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Clark Kent rescues kittens out of trees. (ex_savior698) wrote in wariscoming,

Clark, too, had been looking for an excuse to stick around the office. Not for himself, but for his editor and for his co-workers, who would undoubtedly question as to why the reporter had chosen to lurk around his desk long after he had finished his own work. He had no articles left to write. No stories to edit. There was no reason for him to be at work at all and yet, an hour and a half post the end of his designated shift, Clark Kent was still sitting at his desk. For the most part, he tried to at least pretend that he was doing something. He tapped away at his keyboard, shifted around to a few pages on the web that seemed like they might have had something or another to do with the news, and occasionally popped off to the printer. None of those things were really accomplishing much of anything and, as far as Clark could tell, at least a handful of people working in the area around them could tell that Clark was holding back for a very specific reason.

In spite of his attempts at trying to blend, it probably hadn't been very difficult for anyone to figure out why Clark was still there. Between all the shuffling back and forth to the printer and unimportant activity at his desk, Clark had spent most of his time peeking over and around his computer to look at the woman sitting opposite him. It was a habit that he had grown attached to for the duration of his work day, one that had only increased more and more as the day passed on. By the time he had finished all of his work, which was surprising considering the real point of his attention, Clark had lost count of how often he found himself spying on Lois from where he sat. It was hard not to.

Chloe was dead. Clark may not have known Chloe as well as his alternate self had, but he did know that Chloe and Lois had been very close. Losing Chloe like this, so unexpectedly and so very suddenly...

He was worried. It was one thing to lose someone and delve into the mourning process, but it was another to go at everything like this. Instead of taking some time to herself, Lois had turned right around and buried herself into piles of articles and paperwork. The night before, when Lois had shut him down when he'd asked after her, Clark had thought that maybe she just needed some time and space to process what had happened. If she wanted to pretend she was working, then fine. He'd let her. But unfortunately, as Clark found out as soon as he stepped into the paper that morning, Lois wasn't pretending. She was actually doing it. How she had managed to muster up the strength to bring herself all the way out to the office and dig into reporting elbow deep hours after Chloe had died, Clark didn't know. What he did know was that what she was doing was far from healthy. She was ignoring the problem. Shutting down her feelings, pretending that nothing was wrong...

It wasn't right. And as Clark watched herself work, hour on top of hour without even the tiniest of breaks, he began to understand that Lois wasn't going to be able to cope with this on her own. Not like this. Not here. She had to go somewhere where there weren't any distractions. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far away, where she couldn't get her hands on the tiniest bit of work if she tried.

So Clark waited for the right opportunity. And when one presented itself, he slid out of his chair and followed Lois over to the coffee area. Rather than speaking to her right away, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall beside the refreshment table. He watched her carefully for a moment, then shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "Lois, what are you doing here?"