Title: What Do You Say, Old Friend
Characters: Eliot Spencer/Lois Lane
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Lois wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing in Boston.
Author’s Note: Merry Christmas nas2439! They asked me for Eliot/Lois fic and I did my best to deliver. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to the CW and TNT. I’m just borrowing, and I’ll put everything back where I found it.
Lois wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing in Boston.
She knew that he was going to have no real reason to help her. This was a Hail Mary play if there ever was one, but she needed to at least take the chance. The small little out of the way bar that she had been directed to was just up Eliot’s alley, and as she made her way inside, she found that he wasn’t all that hard to spot. It had been almost ten years, but she had to hope that some parts of the past had been buried far enough for him to help.
He was sitting at the bar nursing a beer, but he looked up the second the door opened. He always looked up when the door opened, and when his eyes met hers, she wasn’t sure if he froze, or if he just didn’t know what to say. Due to the fact that Lois couldn’t keep her mouth shut, she felt it was only fair that she made the first move.
She wove her way through the bar, coming to a stop next to him, and giving him a half-smile as she tried not to betray how nervous she was. “Hey there, soldier,” she said softly. “Buy a girl a drink.”
“Lois,” he said slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” she said, chickening out before she could even get started. “I figured we could have a drink, catch up—just like old times.”
“Last I checked you never wanted to see me again.”
“I was an eighteen year-old girl and I was pissed. You really gonna take that to heart?”
“And last I checked you were also a headline reporter for the Daily Planet.”
She straightened at that, raising an eyebrow as she smirked. “You’ve been checking up on me, Spencer?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not the point, Lane.”
“Then what is the point?”
“The point is I think that if you wanted to talk to me, you would have picked up phone and called. But instead, you took time off work, flew to Boston, and tracked me to a local bar. And don’t even say that you didn’t think I would have answered the phone. You know I would have.” He paused, turning to face her more. “What’s going on, Lois?”
She sighed, taking a deep breath and looking down at her fingers again. “I need your help.” He didn’t say a word—words were never something he had been all that big on—simply raised an eyebrow and waited for her to finish. “I think someone’s trying to kill me.”
His face hardened, just slightly. “Let’s get that drink.”
Two beers, two days and a lot of time later, the team had a lock on who was trying to kill Lois, but they hadn’t managed to track them down yet. Apparently, a branch of Luthor Corp had caught wind of the fact that she was getting ready to launch the story of the century regarding their backroom and inhumane tests with meteor rock, and decided to try and take her out before she could do it. They had answers, but they didn’t have the guy, which is why Eliot was camped out with her in her hotel room—which, by the way, couldn’t have less windows if they put her in a cinderblock cell—waiting for a sign from the rest of the team that the coast was clear.
On the bright side, this meant Eliot got to cook. And man, could Eliot cook.
“You know, of all the things I missed about you,” Lois said with a sigh as she chewed through her meal, before gesturing to her plate with her fork. “This? Definitely in the top ten.”
He chuckled softly as he finished cleaning off the stove, before glancing over at her. “There’s enough for a top ten list?”
“Everything has enough for a top ten list. It’s just a matter of thinking about it.”
“We were together for … ”
“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I think too much. But I can’t really help it.” She looked up at him. “And you already knew that.”
He smirked. “It wasn’t that long, but I got to know you pretty well.”
“Is there anything you don’t pick up in a week?” she sighed, bringing her plate back into the kitchen and placing it beside him on the sink. “New and improved fighting techniques, new recipes, people—it’s like there’s nothing you can’t do.”
He didn’t answer until he was finished washing the dishes. Normally she would be impatient, but she knew Eliot. He would get there, he just needed to find the words. “Took me a while to figure out you.”
“Please,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m not that complicated. Half the time what I’m thinking comes right out my mouth anyway.”
“That isn’t want makes you hard to figure out, Lane,” he replied softly, before moving past her and back into the main area of the room.
She huffed a bit, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him. “I didn’t miss the cryptic though. That I learned to live without.”
He turned to look at her as he went to sit down on the couch. “What do you want me to say? That I regretted choosing what I did?”
“No,” she sighed, shaking her head as she slowly made her way across the room. Her hands idled on the different surfaces as she went, trying to buy herself a little time somehow. “Because I know you don’t. I want to know why you’re tracking me.”
“You’re on the front page of one of the biggest newspapers in the country.”
“And you and I both know that the media is one of your great big conspiracy theories,” she sighed as she finally sat down next to him on the couch. “So you wouldn’t pick up a mainstream newspaper unless you were looking for something.”
He smirked as he turned to face her more. “I could always trust you to get to the truth. It was one of the things I liked about you.”
“That, and I was the daughter of a general, so being on his good side meant kissing my ass.”
He chuckled. “You and I both know that that got me nowhere.”
“It got you further than you think. You kept me out of trouble.” She paused for a moment, before reaching for one of his hands. “You’re still keeping me out of trouble.”
He turned and gave her hand a small squeeze, before pushing up from the couch. “It’s getting late. You should get some sleep.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still doing that whole ninety minutes of sleep thing.”
He shrugged, offering her his hand. “It works for me.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, letting him lead the way. “I guess it does.”