All or Nothing

by Kaylle kaylle@bigfoot.com

Rated PG

Submitted December 2002

Author's Note: What happens when you're without a real  computer or TV for several days straight, with a song you  don't even particularly like stuck in your head? Well, you  do *something* to keep your sanity <g>. A big thank you to  Kathy and Carol for beta-reading on very short notice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know I'd fight for you.  But how can I fight someone who isn't even there?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She smiled faintly as he left to pursue his crisis. Her  fingers rose absently to her lips, remembering the touch of  his kiss there, and she closed her eyes.

Would it always be like this? A kiss goodbye as he went on  his way, his mind on greater things? Not for the first  time, she felt a twinge of doubt.

"You chose this," she reminded herself aloud, a little  louder than she'd intended. "You chose it," she repeated,  softer now. She'd known what she was accepting, the good  and the bad. Was it still what she wanted?

She frowned a little, following his footsteps out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Clark made a face, crumpled the sheet of paper, and tossed  it away How did Lois do it? He'd been attempting to write--  or at least *start*-- his novel for weeks now. Lois seemed  to have no difficulty writing, although he'd yet to see the  product of her labor. But every time he sat down to work,  all he could think about was her.

<And now you're doing it again,> he thought ruefully.

He sighed, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his eyes.  He missed her. As angry and hurt and rejected as he felt,  he missed her so much. He hadn't realized how much he'd  grown to need her over the last year. But she'd made her  choices, and so had he.

His gaze fell on the typewriter before him, on loan from  Perry 'for inspiration.' His writing wasn't really any  further along than it had been when he started. He was  simply chipping away at his savings by staying in his  apartment unemployed. Without her, without the Planet,  there was nothing left of the life he'd struggled to build  for himself. Nothing to hold him in Metropolis any longer.  Perhaps it was time to move on, as he always had before.

Something in him recoiled at the thought, and though he  didn't like to admit it, Clark knew it was only Lois that  kept him here. Some irrational hope that she'd walk through  that door, let him hold her, assure him that she'd made a  terrible mistake. That it was him she wanted. Not Luthor,  and not Superman.

Superman. He laughed bitterly. If she turned away from  Luthor, it would only be to pine for her hero. Clark  himself was a distant third in her affections, second even  to his own creation. Some nights, remembering, he thought  he hated her.

But it didn't last. It couldn't. Not when his heart was  filled with her, when her face and the scent of her perfume  filtered through even into his dreams. When all he'd ever  wanted was to see her look at Clark the way she looked at  Superman.

He sighed again, tiredly and sadly. Threading another sheet  of paper into the typewriter, he tried to begin again.

There came a knock on the door.

Clark turned and scanned the other side. Lois stood on the  front step, her hands twisting nervously in front of her.  She looked uneasy, and despite his own discomfort he moved  inexorably to the door to let her in.

"Lois," he said simply as she entered, not sure what  greeting was appropriate. They hadn't seen each other since  Perry's retirement party, and their conversation there had  been unpleasant, to say the least.

"Clark," she replied, apparently equally hesitant. "I-- I  was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by," she  explained, her words rushed. "I thought maybe we could  talk."

"Come on in," he agreed, gesturing her down the stairs.  "I'll make some coffee."

Lois nodded absently and took a seat on the edge of the  couch. She was quiet as he moved through the kitchen.  "Having problems with the novel?" she asked at last.

He glanced back, following her gaze to the haphazard mess  of paper balls scattered on the desk. "A little," he  admitted, embarrassed. "I guess I'm having trouble  focusing."

Lois nodded. "A lot has happened... It'll take us all a  while to settle down to a routine again."

He frowned, wondering what sort of routine he could find  without her in it. His gaze fell on the crumpled pile of  discarded pages, and he shook his head. "How's life at  LNN?" he asked, more out of a sense of etiquette than a  desire to hear about her life at Luthor's network.

She didn't seem to want to talk about it either. "Good,  good," she replied, falling silent once more.

Clark returned from the kitchen with two mugs and seated  himself across from her. Careful to keep any inflection  from his voice, he asked, "And the wedding plans are going  well?" She hesitated, and he flinched from the rush of  emotions that went through him, hope and fear and  bitterness all at once.

