Tough Case
Summary: Clark Kent/Superman x Journalist!Reader -> You don't trust Clark Kent, and you have reasons why. But, after a conversation with Superman, you begin to open up to both Superman and Clark.
Disclaimer: Rivals/Enemies to lovers, journalist!reader who has just transfered to the daily planet. Ik it's May but Christmas vibes eventually, emotionally avoidant!reader, eventual work partners, slow burning friends to lovers, reader has goddaughters, holding hands, snowball fights, snowed-in, identity discovery/reveal, 10.3k words.
You had been working at the Daily Planet for six months. And, it was going…well.
Perry was a better boss than your last one had been. The coffee was slightly better, and your desk was a little bigger. And the staff was nice.
Well, most of them.
“Having a partner isn’t a weakness, you know. They can be a strength. Hold each other up, support each other-”
Clark had been rushing after you, through the bullpen, since Perry had given his morning talk and orders and you had found out your lone adventure wasn’t going to be so lonesome.
You sighed, focusing on the case file in your hands. You had picked it up from your desk before being pulled into the morning meeting.
“You really know how to make a girl swoon, don’t you, Kent?”
The block of your heels clacked against the floor, as you weaved in and out of people. Clark wasn’t having an easy time keeping up with you.
“I get the feeling you don’t like me very much,” he said as he finally caught up with you.
“Really?” You asked, starting up the printer to make some copies of the file in your hand. “What gave it away?”
Clark shifted on his feet as he stood beside you, moving to the side to avoid being hit with the mail trolley.
“Have I done something to upset you?” He asked, his voice tense with worry. “Because if I have, please tell me.”
You didn’t answer, and instead concentrated on making sure the printer didn’t eat your paper again.
You heard Clark bark a quiet laugh. “You seem to be able to speak your mind to everyone else. So why not me?”
Turning your neck quickly, you looked at him. Your gaze was less than warming.
“I work better alone. I told you that from day one. So why make Perry agree to make me your partner?”
Clark shrugged, looking for his answer. “I dunno. I have a few good leads for your case. I thought we could work together. I thought it would be easier.”
“I have my own leads,” you told him. “I can write my own article. I don’t need help from someone who’s just gonna try and steal it down the road. Free press is a competition, right?”
Clark nodded, slowly. “I did say that but– that’s out of context.”
Less than a week ago, Clark had been standing with Lois by the coffee maker, having a discussion over the morals of story ownership. Whilst someone might discover a story, it is theirs. But that doesn’t stop others from finding it out, too.
There’s a difference between using somebody else's sources and quotes, and finding your own which just happen to be similar.
Finally, the printer had stopped jittering.
“You know,” you sighed. “I see right through you.”
“I wasn’t aware you had x-ray vision?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you bundled together the copies. “You put on this act.”
“What act?” Clark asked, starting to get offended.
“This…” You waved a hand over him. “This bumbling, clumsy – but somehow always manages to save the day – ultimate farmboy next door act. And I see right through it.”
Clark bit the inside of his cheek as gaze darkened just a little and he looked at you. “You think you know me, huh?”
You nodded, firmly.
“Fine.” Clark placed his hands on his hips as he looked at you, clearly annoyed. “Have it your way. Use your sources, write your story. And I’ll write mine.”
You raised a brow, though completely unsurprised. “So you are gonna steal my story?”
“Perry put us on this together-”
“Because you asked.”
“But since you wanna be so stubborn about it-”
“Stubborn?!”
“We’ll write it separately and have Jimmy splice it together. 100% effort, 50-50 shared article.”
You glared at him for a while, even more so when he held out his hand.
“Deal?”
You knew you didn’t have much of a choice. Perry trusted you, but Clark had been at the Daily Planet a lot longer than you. If he wanted a partner on something, you had a feeling it would be a battle to try and shift Perry from the idea.
Putting the copies under your arm, you shook his hand. “Fine.”
Having an understood shared article was better than having the rug pulled from under you.
Not long after striking the deal, you headed out in search of your sources. One called you in the early hours of the morning, telling you to meet them outside the quarry.
Meanwhile, Clark was still in the office, making a few calls to confirm his leads.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lois said, her voice light as she passed his desk.
He’d been on hold for over thirty minutes, but hadn’t stopped glaring at your empty desk.
“What’s your opinion of Y/n?”
Lois shrugged. “She’s a hard worker. Quiet. Saw her reaction when Perry said she’d be your partner for this. Is that why you look so…pensive?”
“I’m not pensive.”
“Annoyed, then.”
“I’m not annoyed.”
Lois shrugged. “Could have fooled me. What’s going on?”
Clark sighed. “She thinks I’m gonna steal her story.”
“Are you?”
“No! We’re partners. Well, we’re meant to be. And, instead, we’ve made a deal to write our own articles. I’m gonna have Jimmy splice them together.”
“Why not just work on it together?”
Clark sighed, again. “She didn’t seem thrilled about working together. Why make her write with me, too?”
Lois hummed. “She hasn’t been here long, but usually by now the newbie’s have made some kind of friendship group. I wonder why?”
At that moment, Cat leaned in. “I know why.”
“You do?” Clark asked.
Cat nodded. “Rumours have it her last job didn’t end so well.”
“Because of Y/n?”
Cat shrugged. “I don’t know the full details, but a couple sources I have over at the Eagle tell me her last partner completely pulled the rug from under her.”
“He stole her story?” Lois asked, testing the waters for her answer.
“Remember that front page story Perry lost his mind over, just before Christmas?”
Lois and Clark nodded.
“That was her?” Lois asked.
“Rumours have it.” Cat nodded. “But, then again, they’re just rumors. If we want the truth, we should probably ask her.”
“Why haven’t you asked her?”
“Because she needs a little time,” Cat said. “Her last job…I suspect it was like leaving her family.”
Clark’s gaze fell onto your desk. Between the messy post-it notes, overflowing pile of random papers, two smaller case files, and your desk-top computer, he spotted a picture frame.
It was you, two girls and another woman in front of a building. He hadn’t paid much attention to it before. He just figured the woman was your sister. But, taking a closer look, the woman didn’t look related to you.
Her face shape was different to yours, the eye colour, smile…all of it different. But the two girls look related to her. She was their mom, most likely.
Looking even closer, Clark recognised the building you were all standing in front of. The Metropolis Eagle.
Clark’s curiosity was piqued. Why have a picture of people, standing in front of your old building, on your desk at your new job? And, if the rumours Cat told him were true…how badly had it gone down?
