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"Okay, let's just say - for the sake of argument - that I go along with this. That I give up everything that makes me happy and go back to pretending I'm satisfied with being your friend." Lois had the good grace to look somewhat abashed, Clark noticed, and he allowed the impact of his words to sink in fully before he continued, his voice rising with each question.
"How long can we keep that up? Are we just supposed to stay single for the rest of our lives?[...]
Lois was quiet for a moment as Clark began to pace.
"Clark," she said finally. "I believe you mean that. I really do. You mean that now. But what about six months from now? How long until you get sick of me?
How long before what you're feeling now fades away and suddenly it's not worth putting up with my weird quirks and insecurities? Then you won't even wind up be the best man, you'll just be an ex-boyfriend that I think back on and wonder whatever happened to him."

"I just love you so much it scares me," she whispered against his neck, damp with her tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's okay. I love you, too," he whispered, stroking her back. He wasn't sure yet that this meant she had abandoned her idea to break up with him, but the fact that she was clinging to him seemed like a good sign.

"Tell me again," she pleaded softly.

"I love you."

"No, tell me you'll never leave me. Tell me you won't get sick of me."

She was out of control, she realized belatedly. This was going to escalate, and she wasn't going to stop it. She wanted him, wanted him like she had never wanted anyone else. Consequences be damned. She'd deal with her broken heart later. It was too late to stop now, anyway. Even if she put a halt to this, their platonic friendship was gone. At least she'd have one night. One perfect night.
She placed a hand on either side of his face, and gently raised it to meet hers. Their lips came together again, nibbling and teasing for just a moment before deepening the kiss once again. His arms went around her again, finding her zipper. He stopped, then retreated, moving to caress her back again. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, confused.
"Lois, we don't have to. We can take this slow. There's no need to rush."
"Please," she whispered, bending to kiss him gently before pulling back again. "I want you, Clark. I need you."
She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she loved him. If he knew that she loved him, he might get all noble and try to put a halt to things. He would never knowingly hurt her. No, it was better that this just remain about passion and mutual attraction. Leave love out of it all together. Her lips cooperated, ceasing to talk and moving back to join his lips, but her heart rebelled, screaming its love for him.

"Oh, God, Lois. I love you," he whispered against her lips.
Lois froze. [...]Not Clark, please not Clark. She could deal with the fact that he didn't love her, though she knew he would break her heart. But she couldn't deal with him lying to her, using her. Honest. Clark was honest, had always been honest with her. If she lost that now....
Clark pulled back, worry evident in his face. "Lois, honey, what's the matter? Are you ok?"
"Don't, Clark. Please, just...you don't have to do that."
He was visibly confused. "Do what?" he asked, stroking her side again.
"You've already got me," she whispered, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "You don't have to tell me that you love me to get me into bed."

I was a beta for her "Never Ending Battle(?) for Sanctuary" some years ago. Sadly she never finished that...

It's a pity you took the revelations scene that isn't that special(IMO) .

"I thought Superman was your friend! You sound like you don't even like him!"
"It's not that I don't like him, it's that I don't like the way you act when you're around him!"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means, I'm sick of watching you get all mooney-eyed every time he drops by! He's just an ordinary man, Lois, stop acting like he's some kind of god!"
"You know what? You're just jealous! Just because I don't get all mooney-eyed over you-"
"No! That's not it at all! I'm just sick of being your sounding board for this pathetic obsession!"
"Are you saying that I'm pathetic?!" she asked, incensed.
"That's *not* what I said! I *said* that this obsession is pathetic - there's a big difference. You're better than this, Lois. You deserve better than this; better than him."
"Better than him? Who could possibly be better than Superman?!"

Clark ran his fingers through his hair again, his jaw clenching. He started to speak, then stopped suddenly. He looked distant for a minute, then began edging toward the door. "You know what, Lois? Just forget about it. I just remembered that I promised a friend that I'd meet him for dinner tonight. I'm really late," he said, opening the door, coat in hand.

"Welcome to the White House, the first stop on tonight's tour. Also know as 'The People's House' and 'The Executive Mansion,' the White House is a popular spot for tourists. George Washington and Pierre L'Enfant designed the White House, but it wasn't completed until after Washington was out of office. John Adams was the first president to live in the White House."
"It looks bigger on TV," Lois commented.
"Well, looks can be deceiving. It's pretty huge. It has six floors, 132 rooms, including 35 bathrooms-"
"How do you know that?!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "I swear, you know more useless trivia than anyone in the world."
"It's not useless," Clark said with a grin. "It keeps you amused."

"Great!" Jimmy exclaimed. Then he hesitated for a minute, as if there was something he wanted to ask but was afraid to.
"Hey, guys, I.... Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Clark said. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just that.... See, everyone is talking about it and I.... Well, I don't want to pry.... But I just don't understand why everyone seems to know but me."

