A/N: a response to Picture Challenge #1

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“I can't believe they're reporters!” Lois exclaimed as soon as he entered the room, picking up their conversation from last night. Clark had thought he'd done a good job of distracting her from the subject then, but apparently not good enough: the moving boxes scattered around the living room of their latest residence testified to her agitation as she launched her one-woman mission of unpacking everything right now.

Clark smiled and shook his head as he reached into one of the boxes beside her. “If anything, Honey, I thought you'd be more disbelieving of the part about H.G. Wells.”

She snorted. “If anything in that story makes sense, it's the idea that a guy who wrote about a time-machine might well have made a real one. Throw in that sci-fi stuff about how time-travel implies alternate time-lines, and there you go.” She unwrapped a stack of plates and set them on the increasingly-cluttered coffee table.

“But us being reporters in another life is where you draw the line?” His fingers found the case containing his grandfather's medals from World War Two. He gently lifted it out, his gaze lingering on the Distinguished Service Cross. For just a moment, he could remember sitting on Papa Kent's boney knees, watching the light in the old man's eyes brighten as he re-told the story so vividly that Clark could practically hear the roar of airplanes...

“Oh, it's way past the line, Kent!” His wife's voice cut into his reverie, and he gingerly set the case aside. She turned to face him, still holding a partially-wrapped glass. “Can you honestly imagine someone with a secret like yours willingly walking into a building full of reporters? Those people can't even keep their mouths shut if life, death, and national security are on the line!” She went to set the glass on the table, only to let out a frustrated growl when she realized it was already overflowing with unpacked dishes and knick-knacks. She settled for thrusting the glass at Clark and ripping the tape off another box.

“Lois...”

Packing peanuts flew every which way. “And her! Can you picture me in *any* universe as a dainty, high-heeled civilian who spends all day writing about which politician was caught in bed with which celebrity?” She sat back on her heels, unconsciously rubbing the scar on her leg. “I'll bet the other you was the story of her career!”

Clark grinned. “You think she caught him with a politician?” he teased. She smacked him on the chest, and he caught her hand and held it. “Lois, I don't know what the deal is with that universe, but...”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “But?”

“I find it very telling that even in such a strange alternate reality, they still found each other.” His other hand glided up her arm and finally cupped her cheek. “*We* still found each other.” His voice grew husky. “Now, we have about an hour before we need to be at the base. Do you really want to spend it worrying about the goings on in another world that we'll probably never see?”

She smiled. “Fraternizing with an officer, Kent? I'll have you know there are rules about that sort of thing!”

“Oh? Tell me about these rules,” he murmured against her lips.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, mouth opening in silent invitation...

...And then they heard a sharp pounding on the door. “Major Kent? Major Lane?”

Clark sighed, recognizing the voice. “Just a minute, Captain!”

“Do you think they have one of *him*, too?” Lois muttered.

“I don't know,” Clark said, helping her to her feet, “but somehow, it wouldn't surprise me.”


The End


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