Author's Note 1: Hello, (very) long time since I posted anything. If you are someone who followed or regularly read my stuff, I apologize for the absence. The long story short is that a few years ago I was not in a great state mental health wise, and it took a few years for me to get back where I wanted to be. Now that things are going good, I have found that my desire to write has come back full force. I'll be doing some Smallville/Clois stuff (because they will always be my favourite!), but I am thinking about dabbling in other fandoms of mine as well!

Author's Note 2: Ah, season 8. A season that started off with so much potential and then just punched us straight in the face instead. Essentially this is my take on season 8 with a much more Clois-y twist. I'll be redoing most of the season 8 episodes my way. I've skipped the first 3-to get more into the really fun stuff. Anyway, I'm feeling a bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy!

She blamed it on the psycho-chick.

Well, why wouldn't she? After all, it was the psycho-chick who had been babbling on about the so-called 'bond' that existed between she and Clark, and how he was in some way attracted to her. It was the crazy redhead's fault for putting such ideas into their heads to begin with. If she hadn't, it never would have happened, not in a million years.

Lois huffed irritably into her hands

It was late when Lois had made her way through the Daily Planet basement and into the women's bathroom, her adrenaline still pumping from the crazed meteor bimbo who had flipped her freakin' car like it was nothing and then proceeded to take on an entire swat team only to disappear before her eyes. She wasn't sure why Clark's elevator buddy had suddenly vanished when she had seemed so dead-set on taking out who she had deemed 'the competition'. Honestly, Lois' mind was still wrestling with that whole 'being the competition' part as she rinsed some of the blood off her forehead.

"You may not know it yet, but there's a bond," the redhead had snarled as Lois had crawled out of the wreckage of her car. "I saw it on your face when you saw us together—you feel it too."

Lois gripped the side of the sink, studying her own face in the mirror. Sluttyanna wasn't the first person to mention the so-called bond between she and Clark, but her comments had struck a chord that Lois wasn't entirely comfortable with. She had always made it a point not to think of Clark in that way. When she'd first arrived in Smallville, she'd been all too aware of Chloe's feelings for him, and had quickly picked up on the tense drama that existed between him and Lana. Lots of girls had seemed head over heels for Clark over the years, but Lois had never been one of them. Sure, he was gorgeous, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had a dream or even a fantasy or two where he played the lead role. And yeah, those dreams had increased in frequency over the years, but for god's sake, she'd met the guy when he was naked—it was only natural, really. Not to mention that besides being utterly hot, he really was one of the sweetest guys she'd ever met, albeit a bit naive and sometimes infuriating. He was her best friend, someone she really cared about, but she'd never thought about him as more than that.

But she also couldn't deny the reaction she had had to seeing Clark getting hot and heavy with some sex-crazed psycho in the elevator. She hadn't felt the embarrassment of one friend stumbling on another's intimate moment. She hadn't felt the disgust of someone walking in on a brother-figure. She'd felt white hot jealousy, and an inexplicable sense of betrayal. It had hurt seeing him with someone else, and that raised a big red flag in her mind. She couldn't think like that, especially when it was extremely unlikely that Clark would feel the same way.

If she felt anything, that is. Which she didn't.

Although, she couldn't help but remember, psycho-chick had mentioned that Clark shouldn't have been able to pull away, and had only overcome the spike in hormones because of some attraction to her...

"Knock it off, Lane," she said aloud to her reflection. "Since when do you listen to homicidal meteor freaks, anyway?"

After checking herself for injuries once more—aside from the cut on her forehead and a couple of bruises, she was fine and had definitely seen worse days—she grabbed her coat, and made her way back into the empty bullpen, tossing her jacket onto her desk. Everyone had long since went home for the night, but she figured now was as good a time as any to type up a few paragraphs for her article before heading home, and she may as well start while the details were still fresh. She hadn't gotten much further than the opening line when she heard her name.

"Lois."

She turned to see Clark standing a few feet away, his expression equal parts concern and uncertainty.

"Clark," she said, proud of herself for sounding steady and not portraying any of the confusing emotions running rampant throughout her. "What are you doing back here?"

"I came back to talk to you and heard about what happened outside," he said. "Lois, are you okay?"

She tried not to focus too much on his genuine concern over her well being—anything outside their typical back and forth felt a little too close for comfort right now—and went straight for her old friend, witty banter.

"Why, because your girlfriend tried to kill me? I know I told you to look outside your wheelhouse, Smallville, but I didn't think you'd go from damsel-in-distress to full-on Fatal Attraction," she rolled her eyes. Her jab seemed to do the trick, and the concern turned into familiar frustration.

"She's not my girlfriend," he said, sounding exasperated. "I didn't even know her. She had some sort of control over me—"

"I bet she did," she replied, her words dripping in sarcasm.

"Lois, she was a—a meteor freak, remember? It was an overdose of hormones like all those other men. I couldn't control it. Why do you care so much, anyway?" he demanded, staring at her intently.

His words brought her up short. Right. Caring was sort of the opposite of what she was trying to portray. She stood up and grabbed a handful of papers off her desk.

"I don't! And you know what? I'm done with this conversation, I have an article to work on."

"Lois—"

"Clark, seriously. We really don't need to talk about this."

"Lois, you seemed upset, and I just-"

"For the last time," she yelled whirling on him to jab him in the chest, "I don't care what you do with your love life! Make out with any girl you want. Hell, go find elevator girl and pick back up where you started! Just leave me alone!"

She realized belatedly as she finished her tirade that they had seriously invaded each other's personal space for the second time that night. His breath, labored from yelling, was fanning her face and she could feel his chest brush against hers with every breath. His blue eyes were dilated and fixed on hers, and she saw his eyes dart down to her lips for a brief moment.

She wasn't sure who moved first, but suddenly their mouths were crashing together, one hand cupping the back of her neck while the other tugged her closer by the waist. Lois kissed him back with just as much fervor, her hands anchoring in his thick black hair as she nipped at his lower lip. She felt his tongue against the seam of her lips and granted him access, moaning as he explored her mouth. They parted only when air was absolutely necessary, but instead of pulling away as she half expected, Clark's mouth migrated to her neck, and she found herself being backed up against the copy machine.

Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered that she should stop, walk away now before things got any more complicated. Another part of her wondered if Clark was still suffering from the heightened endorphins and had somehow managed to pass the meteor power's effect on to her from his kiss, but when his mouth found hers again, she found she really couldn't care.

It was only when she bumped up against something else and heard the sounds of glass shattering that she pulled away in surprise, her eyes going to the broken remains of a coffee mug on the floor. Her gaze swept back up to find Clark staring back at her, looking equally stunned.

Oh my god. Lois felt her face become instantly hot. What had she done?

"I have to go," she blurted out. She was pretty sure that she saw Clark open his mouth to speak, but she was out of the room and into the elevator before he could speak. As the elevator doors shut she could see him staring at her with a confused look from across the room, still standing in the exact same spot she'd left him before he disappeared from view.

Holy shit.

She leaned back against the wall and pressed her hands to her eyes. What the hell happened back there? she thought to herself.

She wasn't exactly sure, but she blamed it on the psycho-chick.

Reviews are welcome (go easy on me, it's been a while)! Way more Clark in the next chapter, I promise!

Regarding updates: I'm fairly busy, but I'm hoping to update weekly :)