Okay, I've never done a challenge in my life! But Erica's story inspired me to try! So here's my first attempt blush to the holiday scavenger hunt challenge. I somehow managed to get the whole list into the story! Anyway... hope you enjoy~


O Christmas Tree


“An angel!” said Lois.

“A star,” said Clark, more calmly.

“An angel!”

“A star,” he said, tilting his head at her, trying not to laugh as she was clearly annoyed.

“An angel, darling,” she squeezed out, barely opening her mouth to say the words.

“A star, dear.”

She stormed off. She’d had enough. The tree was uneven, not nearly green enough, the lights were all different colors, not white like she’d wanted, and strung about the tree in the most awful way, no rhyme or reason to it. This was not what it was supposed to be like!

“Lois,” Clark said softly, entering the kitchen.

Great… he’d found her. He – the man who was allowing Christmas to fall apart at the seams, who prided himself on being *Superman*, at that – found her and had the gall to wrap his arms around her from behind. And that annoyed her because even though she was very angry… his embrace, as always, felt wonderful.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“What’s *wrong*?” she asked, turning to face him, her eyes flashing. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. This is our first Christmas as a *family*, Clark! It’s not just you and me anymore! There’s Emily now, too! It’s her first Christmas and correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re trying to ruin it!”

“I am not trying to ruin anything, Lois. I’m just having fun. I know it’s Em’s first Christmas. Do you have any idea how excited I am? The wife of my dreams, a beautiful baby girl… *my* family in my home… together at Christmas?”

“Well if I’m the wife of your dreams, Clark, why did you get the colored lights? I said I wanted white… it looks more – “

“ – Perfect?”

She glared at him. “Next to your Charlie Brown concoction, yes! And I wanted a better tree, Clark! A taller one! I just want Emily’s first Christmas to be – “

“ – Perfect?”

She glared at him again.

“Lois, what happened to the woman who once bought the frailest, most pathetic tree in the whole world, put a *star* on top of it, gave it love and made it beautiful?”

“She was a loner, Clark. You are looking at a married mother now! I have a family and I don’t ask for much, do I? I just want, this once, for everything to be – “

“ – Perfect, yeah I got it. You know… you’re beginning to sound an awful lot like…” he stopped, his eyes getting wide.

And then her eyes got wide. Her mother! “Say it, Clark. I dare you.”

He sighed. “Lois, I don’t want to fight. I hate fighting with you. And at Christmas! What’s supposed to be a special Christmas, too. Look…I didn’t realize any of this would bother you so much. I’ll get the white lights, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Lois turned away from him, anger boiling within her. And he left. She didn’t have to have Superman’s hearing to be able to hear that familiar, resigned sigh, from the doorway.

She hated fighting with Clark too. He was her best friend, put up with her erratic moods, loved her more than she often thought she deserved to be loved and was the most wonderful, loving husband. He was far beyond even her grandest dreams.

But what he said still hurt.

She hadn’t behaved like her mother. Not at all! She just wanted this Christmas to be especially perfect. That hardly made her Ellen Lane.

She turned on her heel, prepared to let Clark know just that, when she saw him. HG Wells, that is.

“What are… I haven’t seen *you* in awhile.”

“No. You haven’t,” he said, smiling.

“So what is this? A problem in another realm? Utopia off-balance. You know, we’re doing the best we can. And I really don’t have time for – “

“See with me, Miss Lane, or Mrs. Kent or Mrs. Lane or however you want to put it, you always have time! So…”

“… so?”

“What are we waiting for?”

*
*
*

“This… this is my house,” Lois said, standing outside her house as flakes of snow landed on her eyelashes. She turned to HG Wells. “You’ve taken me *all* the way outside?”

“Well, let’s get inside, shall we?”

She walked inside and her mouth fell open at the sight that greeted her.

“…the children were nestled all snug in their beds – “ Clark read, as a little girl of about five-years-old sat in his lap, her head on his shoulder, looking at the pictures animatedly.

“…while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads!” she said.

“That’s right,” he said. He kissed the little girl’s head before continuing the story.

“Mommy!” said a little boy – who must have been about three-years-old – before pummeling into Lois’s legs and grabbing onto her. Only it wasn’t *her* legs… there was another Lois. Her hair was a little longer and she looked… a little different somehow…

“Honey, what have I told you about running full force into mommy’s legs?” the other Lois asked, looking down at the little boy… who looked just like Clark.

“That I’m just like daddy so I shouldn’t run real fast into things because you’re not just like daddy and it hurts!”

Clark looked up from reading and smiled at the other Lois. She smiled back and then looked at the boy again. “Petey, *you* are the most precious boy,” she said, bending down. “And I love you,” she said, kissing one of his closed eyes. “I love you,” she said again, kissing the other eye as he giggled. “I love you,” she said kissing his little nose.

The boy launched himself into her arms, exclaiming the love he returned in full, before running to his father’s side and sitting on the floor by his chair to listen to the story.

Lois watched the scene before her with tears in her eyes. If HG Wells was trying to make her stop being mad at Clark, it worked. She wanted nothing more than to go home and lay in his arms, telling him how lucky she was to have such a wonderful man to share her life with.

