Ooooh! That's Kaethel's wonderful
Seasons Out of Time 
One of my absolute favourites;
Clark Kent watched his wife with tender amusement, enjoying the play of colored light on her satiny camisole top as she moved. Lois was enumerating the reasons they couldn't go away for the weekend, but the sidelong glance she gave him
would have told him she was teasing, even if her exaggerated list hadn't made it clear. ". . . and paying bills and washing the windows and getting out my spring clothes and then dry
cleaning and packing up the winter ones. And we probably ought to air out the mattress and pillows--no sense wasting such nice weather--"
"I agree." He reached across the remains of the pu pu platter to take her left hand and press his mouth to each knuckle. "And while they're airing, we can go on a picnic."
"A picnic? You mean where you sit on a blanket in a patch of poison ivy and eat cold fried chicken and warm potato salad and fend off ants and someone's muddy dog and huddle under a tree to get out of the rain?"
Clark grinned. "Personal experience, Lois?"
Sara
