Ooh, I know, I know ::raising hand frantically:: I *adore* this story. It's ML Thompson's fantastic "First Comes Marriage".
OK, I had to get my answer in. I'll be right back with a quote...
Clark was safe with her. And she was safe with him. And the world could go hang and would have to look after itself.
He had suffered enough. She was suddenly taken by wondering what he had endured in those hours when he had been...what? Dead? Frozen somewhere in between death and living? Could he remember where he had been? How it had felt?
The intriguing concept occupied her for a few moments, then she decided probably not. Such an experience would be etched on his face, she thought, as her eyes studied every inch and plane of the features in question intently. And he looked so at peace. He looked so...
She stopped in her tracks.
He looked so...
Familiar.
Not...not *Clark* familiar. Familiar in ways she had never expected to....
She found that she was trembling.
The light in the room had brightened as she'd been lost in her thoughts and she could see his features more clearly now. She had smoothed his hair back from his forehead as she'd sought to relax him back into peaceful sleep, undisturbed by whatever dreams had made him restless. Sometime during the night he had apparently taken off his glasses....
He looked...
No...
No, that was...that was impossible.
That couldn't be.
Lois eased herself clear of the arms enfolding her, as carefully as though it were a sleeping tiger she sought to escape and not a man -
/Man?/
The shaky thought interrupted as she slipped over the side of the bed and rose to her feet. She backed up slowly. What...who...was it who lay there on her bed? Man? Or...
...Superman...
