I was going to post this for Annie's birthday tomorrow, but she's had a lousy day and I thought she might appreciate it being early.
I hope tomorrow is a much better day for you, Annie!
Table of Contents Comments ~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark's steady footsteps crunched crisply on the snow-covered sidewalk. His winter overcoat was languishing in Brussels, but the other pedestrians were hurrying along, their heads ducked protectively against the bitter wind, no one sparing a glance for the man abroad in a thin sports jacket. Still, Clark huddled his arms around himself as though the cold were bothering him.
He didn't hurry, though. He couldn't, in all conscience, delay the moment of truth with Lois any longer; but he wasn't looking forward to it. And he had a nasty feeling that it might be the last conversation he would have with her for a very long time.
"You can get your shower now." She'd spoken the words with a complete lack of intonation, giving him no clues to what she'd been thinking. The fact that she hadn't raised her voice, however, indicated that she'd known very well he hadn't gone far. The only question was whether she'd guessed the whole thing, or simply thought that Superman used Clark's shower on occasion.
The fact that she'd walked straight out of the apartment without stopping to water the ficus suggested the former. Why else would she be so upset?
The ficus! He'd forgotten to water the poor thing, too! For a moment Clark was on the verge of swinging round and hurrying back to his apartment; then he grimaced, recognising it as a delaying tactic. Another hour wouldn't kill the ficus.
He came to a halt opposite Lois's apartment block and looked up at her windows. Just over a year ago, he'd sat here all night to protect Lois from a cold-blooded killer. Now he'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. Grabbing his courage with both hands, Clark crossed the street and made his way up to Lois's front door.
He half expected to be greeted at the door with a flood of angry recriminations, but to his surprise, Lois let him in without a word. Her face was pale, though, and she refused to meet his eyes as she stood well back to avoid touching him on his way through the door. His heart sank.
She finished fiddling with the door locks and turned towards him. Her gaze flickered here and there before settling on his shoes. "I suppose Superman flew to Brussels to get you?"
Clark had already opened his mouth to seize the excuse before his brain caught up with him. He closed his mouth and swallowed. If he made one false move tonight - if he told any more lies, if he failed to satisfy Lois on any point - they were history. Even if she hadn't already guessed the whole, and he wouldn't have bet a penny on the chances of that, when she found out later that he'd deceived her now she'd be livid. And rightly so.
He opened his mouth again. It was dry. "No, Lois," he said quietly.
The heavens didn't open up and rain fire and brimstone on the earth. The ground didn't crack and spew forth the armies of the apocalypse. The lights did dim a little, and there was a roaring noise in his ears, but Clark vaguely suspected that was more to do with himself than with the world around him.
When his vision cleared, Lois was looking at him for the first time. There was more colour in her cheeks, but her eyes looked almost terrified. As soon as he met her gaze, though, it flicked away. "Would you like some coffee?" There was a tremor in her voice.
Clark longed to step forward, draw her into his arms, and soothe her fears away; but the tension in Lois's stance warned him that trying anything of the sort would be a horrible mistake. Not that any of her Tai Kwon Do moves were likely to hurt him, but they might well land her in hospital with a broken limb or two.
Instead, he tried to project an air of comfortable friendship. "Why don't you sit down, and I'll get the coffee? I know where everything is," he added as she opened her mouth to refuse.
She gave in, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as she moved to a couch and sat down. His heart thumping painfully at the tiny victory, Clark headed for the kitchen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lois pulled her knees up in front of her and clasped her arms around them, trying to stop the trembling. It felt as though the ice and snow outside had crept into her heart.
Even after it had struck her like a thunderbolt, standing there in Clark's apartment, what the superhero had been doing there - even after she'd somehow managed to drive herself home, without being aware of a particle of her surroundings - she'd still hoped that Superman would arrive to tell her she'd just been jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Or, better yet, that Superman would bring Clark, and they could laugh together over her overactive imagination and then pick up where that kiss had left off at the airport.
Instead Clark had arrived alone, looking grave and concerned, and making no attempt to pretend it wasn't true. And kissing was right off the agenda.
So how dared he look so unreasonably attractive, in his inadequate jacket, without even a scarf, and his hair tousled by the wind like a little boy's? Even after everything he'd done to her, she'd still had to fight off the impulse to fling herself into those muscular arms.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, instead of staying out of the room long enough for her to collect herself, here he was, barely seconds after he'd entered the kitchen, already back and folding himself onto the loveseat opposite hers. From behind him came the familiar coughing of the filter machine.
"Finished already - are you showing off?" she said waspishly. She regretted the flash of temper instantly. After all, Clark hadn't had to come here to talk; he could have ignored what she'd said and simply flown back to Europe. And from the way he'd looked after he'd tacitly admitted to being Superman, he wasn't finding this any easier than she was.
