contains the bit from Lunar Frenzy if you've read that and get deja vu
Clark and Sam fell into a rhythm; he stopped by almost every night for dinner and she always welcomed him with a smile. It was a good thing he had an extraterrestrial metabolism, or else he would have gained weight from all the hearty foods she fed him. She even started carrying ice cream in her freezer for him, just small pints in case he wanted something sweet after dinner. She never talked about her family despite him telling her about his, and he got the feeling that either there had been a massive falling out, or they weren't around anymore. He didn't think it was the latter, seeing as she told him her family was quite large and closely knit, so a falling-out seemed more likely. What could she have done to make all of her family cut ties with her? Did they not like that she moved away from them? His mom hadn't liked that he moved to Metropolis, but she hadn't disowned him over it.
They sat around her apartment after yet another fantastic dinner, this time a pot roast that had melted in his mouth with vegetables that had been cooked perfectly, and creamy mashed potatoes as a side. He was delightfully full, laying on her couch as she straightened away the kitchen, having shooed him out of it when he tried to help her.
"Hey, Sam?" He asked, nervousness forming a lump in his throat.
"Yes, Clark?"
"Do you…" He paused, "Do you want to go out sometime?"
"We already have dinner together on a regular basis." She said, a smile in her voice and he snorted.
"I meant as in a date." He said and there was a pause pregnant enough to where he kicked himself mentally. "Sorry, I--"
"No, don't be." She said, "I like you, Clark, I really do. If things were different, I would take you up on that in a heartbeat, I would."
"What do you mean, if things were different?" He asked, sitting up on the couch and swinging his legs over to sit on it properly, looking over at her in the kitchen.
"I have…baggage, Clark." She said, "The kind that makes relationships extremely difficult, if not impossible."
"What kind of baggage?" He asked, "Does it have something to do with your family and why you don't talk about them?"
"They're a part of it, but not the main part." She said and he stood from the couch, heading into the kitchen.
"You worried they wouldn't approve of a farm boy from Kansas?" He asked with a smile, but she gave a snort that was entirely devoid of humor.
"Definitely not that." She said and he laid his hands on her shoulders gently, the fabric of her hoodie warm and soft under his palms.
"Then, what? Talk to me." He said, "I like you, Sam, a lot, and not just because you feed me. You're funny, and I can tell you care. You admitted you like me, so what is it? What's holding you back?"
"I wish I could say, and that's the honest truth." She said, "But there are some things that should stay buried. Just know that it's for a very good reason."
"But you won't tell me what that reason is." Clark said and she gave him a hesitant nod making him sigh. Reaching up, he swept a lock of hair behind her ear and she looked at him as he held her jaw lightly, his hand sliding to the back of her neck. Wetting his lips, he searched her face for any sign he should stop, but he found none so he bent at the shoulders slightly, pressing his lips to hers softly. She sighed into the kiss, her eyes closing as she pressed back against him, her hands going to his chest, smoothing over his shirt. The kiss was shallow and chaste, his lips moving slowly over hers, but he couldn't stop the groan that left him as her hands slid down his chest, resting on his waist. He parted her lips gently, and he could hear how her heartbeat quickened as he dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her.
Some kind of restraint in her snapped and she pressed against him, her hands sliding to his back and fisting in his shirt as he deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue against hers. An odd growl bubbled up her throat and she broke the kiss suddenly, her eyes still closed as she rested her forehead against his chest, breathing heavily as her heart pounded in his ears.
"You okay?" He asked and she made a sound, nodding against him, but not looking at him. "Too much, too soon?"
"No, no it's fine, just give me a moment." She said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Her eyes looked more golden than usual when she picked her head up to look at him and his thumb moved back and forth over her cheek.
"Do you want me to go?" He asked.
"No, but you probably should." She said, "I'm not…I'm not kicking you out, you can stay if you want, I just…would like to be alone right now."
"Can I kiss you again before I go?"
"No, because if you do, I'm really not going to want you to go and that's a bad idea." She said and he nodded, pulling away from her. "It's not you, Clark, and I know how this sounds, but it is most definitely me. One hundred and ten percent."