Over the next couple of days, Clark kept his eye on you. As he suspected, he ran into you more often than you liked. But, with overlapping sources and meetings, it was inevitable.
“Wanna get some lunch?” Clark asked you as you both left the lab where you had been pushed together for a meeting with the owner.
“You think we should spend more time together?” You asked, your voice a little lighter, as you rummaged through your bag for…something.
Clark shrugged. “We do work together. Maybe…rather than fighting over this, we work together. It would also save Jimmy a job.”
“How about this?” You asked, looking up at him. “You go and do what you wanna do. And I’ll-” You looked at your phone. “Go to the hospital.”
“What?”
The lighter expression you had been holding on your face disappeared in an instant.
“I need to go to the hospital.”
Looking around you, the panic was rising up your throat as you tried to figure out where you were.
“I-I- what street– where did I-”
Clark took you by your shoulders. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I need– what street are we on?”
Clark told you. “The hospital is three blocks away. I’ll drive you.”
“No-”
“Y/n, you’re not in the right frame of mind to drive, right now. Who’s at the hospital?”
“My goddaughter. She’s- I don’t know. I just-”
Clark nodded. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Ten minutes later, you were running down the hallway of the children’s ward of the hospital.
“Y/n!”
Turning on your heel, you looked down one of the halls where Molly, the mother of your goddaughter was standing.
“Molly!”
“Hey,” she smiled, accepting your hug.
“How’s Iris? Is she-”
“She’s okay. She fell off her bike,” Molly explained. “No broken bones, no concussion. She’s got a couple grazes and a sprained wrist. Nothing, a couple painkillers and some ice cream won’t fix.”
You laid a hand over your chest. “Oh, thank god.”
Then Molly shifted on her feet. “I should warn you-”
“Y/n!”
You felt your skin crawl with betrayal as you heard your name leave the mouth of Molly’s newly ex-husband and your ex-partner.
“And Clark Kent!” Richard seemed surprised. “My, my. Isn’t this a surprise?”
Clark’s gaze flicked across everyone’s faces. Molly was the woman in the photo – the two girls, her daughters. Your goddaughters. Richard was…the journalist who covered the Eagle’s front page story before Christmas.
“I heard you got a job over at the Planet,” Richard smiled. “Hope they’re keeping you busy.”
“Fuck you.”
“No need for hostility,” Richard held up his hands. “A story’s a story. Am I right, Kent?”
Rolling your eyes, you shoved past Richard and entered the hospital room. The door closed just as you heard Molly tell him to shut his mouth.
After you had left the Eagle, it had taken less than three months for Molly to turn up outside your apartment door with Jane and Iris. She was divorcing Richard and didn’t have anywhere else to go.
You had accepted them with open arms. Richard had been your partner, until he betrayed you. You’d worked with him long enough to know he could be one of the nicest people. Until the Hyde to his Jekyll came out.
Inside the hospital room, Jane hugged you tight before letting you go to sit on the edge of her younger sister’s bed.
“What happened, kiddo?”
“I fell off my bike. The doctor said I’ve sprained my wrist.”
You nodded. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, it hurt at first. Like, really bad. But now it’s okay. Mommy said I can have ice cream.”
You chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”
“Who’s that?” Iris asked, looking over your shoulder to the tall, broad and handsome man standing outside her room.
Clark was talking to Richard. Rather, he was nodding along as Richard rambled to him about something. Molly just looked fed-up.
“Oh, that’s-”
Jane smiled. “He’s handsome. Is he your new partner?”
“Uhh.”
Jane and Iris shared a knowing look.
“Sorta.”
“Sorta?” Jane asked.
“We’re…working on an article together but…it’s complicated.”
Suddenly, the door opened. “Say bye-bye to your dad, girls. He’s leaving now.”
“Bye!” They both called from the bed.
Richard, who was waiting for his girls to run and hug him, dropped his arms awkwardly. “Uh, bye then, girls. See you next week, yeah?”
“Bye!” They called again.
As Richard moved away and left, Molly invited Clark inside.
“Girls, say hello to Mr Kent.”
“Hello,” Iris smiled.
“Hi,” Jane smiled, before looking at you with a knowing look.
“Hi,” he smiled back. “I heard you’ve fallen off your bike?”
Iris nodded, very quickly jumping into her story about what happened. While she was trying to ride as fast as she could, she saw a cat and didn’t want to hit it, so pressed her brakes but swerved and then fell.
“Are you Y/n’s new partner?”
Clark looked at you as he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, and rocked on his feet. “Well…it’s-”
“Complicated?” Iris asked, raising her brow. “That’s what grown-ups usually say when they’re being childish.”
Clark let out a nervous chuckle, but looked at you nonetheless. Meanwhile, Molly stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on her daughter’s back.
“Iris.” She warned. “Sorry.”
“No, no. It’s…it’s fine.”
You and Clark stayed for twenty minutes before being shooed back to work by Molly and Jane (who whispered once more about how handsome Clark was).
“Still hungry for food?”
You turned quickly. Quicker than Clark had been expecting.
“Iris had a point back there,” you said. “About being complicated, being childish. But-”
Clark cut you off. “Sometimes complicated can also just mean complicated.”
You swallowed a little. And then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Y/n, listen…” Clark shifted on his feet, awkwardly, until his gaze found your own. “I don’t know what happened at your last job.”
“You don’t?”
“Well…sorta. I mean- I don’t know the full story.” Clark said. “I don’t know what your last partner did to you, or how badly it screwed things up but, I just want you to know, I’m not him. I know that doesn’t really instill a lot of trust either.”
You nodded. You had lost count of the amount of times a ‘nice’ guy had told you he was ‘one of the nice’ ones, and then that turned out to be the opposite.
“I’m just- what I’m trying to say is-” Clark sighed, frustrated at himself for not knowing what to say. “I respect your reasons for not trusting me. But…can you try and judge me on my actions? At least every once in a while?”
For a moment, you paused. He had a point. A point you already knew. From most of his actions, on the face of them, he was a genuinely good guy. Bought coffee in the mornings, helped people edit, helped people in general.
You’d just seen him with your goddaughters. He had them smiling, laughing – feeling the complete opposite as they did when they’d been around their father, recently.
But you still had your reservations.
Richard had bought coffee. Richard had been nice. Richard had been helpful.
And, although Clark wasn’t Richard…you’d only known Clark for six months.
Your trust had been shattered at the Eagle. You didn’t want another story being taken from you, and having you stripped of your credibility.
Swallowing, hard, you nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
Over the next week, you tried your hardest to judge Clark based on his actions and his words. But it was proving difficult to lower your guard when around him during writing sessions, interviews and information.
