Category: Lois & Clark, gen
Summary: Lois spends New Year's Eve in a hotel with an unlikely companion.
For: fallon_ash, who only requested "something Lois/Clark-y or Lois/hot girl" in order to take the meme, but she's getting it ANYWAY. (Kinda.)
Set: Season 2.
This was in no way Lois Lane's idea of a good way to spend an evening.
Well, the hotel suite was okay, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. And, to be honest, despite it being heart-shaped and built-for-two (two qualities that Lois tended to dislike in any object), she had no real complains about the jacuzzi, either.
No, all of that would have been just fine if it weren't for the simple problem of having to share it.
Lois heaved a dramatic sigh, inadvertently blowing a few bubbles into the air.
"Must you keep doing that?"
Take the high road, Lois's inner voice warned, in a voice that sounded almost exactly like Clark's.
As usual, when it came to Assistant District Attorney Mayson Drake, Lois didn't listen. "What, are you prosecuting people for breathing these days?"
Mayson didn't miss a beat. "Depends on the people." Then, because the blonde killjoy just couldn't let things go, she added: "I really can't believe you."
Lois was having a hard time believing herself, right at the moment. She'd managed to avoid Clark's suspicions until he left for Smallville and some sort of all-important midwestern hillbilly New Years Eve tradition, and then she'd driven halfway to Gotham City on the lead she'd boosted from Mayson Drake's calendar. Mayson's informant, an out-of-favor exile of Intergang, had somehow sniffed out Lois's presence and kindly barred the door in his exit, leaving Lois trapped in some crazy person's abandoned bomb shelter. With an entirely livid Assistant DA. On New Year's Eve.
Fortunately for them, the crazy person who built the shelter hadn't been much of an engineer, and a few broken hinges set them free. However, it took three hours to break those hinges open. If she'd died in there, Lois wasn't sure if the cause of death would have been hypothermia or Mayson's incessant bitching.
"Turn the heat up," Mayson ordered. That was another annoying thing about Mayson – her need to boss everyone around.
"You do it," Lois retorted. She was beyond worrying about whether or not she sounded childish. "You're closer."
They were about equally far away from the panel on the wall, really, so it made perfect sense that neither of them actually moved.
Lois couldn't believe that she'd actually considered, for a minute, making a New Year's resolution to be nicer to this woman.
"It's my hotel room," Mayson argued.
"If it weren't for you, we wouldn't even be out here!"
"If it weren't for me!? That's funny, I don't recall putting a gun to your head and forcing you to steal my day planner."
Lois had half a mind to scream for Superman, just to get her out of here and back to Metropolis. She'd held off in the bunker because Mayson had made some childish comments about Lois not being able to get herself out of trouble, and because Lois had a bit of a bad feeling that Superman might take Mayson's side in the whole issue of theft-of-personal-property-out-of-Mayson's-p
Not that Mayson Drake deserved his support. She didn't even like Superman, and really, who didn't like Superman? Not that Superman seemed to care. Both Superman and Clark had pulled the "Mayson Drake isn't really so bad" card with her. Lois honestly couldn't see what it was about Mayson that seemed to tie men up in knots of stupidity. She supposed she was pretty, in a frumpy-hair sort of way. And she was all about defending the people against the criminal element, blah blah blah, but really.
She didn't like Superman.
No, it was for the best that Lois didn't take Clark's advice on her New Year's resolution. (His advice had been phrased a little more generally – "Maybe you should try to give people the benefit of the doubt next year?" – but Lois knew he was talking about Mayson. Clark, of course, had his resolutions planned out a week in advanced and already taped to his desk, something predictable and saintly like stopping global warming or giving his whole paycheck to charity every week.)
"He could've been planning to kill you, did you ever think of that? Taking off here by yourself, not telling us where you were going?" Lois was on a roll, and was not deterred by her companion's glare. "Not even telling Clark where you were going?"
Mayson shifted in the tub, managing to splash Lois a little when she moved her feet. Probably intentionally.
"It wasn't any of Clark's business. Besides, I haven't seen him all week."
Lois felt a little smug at the bruised tone of voice. That's right, she though, giving Clark a mental attaboy. Mayson might be all over him like a bad rash, but at least he wasn't giving in too willingly. Normally she'd want to scream if he walked away from a perfectly good lead source, this was a very blonde, somewhat attractive exception.
"So now I'm spending New Year's Eve in a hotel hot tub with you," the blonde exception continued.
Huh. Lois frowned. That was a little depressing for both of them, wasn't it?
And was that, possibly... sympathy she was feeling? Mayson had graciously allowed Lois to invite herself onto Mayson's hotel reservation, once it became apparent that the rooms were full, the roads were closing for snow, and they were both about thirty seconds from losing all their limbs to frostbite. She'd even agreed to allow Lois to draw lots for the jacuzzi, though they'd both been too cold to come up with a fair way of doing that and had just given in to the distasteful act of sharing. And, well, if Lois now had conclusive proof that Mayson wasn't totally unfortunate-looking – okay, nice, even – in the mismatched lingerie she was wearing as an improvised swimsuit, at least Clark wasn't here to see it.