When the story ended, the little boy stood up. “Daddy, do you like my tree!?”

Clark laughed. Oh, that smile… “I’ve told you a hundred times that I love it!” he said, pulling the boy so he was sitting beside his sister on Clark’s lap.

It was then that Lois noticed the tree.

“Oh god…”

It was shiny. “Is that… an aluminum Christmas tree?”

“It would appear to be,” HG Wells said, smiling.

It was so awful!

“What about you, mommy!?”

The other Lois walked over to the tree and looked at it, a big smile lighting up her whole face. “Well, it’s very special. Just like you. And really, when you offered me a hundred kisses if I would buy the tree, how could I refuse?”

The little boy positively beamed.

Lois looked at HG Wells again. “Okay, I see what this is about. I was being too hard on Clark. Trees are not about colored lights or white lights or about being all green and even and whatnot. Lesson learned. Can I go home now? I’d really like to talk to… oh god, what is that thing stapled to the tree?”

“Mommy, do you like the ornament I made you at school?”

The other Lois smiled at her daughter. “Who wouldn’t like a… whatever that is… when *you* made it, Em? As a matter of fact, this is my favorite ornament. It’s got everything, too. Beads, string, glue, confetti, three ears, six eyes, Advil hair… it’s just perfect.”

Emily just smiled shyly and looked down. She sat down after a moment with her little brother and began playing something… spinning something…

“Is that… are my kids spinning a dradle?”

“It would seem so,” HG Wells said.

“A little unusual, don’t you think?”

“Unusual how?”

“Well, we’re not Jewish.”

He smiled. “One of Emily’s friends at school told her all about Chanukah and she took a real interest in it. She really loves the dradle.”

“I can see that.”

“I can’t wait for Christmas tomorrow!” Petey said.

“And then boxing day the day after that!” Emily chimed in.

“Boxing day? Isn’t that… a Canadian holiday?” Lois asked in unison with the other Lois. She looked at her in awe. Maybe they weren’t two totally different people, after all.

“Lauren just moved here from Canada, duh,” Emily said, shrugging.

“Lauren’s the new girl in your kindergarten class,” the other Lois said, nodding. “Okay.”

“Dradles, Boxing Day… so you’re telling me that in the future I raise my kids as Jewish Canadians?”

HG Well smiled, shrugging like he knew a secret.

“Well that sounds fun, Em. What do we do?” the other Lois said, bending down, taking Clark’s hand.

“I guess we give our presents to children that don’t got presents.”

“You’re going to give away all of your presents? The ones Santa will bring?”

She thought about that. “I know! We’ll keep the toys and give away the clothes! Kids need clothes, too!”

“Oh, nice!” the other Lois said, laughing. “Well, we’ll get some things together to give away and make sure lots of children have a nice Christmas, okay?”

“Okay.”

Just then the lights flickered and turned off. The only light in the room was the light from the tree. It was very romantic, actually, and Lois suddenly wished HG Wells had taken Clark on this little ride too, so she could snuggle up against him. Give him a kiss him…

“Hang on, hang on,” Clark said, getting to his feet.

“Those lights have been on the skits for days, honey,” the other Lois said. “Although I’m not objecting to this lighting.” She walked up to him, a mischievous smile on her face. “It certainly is… romantic.”

He bent down and kissed her and then smiled. He turned to Petey. “Hey, buddy, remember what we got to light the room in case this happened?”

Petey jumped up. “Giant candles! I want to light them!”

Clark picked his son up, smiling and left the room.

Lois look at HG Wells again. “I told you. I get it; I do. I’m looking forward to all of this, honestly. But I really want to be back in a place where *I* can actually touch Clark and give him a kiss… and apologize. So… can we go? Please?”

Lois felt a gust of wind as the door opened and closed quickly.

“Look at what the Cat dragged in!”

“Auntie Cat!” Emily said, running toward Cat… who was dressed as Santa. Well… a very slutty Santa.

“Cat, aren’t you freezing in that?” the other Lois asked, leaning in to give Cat a little kiss on the cheek.

“For the looks I got on the way over, it was worth it! So now that the litter’s growing, is my room out?”

“No, there’s a guest bedroom for you. Petey’s in with Emily for the week.”

“I’m friends with Cat Grant? She’s been away for years! She sends the occasional post card to the family.”

HG Wells just shrugged.

“You guys are great,” Cat said, pulling off her Santa hat. “You’ve been so great since… well… you know. And I really do appreciate it.”

“I know,” the other Lois said. “And hey, this is what friends are for. It’ll be a good week. Perry and Alice’s party, Jimmy and Cassie’s. I guess we’re having a little big of a Boxing Day celebration too. Don’t ask,” she laughed at Cat’s confused expression. “And of course strewn in you’ll have to deal with my whole family. And Clark’s, but you like them anyway.”

“Cat!” Clark said, walking back into the room with his son in one arm, and two giant candles in the other.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and put the candles sturdily into their holders. He picked up a match-gun and let his son put his little hand over his big one and they lit the candles, making the room shine just a bit brighter.

Petey got down and hugged his Aunt Cat, while Clark put an arm around Lois.