You were walking back from work after finishing late. Your route was only a couple of blocks and, since it was a Friday night, the streets of Metropolis were almost as packed as they were when people took an early lunch break in the summer.
Halfway home, your heel broke.
“In need of assistance, ma’am?”
Jumping a little, you turned around and took a breath of relief. “Superman.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, my shoe broke. I’ll be fine.”
Superman looked around the block. It was late, and dark, and although there were people, they were tipsy and/or drunk.
“Maybe I can help fix-” Before he could finish his sentence, you took off your other shoe and broke the heel.
“I’m not looking to walk barefoot through the city and,” you shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to replace these anyway.”
“You know, I could have carried you home.”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Well…may I walk you home? It is late and you’re on your own.”
Looking around, you soon turned back towards him. “I guess…I guess it couldn’t hurt. But, if sirens pass us, I expect you to follow them and not me, we clear?”
Superman chuckled. “Very clear, ma’am.”
“Call me Y/n. I feel like my mother when you call me ma’am.”
“Sorry, ma’a- I mean, Y/n.”
You smiled. “Better. Thank you. So, what are you doing on this side of Metropolis?”
“A pub brawl. You?”
“Late night at the office.” You said. “I should probably tell you, I am a journalist so…I expect full scoop if we do pass sirens.”
“Daily Planet?”
You looked at him, surprised. “How did you-”
“Your badge,” Superman pointed out.
On your hip, you had your Daily Planet ID badge on view.
“Right. Duh.” You chuckled.
“I don’t recognise you. Are you new to the Planet?”
“Yeah. Well, sorta. I’ve been there six months so far.”
“Enjoying it?”
You nodded, lifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “Actually, yeah. Perry’s a good boss, coffee’s better, people are nice.”
“What’s your latest scoop?”
“I’ve heard you’re good friends with Clark Kent,” you said. “Figured you’d already know.”
“Uhh, well, Clark doesn’t tell me much about his work.”
“Really?”
“He…he did tell me he had a new partner, though. Is that meant to be you?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Sorta. I-I kinda blew up at him over it.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I kinda have a history with work partners and Perry knew that. He knows why, too. But, when Clark asked him to partner up with me, he jumped at the chance.”
“Mind me asking about your history with your partner?”
You sighed, debating whether or not to tell him. “It’s kinda complicated. Or, feels that way, at least. I had this story and…just before publication, my trusted partner of almost ten years took it to our editor and said it was his. The story ran front page and everything. I wasn’t even a footnote.”
“But it was your story?”
You nodded. “Every word of it. Had the evidence and everything. All the copies, edit notes – everything. Took it to my editor and he just shrugged. Said free press was a competition. Since I didn’t bring it to him first, it wasn’t my story.”
Clark felt sick to his gut. He hadn’t meant to pry this much, but he had wanted to know more about you. But, the second you opened up to him, he felt like he was really going to be sick.
Because now he knew.
But he wasn’t Clark.
“I’m so sorry they did that to you.”
“Not much I can do about it, now,” you said. “But, he got his just deserts.”
“He did?”
“Not long after the story ran, his wife divorced him. Molly – his wife – we’re good friends. I’m also godmother to their two beautiful and funny little girls.”
Clark couldn’t help but smile as you did. Without your guard up, you felt safe to talk some more. And he couldn’t help but admire the way your eyes lit up when you told him random side stories about your goddaughters.
He’d only met them for twenty minutes but the stories you told, and how you told them, he could totally see it. Jane practised for her recital at school – which was apparently why you disappeared from work early two weeks ago (though Perry seemed to know). Iris running rings around her neighbours.
It was the first time in six months Clark had heard you laugh. Truly laugh. Not one that barked at him out of sarcasm.
“Well, this is me.” You said, pointing at your apartment building. “Thank you, for walking me home.”
“Anytime, Y/n.”
Just before you walked into your apartment building, you turned back around. “Hey.”
“Yes?”
You smiled at him. “Thank you for listening. I know it probably sounded boring but…thank you.”
“It didn’t sound boring. And, you’re welcome.” Clark was about to fly away when he turned back around to you. “The reporters at the Planet…they’re good people. It might be worth getting to know them?”
For a moment, you remained fixed in your spot. Then you nodded. “I might just try that.”
And you did.
By the time your and Clark’s story ran in the paper – landing you both on the front page – you had allowed yourself to trust Clark enough to save Jimmy the job of splicing your articles together.
You worked together and stayed late at the bullpen in order to write the article together. You shared your casefile with him, and he showed you the information he had found from his research.
Whilst writing, although some things overlapped, other pieces of information were like two jigsaw pieces finally fitting together.
You also got to know Lois and Cat some more. Cat had the scoop on your old job, including some other reporters that had transferred to other newspapers after you left. Lois and yourself shared the odd comment that still kept Clark humble.
“What do you say, Y/n?” Jimmy asked. “Celebrations calls for drinks?”
You looked at the clock on your screen. “Oh, uh, actually…I’m needed elsewhere.”
“What? No,” Cat pouted. “Can’t you do one drink? It is yours and Clark’s names on the front page?”
You smiled a little, with a nervous chuckle. “I know, and I’m sorry. But have one for me, yeah?”
Cat sighed. “Fine. But I’m ordering my brand. I love you, but your choice of drink is appalling.”
Jimmy scoffed. “Why not mine?”
As they bickered about choices of celebratory drinks, Clark leaned into you.
“Sure you can’t come?”
You nodded, nervously. “I’m sure. I promise Iris and Jane a movie night.”
“Which movie?”
You shrugged. “Dunno yet. They get two picks each and we put on a random generator. See you on Monday?”
Clark nodded, letting you go. But, as he watched you leave the building, he couldn’t help but wonder what you were really up to.
Since your conversation with Superman, you’d disclosed the same information to Clark and the others, so he was no longer in ‘questionable ethics’ territory. But, on top of that information that Clark knew, he also knew Molly had taken the girls away for the weekend to visit her parents.
So, you were home alone.
As far as he was aware, you didn’t have a story that required a late night meet up with a lead. You, as Cat had gracefully pointed out when Jimmy suggested they go out for drinks, had a non-existent love life.
So, what were you doing?
“Should I be worried you’re stalking me?”
You’d spotted the familiar floating red cape outside your fire exit five minutes ago. When he didn’t knock, you decided to throw the window open and check where he was.
“I just wanted to check in.”
“Didn’t think to ring the doorbell?”
“Sorry,” he said, landing on the platform. “Force of habit.”
