Illusions | Superman

Between the fancy dresses, soft music, and sparkling glasses of champagne, the banquet hall had an air of sophistication and beauty. The entire scene was something straight out of the romance novels Lois would never admit to reading. Only one thing was missing — she wasn’t here with some dashing prince or business tycoon ready to carry her away to his estate.

No, she was here with her investigative partner, Clark Kent. And he looked about as comfortable in this setting as one could expect from a Kansas farmboy. Obviously Smallville didn’t have too many formal banquets.

They were here because they had a lead on some possibly shady business dealings from the man hosting this fundraiser, Morgan Kincaid. They’d been trying to dig up evidence on him for weeks, and this night was their best shot at getting close to him. The idea was to pose as a married couple from out of town — just another wealthy couple looking to get some good publicity by donating to a newsworthy charity such as Kincaid’s.

Of course, everyone in the newsroom had teased them mercilessly about their fancy “date night”. Lois took every opportunity to remind them — and Clark — that it was not a date; this was work and nothing else.

“What time is Kincaid supposed to give his speech?” Lois asked her partner, trying not to fidget impatiently. “That’s our best bet at getting into his office while he’s busy out here.”

Clark glanced at his watch. “Not for another hour.”

“Another hour?” Lois moaned. “I’m not going to survive this.”

“What’s the matter, not a party person?” Clark asked, flashing that teasing smile that both annoyed her and somehow always made her smile back against her will. He had an irritating habit of being simultaneously charming and a pain in her neck.

“We’re not here to party, Clark,” she shot back. “I’m here for one thing only: to get some dirt on Kincaid for our story.”

“And stop a man from embezzling millions of dollars away from a charity organization,” Clark reminded her, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. That, too.”

The truth was, Lois could actually imagine herself enjoying this evening, if the circumstances were different. She might not be a party person, but there was something about the music and the lights that made it easy for her to see herself out on that dance floor, in the arms of that Special Someone… a someone that she was probably never going to meet at this rate.

She scanned the room again, trying to get her mind back on the assignment. She wasn’t here to meet her future husband. There was a front page story hiding behind the door of Kincaid’s office, and she was going to get it no matter what.

Her gaze happened to land on one familiar looking man standing near the bar. It took a moment for recognition to set in, but Lois felt her breath catch when it did.

“Oh no.”

Clark glanced at her, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. “What?”

She tried as discreetly as possible to point in the direction of the man she’d spotted. “Robert Neil. He’s a reporter for the Herald. A ruthless reporter. More importantly, he knows me. Which means he’ll blow our cover as soon as he comes over to say hello. Or worse, he’ll figure out we’re onto a story and try to scoop us.”

“Okay, okay,” Clark said. “Calm down. We’ll think of something.”

She turned away from Robert’s direction, trying as discreetly as possible to keep her face hidden from him. “Now what?” she asked, tapping her foot. “I can’t leave until Kincaid gives his speech. And if I stick around here, Robert is going to recognize me.”

Before she had a chance to continue voicing her irritation, a hand suddenly grabbed hers and began dragging her gently through the crowd.

“Clark, what are you doing?”

He paused long enough to shoot her a soft smile. “Just trust me, Lois.”

They were halfway across the dancefloor before she realized what his brilliant idea was. Once they were deep within the crowd of happily dancing couples, Clark turned and grabbed her other hand, moving them slowly in time to the music.

“This was your plan?” she muttered, trying to match his steps. “We go dancing?”

“You won’t stick out as much here,” Clark said. “Not as much as standing along the side, anyway. And the crowd is closer out here, so less visibility for your boyfriend to spot us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We worked together on a story a while back.”

Before she could continue, Lois misplaced a foot and almost went down. Clark quickly steadied her.

“You don’t do this much, do you?”

“What, goof off while we’re supposed to be working? No, not so much.”

He sighed and shifted the placement of his hands so he could better guide her through the steps. “We are working. And you aren’t going to blend in acting like you can’t stand being next to me. Our cover story is that we’re a couple, remember? Try to relax.”

“Clark, I guarantee half of the couples here aren’t as happily in love as they pretend to be. We’ll fit in just fine.”

Despite her words, Lois did try to relax a little. She’d never been much of a dancer, although secretly she’d always wanted to learn.

“Try not to look at your feet as much,” Clark suggested. “Focus on your partner and follow the music’s rhythm.”

She forced herself to look up from her feet. And she found herself suddenly staring into a pair of warm brown eyes. His eyes always looked soft and welcoming, but there was something about seeing them under this lighting that made them truly sparkle.

The music changed, shifting into a slower song. Clark shifted their stances and pace accordingly. For once, Lois didn’t challenge his lead. She quickly found herself falling into step with him, the pair moving smoothly over the polished floors.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know, for someone who’s always tripping over his own feet, you are a suspiciously good dancer.”

Clark laughed. “How is it you always end up insulting me, even when you’re trying to compliment me?”

Lois shrugged, draping her arms a little more comfortably over his shoulders while he moved his hands to her waist. “Who said I was trying to compliment you?”

He rolled his eyes, and pulled her a little closer, falling into the rhythm of the song.

There was something kind of nice about dancing under the twinkling lights with someone’s arms around her. It almost unsettled her how much nicer it was that that someone was Clark.

“Feeling more relaxed?”

She met his eyes again. For a moment, she almost imagined she saw something there — something that both excited and scared her. “Yeah,” she breathed, leaning a little more into his hold. “I think so.”

Her gaze landed on the silver bands on their fingers and she had a brief, fleeting thought that maybe it would be nice if this wasn’t all just an act.

Of course, she dismissed the idea a moment later. It was ridiculous. She and Clark were best friends and partners, nothing else. They weren’t a real couple.

And this was most definitely not a real date.

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