Well, THIS is a fine kettle of fish...

[http://users.livejournal.com/_loislane_/]

Lois Lane is not the most patient person in the world. This fact is known throughout Metropolis, the news media, and half of the globe. Her idea of packing is opening a suitcase and throwing in whatever she might need for a few days and then buying whatever she forgot once she gets there. Easy peasy.

This is different. This is six months or so of incarcera...hiding. This takes more thought. And the more thought she puts into it, the more she has to pack and unpack and repack, the more pissed she's getting. "How'm I supposed to pack clothes when we both know I won't fit into anything in a few more weeks? I'm already getting pudg--hey, can I take this Smallville High t-shirt to sleep in? Don't forget my laptop cables...."

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_loislane_/]

Lois laughs. Something about the Kents...Smallville isn't her style, but the visits there always feel like coming home, only to a home she'd never really known before. "And get grape juice, please! Plus milk. Thanks!"

Then she pinches Clark. On the backside.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_man_of_steel_/]

Yep. Buns of Steel.

"Once we get there, I can come back and make sure the bulk of your necessities get to the Brownstone before settling in with you for a couple of quiet nights. You ready?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_loislane_/]

"About as ready as I'll be." Lois looks around a moment at the apartment then smiles and wraps her arms around Clark again. "Let's go. I'm hungry."