“You make a habit of landing on people’s fire escapes?”
“Well…”
You chuckled. “Relax, Superman. I’m only messing.”
He chuckled. “I saw Clark and the others not too long ago. I also read your article. Front page, congrats.”
You tipped your imaginary hat. “Thank you.”
“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?”
“I am.” You shrugged, “In my own way.”
“And that way is?”
“Enjoying my quiet apartment while I have it.” You nodded to the open window you had climbed through in order to sit on the steps of the fire escape. “I love my goddaughters, but sometimes I like the sound of silence.”
Superman chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the barrier. “Noisy?”
“In the best way, but yes.” As you looked back at Superman, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He seemed to have something on his mind.
“Something on your mind?”
“What?”
“You seem worried about something.”
“I do?”
You nodded. “I’m off the clock, so this will all be off the record. Superman is usually Clark Kent’s domain, anyway. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Superman sighed. “I don’t know if there is.”
“The man who helps save people daily doesn’t have anything to worry about?”
He sighed. “I guess…this is off the record?”
You nodded. “Completely.”
“Okay. Well, I have this…friend. Not ‘friend’. They’re more like a–”
“Situationship?”
“No.” He seemed genuinely disgusted by the term. “No, nothing like that. Just…we work together.”
“Another superhero?”
“No. This is…at work. Away from…me.”
“Okay.”
“You see, I don’t think she likes me very much. Or, maybe she didn’t, but now she does? It’s…It’s hard to tell. She’s the lone wolf type. Doesn’t like working with others, independent almost to a fault.”
You nodded. She sounded familiar.
“Everytime I think I’m getting close to her, she…pulls away.”
“Well, how long have you known her?”
“A…short while.”
“And how long is a short while?”
“Almost eight months.”
You nodded. “Well, the best advice I can give you is…take your time. It takes time. And effort. I know a thing or two about emotional wall building and,” you chuckled. “I can tell ya, it’s not an easy thing to tear down. Especially when you’re afraid…”
“Afraid of what?” Superman asked, when you didn’t continue.
“Especially when, even if you don’t get hurt again, you’re afraid you’ll trip on the rubble and hurt yourself anyway.” You looked at him. “Or that another person will mistake your rubble for fresh building blocks and accuse you of building the emotional wall, again.”
Superman seemed to take a breath, unsure of what to say next as your words washed over him.
“A little kindness, and a safe space, can go a long way,” you told him with a light smile. “I know that first hand. Show her reasons to trust you. Even if she doesn’t believe you right now, keep showing her. Hopefully, it’ll be worth the wait.”
“Who showed you?”
“You did,” you said. “And Clark. I-I don’t know what, or if, he’s told you anything but…I spent a long time fighting him because of my experience with others. After my conversation with you, I thought if Clark hadn’t proven me right yet, then I shouldn’t be trying to find evidence to prove he was going to.”
You and Superman spoke for another twenty minutes before the sound of sirens wailing across the city were calling for him.
Over the following months, as you got to know and became a close friend to the others at the Planet, you also got to know Superman.
“There’s something familiar about you,” you blurted out one November evening, whilst sitting out on your fire escape.
Clark shifted on his feet, trying to keep his ‘cool’ facade up. “There is?”
Your eyes narrowed at him, but not in malice or hate. It was in genuine curiosity. Like there was something different on his face and you couldn’t work out what it was.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice distant. “I-I’ve been thinking about it for a while, to be honest.”
“Why not mention it before?”
You shrugged, wrapping your arms around you tighter. “Guess I just thought it was because I’ve talked to you more than I ever thought I would. Even as a reporter.”
Superman chuckled with you.
“But…I don’t think that’s it. Have…” You bit your lip a little, debating whether or not to ask. “Have we met before…outside of you being Superman? I know you have a normal job- well. A semi-normal life outside of being a superhero.”
Superman nodded, folding his arms, trying to hide his smile.
There had been numerous conversations over the last few months that let you know more about Superman than you suspected anyone else did. Aside from Clark. And maybe Lois.
“A coffee shop?” You shook your head. “No, that’s not it. On the metro? I know you can fly and all but even normal, everyday Superman has to find a way around the city, right?”
“How often are you on the metro?”
You hummed. “Right.”
You sighed, still focusing your gaze on him. You knew him. You knew you knew him. You just didn’t know from where.
“You’re not a reporter, are you?” You half joked.
Clark felt his entire body heat up. He chuckled, trying to keep his nerves at bay. Looking at his feet for a moment, he shook his head. “No. No, I'm not a reporter.”
You sighed. “Just as well. You’d probably get all the scoop on yourself, anyway.”
“Wouldn’t that be considered unethical?”
You nodded. “You don’t seem like the unethical type.”
“Thank you?”
You laughed a little before feeling the chill.
“Cold?”
“I’m fine,” you shrugged.
Superman smiled at you, walking closer. “Here. Give me your hands.”
Holding them up, a little confused, he clasped them together before covering his own around both of yours. Within seconds, you were able to feel your fingertips again, and it was quickly spreading throughout your body.
“Is that a part of your superpower?”
He chuckled, again. “No. I just run hot.”
Your eyes remained on his for a beat too long to be considered casual. Thankfully, as you darted your gaze away, you saw what you’d been waiting for.
“It’s snowing,” you said.
Clark couldn’t help but admire you as you looked out to the darkened city as the snow started falling. There was something softly magical about it all. You included.
Sadly, the feeling of your hands in his as you both looked out to the rest of the city didn’t last long. Crime stopped for no one.
“I better go.”
You nodded, a little sad. “Be careful.”
“Goodnight, Y/n.”
“Night, Superman.”
Gently, he squeezed your hand a little before floating and flying off across the city. You were used to him going to save the city, but something was still bothering you.
Who was he? And why was he so familiar?
Your answer came a month later, just before Christmas.
The city was knee-deep in snow. It was all anyone could talk about. Aside from whatever Superman was doing – saving children from ice-skating on a deep lake, helping a family of squirrels find suitable hibernation.
It was three days before Christmas and Perry had assigned you and Clark to cover the Mayor’s speech for the day. They were meant to be discussing what they would be doing to help those who couldn’t spend seven hundred dollars at Costco to bulk-buy for the winter, when the streets would be cleared of snow to make it safe to walk, and anything else that needed aid.
“It’s freezing. How are you not shivering?” You asked, clapping your double gloved hands to try and get some feeling back into them again. “We’ve been standing out here for ages.”
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Clark pointed out. “The Mayor should be out soon.”
