TOC Epilogue Lois grounded him. Clark had always sort of known that. Meeting her for the first time had encouraged him to put down new roots after years of restless traveling. Whenever he faced a storm threatening to uproot him, it had always been her who'd convinced him to stand his ground instead of letting himself be blown over and start running again.
She was his anchor and his conscience. His heart belonged to her, always had and always would.
As they danced to soft music, he was more aware of that than ever before. She leaned into his embrace, her head rested on his shoulder, and her body moved with his. The aches and pains in his muscles and bones faded and he felt less tired than he had before.
Instead, he felt a deep sense of connection not only with her but also with himself that had eluded him ever since he'd returned to his own body.
Perhaps his missing powers were the reason he’d been still feeling off after the up and down of the past few days. Whenever he'd switched back into his own body, it had mostly been their presence confirming where and who he was. He’d depended on them, had used them to stay in his own body. It had taken the weight of a ship to anchor him enough that he'd been able to stay himself for more than a few minutes at a time.
But as he breathed in the soft scent of her perfume and felt the warmth of her hand in his, it was easier to banish Luthor’s shadow to the back of his mind where it belonged. Even without the familiar tingle of his powers rippling through him, even without the benefit of heightened senses, he was at ease. Everything about dancing with Lois felt so right.
He could do this forever and never grow tired. Suddenly, the mere prospect of having to let go of her even for a minute made him anxious. He feared that the doubts would creep back up on him if he left this cocoon of blissful happiness.
But he knew they eventually had to part. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. One song blended into another, and he moved them through the room. But her stomach growled, painfully reminding him that the safety of her arms around his shoulders couldn't last forever. He dipped his head and placed a kiss into her hair, drinking in her soft scent and pulled her yet a little closer. A pleasant shiver rushed through him, leaving him trembling. He heaved a wistful sigh.
Her hand stroked his arm. "Clark, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he rasped.
"Are you sure?" Her gaze was full of concern as she looked up at him. "You’re trembling. If this is too much, we can do this another time."
He shook his head. "I'm fine."
Lois didn't look convinced. He opened his lips to explain what was going through his mind, but words failed him. His cheeks flushed and a deep sense of embarrassment washed over him. How could he explain to her why he was suddenly so clingy? The last time she’d been with him like this, or thought she’d been with him – after all it had been Luthor inside his body – what if he’d acted much the same way, what if this would bring back all those bad memories?
Clark didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her and how her presence made everything so much better. But how could he do that without sounding like a creep?
“Clark, do you think I can’t tell that you’re dead on your feet?” she whispered.
He bit his lip. “It’s not that.”
Inwardly, he cringed, because that was a bit of a lie and he’d vowed to never lie to her again. He was tired. His whole body ached and reminded him with every move that he was still far from being recovered. But now that she was with him, he couldn’t imagine kissing her good night to spend the next few hours in his apartment alone with his demons.
Her lower lip quivered slightly as she watched him. He could tell that she didn’t want to leave him either. An expression of guilt flashed across her features as she seemed to wrestle with a decision.
“Please stay.” He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along her soft skin. “I need this just as much as you do. I need you.” Her stomach growled again and so did his. “Besides, we’re both hungry. So let’s get us something to eat.”
He took her hand in his and pulled her toward the kitchen. She followed him reluctantly. As he felt her resistance, he let go of her hand and turned toward her.
He frowned. “Is something wrong?”
His stomach dropped. Had he misinterpreted the signs? Was he indeed being too clingy? Did she need time to feel comfortable around him despite her insistence that she trusted him?
She hung her head. “I just can’t help the feeling that you’re putting on a brave face for my sake and that—"
“Is absolutely not true,” he emphasized. “You’re right, I am tired. But ever since you came here, I’ve been feeling more at ease than…" He took a deep breath and threw up his hands. “I don’t know…ever I guess. You know everything there is to know about me and still you’re here. Since I’m back in my own body, I’ve been feeling off, as if it doesn’t really belong to me, as if something about it is different. And I was beginning to doubt myself. But when you touched me that feeling went away.”
“Oh, Clark,” she whispered. Tears glistened in her eyes and she took a step toward him.
“Don’t leave me tonight,” he begged. “Let’s cook together and have this date and chase away Luthor’s shadow. I believe we both need this.”
He held out his hand and she took it. “Okay, we’ll cook. But only if you’ll let me help.”
Clark grinned at her. “You want to cook? Are you the real Lois Lane?”
She shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything. But you’ll have to teach me.”
Lois leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, then she pulled him with her toward the kitchen. He followed her, feeling dazed. How was it possible that she seemed to know exactly what he needed? It was unsettling to experience her caring side as Clark, when before she’d only ever shown that kind of thoughtfulness around Superman. Once more it dawned on him that she knew his secret now, that she knew him beyond the roles he played in both his guises.
Still reeling with that realization, Clark went through the usual routine of preparing dinner. He took out two pots and placed a chopping board on his kitchen counter. He fetched an onion, garlic, tomatoes, and peppers. But as he got ready to chop them, Lois laid a hand on his.
“Let me do this,” she said quietly. “I can handle the chopping, I only need some help with the part that requires actual cooking.”
His throat was dry and he felt a deep blush on his cheeks. He bit his lip and lowered his gaze, not quite daring to look her in the eyes. Would she consider him too intense? Would she understand his need for contact, even if he couldn’t bring himself to tell her exactly how much he needed her touch right now?
Hoarsely he whispered, “Would you mind, if we did this together?”
She looked up at him and a smile played around her lips before she shook her head. “I’d love that.”
Clark couldn’t help it. He held his breath as he laid his arms around her and placed his hands on hers. Warmth rushed through him and that same incredible sense of well-being that had swept him off his feet ever since she’d stepped through his door. Together, they started slicing the onion and Clark let out a deep sigh of contentment, resting his chin on her shoulder. This was the way it was supposed to be. No frayed nerves, no pressure, just her reassuring presence and a sudden confidence that despite all odds, he had her trust.
A light chuckle escaped her and she leaned back against his chest. “You know, I never thought that there might be anything romantic about cooking. But you’re just about to convince me otherwise.”
He smiled into her shoulder. “Just wait till we get to stirring the sauce.”
She let go of the knife and turned in his arms. Before he knew it, her lips were on his in a long, hungry kiss. His breath caught and he melted into her tender embrace. As their tongue merged into a dance old as time, all remaining tension left his body, taking the aches and pains that had ailed him earlier with them.
Everything was going to be fine.
They were going to be fine.
All it took was a little trust in each other.
The EndComments