"What are you talking about?" Clark asked. Jimmy looked down and shuffled his feet. Finally he looked up and forced out the question.
"When did this happen?" he asked, gesturing to the two of them. "You know, *this.* When we left Metropolis, everything was normal. And now it's like you two are...are...are a couple. Everyone's talking about it. It's like this accepted fact. They act like you've been together forever. When did this happen? And why didn't you tell me?

Lois and Clark exchanged uncomfortable glances. Lois squirmed, unable to think of a proper response. Her first reaction was to deny everything, but before she could say anything she realized that after dinner and the scene in the bar last night, Jimmy was probably right about the whole conference talking. But on the other hand, she really didn't want to explain the whole embarrassing situation to him. Before she could formulate a response, Clark came to the rescue.
"You're right, Jimmy," he said. "Maybe we should have said something to you earlier, but the whole situation is kind of ... well, complicated."

Lois felt herself begin to flush and she couldn't meet her young co-worker's eyes. Yes, it was definitely complicated, but also totally humiliating. And now Jimmy was going to know what an idiot she had made out of herself with Paul, both in college and by creating a fantasy boyfriend last week. Lois didn't embarrass easily, but right now, she wished the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

"See, the thing is, Jim, this whole relationship, it's really ... personal. It's also very new and frankly, I haven't wanted to say anything to anyone for fear of jinxing it."

Lois's eyes widened and she lifted her head to look at Clark. He was protecting her secret, even from Jimmy? If they'd been alone, she honestly thought she would have wrapped her arms around him and kissed him out of gratitude.

"That's ridiculous, Clark. You make it sound like it's destiny or fate or something. Men and women are attracted to each other for predictable reasons. And they stay with each other for predictable reasons."

Clark's voice turned harsh, his dark eyes blazing. "Okay, Ms. Logic. Turn around and walk away from me. I won't stop you this time." He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes.

She looked at him, speechless for once, not moving.

"Go ahead, " he taunted. "You can do it. It's the *logical* thing to do. Just like it was the logical thing to search for me. To risk your life for me."

She stared at him for a moment, her temper rising. How dare he? She did not belong to him. Then, in a swift determined motion, her dark hair swinging, she turned and strode away from him.

She stared at him for a moment, her temper rising. How dare he? She did not belong to him. Then, in a swift determined motion, her dark hair swinging, she turned and strode away from him. She walked about fifty feet, her thoughts and emotions jumbled. What if he was right? He was so stubborn. It was her decision to make; he'd always waited for her to make the decision. He was waiting now. She turned to look back. He was still standing there, his arms crossed and his legs planted slightly apart, Clark Kent Superman. Kal El.

She met his stern eyes and then, for some reason, she had no idea why, she laughed. She laughed at the ridiculousness of their situation and at herself for the inconsistency of her feelings, torn between her need for autonomy and her need to love more than just herself, to love him, and she laughed at his stubbornness. Then she saw the harsh angles of his face soften into a smile of his own, the most wonderful smile.

She began to walk back to him. He met her half way. Standing in front of him, she said, "OK, I figure it'll take a week to organize a small wedding." She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Next Saturday."

Clark grinned, a magnificent joyful grin that flashed his happiness. Picking her up, he whirled her around and kissed her hard. I told you so," he said as he continued to kiss her. "Woman of my dreams."
He nuzzled her throat, "Forever."

"Clark," her voice was a soft sigh, "Clark."

"So does this mean you'll marry me?"

That woke her up. "Clark, you can't ask me that here, now."

"Why not? Lois..."

"Why not? Clark! What will we tell our kids? You know when they
ask that question that all kids ask, like the one I asked your parents last
night." She quoted her question, "How did Jonathan propose, Martha?" She
continued, "Only our kids are going to be little the first time they ask
it. What are you going to say to them, Clark? "Oh, we were lying stark
naked in the woods after we'd had sex and I popped the question." I don't
think so."

Clark laughed, "So that means yes?"

"Clark," her voice was a warning as she got to her feet. "Don't
you dare..." She stopped, looking around at the bits of clothing that were
strewn in a small circle around them, and then fished out a couple of lacy
scraps. Clark rose to his feet beside her, kissed her lightly, and then
reached over to pick up her shirt.

His eyes were teasing and happy as he helped her on with the shirt,
carefully buttoning it up for her as he spoke. "Okay, I'll do it properly,
later, when we're both fully dressed. Maybe I'll go down on bended knee.
I'll have to think about this, plan it just right," he gestured with his
right hand, sketching an imaginary setting where all this would happen.