You scoffed. “They’re probably still inside, keeping warm.”
“Y/n.”
“What?” You rolled your eyes. “I get grouchy when I’m too cold.”
Clark playfully rolled his eyes, pulling his hands from his pockets. “Give me your hand.”
“I’m not holding your hand.”
“Yes or no: can you, currently, feel your fingers?”
You paused for a moment, before sighing in defeat. Pulling your gloves off your hand, you held it out to Clark who clasped it in his own.
“How are you so warm?”
Clark shrugged. “I run hot.”
You sighed with a grumble. “Lucky bastard.”
Clark just laughed, pulling you closer to him. Even in his winter clothes, he was almost like a furnace.
Thankfully, the Mayor finally made their appearance and started their talk. You were half-way through taking notes when you felt Clark’s thumb rub absentmindedly over your knuckles as he kept his hand, and your own, inside his coat pocket.
It was a split second thought. Your brain forgot where you were and who you were with. The Mayor’s voice muffled into the background as you looked up.
Where your brain expected Superman to be, you saw Clark.
Clark!
You did a double take.
“Everything okay?” Clark asked you, quietly.
Taking a breath, you nodded. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”
Looking down at your notepad, you pretended to read over your notes as a smile started to spread across your face.
Over the next hour and a half, you went through a wave of different emotions. The car ride to your lunch stop, you’d been quiet. Pretending to listen to the Christmas music floating out of the radio, your mind raced over everything.
You had opened up to Superman before you had opened up to Clark. Superman had talked to you about work. You were co-workers. He read your article. He knew your friends. He’d lied to you. But he also told you his truths.
He was your friend.
Superman was Clark.
Clark was Superman.
“What?” Clark asked you as he picked at his fries.
You’d been sitting across him in the booth for ten minutes, unable to take your eyes off him.
You had grounds to be mad at him. But…you weren’t. Instead, you were pleased. Grateful. Happy.
“What? You keep staring at me. Do I have something on my face?”
You shook your head. “No. Sorry, no.” You smiled as you shifted in your seat, folding your arms on the table. “It’s…it’s nothing. Uh, anyway, are you heading home for Christmas?”
Clark nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna drive down on Christmas Eve. What about you?”
“Molly and the girls have invited me for Christmas at their new place.”
Clark smiled. “How are they liking the suburbs?”
You nodded. “They’re really enjoying it. Molly had joined a local divorce book club.”
“Divorce book club?”
“They’re basically divorced and free women who can drink as much wine as they like for a Friday evening and compare fictional men to their shitty ex-husbands.”
“Sounds fun.”
You laughed. “She seems to be enjoying it. Iris is living next door to her new best friend, and Jane has been volunteering at the library. She wants to start a book club of her own.”
Clark smiled. “They sound like they’re thriving.”
“They definitely are.”
It wasn’t long before your article was being written and sent into Perry for editing. And, by the time you were done, and had started to finish off the last of your Christmas wrapping, you heard a gentle tapping coming from your window.
If you hadn’t figured it out earlier, seeing Clark Kent crouching on your fire escape, wiping the snow from his glasses – that would have done it.
“Clark?”
“Hey,” he chuckled, nervously. “I tried your buzzer but it wasn’t working. Pretty sure it’s frozen. I saw the light on so I thought-”
“You’d climb up eighty feet of icy fire-escape steps?”
“I’ve got sensible shoes on.”
You let out a laugh and stepped back from your window. “Well, come in then. Before you fall.”
“Thanks.”
“Why are you here, exactly?”
“Uh, well, I wanted to give you this.” From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s– just read it.”
“Okay.” Opening up the letter, you unfurled the three-way fold and read it. “Oh, my god. Is this real?”
Clark was almost beaming. “Congratulations!”
You had been nominated for a journalism award for your article that reported on the misdeeds of a local laboratory. Perry had made you front page news for a week. You’d celebrated by having a newly stocked Pumpkin Spice Latte, at the time.
Beaming, you hugged Clark in excitement. “This is insane!”
“Well, you earned it, Y/n.”
“Can you stay for a while? I’ll make us some drinks. How did you know?”
“Perry got a call,” he told you as you stepped back. “He told me and asked me to bring this to you before tomorrow.”
“Hot cocoa?”
“Sounds great. You’re still wrapping?”
“Oh, yeah.” You poured some milk into a pan on the stove to heat it up. “We’ve been so busy, I kinda lagged behind.”
“Want some help?”
You popped your head around the edge of your kitchen door. “How well do you wrap presents?”
“I’ve not won any awards or anything, but Ma always has me help her.”
You hummed and nodded. “Fair enough. Just, uh, I should have labelled the piles.”
Clark nodded, calling back to you. “You have.”
A few minutes later, you came through with two mugs of hot cocoa with the toppings.
“Cheers.”
“To your nomination.”
You smiled. “To my nomination.”
Clark helped you finish wrapping the presents you had bought, whilst you re-watched (but mostly talked through) It’s A Wonderful Life.
Long after the movie had finished, and all the presents were wrapped, you and Clark were in stitches with laughter.
Trying to breathe through your stitch, you couldn’t look at Clark without laughing.
“Oh, no, no, no. Stop. I can’t breathe.”
Both of you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Clark nodded. “Believe it. It haunts me enough at 3 am.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Collapsing back against the sofa, the laughter started to settle and it was just you and Clark, left alone in your living room, with whatever hallmark christmas tunes were floating around the room.
“You’re staring again,” Clark said after a few minutes. “Got something you’d like to share?”
“No.” You replied, a coy look in your eyes.
“Really?” Clark sat up, and you copied him. “Because you’ve got that look in your eye.”
“What look?”
“That one. That one that says I know something you don’t.”
You shrugged, acting innocent. “Hmm, who knows? Maybe I do? Maybe I don’t.”
Clark’s gaze narrowed at you. “Spill.”
You shook your head. “Nu-uh.”
“Oh, come on! I shared my 3 am nightmare.”
You smiled. “But mine isn’t a nightmare.”
“Y/n.”
You grinned, leaning closer as he had done. “Clark.”
Clark sighed, “You’re a tough case to crack.”
You nodded, proudly. “That I am, Kent. That I am.”
He glared a little longer, hoping it might work. “What secret are you hiding?”
“What secret are you hiding?” You countered. “Often it’s the guilty who see guilt in others.”
“And what am I meant to be guilty of?”
You hummed. “Secretly being a really good Christmas wrapper. If I’d known you were this good, I would have found some way to guilt trip you into doing the rest.”
“Well, if it helps, I would have helped if you’d just asked.”
