Foreward:

It's taken me two years to complete this story. Obviously, I'm not a fast writer frown , but I finally was able to write The End on this story.

I'd like to thank my faithful beta readers, ML Thompson,Jude Williams and CCMalo. Thank you all very much.

I'm including the first three parts of this story in the first post because they are short. You'll also notice they seem disjointed. Bear with me. Everything will come together very soon.

In this universe, New Krypton does not exist and therefore, the New Kryptonians did not come to Earth. (I never liked them goofy )

I like to plagarize ML's disclaimer so

Quote
This is a fanfic based on the television show, Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm borrowing these characters for a little fun and not for any profit. For complete disclaimer, go to: ML's disclaimer
All comments and criticism are welcome.

Now enjoy:

Northern Lights
by Gerry Anklewicz

Algonquin Park, Ontario

Jeremy Hamilton paused for a moment. He wiped his brow and removed his jacket. Even though it was very cold out and he could see frost starting to settle on the ground, digging had made him hot. He took another moment to look over the lake at the moving patterns of light that curtained the black sky. He had heard of the aurora borealis, but he’d never seen them before this night. He promised himself to bring his sons to see nature’s spectacular light show.

He listened carefully. All he heard were the peaceful night sounds of the country: a chirping cricket, a flutter of wings, a breath of wind whispering through the trees, the lapping of the lake water against the shore.

But he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the magnificence of nature. He had to keep digging a little deeper to bury his package before he and it were found. Jeremy knew he was being followed; he just didn’t know who or where the hunter was. He kept digging until he heard the clang of metal against solid rock. He tried two more shovelfuls, but once again, he hit the ungiving Canadian Shield. He bent down, placed the package in the ground, shook his head in disgust, got up and began shovelling dirt over it. When the hole was filled, he patted down the mound of earth and brought the ubiquitous leaves and twigs to camouflage his work. He noted and memorized the formation of trees and rocks, but he hoped nobody would ever find the package again. It was more trouble than it was worth. Damn his brother. Why did he always manage to get himself in trouble?

He picked up the shovel, his jacket, his bottle of water and walked toward the lake, a hundred and fifty yards away. Once again, he looked around and listened. He sensed he was alone. He walked out to the end of the dock that no one had removed from the lake. They would have to do it soon, before the lake froze over, but he decided not to bemoan his good fortune. He stood on the end of the dock and with the shovel in his right hand, he began to swing it overhead--not quite a shotput, but the training was good enough for his purpose tonight. With one loud grunt, he heaved the shovel far into the lake. He watched as it sank leaving only large concentric circles moving away from its centre. When the ripples died down, Jeremy stood a little longer and watched the peaceful lake and the dancing lights to the north of him. He then picked up his jacket which he had left on the sand and jogged the two miles back to his car.

By the time he’d reached the rented vehicle, he was breathing hard and sweating more than he had earlier. He leaned against the driver’s side and waited until his breath subsided to a normal rate. He was in good shape, but he had also exerted himself too much. It was all right now. He’d go back home and forget about...

The sounds had changed. Slowly, he turned around one hundred and eighty degrees until he saw a large shadow coming towards him. He stepped away from the car and began running in the opposite direction he had come from. He heard the footsteps of the shadow growing louder and speeding up. He ran. Not quite sure where he was going, Jeremy sensed rather than saw an opening in the brush that hugged the road. He turned sharply and ran down the dirt path, but the road was uneven and he stumbled several times. Even after the road ended he kept running, tripping over underbrush but getting up and continuing. He jogged left and then right, trying to get away from the shadow before it overtook him. He hoped that he would find somewhere to hide. In the morning, he would get his bearings, find the car and head home.

He heard the shadow before he felt the blow to his head.

*******************
Metropolis, New Troy


Clark Kent stood at the kitchen counter chopping carrots for the stew he was preparing.

"It’s a good thing that you learned how to use one of those slow cooker things, Clark," Lois shouted from the living room where she was dusting the bookshelves. "It would be a shame if you didn’t know how to use it considering we got two of them as wedding gifts."