"Clark," she said slowly, "I've really missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

"And I guess I missed being able to talk to you about,  well, anything." She smiled a little. "You were always  there for me, even when I didn't want you to be."

He watched her in silence, unsure of where she was going.

"And I know how you feel about my marrying Lex. I didn't  come here for a lecture. I just... I guess I wanted someone  to talk to, to know that you're listening and you care."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he'd always cared,  but he found he couldn't say it. Not now. He nodded. She  studied his face for a moment, as if expecting a stronger  response; at last she looked away. "I guess it's not fair  of me," she conceded softly. "I know I... I know how things  are. Between us. How you-- well, you know what you said,"  she finished miserably. "And I'm sorry..."

He rose, turning angrily away. "Sorry for what, Lois? Sorry  you don't love me? Sorry Superman doesn't love you? Sorry  your fairy-tale wedding isn't turning out how you planned?"

She flinched at the words, but she didn't strike back or  stalk out as he'd expected. "Clark," she said softly,  brokenly, and he turned back. She was still seated at the  edge of the couch, eyes wide and shining. "Clark, I--  you're my best friend. Please."

With a sigh he sat back down. "I'm sorry," he said  resignedly. "That was-- cruel of me."

She looked down, hands fidgeting in her lap. After a  moment, she said quietly, "I guess you talked to Superman."

He frowned; he didn't want her thinking Clark and Superman  talked about her behind her back. "Not really," he  answered. "You *did* ask me to find him for you. I guess I  knew what you wanted."

She shook her head. "I should never have asked you to do  that. Not after..."

"No," he agreed, but there was no malice or accusation in  his voice. Only a dull sense of pain.

"Anyway," she said, wiping her eyes, "you were right. He  doesn't love me. I'm not even sure he likes me anymore."

Clark recalled their meeting, the brusque front he'd worn  to hide the hurt. The cruel things he'd said, unable to  think of anything beyond the pain. "I'm sure that's not  true," he said.

"He said I didn't know him well enough," she continued, her  voice quavering. "But I do! I've known him for almost a  year now. And I-- I've been his friend..." She dropped her  eyes. "I just-- I love him, Clark, I really do. And he  doesn't want me," she finished softly.

"Lois," he protested, unable to confirm or deny what she'd  said. He moved to sit beside her, pulled her close and  wrapped his arms about her shoulders. She shuddered against  him as she cried, and he tried not to think about the way  she felt in his embrace, the soft, warm curve of her body.  Tried not to remember that she was crying out her broken  heart-- a heart he himself had broken. And that she had  broken his.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, pulling away, wiping  awkwardly at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Clark, I know you don't  want to hear this. It wasn't fair of me to come to you."  She rose to her feet, moving quickly to the door. "I should  go."

"Did you love him?"

He'd surprised even himself. When Lois turned back, he  hadn't moved, wasn't even looking at her, He was staring  resignedly, tiredly at her empty place on the sofa. "S- Superman?" she stammered.

"No," he replied. "Luthor."

Unbidden, her fingers rose again to her lips. "I'm marrying  him."

He shook his head. "That's not what I asked."

"I-- it's none of your business," she said, but the attempt  was half-hearted.

Clark looked up at her then and spread his hands wide.  "Hey, Lois, you wanted to talk. I didn't ask you to come."

She closed her eyes. He was right. He deserved the truth,  if nothing else. "I-- No," she reluctantly admitted at  last. "I don't think I do. Not really."

"But you're marrying him." His voice was flat and empty, no  insinuation in his tone, no scorn or anger or pity.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I am."

"Why?"

She hesitated, as if putting her feelings into words at  last meant she couldn't deny them any longer. "Superman  didn't want me," she whispered. "Lex did."

Clark sighed, his eyes closed. "Did I mean so little to  you, then?"

Lois winced. She couldn't say the implication hadn't  occurred to her. "It's not that, Clark," she started, but  for the life of her she couldn't explain herself. He waved  a hand to stop her.

