Can you do one where you ask Clark for money (as a joke) but he’s so immediately down and also kinda worried? thank you!
Cat Grant loves a good scheme. “I see it all the time online, you have to test him.”
You pick at your sandwich. The Daily Planet’s cafeteria is more of a restaurant. It’s the biggest news outlet in all of Metropolis, with a skyscraper for an office. The cafeteria has to accommodate that. It’s always open, always busy, but you and Cat managed to carve away space at a table in the corner of the room far from the kitchen and all the food laid out across stainless steel bars. “I don’t know,” you say finally. “I don’t want him to think I’m a user.”
“You’re not using. Don’t tell him what it’s for and watch what conclusion he comes to. It’s a good indicator.” She tucks a streak of her blonde hair behind her ear, her hoop earrings giving a gentle clink. “Seriously, boys are evil. You need to know if you can depend on him in your time of need. And I need to know how much I respect him.”
You take a big bite of sandwich to avoid answering while you think, but the thought comes suddenly, “What if he actually gives me money?”
“That’s a win.”
You’ve never asked Clark for anything, as far as you can remember. You’ve been dating for five months and two weeks, which isn’t long, but sort of is? Like, you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him, and he’s so consistently lovely to you that you’re reluctant to ask, ‘cos maybe his answer will affect the way you look at him. Or what if he thinks you’re only dating him for the easy life he could provide?
“We’re basically on the same pay,” you say, “I don’t think he’ll believe me.”
“Sure he will.” Cat smushes the last half of her sandwich with her hand. The chips inside all crunch into crumbs.
You find you’re not that worried. Clark is sweet, and he likes a good joke.
You pull out your phone and take another bite. The sandwich is not good, but you’re hungry.
Clark can you send me some money, you type. You turn the phone to Cat for approval. When she nods, you hit send.
It takes a minute for him to answer. It’s an Apple payment via text for $50. You laugh like a shock.
“What did he say?” Cat asks.
You show her the phone, but Clark is already typing, his messages popping up on the screen in quick succession.
Is that enough?
$50
Is everything ok ? I can send more
“He sent another fifty,” you say.
“Oh my god.”
Your phone starts to ring in your hand, Clark’s profile photo in the middle of the screen: his sleeping face tucked over your heart. You giggle to yourself as you answer, doughy bread in your mouth. “Hi, sorry, I’m chewing.”
“That’s okay, honey,” he says, sounding cheerful and worried all at once, “what’s up? Is that gonna be enough?”
“Oh, er, my card declined. I’m getting lunch with Cat.”
“Downstairs? I can come down, sweetheart, I have my wallet.”
“No, I already paid for it.”
“Aw, great, I was worried for a second there.”
“I can send it right back to you, now,” you say, feeling ever so slightly guilty. You don’t know what you were expecting, but his urgency makes you wanna kiss him stupid, not trick him further. “Thank you, for– for being so quick. You saved me the embarrassment.”
“That’s okay, I don’t need it back–”
“Well, no, I can’t keep a hundred dollars just ‘cos you sent it, baby, I– my card declined, but it was the card reader, that’s all.”
“Just keep whatever you paid for lunch, then, and use the rest for lunch tomorrow.”
“It’s a sandwich."
“Then you can have sandwiches all week.”
You meet Cat’s eyes, failing to hide your unyielding elation. He’s such a catch. “Okay. Clark, I’m sending it back, okay?”
“Don’t tease me, I got so excited.”
You laugh and hang up on him.
Clark texts you ten seconds later: If you send it back to me I’m gonna send it back to you. Have a good break, see you later? <3
“I bet he will,” Cat says, having read the screen upside down.
You text Clark back: Yes!! Can I come home with you?
Yeah honey meet me by the elevators? I’ll be waiting for you
“He is such a dork,” Cat says, eyebrows raised. “But I’m happy for you.”
You’re feeling pretty good about it all yourself. You and Cat finish lunch and head your mildly separate ways. You’re in the print room today supervising, and it stretches into the uneventful afternoon. By finishing time, you’re excited to give Clark a kiss and sneak his hundred dollars back into his pocket somehow, but he’s not waiting by the elevator.
It’s tempting to keep the money. He did sound excited for you to keep it, as strange as that might be. He rejected your offer to give it back, then tried to compromise that you could keep it. He'd pay for your lunch all week.
Would he give you money for nothing at all? He was just worried, right? But when there was no problem, he didn’t want it back.
It doesn’t hurt to poke around a little.
Clark exits the elevator with a blank expression. When he sees you waiting a few feet away with your shoulders on the wall, his face lights up. His eyebrows soften, his lips lift and go white from the force of his smile.
“Let’s go home,” he says, grinning as he wraps his arm around you from the small of your back.
You lean up and kiss his jaw. “Today was long.”
“Too long, bubby.”
Bubby. You give him a harmless shove, but Clark pulls you right back in. Keeps his arm on you all the way home, give the few seconds getting off of the tram, where he offers his hand to guide you onto the road.
“So,” you say, “about earlier…”
“What happened earlier?”
“With the money.”
Clark narrows his eyes at you. “What about it? Honey, I already told you to keep it. It was yours the second I sent it.”
“No, it’s not– Clark. I would much rather you take it back, I really don’t need a hundred dollars for a sandwich I already paid for. It was this–” You pause, giving him a bashful, sorry smile. “Cat wanted me to see if you’d complain or not, I guess. So I lied about my card declining, sorry. I am actually sorry, and I can’t keep the money in good conscience.”
“Ooh, in good conscience,” he murmurs, mirroring your smile, though his is more of a smirk. “Well, that’s okay. If you feel bad about it, send it back to me, no hard feelings.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Thank you, handsome,” you say.
“What else is on your mind?”
“You… this isn’t supposed to sound like you need to say yes, but I guess I was wondering if you would’ve sent me it no matter what? My text literally just said can you send me money. I didn’t even say please, and I didn’t say it’s an emergency or anything.”
Clark shrugs at you. “Yeah, I would’ve sent it to you. I don’t care what it was for.”
“Clark, it was a hundred dollars.”
“Do you think you’re not worth a hundred dollars?”
“Not for no reason.”
“In the moment, I assumed it was an emergency because you never ask me for anything, do you?”
“Not really.”
“Would it shock you to know that I wish you would?” A curl falls onto his forehead, just above his dark brow. “You are the most important woman in my life. A hundred is nothing compared to that. I don’t really care what you want it for.”
You’re pretty sure that’s an I love you. Maybe he’s saving the real thing for somewhere more intimate than the street, but that’s gotta be close.
“Keep the money,” he says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I was still gonna send it back, even if you were just satisfying your curiosity. You didn’t lie to get it, you lied after.”
“You’re such a reporter,” you grumble, secretly very pleased. “Poking holes in my argument.”
(Clark sends you $50 the next day at lunch, with the text: Buy yourself dinner or whatever you want, do not send it back!
Then: Please just take it. For my gratification if nothing else. Please!!
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