“That does seem like you. You’re very helpful, Clark.”
“Thank you.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know.”
Clark swallowed. “Really?”
You hummed with a nod. “Someone you know, too. Really well.”
Clark’s head tilted. “Who are we talking about?”
“I don’t know. You looked in the mirror lately? He might be closer than we think.”
You watched as Clark’s eyes flicked over your own and the penny finally dropped.
“Y/n.”
You smiled, gently. “I haven’t told anyone, Clark. And I don’t plan on doing so.”
“I’m not-” Clark was about to deny it, but you just talked over him.
“Wanna know when I figured it out? It was earlier, at the Mayor’s speech. You were holding my hand and, for a split second, I forgot where I was. I thought it was you. And it was. It just wasn’t the you I was expecting.”
Clark’s shoulders dropped and he leaned back against your sofa, feeling on edge. So, you shuffled closer, laying a hand on his arm. “Clark?”
He lowered the hand from his face and looked at you, a little hopeful, a little defeated.
“You have my word. No-one will hear it from me. Ever. Unless you told me otherwise.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “Really.”
“And you’re not mad?”
You shook your head. “No. Believe me, I was surprised, too. But, no. I’m not mad. Rather, I’m glad it’s you.”
Clark sat up. “You are?”
You nodded, a light smile on your face once again. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet. “I am.”
Gently, Clark took your hand in his, his thumbs once again running back and forth over your knuckles.
“Does anyone else know?”
He shook his head. “No. Not yet. Ma and Pa know, obviously. But…if you mean work…no.”
You highly doubted that was completely true. Everyone had their own guesses as to the real identity of Superman. But you believed him.
“I’m guessing you’ve got a lot of questions-”
You held onto his hand, firmly. “They can wait. Tell me whenever you want.”
“Ask me, and I’ll tell you.” Clark said, his focus on you. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
“Like…right now?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Oh, okay. Uhh, okay. Let me think.”
You looked away for a second. You had fully meant it when you said your questions could wait. But being told you could ask. Now. Suddenly, every question you had ever had (and not even for Superman) had disappeared from your brain.
“Oh, okay.” You turned back to him. “When you’re late to work, is that on purpose?”
Clark laughed a little. “All the questions you could ask?”
“I wanna know! Is it a tactic or do you just have poor time management?”
Clark leaned back into your sofa, his gaze softly focusing on you whilst he kept your hand in his. “I wish I could say it’s the former, but some mornings I just press my snooze button one too many times.”
“Does caffeine have any effect on you?”
“No. But, I like the taste.”
“Have you ever been sick? Like, when you were a kid? Were your…abilities less powerful then?”
“Nope,” Clark shook his head. “It took me a while to learn how to fly but in terms of being sick, no.”
“Not once? Not even after being exposed to kryptonite?”
Clark shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed.”
You asked Clark every random, and not so random, question you could think of. Before you knew it, the conversation had leaned away from Superman and had delved into Clark’s childhood.
Despite his abilities, he was still the ‘nerdy’ kid the popular ones picked on. Whenever he was on the farm, he usually used his abilities to help his Pa paint the barn or fix the roof.
On the whole, he lived a pretty normal life.
“I should go, it’s getting late.”
“You sure? You can take the spare room. Saves you driving back to your apartment in the snow.”
Clark looked out your window. The snow in the city had practically doubled in the space of a couple hours.
“Well…”
With your blanket trailing behind you like its own tired version of the dramatic Disney cape sweep, you headed towards your spare bedroom. “You can stay. Pretty sure I’ve got some pjs that should fit you.”
Clark did a double take back to you. “You do?”
Clark appeared in your doorway as you rummaged through your linen closet. “Yeah. I placed an order for pajamas online. They ended up sending the wrong package but they said just to keep the package.”
“Didn’t you want a refund?”
“Oh, they gave me the refund. Yeah- oh, here they are.” Holding them up, you judged them against Clark’s frame. “They should fit.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. There’s spare toothpaste, brush, washing stuff – all in the cupboard under the sink. Use what you want.”
A few minutes later, as you had finished with your shortened night routine since you were seconds from falling asleep whilst standing, you said goodnight to Clark.
Clark replied the same back, and as he finally laid down in bed, smiling as he thought back on the whole day whilst being surrounded by the smell of your laundry detergent. He ignored the fact he could have easily flown home.
It was still dark when you woke up.
You would have stayed in bed, huddled in the warmth of your bed, if you hadn’t been intrigued by the smell of fresh breakfast coming from your kitchen.
Clark was standing in your kitchen, in a world of his own, when he turned to see you standing in the doorway. Huddled in a thick blanket, your hair loose, one word flashed across his mind.
Beautiful.
“Are you making breakfast?”
Clark shrugged, a quiet smile on his face as you shuffled inside and planted yourself at your table.
“Thought it was the least I could do since you let me stay.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after seven,” Clark said, reading the clock on your kitchen window cill.
“What’s the snow like?” You asked in a yawn.
Nodding over to the window near your fire escape, Clark said, “Take a look for yourself.”
“Oh.”
Against the window, the snow had piled up. If you were to open your window, your apartment floor would end up covered, too.
Looking around your kitchen, you spotted your radio on the side. As the bacon started to sizzle in the pan, you stood from the kitchen chair and reached for it.
The voice of the radio crackled through your kitchen as they gave out the reports. Most roads were closed, everyone was being advised to stay indoors, more snow was to come…
“I’ll do a sweep,” Clark said. “Make sure nobody’s stuck.”
You nodded. “I’ll call Molly and make sure she’s okay with the girls. Think you’ll still make it home?”
Clark shook his head, turning off the stove. “Not if people need me here.”
As Clark got the plates and cutlery ready, you pressed start on your percolator to start coffee.
Suddenly, the ringing of your telephone rattled through your apartment.
“You have a landline?”
Dropping the blanket off your shoulders, you rushed over to the beam of your doorway between the kitchen and the rest of your apartment. “It’s mostly for emergencies.”
Lifting the receiver, you placed it against your ear. “Hello?”
It was Molly. “Hey, happy Christmas Eve.”
“Is everything okay?”
Clark leaned against the other side of the phone, his bicep braced against the beam.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to let you know that our wifi has cut out. The entire block is the same way. The company- they’re meant to be coming out to fix it but we don’t know when. I heard the city’s blocked.”
You nodded, despite the fact she couldn’t see you. “Yeah. We’re basically snowed in here.”
“We?”
You stalled and Clark just smirked but looked away. “Uhh. Yeah. Uh, me and Clark.”
