The Kents had greeted him warmly each and every time he saw them, and had even offered him supper on the odd occasion. He had thought their friendship was making great progress. They were always glad to see him and never asked probing questions. Visiting Smallville had become sort of a rest pit from dealing with Lois’s recent inquisitiveness into his past and, not to mention, her mood swings.
Family without them being family.
It wasn’t a hopeful kind of sigh, more a regretful one, so Clark looked over to see what she was looking at.
She had the magazine open at a ninety degree angle and he could only see one of the two pages. It was an advertisement for a new kind of baby monitor, and showed an adorable brown haired, brown eyed baby lying in a crib. Was Lois sighing about babies? Lois?
His anxious heart that was already beating at a thousand miles a minute, doubled its speed and lodged itself into his throat. Did she want one? Already? Lois and babies? He hadn’t really thought about her as a mother before, round with child, caring for a little bundle of joy, but now that he knew she wanted to be one, the idea excited him.
And the way to make a baby is pretty enjoyable too, isn't it Clark?
Clark: *blushes* no comment.
On the page opposite the baby monitor ad was a travel article on Tahiti.
Clark’s heart dropped out of his throat and landed with a thud into his shoes. She hadn’t been sighing about babies. She had been sighing about Tahiti. He remembered how she had wanted Superman to fly her there after he had rescued her from the Metropolis Sewage Reclamation Facility.
Suddenly, a new set of images raced through Clark’s mind, and none of them had to do with how she had looked that night. Lois at the beach, lying in a skimpy bikini on the sand, splashing in the waves, all wet, wearing flowers in her hair, kissing him at sunset as the water lapped at their feet, making love in a cabin on the beach with a gentle breeze moving the gauzy curtains of their room. He gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Going to make staying away from her in the red suit all the harder isn't it, Clark?
Clark: *blushes even deeper* It doesn't mean I won't keep trying to stay away.
She frowned and shut the magazine. “I don’t think so, Clark. That was another dream, for another time,” she said, letting go of his hand to return the magazine to the seat pocket in front of her. “It wouldn’t be the same.”
Lois had told Superman that she wanted to go to Tahiti, and Superman had said he would take her there someday. The sigh had probably been for the trip she’d now never take there with Superman.
Clark hated that he was still jealous of that fake side of himself. He hated that Lois wasn’t completely over her love for Superman. He hated that he, Clark Kent, wasn’t enough for her. The fact that he was Superman should have made a dent in his current bout of self-loathing, soothing his bruised ego, but it didn’t.
Lois: *muttering to herself* Until he can be fully truthful with me how can I trust him enough for such a trip?
Poor Clark.
He started drumming his fingers on his leg, feeling decidedly trapped inside that car. He wished Lois had opted for the convertible that had been available. The open air would have done wonders for this feeling of being a caged animal. If they were in a convertible, he could just unbuckle his seatbelt and escape into the dark night’s sky.
I wonder if Lois is paying any attention to his body language here because it's screaming, "I'm telling! I'm telling!"
There was a flick of the curtain as an older woman with strawberry blond hair and glasses glanced out the window. Lois’s chest began to throb with pure misery. She knew that woman. Her first desire was to wrap her arms around the woman – whom she knew in her heart to be Martha Kent – and cry. This feeling was both overpowering and confusing. Why would she feel such a kinship to a woman she had never met? Seeing this woman made Lois both want to cry and to kiss Clark. She was suddenly so thankful that he was alive.
Ah, the double deja vu kicking in to help nudge her trust the right way again.
“Hi. We spoke on the phone. I’m Lois Lane from the Daily Planet, and this is my…” Lois said, turning to indicate Clark.
“Husband. Jerome. Jerome Lane,” Clark said, wrapping one hand around Lois’s waist and holding out his hand.
Oh he is going to get into
so much trouble for this.
Oh poor Clark, playing the "beat down" (bad phrasing, trying to come up with a better one) to Lois's upset wife. Would two beds be better for this couple I wonder?