"No problem, Lois. All I had to do was read the instruction booklet and follow the recipe. And you don’t have to shout, I can hear you perfectly."

"I forgot," she said, her voice quieter. "When we’re this domestic I don’t think of you as being ‘super,’ and it’s so natural to raise my voice when you’re in another room. I’ll learn eventually." Lois had moved from the living room into the doorway of the kitchen as she was speaking. She liked to watch her husband work in the kitchen of their new home. He seemed so much more at ease in that room than she ever would be.

She moved toward his back and put her arms around his waist. "You are so good at this cooking stuff. I think that’s the real reason I married you."

"Oh, I thought it was my country boy charms." He turned around to kiss her, but in mid-motion, he stopped.

"What?"

Clark was quiet for a few seconds. Lois recognized what she called his listening stance. He kissed her quickly and stepped away. "Neighbour’s radio. Earthquake in a remote province in China. It sounds pretty bad."

"Then you better go." She motioned with her fingers for him to do his "spin thing". In less than a second, Superman stood in front of her.

"I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just add the carrots and some soup stock and turn the knob on the cooker to low. Put the lid on and don’t touch it until I come back."

Four hours later, Lois lifted the lid on the slow cooker and stirred the ingredients in the pot. The vegetables and the beef looked pretty much the same, and then she remembered that she was supposed to add some soup stock. She wasn’t quite sure where to find that. She looked in the fridge, but she didn’t see it there. On a whim, she looked in the freezer. Martha had filled the freezer as a going back to work present for the newlywed couple, but there was nothing labelled as stock. That left the pantry. Cans of soup? She checked the labels wondering if consomme was the same as soup stock. Deciding to be brave, she opened a can and filled a measuring cup with the clear liquid, but it looked like more than some. She dumped half the stock into the sink and the rest into the slow cooker. She mixed the ingredients thoroughly, surprised at how fast the liquid was absorbed into the food. She covered the pot, and because she was hungry, she made herself a cheese sandwich.

Four hours later, Lois turned off the TV. Superman was still busy in China. The earthquake caused major destruction in a fairly large village leaving too many homes demolished with their owners buried deep underneath the rubble. LNN was reporting that Superman had been zeroing in on areas where he could hear survivors and either help dig them out or instruct rescue workers where to dig. Reports were coming back about the many lives Superman was saving.

Lois went into the kitchen and looked at the stew in the slow cooker. Once again, she stirred it, wondering where the enticing aromas that Clark managed to elicit when he was cooking were. There was no aroma; there was no colour. The stew was still raw. She couldn’t understand it. She checked the knob which was set at low, exactly as Clark had told her. The lid was on. She had put some liquid in the pot and stirred. Then she saw her problem. The plug was not in the socket. Simple. She plugged the cooker in, poured herself a glass of wine and returned to the TV to see what LNN was reporting on the earthquake.

When Clark returned, ten hours later, he was tired, dirty and excited. Sniffing the air, he wandered into the kitchen. The slow cooker was on Low, but when he lifted the lid, the ingredients were dried out and burned around the edges. Not enough soup stock, he thought with a smile.

He approached Lois who had fallen asleep on the couch watching the news. He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Definitely didn’t fall in love with you for your abilities in the kitchen," he whispered.


*******************
Huntsville, Ontario

Dr. David Morrow sped down the isolated concession road heading back towards town and the calm of his apartment. It had been a long night sitting up with Alice Kelly until she finally gave birth to her fourth child, a strapping nine pound boy. He would have preferred taking her to the hospital in town, but she refused adamantly, saying that she had given birth to her first three boys at home and she would do the same for her fourth. It wasn’t her fault that Shawna Steeles, the midwife, had decided to go to her son’s wedding in Toronto.