“Clark’s there?” Molly sounded hopeful.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he is. I didn’t think it was safe for him to drive back last night so I asked him to stay.”
“Well.” You could hear the smile in Molly’s voice. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“Molly.”
“The girls aren’t awake yet. I’ll let them call you later? You know, when you’re not….busy.”
Molly was trying to hold back her suggestive laughter.
Trying to remain cool and normal, despite the fact pajama-clad Clark Kent, with slightly messy hair and glasses, was leaning against the doorframe barely four inches from you, you tried to keep the conversation on track.
“Keep me updated, yeah?”
“Course,” Molly said. “If it keeps snowing, maybe we can push Christmas Day?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll let you go. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Bye, Molly.” You said in a panic before quickly hanging up the phone.
Clark looked at you, an amused expression on his face. “Everything okay?”
You nodded. “Everything’s fine. Breakfast?”
You heard Clark chuckle behind you, but he moved to plate up breakfast as you poured the coffee.
Throughout the day, as Clark zipped around the city to help those who needed it, you checked on your neighbours. Some had braved the storm to pick up their shopping, others were hunkering down with a film and hot chocolate.
By the time you were back inside your apartment, showered and dressed in pajamas once again, Clark knocked on your front door.
“Did you bring all the snow in the city with you?” You asked, dusting him off as he stepped inside. “Let me get you a towel.”
Heading towards your dryer, you pulled out a towel and passed it to him as you took the coat from his hands and lifted it over the hook beside your door.
“It’s not just the city,” he told you. “It’s basically the entire state. Mr Terrific, and the others, are helping where they can. But it’s getting dangerous, even for me. Clouds are thick, so is the snow.”
You nodded. “Go and take a shower,” you said. “I know you don’t get ill but, still. Any chance you saw where the storm will break?”
“It looks like we’ve got it for a while. Maybe by New Years, it’ll be clear enough to safely go out. But, until then?”
You swore under your breath. “Tell me you brought some stuff with you? Even Jimmy is staying with Lois.”
“Out in the hall!” Clark called from your bathroom.
“Thank god,” you sighed under your breath. Opening the door, you found a navy blue dufflebag, decorated in old patches.
Smallville High, Uni of Metropolis, Kent’s Dairy Farm – they were all used to cover up holes or tears in the fabric.
Leaving his bag in your spare room, you made sure the drawers were clear of crap and there were fresh towels.
You knocked twice on the bathroom door. “I’m not coming in,” you called out. “Just gonna leave the towels on the sink.”
“Okay!”
Cracking the door open just enough, you tossed the folded towels inside before closing the door once more.
Halfway through cooking dinner, you turned down the hallway towards your bedrooms and bathroom. You hadn’t been expecting Clark – naked Clark – to be stepping out of the bathroom at the same time.
But, when you did, you turned back quickly.
One saving grace was the fact he had a towel wrapped around his waist, but that didn’t stop you from seeing anything else. Not that you were complaining at seeing it.
But you were freaking out.
Holy crap.
Practically saved by the bell, your phone started ringing.
“H-hello?”
“Not interrupting, am I?”
You turned away from where you were staring down your hallway. “N-no.”
“Y/n.”
Clearing your throat, you shook your head in order to try and clear the mental picture. “I’m fine.”
You could already picture Molly’s face on the other end of the telephone. A coy smile, her eyes silently curious and wanting to know every detail.
“Are you?”
You chuckled. “I’m fine. Seriously, Mol. What’s up?”
“The girls wanted to speak to you.”
Bless your goddaughters for providing an adequate distraction from the 6’4, steaming hot, wet, seriously good looking…god.
But even that didn’t last very long, because five minutes into Iris’ retelling of her snowman competition, Clark appeared again.
“Washing machine?” He mouthed.
You pointed down the hallway towards the hidden pantry at the back of your kitchen.
His glasses were folded and laying on the kitchen table, meanwhile he stood in your laundry room, unloading the current washing (that you were yet to move) into the empty dryer. After pressing start, he loaded his own washing with detergent and softener before choosing the right setting and pressing start.
His damp hair was starting to curl and you were…staring.
“Y/n!”
“S-sorry, honey. Say that again.”
“Mom says we can do Christmas after Christmas.”
You smiled, “Yeah. She told me. Isn’t it great? You know, Santa’s got a lot of presents to deliver tonight and with this storm, well, you gotta be in bed early for your mom, right?”
“I know. Do you think he’ll see our house, though?”
“Well, luckily for us, Santa has been doing his job a lot longer than the rest of us. I’m sure he and his reindeer know what they’re doing.”
“Rudolph can guide him with her nose!”
You smiled, again. “Exactly right.”
In the background, you could hear Molly hurrying Iris up for her bath. They all said goodbye to you quickly before the receiver went dead.
“Molly and the girls?” Clark asked.
“Yeah. They’re all okay. I was just about to make some dinner.”
“Want some help?”
“Sure.”
It was one of the first times in your life you didn’t want to kick someone out of the kitchen. Clark knew what he was doing and didn’t need constant instructions – even if it was just a simple shrimp-pasta dish.
As you sat together, eating dinner, he caught you up on things happening around the city and asked you about the others in the building. By the time the dishes were cleaned and put away, you and Clark collapsed onto the sofa to watch a movie.
“You called your folks yet?”
Clark nodded. “I called them before I came here. They’ve got this storm, too. Thankfully, it’s not as deep.”
“They know you’re staying with me?”
Clark chuckled. “Yes. So, if you kill me in my sleep, they know who suspect number one is.”
You laughed, putting your feet up. “Oh, please. Wouldn’t want to take the top spot from Luthor.”
“You can come a close second.”
You nodded, “I’ll take it.”
“So, what are we watching?”
You sighed, sinking further into your sofa. “You pick. I think I’ve watched every film twice by now.”
Eventually, Clark found one and somewhere between the baritone voice of Bing Crosby singing White Christmas and Count Your Blessings you felt yourself drift off to sleep.
You just didn’t realise it was on Clark.
Over the next few days, you and Clark celebrated Christmas together. You ate, you drank, you reminisced. With the wifi still down, the girls called you three times a day. You and Clark laughed as you heard Iris ask her mom if “this is what it was like living in the olden days”.
It was New Year’s Eve by the time enough snow had cleared to ensure Clark could go home. Neither of you spoke about the fact that he could have left two days earlier. But, when you met him on the doorstep of your apartment building, dressed for a joint Christmas-Quiet New Years Celebration dinner at Molly’s, he did seem happy he got to see you again.