Lois looked at him, standing in that small circle of sun in the
woods, the light caressing the muscles of his powerful body as he happily
sketched out what he thought would be a good proposal for children to hear.
He was the most amazing man, she thought. She handed him his shirt.
"Here, cowboy. Put on your shirt and take me to Shuster's field."

Lois shifted uncomfortably, and noticed that her leg was slightly 'asleep'. Her back ached, too. She leaned into the cushions and allowed herself a moment of luxury before bending forward again. It was growing darker; the waning daylight and the light from the street were no longer enough for her to see. She switched on the lamp.

"Lucy and I fought over my teddy bear once. It was a cute bear, a fluffy, light-brown thing that usually sat on my bed. Lucy had her own teddy bear, and every night she fell asleep tightly hugging Mr. Bear. I didn't. I used to put mine anywhere: at the foot of the bed, up beside the pillows, or anywhere it landed when I tossed it on the bed after throwing back the covers. Most mornings I would wake up and find it on the floor. Lucy used to think I was horrid to hurt its poor feelings. How long ago that was!

In my own way, though, I loved my bear. Most of the time it was just another toy, although it was treated with more gentleness, and stayed on the bed long after my other toys were permanently packed into a box in the closet. Some nights, lying in bed with the covers over my head and feeling really upset, I'd clutch it closely, and I would feel strangely comforted.

I loved my bear then."

She lifted her head and looked longingly at the bedroom. On her bed lay an ordinary-looking teddy bear, black and white with a red ribbon around its neck. Even though she couldn't see it from where she was, she knew it was there. The most precious teddy bear in the world.

She held his gaze for as long as he looked at her, ignoring everyone else as he floated above their heads. She felt her heart breaking, but she concentrated on him. Looking at his beloved face, memorizing every line of every feature, holding his gaze as they communicated endlessly through their eyes. It was a brief moment that lasted an eternity.

In a flash, he was gone.

It was too sudden, too real. She hadn't really realized he was going until he *had* gone. Her knees gave way, and she felt a pair of arms holding her up, keeping her from falling.

From far away, she heard a voice saying, "Dearest Lois, a love that risks nothing is worth nothing."

***********

That was a century ago.

She sank into the sofa, enveloped within an eerie sense of unreality.

On an impulse, she took out a notebook and a pen from her bag and began writing.

"A long time ago, Daddy left. Years after, Claude left. And now...

But no, this is different, isn't it? Clark promised me he'd come back - he promised. And I believe him. I know he'll come back, because he promised. Because he has to.

“Are you going to tell me where you’ve been, Clark?”

He thought only a minute before shaking his head. At this point, it wasn’t any of her business. “I’d rather not – ”

“Because you and Superman have both been gone for over six months.” She stared at him, her eyes piercing. “Almost to the day.”

He knew then. She knew. She already knew what he’d come all the way back to Metropolis to tell her.

The sound of the ringing phone woke Clark from a deep sleep. He
rolled over and glanced at the clock. Three AM. Who would be
calling him at three AM?

"Hello, Clark?"

Oh. Of course. "Lois? Are you okay?"

"No! I'm not okay! I was tired but I couldn't fall asleep so I
started watching Ivory Tower and... Oh no! I just told you I
watch Ivory Tower! I can't believe I told you I watch a soap
opera!"

Thought I'd change the quotes game, a bit, if that's okay?

Clark looked out the window and started counting snowflakes as they drifted by. He'd picked out 52 before the next one looked oddly familiar. In fact, it looked an awful lot like snowflake #17. Could it be? ... No, wait. They weren't identical, after all. #17 had a spike that was three thousandths of an inch longer.

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark!" she snapped.
"I think I know the difference between you and..."

Her voice died in her throat. He was standing a step below her, and his face was nearly on a level with hers. It was white and apprehensive... and totally serious.

"Do you, Lois?" he said when she didn't continue. "What's the difference between me and Superman?"

She started as a frigid blast of air suddenly grazed her bare skin where the door beside her had been wrenched violently open. Rough hands grabbed at her arms, yanking her out to stand on the pavement and then she was being pushed up against the side of the Jeep and quite thoroughly kissed by her partner.

His lips forced hers apart, his tongue entering into the slick, hot cavern of her mouth and exploring there in a frenzy. His hands loosened their grip, slid up along her shoulders and up to frame her face in large, protective palms as he deepened the caress.

"Clark...." she blurted dizzily and he frowned, placing his fingers against her lips.

"I don't want to talk," he growled an admonishment and then he replaced his fingers with his mouth and swept away her voice, her thoughts, all self will she possessed. She molded her body pliantly against his strong, masculine curves as she moaned softly, the sound drawn up deeply from the back of her throat. She heard an answering groan from him.