On his drive home, when David had seen the calm lake and swirling lights of the aurora borealis beckoning to him, he decided not to drive on, but to pull over. It was three in the morning. He didn’t have anything more important to do, and he knew that he was too pumped up to sleep after such an exciting night. Delivering babies and drinking lots of coffee did that to him. He parked the car and walked to the flat rock beside the lake. He sat down to watch the lights.

He wasn’t sure what had originally brought him to this summer town in Central Ontario, what kept him here: the lakes, the tall pines and the dancing lights...and the beautiful police sergeant. He sat down on the rock and watched the water undulate against the pebbly shore, and saw the muted greens, reds and purple flicker across the night sky. In the distance, other rocks jutted over the lake, the background silhouetted by the tall pines whose spicy aroma filtered by his nose like freshly perked coffee. Except for the occasional bird, the only sounds were the gentle wind and the lapping of the water.

Deciding to ignore the brisk fall weather, he gave into the urge to strip off his clothes and, with a yelp, he ran into the cold lake. Swimming with strong, sure strokes to the buoy, he touched it, then turned around and headed back to shore. He waded back to the rock where he had left a large beach towel to wrap around himself.

"Cold...cold...cold," he muttered and allowed himself to shiver, but the towel was doing its job and he huddled inside just watching nature at its most quiet. He scanned the peaceful panorama. In the distance, on top of one of the outcrops, a very large bird was taking flight. But as he strained his eyes, he realized that it wasn’t a bird, it was a person, a woman who stretched her arms out at her sides, leapt up and then began the most graceful dive he had ever seen. Mesmerized, he watched the swirling lights accentuate her exquisite form as she brought her arms over her head and she plunged into the water. He looked for her, but he couldn’t see her; instead, he only heard a muffled sound as if someone was vigorously stroking the water. Within seconds, the sound disappeared only to return again. He looked into the lake, trying to find some movement so that he could ascertain that she was fine. And then he saw the splash of a swimmer moving quickly toward the shore, turn around and head back to the other side of the lake outside his view. Was that her? It couldn’t be. Not even an Olympic swimmer could move that quickly. But the streaks in the water kept returning, and as if transfixed, David could not move his eyes. Finally, the figure floated out of the water until it reached the peak of the outcrop where she set herself down. Incongruously, David thought, she picked up something, floated in the air, shook out her long hair, and covered herself.

"Wow," he said out loud. And the figure disappeared.

David sat back and tried to figure out what he saw. Was she an apparition? He’d heard the story the children told of Farmer Meyerson coming back from the dead to make sure that his wife never used his old barn. Maybe she was the stork celebrating the safe delivery of Baby Boy Kelly. Or maybe she was an angel trying out a human pastime? An angel, that was a nice thought.

"That’s right, Morrow, now they’ll all know you’ve completely gone ‘round the bend," he said.

"Which bend?"

The voice was a whisper, a feathery, silky, erotic whisper.

He turned to look at the owner of the angelic voice.

"Don’t turn around," the voice ordered, never changing its pitch.

"I’d like to see you," David said.

"Not possible."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I heard you."

"Oh!" That surprised David. He didn’t think he had spoken that loudly. "Who are you?"

"A dream."

"Yours or mine?"

"Maybe both."

David sensed her move towards him, stand behind him. He stood up, keeping his back to her, afraid that if he turned around, she would disappear and leave him with so many questions. She took another step closer to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. He could feel her heat through the damp towel covering him.

"You're wet," she whispered. A shiver ran up David’s spine.

Suddenly, he felt the towel dry and warm up. She had a magic touch; she really was an angel.

"I don’t understand..." he mumbled.

"There’s nothing to understand. When you wake, this will all have been a dream. You decide what kind of a dream you want."

"This isn’t right," he protested as felt her hand glide over his shoulders and her lips place a feather-light kiss on the back of his neck.

"I can leave." She pulled back a step.

"No. Don’t go." He paused a moment, reaching back to hold her hand. David knew he should tell her to leave, but what did he think was going to happen here? He wanted her to touch him, to continue pressing her lips on the back of his neck. He couldn’t understand the frissons of heat running through his body. But he wanted to know her, understand her, even if she was dream.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Sometimes, it’s better not to ask, better not to talk," she said. Her sultry voice made him shiver. "Look, the lights are fading. The show is over for tonight."