“This Christmas really is just…”

“perfect?” she asked. And he laughed. They both did.

It was all so nice.

“I see you guys have a stocking for Superman. Smooth, Lois,” Cat said, fingering the stocking.

“He’s our friend!” Emily said indignantly.

“Well he’s mine too,” Cat said. “He’s kind of everyone’s friend. I’m sure he appreciates being thought of by you,” she said, with a wink to Lois and Clark.

“Tinkle Bells, Tinkle Bells, Tinkle all the way!” Petey sang.

“Uh-oh, we know what that means,” the other Lois said. “Come on, Petey. My big boy, all toilet-trained!”

When they returned a few moments later, Emily had a present ready for everyone. “One present on Christmas eve, right?”

“What is this?” Cat asked, holding some material in her hands.

“I made it at school!” Emily said. “It’s a sock!”

“But the open end is sewn together… doesn’t that make it kind of usele – “ the other Lois cleared her throat, “special! Doesn’t that just make it special?”

“Clark… turtle doves?” the other Lois asked, holding up the pretty ceramic bird for her husband.

He smiled that gorgeous smile. “Two, honey. One for me and one for you. They go together… like us.”

“Thank you, honey. I love it,” she said, leaning in to kiss him.

Lois looked at the scene. A pretty Christmas song playing in the background, a good friend (apparently) present, a guest in their home.. .which was so full… full of love, full of life, full of wonder and excitement… the giant candles illuminating the aluminum tree, the strange concoction that Emily made at school stapled to it.

*This* was perfect.

This was Christmas.

“I think we can go,” HG Wells told her, leading her outside.

Once outside, a girl with large earmuffs and a crazy looking ski hat ran up to them.

“Oh my god! You’re… you’re… Lois Lane! I am such a big fan!”

“Oh, you’ve read my work?” Lois asked.

“Actually I am a fan of both you *and* Clark. I’m a FoLC!”

“A what?”

“A FoLC!”

“Folk? A folk singer?”

“No, no. A FoLC… fan of – “

But she didn’t finish. HG Wells pulled her aside, quickly, and Lois could only make out a word here and there.

“… can’t know… I meant to take you back to your world, but first I had to… mess up the time-space continuum if you… so do not tell…”

The girl turned and looked back at Lois. “Yeah, I’m a fan of your work! Your writing. At the Daily Planet. Uh huh. Can I get your autograph?”

Lois signed her name on the girl’s paper, and looked incredulously at HG Wells. “You will explain this later.”

“Oh my god!” the girl said, looking at her autograph. “I’m going to be the envy of everyone at lcficmbs.com!”

“What?!” Lois asked.

“I’ve never been anyone’s envy before! This will be… oh my god… what if they don’t believe me!? What if they think I’m making it up!?”

“I’ll be back for you later,” HG Wells said, before disappearing with Lois, returning her to her rightful world.

*
*
*

“This is my house… again.”

“Why don’t you go inside?”

Lois turned to him. “First… who was that strange girl? Why would a folk singer want my autograph? I mean, in the future… I don’t write folk music or anything, do I?”

He smiled. “I can’t reveal the future, Miss… Mrs… Whatever.”

“You just spent the past half hour revealing – “

“ – a possible future. Every action leads to what someday will be. You’ve got to try your hardest to make the future what you want it to be.”

“Okay, but that girl – “

“Is that really what you want to be doing right now? Learning about that girl?”

She looked at the window of her house. She could see the silhouette of her husband, unstringing the lights from the tree. Alone.

“No.” She turned back to him. “Thanks.”

“Any *time*.”

*

Lois opened the front door and walked in, finding the living room a little too dark for her liking. And finding her husband looking a little too down for her liking.

“Hi, honey,” he said, when he saw her, like he was afraid he could say something wrong and should keep his words short and safe.

She smiled at him and walked closer. “What are you doing?”

“Taking the lights off. I’ll get the white ones in the morning.”

“Yeah, but the colored lights *are* more fun, don’t you think?”

She took the lights that were in his hands and threw them about the tree messily, smiling at her handy work. “Let’s turn them on, get some holiday lighting in here.”

“Did you hit your head on the way in here?” he asked. But even as the words came out, he walked over and flipped the switch to turn the lights on.

“And the star you got me?”

He looked at her, questioningly, but dug it out of the box and placed it atop the tree.

“And how about some Christmas music?”

“But the baby – “

“ – we won’t wake her. We’ll put it on softly.”

He turned on the music and she walked toward him, burying her face in his chest. She could smell him in his sweater and feel the warmth emanating from his body and the love emanating from him. “I love you, Clark Kent,” she said.

“Oh, I love you too, honey. But… are you alright? I mean, a few seconds ago, you were – “

“Temporarily insane,” she said. She looked up at him. “I forgot that as long as I have you and our family is together, here, Christmas already *is* perfect.”

He bent down and kissed her sweetly.

“I really love you, Lois Lane.”

She smiled against him. “Mm… show me.”

“What?”

“Show me you love me, Clark. And I’ll… show you.”

He kissed her again. And they did. Show each other.

Right beside the Christmas tree.