Work Text:
At this point of her life, Lois Lane was used to falling.
What surprised her the most this time was the fact that she was falling from the top of the Daily Planet building (definitely not the way she had expected her Monday morning to go). As soon as she felt she had lost any sort of contact with the ground, she closed her eyes. But not because she feared her impending death.
No, again, falling wasn’t scary to her. It had stopped being scary a long time ago, right around the time she met a young, handsome, dorky-as-hell Kryptonian hero, who happened to pretend he was a dorky-as-hell, competent human journalist. And she had fallen in love with both of them, human first, then Kryptonian. Clark Kent, Superman; she loved him all the same, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Falling in love was an acceptable, very welcomed way of falling, and not this current long-ass dive into the busy streets of Metropolis that threatened to ruin her schedule.
Right now, falling was unexpected and, above all else, annoying. It was annoying to know she hadn’t been able to stop a low-tier villain like The Whip on her own; it was annoying to hear the screeching of the multitude of birds she almost crashed against during the first moments of her descent; and it was especially annoying to feel the wind violently slapping her hair across her face. That was the reason why she closed her eyes.
And, considering right now she wasn’t doing anything except falling, Lois supposed she could use this time to focus on her other current problems. You know, the ones that were a tad more difficult to solve than falling to her certain death.
First, how much time did she have to solve everything?
Well, taking into account the height of the building… 50 floors, 200 meters, not counting the enormous globe at the top... no, scratch that, exactly 197.5 meters, because Lois Lane, above all else, considered facts (and despite everyone saying the building was 200 meters, it wasn’t true), and her own weight (a perfectly healthy 55 kilograms, no matter what Cat Grant kept saying!), taking into account she always fell at the same velocity…
Well, she had a tiny bit more than 10 seconds before slamming herself against the ground. Which, again, wasn’t going to happen because she was going to be saved by her boyfriend, then chastise him for taking his sweet time to actually save her, and fly back to their apartment in a matter of seconds. Not having to worry about dying from a fall was another one of the many advantages of being Superman’s girlfriend.
She felt her whole body slice through and rip through something soft and silky. Ah, the many decorative flags Perry White had decided to install near the top of the building. She certainly hoped he wasn’t going to make her pay to replace them once all of this was over. They were installed on the 44th floor, which meant she still had plenty of time.
She frowned, her mind returning to just a few moments ago…
She had heard The Whip was on top of the building, making ridiculous demands for Superman to show up. She was mocking him for not charging the citizens money for constantly saving them, and being weirdly flirtatious about how strong he was. That made Lois’s blood boil. No one treated Superman like a piece of meat (no one except her, of course, under very specific circumstances that no one else had any right to know about). So, being Lois Lane, she had just rushed to the rooftop to demand an explanation, a public apology, and, of course, a Daily Planet exclusive.
What she didn’t expect, however, was that as soon as she got there and confronted the villain, that psychotic Russian’s only response was to yawn very loudly and say, “You are boring me, little girl.” And that was when she felt one of those high-tech whips wrap around her waist with far too much pressure (so much so that it actually hurt her), before dragging her to the edge of the building until she lost her balance and tumbled toward her doom.
A pathetic way to die, to be honest.
Then again, she had caught a glimpse of a familiar red and blue blur flying up from the bottom of the staircase right before she reached the last floor and opened the heavy metal rooftop door. She had distinctly heard a sweet and very concerned voice screaming “Lois!” right as she went over the ledge. So, her favorite person in the world was right behind her, which meant she was going to be saved any single moment now.
She smelled the air, suddenly sensing the aroma of Colombian coffee through the open windows that belonged to those pompous journalists in the International Section, and realized she had just passed the 38th floor.
No more distractions, it was time to get to work!
“Super secret project.” Those were the exact words her dad had told her when he said he had something very important to talk about. She didn’t have any idea what it could be, but as if freefalling toward the pavement didn’t make her paranoid enough, her brain couldn’t help but consider every possibility, each one scarier than the previous one.
Another weapon designed to destroy Superman? Some sort of Kryptonite cannon, perhaps? She and her dad would have to team up and disassemble it as soon as possible if that was the case. A contract with LuthorCorp to assemble more Superman Cyborgs? Clark had been distressed enough seeing just one; he certainly didn’t need more running around! Something related to that bizarre Superman clone they had found underground? It had been weeks since the last time they saw him, and he could be anywhere.
