join him for some occupational retreat? Romantic, huh?"

Clark's lips thinned. Oliver wasn't the only guy that could fly a girl to some exotic location. Clark could take Lois right now in his arms and--

No, he couldn't. Clark still hadn't told Lois his secret, which meant he couldn't show her all of who he was. Clark was still just Clark to her. And yet, Clark seemed to still intrigue Lois enough for her to tolerate him. Even in his funkier moods like he was in tonight. This made him even more irrated with himself.

"So," the brunette said, colorful light from the screen splashing on her face, "You gonna tell me what happened or do you just want to forget about it?"

Clark stilled, conscious so heavy he felt his shoulders buckling. "No, let's just forget it Lois."

She sighed, "Fine. It's forgotten." She picked up the remote and raised the tv.

Clark relaxed, his arm stretched on the top of the couch, letting Lois crawl closer to his chest, resting her head there.

Maybe love wasn't meant to be easy, but the after moments, the smallest ones still could be.

Lois and Clark would easily spend the rest of the night watching tv. The two of them stared at the changing screen for a long while, the continuous drabble of the narrator filling their empty heads.

"What are we watching anyway?" Clark said once the show returned from commerical.

"I don't know," Lois yawned, "Some sort of talk show. Cat recommended it to me at work, so I dvr-ed them."

"Well it's depressing. Every woman on here is crying and looks terrible."

Lois looked at him, "This is reality, Clark."

He looked back.

"Not every slice of life is whipped cream and apple pie." she lifted a brow, "Some times life is messier, grittier. Hearts are broken, and let's face it. Everyone likes to watch a good heart ache."

Clark laughed, "This isn't reality, Lois. This is a series of women babbling on about how their lovers left them for someone else, and then sold their story rights to some corporate cable television network. It's scripted!"

Her brow lowered. "This show isn't scripted."

"Lois!" Clark said in clipped laughter, "We just watched this girl's lifestory, how this guy kept her on his line for years, only to ditch her at the end and make a grab for her cousin. I mean, what kind of a jerk would really do that?"

Lois stared at him, the fine crease of her eyes twitching.

Clark threw up his hands, clear to him now that he had gone over some invisible line.

"You know, Clark. You're lucky you still have your good looks." Lois said, decisively changing the channel as she stretched back out on his shoulder, "Otherwise, you're absolutely worthless."




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