"I can't do this anymore, Lois. I can't go halfway with  you. You know what? You made your choice. I mean, really,  how can I compete with either of them? A superhero and the  third-richest man in the world, even if the one's a  cardboard cutout and the other's a criminal?" He gave a  short laugh. "I can't even believe I tried." He got to his  feet. "And, really, if that's all you wanted, Lois, I don't  know why I bothered."

She paled. "Clark--" she started again, but he cut her off.

"You should go," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Go  back to him." He ushered her quickly back up the stairs and  opened the door. "I don't think we have anything more to  say," he finished, pressing her gently but firmly into the  hallway. "Goodbye, Lois."

"Clark," she protested, but the door swung closed and he  was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He watched her as Perry led her from the church. She was  crying a little, half-dazed, and Perry put his arm around  her. She was obviously in shock; her wedding had been  ruined. She was mumbling something through her tears, and  Perry was trying to reassure her. Weakened as he was, he  couldn't hear what they were saying, but the distraught  pain in her expression was visible even at this distance.

She hadn't changed her mind, then.

She had admitted she did not love the man. But the pain and  regret in her eyes confirmed to him that she'd still wanted  to marry Lex Luthor. Perhaps the promise of the life he  could give her had been substitute enough for love.

Above the sounds of reporters' questions and photographers'  cameras, he heard her call his name quite clearly. "Where's  Clark?" She needed him. She needed her best friend. In the  past, he'd have gathered her close to him, wrapped his arms  tight around her and let her sob out her pain against his  shoulder. Now, he couldn't go to her. He couldn't do it.

She scanned the crowd for him, desperate, but he was well  hidden. Perry was saying something else, and she raised a  hand to her face. His arm tightened around her shoulder,  pulling her into an awkward embrace.

She wasn't injured; Luthor hadn't hurt her or taken her  hostage in all the chaos. Physically, she would be okay.  Clark knew that now. For him, that was enough. It had to  be.

He turned away from her, and disappeared into the crowd.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The telephone shrilled once more and reluctantly he reached  for it. "Hello?"

There was a moment of silence, and then she said, "I was  frightened of you."

Clark closed his eyes. He'd known it was her even before he  answered. He didn't want to talk to her. "What?"

"I was frightened," she said again, softly.

Tiredly, he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, Lois, I  don't really want to play tonight."

"Then talk to me, Clark," she replied insistently.  "Please."

"There's nothing to say."

"There's everything to say! What are you so afraid of,  Clark, that you can't even talk to me?"

"Fine," he said at last, too weary of arguing. "You want to  talk, I'll be here waiting."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she agreed, and hung up  the phone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She'd called him for days. Most of the time he hadn't  answered, and when he did it was only to tell her, politely  but firmly, that he didn't want to talk about it. As time  went by the anger had softened from his voice, leaving only  resignation and sorrow. But still he'd refused her.

She'd had a lot of time to think these last five days since  the failed wedding. Time to evaluate and reevaluate the  things she'd said and done. And regardless of everything  else around them, Clark was her best friend, and she'd hurt  him. She needed to understand why she'd done it.

Now, she thought she knew.

The truth wasn't easy, wasn't what she wanted. But there it  was, and now that she understood it, she couldn't deny it  any longer. Climbing the stairs to Clark's apartment, she  drew a deep breath. She knocked once and after a moment he  opened the door.

"Hi," she said, suddenly shy.

"Hi," he replied. His eyes seemed darker than before,  shadowed, and he didn't smile as she moved past him in the  doorway.

"You, ah, asked if you meant so little to me," she said,  unwilling to waste time on pleasantries.

He did not speak or nod, but his eyes were on her as he  followed her down into the living room.

"And I should have told you then, but I didn't really  understand until now," she continued, pacing slowly through  the room. "But the truth was, you meant more than either  one of them. And that made you the easiest to lose."

Clark made a face. "That doesn't make any sense."

She smiled a little. "I know it doesn't. But it's the  truth."

"Lois," he warned.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll try to explain.

