Enter: El Dorko

Clark ducked into the ball late. His newly found duties were making him late for everything. And this was the last thing he wanted to be late for. Clark knew very well that Chloe would be around somewhere; All he had to do was find her. That shouldn't be too hard... He thought to himself, straightening his tie as he waded through the crowds.

"Smallville.... nice of you to show up..." A familiar voice chided from behind him. Clark had to bite his tounge, but turned to face Lois regardless. He faked a smile, only half the irritation real.

"Lois...I should have known..." He mocked in return, adjusting the wire rim glasses on his nose. "Don't you have a story to be working on... Superguy or something? I thought Perry assigned you to sit out on the roof? Can I escort you to the elevator?" Clark grinned down at her, receiving the typical eye-rolling from Lois. "Ok, ok..." He relented softly, imitating defeat as Lois turned away.

Clark caught a glimpse of a very unlady-like gesture directed towards him discreetly. She mouthed the words 'El Dorko' in his direction. Lois had been taking Spanish classes at Met U. for a brief time, in the hopes of impressing a long since gone boyfriend, and she just couldn't resist the development of a new nickname for Clark. She had a million: El Dorko one of his least favorites. Clark grinned to himself and turned around. For a man with super-speed and extra sensory abilities, Clark wasn't paying much attention to what he was doing, or where he was going. But then, that was part of his persona; His persona as Clark Kent...

Before he knew just what was happening, his broad chest collided with a warm feminine back. His hands clamped gently onto bare shoulders and his aqua eyes bulged behind the lenses of his glasses. "I'm..." A thousand memories rushed through Clark's brain before he could finish his sentence. Who knew a scent held such strong powers? Not him. The images, the feelings, the emotions had him reeling, searching to find the present, the reality. "Sorry..."

The second word barely escaped from his gaping mouth as he looked down into a pile of soft golden hair. He instantly felt the urge to bury his face in it, but managed some dignity and held steady. Desire to sniff the blonde locks had passed, but other desires had not. The bare skin of her arms was warm, too warm. Clark's hand twitched, aching to stroke along the soft skin.

What is wrong with you Clark!? You don't even know this woman! He scolded himself. Clark thought he didn't know who's tiny frame remained pressed up against his. And Clark felt that if said frame remained so close, it's owner might get an unpleasant hello.

"I'm sorry..." Clark repeated more firmly, louder, finding some strength in his voice. His hands fell away from the bare arms and he took a step back, attempting to rid his senses of her scent. "I wasn't paying attention..." He added, once again pressing the glasses back onto his face, re-convincing everyone of his 'dork' status.