"Don’t go." David heard the pleading in his voice. He couldn’t let her go.

She placed her hand on his face and stepped around to look at him. He strained to see her, but her long, damp hair and the night’s shadows created a veil that hid her from him. She placed her other hand on his cheek, gently pulling his face toward her. He allowed her to draw nearer, her lips coming closer to his. The kiss was tentative at first, two lips meeting for the first time, touching, withdrawing and touching again. He felt his heart beat faster as he, this time, kissed her demanding more than just a gentle encounter. He sought her hungrily, passionately and he breathed a sigh of relief when her tongue met his ready to explore new territory.

He didn’t understand what was happening to them, but he felt a craving, a longing for this woman, whether real or not, that he had never experienced before. He knew in his heart that the love he wanted in a relationship wasn’t there, he didn’t expect it to be, and he, who had never condoned sex without love, felt a summons from this corporeal apparition that reached into the centre of his being drawing him to her. Even if he had wanted to move away from her, he couldn’t have. While his mouth and hands touched her, his legs felt the same as the immovable Canadian Shield beneath him.

And so they stood there, beside the lapping lake under a moonless sky, the dancing lights having faded, sharing kisses and touches first slowly, then more erratically as they revealed new parts of their bodies to each other. He long ago had dropped the towel that had warmed him, for he no longer needed the outside warmth. She had undone the belt to her long robe which he then removed from her shoulders and let fall on the ground. They stood there facing each other. He couldn’t believe that a woman could be so magnificent, that her satiny skin could give off a radiance that made him crave just for a touch of her.

She took his hand, leading him to a grassy knoll not far from the rocky lakefront, and kneeling down on the grass, pulled him to her. He obeyed. In the darkness, they joined together, the only sounds their husky moans of satisfaction, their cries of pleasure, the laughter of delight.

When they were sated, she lay in his arms as he stroked her dry hair and planted random kisses on the top of her head. Heedless of the hard rock beneath him, he dozed off for a short while and when he awoke, she was beginning to rise.

"Where are you going?" he asked, not wanting to let her go.

"It’s almost morning. I have to."

"No, please stay. Just a little longer."

"I can’t. I’ll turn into a pumpkin if I stay any longer." She bent over and placed a final kiss on his lips. "Good night, Prince Charming," she said and streaked into the sky.

"Who are you?" David whispered as he watched her silhouette disappear in the cold predawn air, and he shivered.

He reluctantly got up, dressed in the clothes he had so carelessly removed so long ago, picked up his towel and found the cloth belt of her robe lying on the ground. "Cinderella’s glass slipper," he said to the air around him. He brought it to his nose; it smelled of her freshness.

He got into the car heading for town, wondering if he would ever find his Cinderella and return her belt.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he drove into the local donut shop for a cup of coffee and a muffin. It wasn’t worth going home to sleep at 5:30 in the morning.

"Mornin’, Doc," said Sheila Johnson. "You’re up early, this morning."

"No, Sheila, I haven’t been to bed yet. Alice Kelly had her fourth son early this morning."

"Well then, Doc, the coffee’s on me. What else will ya have?"

"A blueberry muffin looks good and filling."

"Sure thing. They’re fresh outta the oven."

Sheila poured the coffee and placed a muffin in a bag.

David turned when he heard the door open. "Hey, Anna, how come you’re in so early this morning?" he asked his part-time boss.

"Hmmpff."

"Sheila, quick, a coffee for Anna before she bites all our heads off and gives us all parking tickets."

David was blessed with an infamous Anna scowl. He put his hands in front of him, palms outwards showing that he was backing off. The last thing he wanted this morning was to face Anna when she was in a nasty mood. He didn’t want anything to ruin his afterglow. Picking up his coffee and muffin, he headed out the door toward his clinic.

****************

tbc