Clark didn’t end up taking any leftovers with him this time, but he did give her hand a gentle squeeze before he left, heading back to his apartment and running his fingers through his hair as he sat down on his couch. The way her heartbeat had quickened and the way she had pressed against him had been encouraging, but she was keeping herself back for some reason. What could be so bad that she wouldn’t allow herself to be with someone she was attracted to? How did her family factor into it? He knew he should just let it go and respect her wishes, but something about it didn’t sit right with him, and not just from a purely selfish standpoint. He liked her a lot, and she was almost constantly on his mind. Again, not just because she fed him.
He thought about looking into her, maybe seeing if there was some big event with her family or something involving her, but that would be an invasion of her privacy, and with the last name of “Graves” his search results would be morbid, to say the least. Also, he only knew that she lived “in the mountains up north” before moving down to Metropolis, and there were countless small towns in that area where she could have lived. Going over what he knew about her in his head, he realized that he really didn’t know a whole lot. She was a great cook, had a big family that she wasn’t in contact with, and kept to herself. She didn’t talk about herself or offer any information about herself besides the surface stuff.
It would only drive him crazy if he kept thinking about it. She told him she was interested, but she couldn’t be in a relationship with him. That was it. End of story. It didn’t matter that it didn’t sit right with him, it wasn’t his decision, ultimately. Why did he also get the feeling that he just destroyed what friendship they had cultivated?
Clark left her alone for the next couple of days and she didn’t come over bearing food, so he took that as a hint. Days turned into weeks and he saw her very little, and because she was a quiet individual, he barely heard anything through the wall they shared, even when he focused his hearing.
It was nighttime and he was on his laptop when a thump from next door made him pause. It went quiet again, so he shrugged, continuing what he was doing but then there was a louder thump and he stopped again, his head tilting to the side as he listened. A low pained keening, rapid breaths on the verge of hyperventilation. A bang made him jump out of his seat, his heart lurching and he left his apartment, going down the hall to hers and knocking on her door.
“Sam?” He asked but there was no answer. He tried the doorknob but it was locked. There were sounds of a struggle within, heavy thumps as if someone was being thrown against a wall. To hell with it.
The apartment was dark when Clark forced the lock on the front door but he could hear the sounds of metal on metal coming from the back, a rapid, racing heart in his ears that sounded…off.
“Sam?” He asked, walking with slow steps to the back of the apartment. He had expected to come across her being attacked by some assailant, the sounds he had heard from his own apartment and out in the hall had sounded as such, but there was nothing. “Samantha?” He pushed open the door to the spare bedroom that wasn’t furnished, his eyes immediately going to the hunched figure in shadow against the opposite wall. “Sam?” Her head came up unnaturally and golden eyes glowed at him through the dark. He backed up on instinct as she suddenly charged at him, but the collar around her throat stopped her short and she hit the bare wood floor hard, the chain around the radiator keeping her back. She pulled at it, clawed hands swiping at him as her lips pulled back from razor-sharp teeth in a snarl. There was nothing human in her golden eyes, nothing of the quiet, gentle woman he knew. A ripple went over her skin and she dropped to her knees, claws digging furrows in the wood and he could see older marks on the floor and the walls in the range of the chain. Bones and joints popped sickeningly, her muscles writhing like snakes under her skin and he watched in mute horror as she transformed into a massive, almost primordial, russet wolf, the transformation itself looking excruciatingly painful.
The wolf stared at him with the same golden eyes, but the savage violence was gone, replaced by wariness and suspicion. He took a step toward it and it stepped back, its lip curling up slightly in a low growl. Stay back. Keep away.
“Easy.” He said, his voice low, “Easy now. I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept advancing on it until it had to press itself against the wall and he reached out, sinking to his knees, the startled yip she let out as he touched her tugging at his heart. The fur was soft but coarse as he ran his hand over it, burying his fingers in it. She didn’t try to bite him or harm him in any way, just stared at him as if she was expecting him to strike her. “I don’t even know if you can understand me like this, but I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” He continued running his hand over her fur, smoothing down her flank as his other hand reached out, running over her muzzle lightly. Her nose was warm but dry as it pressed into his palm, sniffing at him as he caught the small lick she gave him, her tongue barely coming out. She stood, pushing away from the wall, and pressing her head into his chest, her chest shuddering in a massive sigh. He laid his hands on her sides, running them down her body as he pressed his cheek to the top of her head. He went to undo the collar around her throat, but she pulled away from him sharply with another yip. “Okay, okay, I won’t remove it, but it has to be too tight, let me loosen it some.” She hesitated for a moment but came back to him, staying very still as he loosened the collar, her breathing becoming easier.
