“Off with the jacket and the shirt,” she ordered. He’s just like Jason. A grown man as shy as a little boy when it comes to taking off his clothes. It’s a wonder we were able to make love.

I’m not feeling so good, actually,” Clark said. He shivered when she put her hand between his shoulder blades. He wasn’t sweating, but he was very warm – too warm, even for him. She took his wrist, searching for a pulse with the first two fingers of her hand.

“Like I didn’t know where Jason got it from,” she muttered to herself as she gave up on his wrist and sought out a pulse at his throat. All the color had gone out of his face. “What’s your normal resting heart rate?”

“Forty-five or so… why?”

“Because Richard’s right. You look like hell and I think you’re running a fever.”

“But that’s…” Clark started.

Lois looked at him with eyebrows raised, waiting for him to finish – Impossible?

“Um, that’s not good, is it?” he said instead.