I start to get out of bed and a wave of dizziness hits me. Oh, I sit back down, better move slow. After a few seconds, I try standing up again, successfully this time, and I head for the door. That’s when I see him. Clark.
He’s sitting in a chair in one corner of my bedroom, asleep. His head is resting against the wall next to him and there’s a blanket thrown across him.
This is so sweet, DJ. I love concerned and caring Clark.
It’s then that I realize - he saved me. Just like he always does. But, did he save me before... or... I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat. Or after? What had happened?
I close my eyes, reaching out with all my senses, trying to *feel* my body. I don’t feel like I’ve been harmed or...invaded. I think if that had really happened that I would know. I relax a little. He must have found me just after I passed out.
I love the way you are writing this. "Invaded"... what a good, tactful word to use. Many of those non-PG words are so strong that they are distracting you, making it hard for you to concentrate on the story.
Oh, and.... I'm
so relieved she wasn't invaded!!!
I walk up to him quietly, trying not to wake him. He looks exhausted. Does Superman really get tired? Well, maybe the exhaustion wasn’t so much from being tired, but from worry.
A small smile spreads across my face as I realize how much he cares about me, how much he worries about me. All irritation with him forgotten, I lean over and cautiously remove the glasses he purposefully left on his face before falling asleep.
So, so sweet. And I love it that she's taking off his glasses.
I watch his chest as it rises and falls. I look at the awkward way he had to sit in order to sleep in the chair. Why had he slept in this uncomfortable chair? He could have slept in the living room on one of the loveseats. Granted, they aren’t the most comfortable in the world, but it’s gotta be better than this.
Because, I tell myself, he wanted to be as close to me as possible, so that he could watch over me. Why didn’t he just lie next to me in bed? But even as I ask myself, I know the answer. Clark would never presume on me like that.
Totally adorable.
Had I really been planning to torture this man? Hound him, browbeat him into finally telling me his secret? This man who loves me, does everything he can to protect me?
I know now that I can’t go through with it. I’m still hurt, but I’m not angry, not any more. Deep down I know he has good reasons to hide his identity. He wouldn’t have any kind of life if people knew that he is Superman. He probably even rationalized not telling me by thinking he was protecting me somehow.
Aww, I love Lois's love for Clark here! But I think, and hope, that she realizes that even though Clark had excellent reasons to hide his identity from the world, he didn't really have a good reason to hide it from her. And he really has only rationalized his reasons for lying to her, to make himself feel better about it. Then again, the way she was confronting him - at work at that - didn't make it easy for him to come clean with her....
No, I’m not mad, but I still haven’t really come to grips with it, not completely. I mean here he is, Clark, my best friend with the promise of maybe so much more, and yet he’s the most powerful being on the planet, a hero to millions. How do you wrap your mind around that one?
Wow. Yes, good question, Lois.
I look down at the glasses I’m still holding in my hands. How did I never look past these and see him for who he really is? But maybe I had known who he *really* is all along. After all, he didn’t live his life as Superman. He lived, breathed, worked, and... loved, as Clark.
This is wonderful, DJ. It rings so true, too.
I feel a pang of guilt in my chest. He has always loved me as Clark, and I have time after time thrown myself at him as Superman, at the same time ignoring Clark. No wonder he hasn’t told me.
But here's where I don't agree with Lois - if Clark really loved her, he wouldn't have hidden such an immensely important aspect of himself from her. All right, yes, I don't question that he loved (and certainly still loves) her, but I'll never accept the suggestion that he kept his secret from her out of love or altruism.
And then there's the business of Lois's hair! I liked it and thought it worked well. But I was a little disappointed at this:
What a sicko! He had cut a chunk of my hair off and was going to keep it as a memento. Ugh! There had to be some kind of clinical name for a weirdo like that, a few names came to my mind, but none of them clinical.
Ehhh...not too many names at all, clinical or not, come to
my mind. Can't you enlighten me some time, DJ? You know I always need to improve my Enlgish vocabulary!
But now for some serious business:
He looks back up at me, smiling softly, but then his look changes to horror. He releases one hand from behind my waist and brings it up to his face; at the same time he looks at the object I have in my hand.