Suddenly, she stopped, remembering the exact words her dad had used: “Super secret family project.”
She could be such an idiot sometimes, and her dad would do anything except communicate what he actually wanted clearly. He had said family, so that meant he was just trying to find an excuse to spend some time with her. Oh, he was sweet, annoying, and adorable, all at the same time. She supposed they could go camping (and bring her boyfriend along, because Sam and Clark needed to bond more) this weekend. She smiled faintly as she thought of a little trip to the mountains with no crisis or emergency whatsoever.
Knowing them, there was bound to be a crisis, but they would deal with it at that time. If Lois started to consider everything that could go wrong on a trip like this, she would run out of time before hitting the pavement, something that, once more, wasn’t going to happen.
She frowned, her mouth gagging as she felt a giant blast of hot air hitting her entire body for just a fraction of a second. Those were most probably the enormous AC exhaust units of the 33rd floor.
Ok, next thing on the list.
Right. Those damned corrections Perry had asked for. She had spent almost an entire month working on an exposé piece about Amanda Waller, focusing not only on all the nasty tech and black-ops operations she had run but also her current whereabouts. But no, according to Perry, it wasn’t good enough; the text screamed ‘amateur hour’ and yadda yadda yadda.
She probably should extort Steve into doing the work for her. Then again, the last time she had done that, the idiot had added three entire paragraphs about the intricacies of the Soccer World Cup, which had absolutely nothing to do with her piece, and he had committed the sin of using the word soccer when no one outside of the US called it that. So, she immediately dismissed the idea.
Well, obviously her super-smart, super-fast boyfriend could help her. Clark and her loved to brainstorm together! Then again, they usually agreed to do revisions on the couch in the late afternoon, only to end up making out for hours on end with absolutely zero work getting done. It wasn’t Lois’s fault, of course; the couch was comfy and her boyfriend’s body was even comfier. Some temptations were simply impossible to resist!
Besides, Perry was famously known for demanding corrections just to look authoritative, and ninety percent of the time, he didn’t even double-check the final submissions. Everyone at the Planet knew that, Lois more than anyone! So, the strategy was clear: she was going to give him the exact same draft and lie about the edits. And in the remote case he noticed, she would tell him falling from the top of a damn building had been a traumatic experience, so that was it.
Her body was suddenly inundated by two distinct sensations: the piercing noise of mechanical keyboards and the sharp smell of old-timey ink, only to be immediately replaced by complete quiet. Ah, she had just passed the Planet’s Historical Archive and was currently going past the Legal Department.
Floor 28 or so. Around six or so seconds left before she definitely didn’t die against the asphalt. She was officially halfway down, and she still had one major crisis left to solve.
And this was easily the stupidest one.
Because Jimmy Olsen was, in essence, an idiot. He was stupid for thinking he could make someone like Kara (who still barely understood basic English idioms) jealous; he was stupid for dating other women when he had already admitted, multiple times, that he actually liked the Kryptonian; and he was especially stupid for thinking he could finally gather up the courage once and for all and ask her out while wearing…
His green suit? Really? His first choice was the legendary bad-luck suit? The one Lois knew was haunted, or cursed, or worse, because Jimmy had picked it up at some sketchy thrift store from hell six months ago, when he still had millions in his bank account. Since then, he had worn it on exactly three occasions. Once, he ended up falling down a maintenance hole. Another time, he almost got struck by a literal bolt of lightning. And that wasn't even mentioning the time when, while simply trying to take the damn thing off, he had somehow caused a major gas leak. How? Lois still had absolutely no idea to this day.
So no, the green suit was a hard, definitive no.
Now, the red bow tie? Seriously? No matter what Jimmy argued, and definitely no matter what Clark’s terrible opinion on the matter was, Jimmy looked completely ridiculous with that damned thing strapped to his neck. Bow ties were not, in any way, shape, or form, cool, as those two bumbling idiots kept saying over and over again.
And then there were those brown shoes. Jimmy actually had Flamebird money now, for Christ's sake, and he still chose the cheapest, silliest things to put on his feet.