"I loved Superman," she started tentatively, knowing he  didn't want to hear it again but hoping he'd let her  finish. "I really cared for him. But he was right, Clark, I  didn't really know him at all. I don't know what he likes,  or where he lives, or what he does when he's not at an  emergency. I don't even know his name," she finished  softly. "Superman. I named him that, because I didn't know.

"What I did know was that he was honest and just and  caring," she continued, still pacing slowly through the  room. He couldn't hurt me the way other people-- other  loves-- hurt me in the past. It wasn't in his nature. And I  was never close enough to him to let him hurt me, even if  he would have. So he was doubly safe."

Clark was watching her carefully, but he seemed to have  accepted her explanation so far. Drawing a breath, she  pressed on. "Now, Lex is a different story. I admit I  misjudged him. But besides that, I didn't care for him. Not  in any way that mattered. Maybe you were right, maybe I am  shallow. Or maybe I just wanted stability now that the  Planet is gone, and Lex seemed the most likely man to offer  it. But in his own way, Lex was safe, too. He had no power  over me. He couldn't hurt me if I didn't love him."

"You'd marry him for that? Because he couldn't hurt you?"  Clark asked, surprised and dismayed that she could have  such a dark, bleak outlook on love.

"No," she said softly, looking away. "I thought I could."

"Lois," he frowned. "I saw you after the wedding. You  were... upset," he said at last, struggling for the word.

"I said no," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken.

"You what?"

"I said no," she repeated. "I told him I couldn't marry  him."

He blinked in surprise. "Why?"

She studied his expression for a moment, and then her eyes  slid away. "I didn't love him," she said carefully. As if  there were something more she could have said. "And of  course I was upset, Clark," she continued. "No matter what  I said or did, I didn't expect him to be a criminal! I  didn't expect him to be arrested right there at the  wedding! I was in shock," she finished softly. "And if you  saw me and didn't realize that, you were only seeing what  you wanted to see."

He sighed. "Lois, what was I supposed to think?"

"You knew I didn't love him," she replied. "I told you  that. I was only marrying him because he was safe."

"Which is a terrible reason to marry anyone," he started  insistently, but he stopped himself. He had no right to  judge the choices she'd made.

She turned to look at him for a long moment, as if waiting  out his anger. "But you, Clark," she whispered at last,  "you weren't safe at all."

His breath caught, shock and hope stilling it in his  throat. Daring to believe he might understand her, he took  a step closer. "Lois..."

Instinctively she backed away, her hands rising defensively  before her. "You're my best friend," she said, and he  wasn't sure if it was an explanation or a warning reminder.  "You've always been there for me," she continued when he  didn't approach her again. "Encouraging, reassuring,  listening. I value your judgment. I valued our partnership.  I've told you things I've never willingly shared with  anyone." She shook her head. "I've given you every secret I  have. And in your hands they became weapons, whether you  used them or not."

"You know I wouldn't do that to you," he protested  immediately, disappointment burning in his chest. He'd  misunderstood her.

Lois tipped her head to the side. "Maybe not," she  conceded. "But you're not perfect, Clark. We all get angry,  say things we don't mean."

He dropped his gaze. He *had* said some hurtful things the  last time they'd talked. No matter how true they'd been, or  how much she'd deserved them, he regretted being  deliberately cruel.

"You knew me, Clark," she continued softly. "You understood  me better than I wanted you to. If you wanted to hurt me,  you could. Easily."

She was coming slowly closer now, and he tried to stay  immobile, not wanting to spook her again. "And I guess I  *did * always know how you felt about me," she admitted. "I  mean, I suspected it, at least. But you were my friend,  Clark. To risk that on some physical attraction, and lose  it, would have hurt too much."

He understood that; it was why he'd never said anything.  But she hadn't simply ignored whatever feelings she might  have, she'd acted in deliberate defiance of them. "Better  to throw the friendship away all together?" he asked  pointedly.

She looked away. "I know, it doesn't make much sense."

"Lois," he said, "what I feel for you isn't just a physical  attraction." He hesitated, and then concluded softly, "I  don't know what you're feeling."

She looked solemnly at him, stepping close, her hands  coming to rest on his chest. "I do care for you, Clark,"  she assured him. "And I-- I *am* attracted," she admitted,  her eyes watching the path of her fingers as they spread  against the cotton of his shirt. "I don't know what that  adds up to, but it's not what you want from me."