He reaches out to take them from me but I hold them up, out of his reach.
Since I've decided that I’m not going to torture him about this, I decide not to beat around the bush. “I don’t really think you need these anymore, at least not right now, do you...Superman?”
Good! Yes!!! That's the way to do it! Firm, kind, and not gloating or cruel!!!
A grimace shadows his face and he looks like he is preparing himself for a firing squad. I almost giggle. Well good, I might not still be mad at him, but I am glad to at least know he’s worried.
I love it that he's squirming!!!
But this is quietly shocking:
I handed the robbers over to the police but one of them had to be taken to the hospital for injuries.”
“Injuries? What happened to him?” I ask, curious.
Clark looks away from me and sits in silence for a few moments. “I injured him,” he says softly.
Superman, defender of truth and justice. Yet he really caused bodily harm to someone here, using his superior strength to injure that person. And why?
“What? How?”
When he begins talking, his voice is even softer than before. “It was the man who attacked you. When I found you and I saw what he had done to you, what he was trying to do, I...” he trails off.
Oh, wow. This was the theme of a brilliant story by Tank recently - that Superman can be pushed over the edge and commit the kind of violence he can't forgive himself for, the kind of violence he can't live with, if someone really, seriously hurts Lois Lane. I love it, too, that you tell us how soft Clark's voice is. His pain and fear comes through that much stronger when his voice is soft.
“Is he going to be okay?” To be honest, I’m not sure I even care, but I know he does. Superman stands for justice, and he never carries out that justice himself. I realize something; his feelings for me had pushed him over the edge.
“Yeah. He sustained a broken jaw and cheekbone where I punched him, and a couple of broken ribs when I threw him away from you and into the wall of the building next to us.”
Well, thank god the damage wasn't too serious, DJ.
And then this is again so adorable:
I don’t know what to do, what to say to him. I take his head in my hands and kiss him deeply. He responds, kissing me back, and wrapping his arms around me tightly. Then he draws away from my lips to rest the side of his head against my stomach. I run my hands through his hair and just allow him to hold me.
“Thank you, Clark,” I say, after a few moments. “Thank you for saving me. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but thank you.”
“Can I ask *you* something?”
“Anything,” I assure him.
“Why did you do that? Why did you take such a big risk like that?”
Good question, Clark.
I feel the embarrassment flush my cheeks. “Honestly?” I ask, and then I sigh. “Because I knew Superman was there, and I knew he would save me if anything went wrong. I already knew you were Superman. I figured with you there, nothing bad would happen.”
The pain I see in his face hurts me, deep down inside. “How could you think that?” he asks me. “What if I’d had to choose? What if it had meant someone else had gotten hurt, or died?”
This is very moving and emotional. I love it, DJ.
And this is very good, too:
He lets out a sigh. “Promise me that you won’t test me like that again, not on purpose. I won’t ask you to stop being the best reporter you can be, but please don’t take unnecessary risks, even if you know I’m there. Please. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d gotten there too late. That man, I might have...”
Your story is called Testing Grounds. How appropriate.
And this is very sweet - Clark and his fears and hangups:
“Why did you hide?”
“From you? I never really wanted to hide from you. I created Superman so I could have a life. The closer we became, the more I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how to get past the lie. I knew you’d be upset. Upset that I lied to you, and mad, and who knows what else. Are you?”
But this is where I will never really sympathize with Clark. He can't put on that suit and fly around rescuing people and still insist that he absolutely isn't Superman:
“I know, Lois, and I'm sorry for lying to you." He pauses and looks away from my face. I reach out and touch his face, turning him back to me, and he continues. "I wanted to know, I wanted to believe that you could love *me*, for just me...”
“I know, Clark. You wanted to know that I loved you and not the flashy guy in the red, yellow, and blue suit.
But the rest of this is adorable:
But I do. That *is* who I love.” Oh my god! Did I just really say that out loud? Yep, I did, and there’s no taking it back now. I’m not even sure I’d want to take it back, even if I could.