She decided to drop Jimmy’s crisis entirely. Her brain was officially throwing in the towel. Jimmy Olsen had zero sense of fashion, and any attempt to help him would only result in him looking even more ridiculous. He was helpless, even beyond that, and Lois Lane decided she wasn’t going to waste any more precious nanoseconds of this eternal fall of hers trying to come up with alternatives to this soon-to-be fashion disaster.
She huffed in annoyance, her ears picking up a series of frantic, metallic clunking sounds coming from right inside the building. Ah, those were obviously the employees getting mad at the ever-failing vending machines of the 25th floor, which usually stopped working at the exact same time every Monday morning.
Wait.
The 25th floor?
She was falling much, much faster than she expected.
Dammit.
Lois Lane had made a mistake! A future Pulitzer Prize winner (no matter what the other-dimensional versions of her said), conqueror of the cosmos (along with a photographer, a talking gorilla, and a deranged brain), and lover of the strongest (and dorkiest) man in the history of the universe had made a stupid miscalculation!
She had spent barely four seconds thinking about all of her problems so far, and she was zooming past the lower half of the building right now. Her fall wouldn’t last ten seconds like she had first thought; it would last less than seven, and considering her current position, she would hit the ground in less than three.
Two, considering she had just wasted at least a second chastising herself for her stupid error. Typical Lois Lane.
Well, this was a mistake she wouldn’t admit to any other soul ever, so it didn’t actually matter. It was fine, because either way, Clark would save her any moment now.
And then she thought about something else. She was going to hit the ground in less than two seconds, and Superman wasn’t holding her.
Her mind went back to just a mere moment ago. When The Whip had dispatched her away like she was an annoying mosquito, Lois had caught a glimpse of a faint green glow emanating from the harness strapped to the villain’s back.
Weeks ago, after Clark had faced her for the very first time, he had mentioned the woman’s whips hurt him. A lot.
Because they were powered by Kryptonite.
Lois Lane had just been pushed off a building by a villain wielding Kryptonite, and she knew Clark was right behind her because she had literally seen and heard him.
Oh no.
Oh, no, no, no, no…
She heard the sounds of the street now. The bustling city of Metropolis never stopped, and she was going to crash right into the middle of it because Clark wasn’t there.
He had surely dived straight into danger after her, like he always did, because he was Clark and he loved her. He had told her way, way too many times how worried he got every single time he saw her putting herself in danger. In response, she would playfully punch his arm or gently caress his cheek, promising she was definitely going to be more careful next time.
Except she never was. Because she was always so sure that, no matter what, Clark would be there.
But he wasn’t here right now.
Superman was probably still at the top of the building. Weak, paralyzed, with agonizing pain flooding every single cell of his body. Knowing him as well as she did, he was probably still fighting anyway, desperately trying to stop a threat he couldn’t face. Or worse, he was falling right behind her at this very instant, his powers completely negated, still frantically trying to reach out and protect her.
Lois Lane and Clark Kent were going to die in less than a second, and it was all her fault. Lois wasn’t sure what hurt her more: the thought of dying, or the thought that, in the near-impossible event that Clark survived, he would have to go on without her.
Her face twisted into an expression of pure, suffocating guilt and regret, the very last thing she would ever do.
I’m sorry, Clark. I love you. It was the only thought left in her mind as the final millisecond ticked away.
…
And then, everything stopped.
With her eyes still closed, Lois considered a few desperate options. Maybe Kara had just saved her in the nick of time? Perhaps Hank Henshaw had a sudden change of heart and was trying to do actual heroics for once? Or maybe Metropolis simply had more super-powered people running around that she didn’t know about yet?
“Lois?”
That voice.
That unmistakable, sweet, caring voice that could only belong to one man. She snapped her eyes open, finally seeing the blinding, goofy smile of her one and only hero in his red and blue suit.
She clung to him as he lifted her up, hugging his waist as hard as she possibly could. She took a frantic second to visually scan every single inch of his body, no glowing green veins, no blood, no bruises of any kind.
“Clark!” she screamed.
She glanced down, suddenly realizing they were hovering just under twenty meters above the gridlocked city street, barely five floors up from hitting the ground. The proximity to the concrete made her scream his name again, louder and louder, a chaotic mix of raw relief, love, and passion tearing out of her chest over and over. Clark didn’t say a single word. He just looked at her, embracing her softly as they floated safely above the traffic.