Clark turned, falling back against the radiator and she laid down, her head in his lap. Settling his hand on her, she sighed again and so did he, his hand running over the smooth fur of her head.
She fell asleep at one point, her head still in his lap, and low whines and yips left her, her paws twitching and he knew whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn’t good. The sun rose, golden light streaming into the room through the window and his stomach twisted as he heard her turn back, keeping his eyes forward and not looking down at her as she did.
“What--?” She asked, “Clark?” He looked down at her then, seeing her look up at him, her eyes were tired but back to their warm amber color.
still only tagging the gen people, I don't have a story specific list going for this one yet.
Clark wasn’t able to return the bowl until the next night after he got home from work, walking the short distance down the hall and knocking on her door. It opened a moment later and she gave him a small smile, taking the bowl from him as he handed it to her.
“How was it?” She asked.
“Absolutely incredible.” He said and her smile widened just a touch. An equally amazing smell was coming from the apartment and he breathed in deeply. “What is that smell?”
“Beef stew and fresh baked mini loaves of bread.” She explained and his eyes widened a bit. “Would you like some?”
“I have not eaten all day, but only if you don’t mind sharing.” He said and she gave a small laugh.
“Come on in.” She said and stepped aside to let him into the apartment. He looked around a bit as he stepped inside, seeing the worn leather furniture and hearing her close the door behind him but not lock it.
“Do you often let guys you just met into your place for dinner?” He asked, turning to her and she snorted.
“No, I don’t.” Sam said, “But I consider myself an excellent judge of character and something tells me you’re one of the good ones, so I’m not worried. Have a seat, it’s almost finished based on the smell.” Going over to the couch, he sat down and was almost swallowed by the cushions, sinking down into the soft leather. “Yeah, I should have warned you. My couch likes to eat people.”
“Getting up again is going to be an adventure.” He said and she laughed, making him smile.
“I’ll give you a hand if you need it.” She said and he watched as she took the lid off the large pot, steam billowing up from the contents and she gave it a stir with a long wooden spoon. Giving a nod, she turned off the burner and got a couple of deep bowls from the cabinet, ladling stew into them and wrapping a few small loaves of dark bread that were resting on the counter in paper towels. She gave him his first and he scooted with some difficulty to the edge of the couch as she set the bowl down on the coffee table along with the bread and a spoon. “Let me know if you want butter.”
“You make that yourself, too?” He asked and she snorted.
“No, that I bought from the store.” She said and came back with her own bowl, sitting on the edge of a chair that matched the couch. Picking up the bowl, Clark stirred the contents around with the spoon, seeing the rich, dark broth with hearty cuts of beef, rough-cut carrots, potatoes, and celery. Scooping a spoonful, his eyes closed as he took a bite and she snorted again.
“Oh my god.” He said around the mouthful and caught her smile. “How do you cook so well?”
“My mom taught me.” She said with a shrug, “And I grew up in the mountains a few hours north of here so I’m used to cooking heavy foods that fill you up.”
“And the big family thing?”
“Lots of brothers and sisters, as well as Aunts and Uncles. We all kind of lived in the same area and were close.”
“Were?” He asked, taking another mouthful of stew.
“You have to be at least a level 10 friend to unpack that baggage, and you’re currently at a level 2 and that’s being generous.” Sam said and he snorted.
“Fair enough.” Clark said and ripped a piece off the small loaf of bread, the bread itself dark. Following her example, he dipped it into the stew and took a bite, the rich flavor of the bread mixing with the stew and making him almost moan. He must have made a face because she laughed again. “Shut up, this is really good.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She said.
“What made you move to the city?” Clark asked.
“Needed a change of scenery.” She said simply, “What about you? You don’t strike me as a city fella.”
“Because I’m not.” Clark said, “Grew up on a farm in Kansas. Got my journalism degree from KSU and moved here to become a reporter for The Daily Planet.”
“How’s that working out for you?” She asked and he shrugged.
“It’s work.” He said, “What do you do?”
“Tech job.” She said, “I work from home so it gives me a lot of freedom.”
“Like Geek Squad?”
“More software than hardware.” She said and he nodded.
“How’s your boyfriend going to feel about you inviting strange guys over for dinner?” Clark asked and she snorted.