“You look…wow.”
“Never thought Clark Kent would be lost for words,” you teased, taking his outstretched hand.
After Molly had triple confirmed Clark could also be coming, per her (and the girls) invite, Clark managed to finally get you to agree to drive you.
“Well, he is. I am.” Clark panicked for a moment. “I am lost for words.”
You chuckled, stepping closer to him in order to fix his tie.
“Thank you.”
“Shall we go?”
Opening your door, Clark helped you slip into the passenger seat before he securely closed your door and got into the driver’s seat. The drive was a little under an hour, and by the time Clark was pulling up outside of Molly’s, you could see the girls dancing around the Christmas tree, screaming some form of lyrics.
“Ready?” You asked Clark, but he just beamed back at you.
“Of course.”
Everything was going…as chaotically smooth as it could. The girls pestered Clark with questions, all of which he answered. Wrapping paper was everywhere. At one point, Clark reached up, gently, to pull a small stripe of green and white wrapping from your hair.
The action didn’t go unnoticed by Molly, or Jane.
Dinner was delicious, Clark helped Molly with the clean up whilst you kept the girls – mostly Iris – occupied outside in the snow.
“So,” Molly started as she dried a plate Clark handed her. “How long have you had feelings for my girl?”
Clark nearly dropped the plate he was washing. “I-I’m sorry?”
Molly just moved, casually, turning herself to lean her back against the counter. “Clark. I might be distracted with two girls invoking chaos around this place 24/7, but I’m not blind.”
Clark admitted defeat pretty quickly. “What gave it away?”
Molly smiled to herself. “The way you act with her. Y/n’s convinced you’re like that with everyone, which I can believe. But…I know the difference. The way you look at her – like she is your entire galaxy, right in front of your eyes.”
Clark’s gaze drifted out of the window and into the backyard where you, Jane and Iris were building a snowman family.
“She looks at you the same way, you know.” Molly pointed out.
Clark shook his head, averting his gaze bashfully. “We’re- we’re just friends.”
“I know,” Molly nodded, placing a fist on his hip. “But you could be more. Just saying…you do her good.”
Clark looked at Molly with a curious gaze. So, Molly explained.
“Y/n…she’s been through a lot.”
“You all have.”
Molly nodded. “But I saw mine coming. She didn’t. I don’t like talking about him, but that…asshole.” Molly struggled to find a nicer word. “He blindsided her. Pulled the rug, right from under her. In the later months, I didn’t see Y/n be..Y/n. Not like she was in the beginning. She trusted his judgement and he tried to make her tougher. Y/n was already tough, but never in the wrong way. She still had emotions. Empathy. She was never…cold. Or ruthless.”
Molly sighed. “Her entire world was knocked off its axis. I helped where I could but…she had herself convinced that she had to fix it. Alone. That she couldn’t trust anyone else. But…after she met you….”
Molly smiled at Clark. “I know she fought with you, probably drove you crazy, but I saw her spark starting to come back. First the fire in her belly, to become a great reporter. Then…she started smiling again. She panicked less. Trusted her judgement more. You gave her a safe space, Clark. And as her closest friend, thank you.”
Molly laid a hand over her heart as she spoke. “Thank you for helping bring back the girl I knew.”
Clark smiled, unsure of what to do. So, he nodded, gently.
“I don’t know the kind of effect she’s had on your life, but from the way you look at her, I’m gonna guess it was a good one.”
Clark nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, it was.”
“Then, I guess what I’m trying to say is…it could be better. Don’t be afraid. Y/n feels the same way, even if she doesn’t know it yet. It might take her a while to accept it, if she hasn’t already. Just…don’t be afraid.”
Molly’s words settled into Clark’s bones the same way yours had done all those months ago. A little kindness…and a safe space.
Suddenly, a snow ball hit the window.
“Mommy! Mr Kent! Come on!” Iris yelled before she ran away.
Outside, as a lighter snow started to fall, a snowball fight broke out. You and Iris, against Jane and Clark. Once Molly had stepped outside, all sides got switched.
Iris left you for her mom, Jane joined you – eventually, it was everyone for themselves.
You had gotten a couple points for hitting Clark, but very quickly realised his aim was a lot better. Especially when, after tag-teaming with Iris, he snuck up on your and took you down into a pile of snow.
Laughter broke out from everyone. It was daughters versus mom on the other side of the garden whilst you tried to escape Clark’s snow covered grip.
But, just as you and Clark stalled for a moment, breathless in each other's arms. Clark’s fingers reached up and brushed some snow from your face, whilst your own fingertips gently pressed into his chest, wrapping the wool of his jumper to pull him a little closer…
You both got hit with three snowballs.
“Hey!”
You and Clark scrambled to your feet in laughter, gathering snow to defend your position.
It was just before midnight when Iris and Jane fell asleep on the sofa, bone-tired from the snowball fight and dancing around the house to music.
Molly woke Jane up long enough to get her up to bed, meanwhile Clark carried Iris to bed, your hand gently resting between his shoulder blades as you showed him the way to her room.
“Moll, we’ll get out of your hair,” you told her. “We’ve gotta be back at work tomorrow.”
Molly nodded, secretly thankful that she got a sort-of early night. But, she did send you and Clark home with left-overs.
“See you guys next year,” she called out from the front door.
You chuckled, nearly slipping in the snow as you turned on your heels to see her and wave goodbye. Clark managed to catch you.
“Night, Mol!”
“Take care of her, Clark.”
“I will! And thank you.”
As Molly closed the front door behind her, you and Clark stood beside his car, leaving the left overs on the roof, as he fished for the keys.
In the distance, fireworks started to go off in the distance. So, pulling your phone out of your pocket, you flashed your lock screen (a picture of the girls at the Christmas Tree Farm) to show him the time.
“It’s midnight. Happy New Year, Clark.”
“Happy New Year, Y/n.”
You didn’t kiss Clark. You wanted to, but you didn’t.
Clark didn’t kiss you. He wanted to, but he didn’t.
But you both thought about the entire drive home.
As he opened your passenger door. As he started the engine of the car, letting the front window defrost. At the red light, just before entering the city. At every red light after that. When Clark finally pulled up outside your apartment. When you told him he didn’t have to walk you up. When he got out of the car anyway.
And when you finally got to your door.
“I guess this is good-”
You cut Clark off, reaching up and putting a hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. He took no time in kissing you back, or having you leaning against the beam of your front door.
“We should have done that sooner,” Clark said, breathlessly.
“I agree.”
With his hands resting gently on either side of your face, he pulled you in closer and kissed you again.