Lois didn’t care that her ribs still throbbed from the fierce pressure of the Whip’s grasp. Superman was here.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
And that completely broke her. Because even after everything, she was still his number-one priority. She managed to nod a few times while she kept sobbing, and he didn’t say a word. He just held her, gently floating upward, moving much more slowly than the terrifying speed at which she had just fallen.
He was staring at her, and Lois suddenly realized she hadn’t actually answered his question.
“I am, now that you’re here,” she whispered, grinning when she saw the immediate way he blushed at her words.
But when she realized he was flying her right back toward the top of the Daily Planet building, her voice instantly became frantic. “Wait, Clark, no! The Whip is…”
Her voice died down when she noticed the rooftop was completely empty.
“In custody,” Clark explained, pointing down toward the street. “I wrapped her up in her own whips again. She won’t be going anywhere.”
“But… the Kryptonite…”
“Oh, don’t sweat it,” he replied, waving his hand in that silly, breezy way of his. “I ripped out her power core before she could even do anything, flew her down the street, and immobilized her around a lamppost. Nothing to worry about!”
Lois’s eye twitched. “And exactly how much time did it take you to do that?”
“Um… less than a second? I had to be fast, after all. You were still falling down!”
What is wrong with this man, Lois thought.
“And if it took you that little time to defeat The Whip, why, oh why did you let ME FALL FOR MORE THAN FIVE SECONDS, CLARK?” she shouted, getting angrier when she saw the way Clark simply laughed at her boiling rage.
“Because…” he said, floating upward ever so slightly and getting his face very, very close to hers, “I don’t know if you noticed, but you make the cutest faces when you fall!”
“So you like to watch me tumble to my demise? What is wrong with you, Clark Kent?” she teased him.
“Well, you do like to get into dangerous situations that usually end up with you tumbling to your demise. What is wrong with you, Lois Lane?”
She scoffed at that. This man, using her own words against her? Ugh, he could be so wonderfully infuriating!
“Also… in the last moments, I saw your face getting very, very sad all of a sudden,” he added, surprisingly serious. “I didn’t like that. So, that was when I decided to act. Can I know what you were thinking about?”
She wanted to tell him not to worry about it, or to resume their banter, or quickly change the topic. But they were alone, and Lois knew she didn’t have too many chances like this to be vulnerable in front of him. If there was ever a time when he deserved to know what was on her mind, it was now.
“I thought you were injured. Weakened by Kryptonite,” she muttered, hugging him again. She crossed a hand over his back and added, “I thought you weren’t going to be there to save me.”
“I will always be there for you, Lois,” he said, giving her a short kiss on the lips. “You were never in any real danger,” he confirmed, as his fingers slowly caressed her chin. “I promise.”
She buried her head in his chest. She wasn’t sure for how long, until he broke the silence once again.
“Are you still mad at me?”
“I can’t be mad at my goofy boyfriend for being goofy,” she said, and he laughed again when she kissed his cheek. “But next time, tell me when you are, you know, falling at terminal velocity alongside me.”
“But that defeats the purpose of seeing you make cute faces, Lois! Also, it seemed you were really concentrated on something during that fall. Actually, your overthinking face is my third favorite!”
This Kryptonian idiot, I swear… another part of Lois’s brain mused.
She raised an eyebrow at that. "You goof... Wait, what do you mean third? What are the other two?"
"Oh! That's easy," Clark said instantly, his face brightening with pure joy. "My second favorite is the face you make when you see a really sweet dessert you wanna eat. And my absolute favorite one is the way you always look at me."
Lois stared up at him. The adrenaline was entirely gone now, replaced by a sudden, ridiculous warmth. She couldn’t help herself; of course, all of this was caused by her boyfriend. She rolled her eyes, but the soft, big smile that appeared little by little completely ruined her tough reporter facade.
"You're impossible, you know that?" She muttered, lightly punching his shoulder.
Clark beamed, his eyes shining in the very same way Kara’s did whenever she saw a golden retriever. "Yup! That's the one!"
He held her again, and she decided that her schedule could very well go to hell right that instant.
“You know what’s on my mind right now?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.
When he gave her a small shake of his head for an answer, she replied, “You, me, your apartment’s couch, right now.”
“Oh, more manuscript revisions?” he asked, lifting her up and starting to slowly fly away.
“We both know we won’t do any revisions this afternoon, Smallville.”
And the echo of his laughter accompanied her all the way to his place…