“If I had one, he probably wouldn’t like it too much.” She said and he logged that information away. “Your girlfriend going to get uppity about you getting fed by your female neighbor?”
“If I had one, probably.” Clark said and she gave a crooked smile into her bowl, but it faded quickly and a small furrow creased her brow briefly. She was wearing a baggy hoodie again and sweatpants, but when he focused his vision, he saw her slight, muscular frame, albeit in an anatomical sense. There was deep scarring high on her chest in the hollow of her shoulder that colored the muscle itself, her collarbone carrying the signs of healing from a nasty break, and he knew that whatever had caused it had probably been extremely painful and highly traumatic. Relaxing his eyes, he looked away from her and back to his own bowl, taking another bite of stew and bread. They talked while they ate, getting to know each other and when his bowl was empty, he put it on the coffee table and laid back against the couch, his hands on his stomach.
“Full?” She asked and he nodded with a sound.
“That was very good.”
“Well, there’s plenty of leftovers if you want to take some for lunch tomorrow or something.” She said and he nodded. “Tomorrow night is taco Tuesdays and I am making bison tacos in the carne asada style if you would like to join me for that as well.”
“Bison tacos.” Clark said and she nodded. “Let me guess, you marinate it yourself.”
“Sure do, I’ll be preparing it tomorrow morning and it’ll sit in the fridge for 12 hours until tomorrow evening.” Sam said and he blinked at her. “What.”
“Do you feed anyone else in this building?” He asked.
“I used to feed the last person who lived in the apartment you’re in now, but then he got married and his wife thought I was making her look bad so she moved them out of there.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.” She said, shaking her head slightly. “I mainly keep to myself.”
“Well, I highly appreciate it. Couldn’t tell you the last time I had a good home-cooked meal. I usually don’t have time to cook.” Clark said.
“Like I said, I always end up making too much.” Sam said, “And to be honest, I’m used to feeding people so not sharing always felt a little off.”
“Just means you’re a good person.”
“Or a massive weirdo.” She said with a small smile and he snorted.
“Definitely not that.”
“You want to take some stew with you?”
“Kicking me out already?” He asked with a small smile and she snorted.
“I don’t mind the company, I just didn’t want to impose.”
“What’s for dessert?” He asked and she laughed.
“Sorry, I’m not a big sweets person, so you’re going to have to go without.” Sam said and he gave a mock-suffering sigh making her laugh again. He liked her laugh, he decided, it was open and genuine, and he liked that he could make her laugh. Okay, he was getting a bit of a crush on his new neighbor. Guess the old adage “the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” held true for him.
just tagging the general people for now, let me know if you want to get added
The apartment building was in a more rural part of Metropolis, something Clark was looking forward to as his last place had far too nosy neighbors who tried to make everyone else's business theirs. This place was quieter, the streets less busy with traffic, and the sidewalks cleaner and better maintained. Trees grew in places, adding a touch of nature to city life. The building itself was old, made of brick and his new apartment was on the second floor. It was a one-bedroom, one-bath kind of place, not that he needed or wanted anything bigger. Pulling the rented moving truck up out front, he looked at the double doors leading inside and he was glad he didn't have that much furniture. He could carry even the heaviest pieces with no effort, but they were still awkward to try to maneuver.
Getting out of the truck, he went around to the back and flung up the door, looking at his furniture with his hands on his hips. Well, it wasn't going to move itself. He slid the ramp out from its slot and walked up it, deciding on his couch first as it was the last thing to go in. Getting it down the ramp was easy, gravity did all the work there, but he looked at the stairs of the stoop and the double doors, trying to figure out the logistics of it. Heavy? Not for him. Awkward? Absolutely. Someone walked past him and up the steps as he was still figuring out the physics, but they stopped and he looked at them.
"Need help?" She asked, tucking a lock of deep red hair behind her ear.
"If you wouldn't mind." Clark said sheepishly, figuring she would just summon her boyfriend or someone to give him a hand. Instead, she pushed the sleeves of her hoodie up her forearms and went to one end of the couch, crouching down to lift with her legs.
"On three?" She asked and he got over his surprise quickly, going to the other end and grabbing it. "One. Two. Three." The grunt he gave when he lifted it was entirely for appearances and he noticed that she didn't strain herself at all. Maybe she worked out and a couch was nothing weight-wise. "Where are we taking it?"
"Forty-two A." He said and she cracked a smile that reached her warm, honey-colored eyes.