Clark doesn’t look like he believes what I just said either. I smile shyly at him through lowered lashes. “Oh god, um, I didn’t really mean to blurt it out like that. I’m sorry, it’s just that I...”
“I love you, too, Lois.” He captures my mouth in his in a long, slow, tender kiss.
Awww, so sweet.... And do I like this?
When he tries to break off the kiss I immediately seek his mouth in return, hungering for more. I taste the inside of his lips with my tongue. Oh, the scent of him is driving me wild. I can’t believe this is happening. I never would have thought in my wildest dreams that I would be here at this point in time, making out with Clark Kent.
I make small gasps between our lips as he runs his hands down my body, touching me softly, on my neck, my back, my thigh. We both get up, moving over to the more comfortable surface of the bed, kissing and touching one another.
Mmm-hmmm. Yep, I'd say I like this. And this:
Our breath is coming in short ragged bursts between kisses. I’m suddenly very glad I was able to brush my teeth this morning and freshen up. His hands continue their gentle exploration of my body, being careful not to touch any area even remotely questionable. What’s he waiting for? An invitation? Well yes, probably, knowing Clark.
I completely love the way Clark is waiting for an invitation!!! And this is adorable, too:
Do I want to give him an invitation? Yes, my body beckons, I do. Without breaking contact with his lips, I begin unbuttoning his shirt, feeling his muscular chest beneath my fingers as I move down from button to button. It wasn’t too long ago that I’d held one of his shirts in my hands, feeling myself aroused by the scent of the man on it, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Would I have believed that I’d be here now, with the real thing? Clark’s arms wrap around me, holding me, as his body coaxes me to lie back on the bed. He follows me down onto the soft, inviting surface.
Awwwwww!!!!
And this - I completely love the beginning of it, but for some reason, I'm not quite so wild about what happens then:
Oh god, where is this going? At what point do we stop? Do I even want it to stop? Is all of this too soon? I mean I love him, Clark, Superman, all of him, but are we ready for this? Every nerve ending in my body has begun to tingle, and my heart is beating so hard I think I can literally hear it pounding. No... That pounding sound isn’t my heart. It’s... Oh no, not now! The sound is the knocking of a fist on my front door. Ugh! What timing! Who could that possibly be?
Clark pulls away from me, trying to compose himself. He glances in the direction that my front door would be. “You should probably get that, it’s Jimmy.”
Gaaahhh! Do you realize that this wonderful story of yours is really a beautiful variation of a Tank story? There's Lois's haircut, Superman's fear that he'll destroy himself by killing people who hurt Lois, and then there's Jimmy in his most annoying mode. Did you know that Tank kills off Jimmy in very many of his stories? I'm very much against deathfic (No!!!! You don't say!!!!) so I'm glad you didn't kill Jimmy here, but still....
But this is adorable - Jimmy as Lois's would-be protector:
“Lois! Hi! How are you? Are you okay?” He has a worried look on his face which causes the irritation I’m feeling with him to ease.
“Yeah, Jimmy, I’m okay. Still a little light-headed.” Not really from the tranquilizer but I’m not about to tell him that. “But I’m feeling much better.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Never again, Lois. I’m never letting you talk me into staying put like that again, while you run off and get yourself into trouble.”
Yeah - I can just see Jimmy taking on those guys with their tranquillizers....
But - okay, I sort of want to strangle Jimmy here:
Clark had come walking up behind me while Jimmy and I were talking. Jimmy has an amazed look of disbelief on his face.
“CK? Did you spend the night here?”
Yeah, like that's any of your business, Jimmy!!! But finally the irritating cub photographer leaves, and Lois finds her way back into Clark's arms again...
This is a beautiful, lovely story, DJ. I really think you are getting better and better at this LnC fanfiction business!
Ann
More soon 
Thank you! Glad you loved it. I look forward to your extended comments... 
Does that mean you are coming back with more comments soon? Or you want me to write more soon? Hopefully both. 
Now, if only I was a wealthy woman who didn't have to work for a living and had more time...what's that you say? You mean this is supposed to be a *hobby*? Oh...
Hope he liked it.