Dammit, she was feeling sympathy. "Mini-bar champagne?" she suggested.
"That stuff costs a fortune."
Lois braved the cool air outside the hot tub to head for the fridge. "If you tell me what your informant promised to give you, I can comp it as a business expense."
Mayson rolled her eyes, but not in an unfriendly way.
"You know," Mayson said when Lois returned with two tiny bottles of champagne. "One of my New Year's resolutions was to be nicer to you."
Lois's jaw dropped open in annoyance before she could stop it. Sure, she wasn't actually planning to use that New Year's resolution, but she still wasn't too keen on Mayson having scooped it. "Did Clark tell you to do that?"
Mayson gave a wry frown. "No. But he does always tell me that you're actually a good person, and I should give you the benefit of the doubt."
"No kidding," Lois sighed under her breath. Clark couldn't even come up with something different to say to Mayson? Aloud, she said, to express her annoyance, "You know, I hate it when people have more than one resolution. Clark has eight of them. Why even do that? You're just going to break them all anyway, and then it's eight times the guilt. Really, just pick one good one."
Mayson winced, then covered it with a sip of champagne that was probably half the small bottle. "Yeah, well. This year, I have two."
Oh no, was she opening up to her? Okay, it had been a very long time since Lois had spent any opening-up time with female friends. Lucy, God love her, was a boy-juggling mess with an irritating habit of not paying her phone bill.
"So what's your other resolution?" A very, very long time.
"Stop mooning over men. I'd actually hoped to spend this New Year's Eve with him, you know? Hopeless."
"Yeah." That was a pretty good resolution, actually. "Clark's a good guy and all, but he can't focus to save his life."
Who even knew where Superman was. Maybe he was lonely on the holiday. Maybe he'd stopped by her apartment window to see her, and was disappointed to see she wasn't there.
Probably not, but it warmed her heart to think so.
"What about you?" Mayson asked. "Anything good for your one resolution?"
Lois sighed. Six ounces wasn't nearly enough champagne to open her up into full-on Superman-crush confession mode, but it was nearly midnight on New Year's Eve, and the closest she'd been to any naked human being in recent memory was being two feet away from Mayson in her underwear. "It'd be nice to find someone this year."
Mayson didn't get the hangdog look Lois expected her to. Instead, she just nodded. "We fall into that trap, don't we? Spending all our time on our careers, and then wondering why we can't keep up with our high-school classmates who all have families already?"
"Yes! Exactly." Agreeing with Mayson was less uncomfortable than she'd expected it to be.
"In theory, I only want the right man, who'll really appreciate my career and my accomplishments," Mayson continued, "but you know what it's like to work long hours. I'm not saying I'm looking for any warm body... but it would just be nice to have someone to talk to."
Crap. Now Lois was feeling sympathetic and self-pitying, and a bit guilty for never giving her the benefit of the doubt. She hated it when Clark was right.
She told herself she only said it to make Mayson feel better. "This is... not totally unpleasant, talking to you. Better than freezing to death."
"You know, I do like you, as a person. We could probably be good friends." Lois forgot that Mayson was a straight shooter. That sort of honesty always made Lois feel like a bit of a heel.
She hadn't quite figured out the least heelish way to say that actually, that sounded really nice, though she wasn't sure if she could live with the way Mayson fawned disgustingly over Clark, or the way she had no respect for the press or Superman, when Mayson interrupted her thought:
"But we'll always have jobs and men between us."
Jobs that got them locked in a bomb shelter for three hours, and men that were in Kansas or... God knew where. Anywhere on the planet was an option. What did Superman do for New Year's? Fly around seeing the fireworks in every country?
"I'm turning into a prune," Mayson announced. "It's all yours."
Lois surprised herself by grudgingly admitting to Mayson's back as she climbed out of the tub, "We could probably be friends."
Mayson smirked over her shoulder. "Or at least cordial?"
Yes. Coffee once a month, maybe, with no discussion of Clark, superheroes or leads the DA's office was keeping from her. Surely they could come up with something else to talk about?
In her first act of cordiality, Lois offered, "You can take the bed. Just give me some pillows for the fold-out."
Mayson looked a little annoyed. Possibly because it was her hotel room, but Lois still felt she should be applauded for her generosity. "Thanks."
"Does this mean I'm forgiven for borrowing your planner?"
Mayson shot her a glare, but it didn't get on Lois's nerves as much as it had earlier. "No."
Lois sighed and sunk deeper in the water, hoping to get just a little more of the freezing chill out of her veins before sleeping.
It was worth a try.