"Nice, I'm 42B, you must be my new neighbor."
"Clark."
"Samantha, but call me Sam." She said, "Okay, Clark, you are taller than I am, so I'm going to go first. Ready?"
"Ready." He said with a nod and they took the stoop one step at a time as she was walking up it backward. She pushed the doors open with her butt and they carried it inside, heading for the stairs.
"Hoo boy, this is going to be interesting." Sam said, "Ready?"
"When you are." Clark said and she nodded, starting to back up the stairs that luckily had no bends in them. He kept an ear on her heart rate to make sure she didn't over-exert herself, but it didn't change, staying completely steady as they carried the heavy couch up the stairs. She gave a huff when they got outside of his apartment, but she wasn't breathing heavily either. Digging his new keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the door and they carried the couch inside, setting it where he wanted it.
"Any other heavy, awkward furniture?" She asked, her tone teasing, "A modern art piece that's literally just a wheelbarrow full of cinder blocks maybe?"
"No, that's the biggest offender." Clark said with a smile. "I should be able to take it from here, thanks for your help."
"No problem." She said, "I am right next door if you need anything, just go ahead and give me a knock." They left the apartment together and there was a moment of awkwardness as they tried to go out the door at the same time, but he stepped back, gesturing for her to go first and she gave him a smile as she went past him. As she did, he caught the scent of trees and forest along with a musky smell that was…strange, but not unpleasant.
The rest of the move went smoothly and faster than normal as he was able to carry several heavy boxes at once and the rest of the furniture wasn’t nearly as awkward as the couch. It was still nighttime by the time he was finished and the rental had been returned and he relaxed in his new place, leaning back on the couch with a sigh. There was a knock at his door and he looked at it curiously before heaving himself up and going to it, opening it and seeing Sam outside, a large bowl in her hands.
“I figured you would be hungry but would be too tired to cook.” She said, holding it out to him and he took it from her. It was still warm and he peeled back the plastic wrap covering the top. “Beef burgundy with mashed potatoes. I always make too much, a side effect of growing up with a big family.”
“This smells amazing.” He said and it did, the smell of beef and wine mixed with potatoes wafting up from the bowl.
“The potatoes are homemade too, none of that powdered crap.” She said.
“Thank you so much, Sam, I can’t wait to dig into this.” Clark said and she gave him a somewhat embarrassed smile.
“I hope you like it, feel free to return the bowl whenever. It’s not like you don’t know where I live.” She said, “Have a nice night.”
“You too.” He said and watched her go, leaning out of the doorway slightly as she went back into her apartment, the door closing. Turning back into his, he closed and locked the door, raising the bowl to his nose and inhaling deep again, his mouth watering at the rich smell.
It tasted just as good as it smelled, the beef fork tender and the mushrooms cooked to perfection, the potatoes creamy but not too buttery to overpower the rest of it. His phone rang as he was eating and he picked it up, answering it after looking at the screen.
“Hey, mom.” He said.
“Hey, honey, how was the move?” His mom asked.
“Uneventful, thankfully.” Clark said, “I did meet one of my new neighbors though.”
“Man or woman?”
“Woman, her name is Sam, Samantha, she helped me get the couch into the new place. Also brought me dinner.” Clark said and his mom hummed briefly. “Mom. Don’t.”
“Is she a good cook?”
“Very.”
“Marry her immediately.” His mom said and he snorted, “Give me grandchildren.”
“Oh my god, mom.” Clark said, putting his head in his hand.
“I’m not getting any younger and I want grandbabies.”
“I just met the woman!” He said with a laugh, “Besides, I don’t even know if I can have kids with…normal people.”
“What do you know about her?” Martha asked.
“Besides that she’s a great cook and can deadlift a couch?” Clark asked, “She has a big family. That’s it.”
“Is she pretty?” His mom asked and he thought about it for a moment, recalling how her hair wasn’t a true red, but a deep copper color with gold highlights, how her eyes were an almost liquid honey color, warm and calming, and she had a smattering of adorable freckles over the bridge of her nose.
“Yeah, she’s pretty.” Clark admitted with a small smile.
“Okay, get to know her then marry her and give me grandchildren.” Martha said and he snorted.
“My dinner is getting cold, I’ll talk to you later mom.”
“Talk to you later, sweetheart.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Give me grandbabies!” He laughed at that and hung up, shaking his head.