His hands rose to cover hers. "Let me decide what it is I  want," he insisted. "I can be patient--"

"I'm frightened."

She'd spoken so quietly he wouldn't have heard her at all  with human hearing. "Lois," he began.

"No, Clark, don't you see? All those reasons, they're still  true now. And if I-- if we-- if I let myself fall in love  with you, you'd be that much more dangerous."

His arms moved around her, pulling her tight to him. "I'd  be with you," he said softly. "You wouldn't be falling  alone."

She nodded mutely, unconvinced. "You have to trust me,  Lois," he continued quietly. "I know how hard that is,  believe me. But it's part of being friends, even without a  more serious relationship to consider. You have to accept  that I don't want to hurt you. Can you trust me?"

"I don't know why you'd want me anyway," she protested.  "Superman and Luthor's castoff."

"Hey," he said sharply, pulling back to look her in the  eye. "Don't say that. You are not anyone's 'castoff,' do  you hear me? Besides, I thought you were going to let me  decide what I wanted." He cupped a hand gently under her  chin. "And what I want is you," he said softly. "Not as a  friend, and not as a... an attraction. I want everything  you can give me. And I'll wait as long as you need, Lois, I  can give you time. I just-- I can't walk away from you  again. Not now and not ever. So I guess what I need to know  is, what do *you* want?"

Lois looked up at him with shining eyes. She'd come here to  explain, to apologize, to plead. Instead he'd accepted her  without question and laid himself out for her a second  time. He was watching her expectantly now, and though he  tried to hide it, she could feel his tension.

"I don't know," she admitted in a whisper, but she  stretched up to brush her lips lightly over his. The  contact was as faint as it was fleeting, but she knew  nonetheless that it was a mistake. She'd always known. They  couldn't go halfway. It wasn't fair of her to ask it of  him, and it wasn't what she wanted.

<All or nothing...>

With a tiny sound, she pressed forward again, let herself  kiss him properly, fully. He hesitated at first, not  wanting to push her, but in a moment his hands moved  carefully to the small of her back, pulling her to him in  an embrace that was more loving than passionate. Lois let  her arms twine around his neck, her heart speeding in her  chest, her mind and body reeling at the wash of emotion  filling her. She'd never felt anything so powerful, so warm  and vibrant and beautiful, and the wake of it left her  gasping.

Was that love, then? That heavy sweep of sensation that  assailed her when his lips met hers? Or the unexpected  knowledge that he meant more to her in this moment than  anyone ever had? The sudden rush of protective tenderness  that rose in her when he whispered her name, desperately,  disbelieving? She wasn't sure, but when at last he pulled  away to look at her, she heard herself answering him, heard  her voice small but sure. "Yes, Clark..."

"Yes?" he repeated tentatively, his eyes still faintly  clouded with emotion. "Yes what, Lois?"

She smiled a little, hesitant. "Yes, I trust you," she said  softly.

He smiled at her then, gently, warmly. "You said you'd give  me time," she continued. "I-- I want to try. Being  together, I mean." She spread her hand over his chest once  more, shyly dropping her gaze. "I don't know for sure what  will happen," she warned. "I don't really know how I feel  yet. I do know you're my best friend. And I know I've never  felt this way before," she admitted, "the way I feel when  you touch me... I don't know what that means."

"It means we'll take things slowly," he said. "As slowly as  it takes, until we're both comfortable. Believe me, I've  never felt anything like that, either," he confided, one  hand cupping her cheek. "But I'd like to try it again  sometime," he said, his grin teasing now.

She smiled a little as well, the tension of the moment  finally lifting. "Well, we'll have to see what we can do  about that," she replied.

He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her the  way he'd done countless times before, as partners, as  friends. The way he hoped to do countless times in the  future, as something closer. "Yes, we will," he assured  her. "Together."

"Mmm," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. "That  sounds so nice..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The song in question is All or Nothing, performed by O-Town  and written by Steve Mac and Wayne Hunter.

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All or Nothing