But before she'd worked up the courage to apologise, Clark sighed. "Lois, if I were trying to show off, I'd bring you freshly ground coffee from Vienna."
Lois closed her eyes as the concept of flitting across the Atlantic for a drink sank in. "Coffee from Vienna," she echoed. "Croissants from a little French bakery. Chinese takeout from... Beijing?"
"Shanghai, mostly." She didn't look at his face, but his tightly clasped hands whitened.
She buried her face in her knees, her hair swinging forward in a curtain. "Oh God, I'm so stupid," she muttered under her breath.
He caught it, of course. "Lois, you shouldn't blame yourself," he said urgently. "You saw what you were meant to see. Nobody was supposed to guess that an ordinary reporter -"
She shook her head sharply. "No, Clark. I, of all people, should have known..."
To her relief, he didn't pursue that. "What gave me away?" he ventured after another pause.
She lifted her head and tucked her hair behind one ear, working it out. "You weren't behaving like Superman at all. You came rushing in... I didn't catch what you said, but why should Superman care what I was yelling about in Clark's apartment? And then when I pointed out the poor plant, he... you... looked positively guilty."
"It's difficult to keep track," he said in what was probably meant to be a reassuring tone. "I usually talk about him - Superman - in the third person."
She hunched a disgusted shoulder, feeling her mouth compressing into a thin line. How could he talk so casually about his deceitfulness? She swallowed to make sure her voice was under control before continuing. "Of course, I still didn't put two and two together until you rushed out with that flimsy excuse. It was just so... Clark."
"It was either that or make up more lies. I hated lying to you, Lois."
This time it was pure rage that spilled over. Lois sat up straight and swung her head round to glare at him. "How can you say that, Clark? You lie to me every day! You've lied to me ever since I first met you! I'd started to think, these past months, that I'd finally found a man I could trust -" Her voice wobbled, but she controlled it through sheer effort of will. "- and now I find you've been deceiving me, Perry, everyone, all along. You're no better than Lex!"
His face had grown whiter and whiter during her tirade; at her last words his mouth gaped in shock, but then his eyes narrowed angrily. "I'm not a thief or a murderer, Lois! All I am is Superman - you know, that flashy hero in the Spandex, that you idolise?"
"Not any more!" she spat back, but her anger was draining away, leaving depression in its wake. She shouldn't have made that crack about Lex; but it didn't change the fact that she couldn't trust Clark any more. She turned her face away from him again towards the nearby window, studying the curtain fabric as if she'd never seen it before.
"I thought Superman was above lying," she said wearily. "And I thought Clark was completely honest, too. How am I supposed to know what you are now?"
"Lois, I swear to you -"
"No!" He sounded exactly like her father, caught in another tawdry affair, swearing to her mother it would never happen again. She wrapped her arms defensively around herself. "Please don't swear anything."
"But Lois, I -"
The hissing and spluttering from the kitchen had ceased. "Will you get the coffee, or shall I?"
He didn't move. After a moment he spoke in a low tone. "Lois, I came here to apologise for what I've put you through, and to answer any questions you might have. So far, you haven't listened to a word I've said. Maybe I should just go."
Cold panic gripped her at the thought. It was true, she wasn't giving him a fair hearing; but what was the point when she couldn't trust what he said?
So why was she aghast at the thought of him leaving?
Because deep down, she was desperate to believe him. If she couldn't turn the clock back so that tonight had never happened, so that Clark and Superman were their comfortable, distinct selves, then she needed Clark to explain what he'd done so that it made sense.
She drew a deep, painful breath. "Please stay," she said in a small voice.
He got to his feet. For a moment there was a feather-light touch on her shoulder; then he turned and headed for the kitchen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark took his time pouring the coffee. He'd been crazy to use super-speed to fill the machine; he could only suppose he really had been trying to show off. What an idiot he was!
Lois's reaction was even worse than he'd feared. He'd expected her to be angry, to yell at him, throw things, maybe kick him out of the apartment with instructions never to return. He hadn't expected her to sit there, chalk-white, looking as ill as she had during those dreadful days when every issue of every newspaper had had fresh revelations of Luthor's villainy.
He should have known she'd take it like this. Her confidence had always been low where men were concerned, and Luthor had wrecked it completely. That was why he'd taken back his declaration of love after the wedding, so he would be allowed close enough to help her back onto her feet; that was why he'd taken such pains to keep his feelings a well-guarded secret until at last she'd seemed ready to meet him halfway. Now, in a moment of blind stupidity, he'd ruined everything.
And yet... she'd asked him to stay. Maybe there was still hope.
He carried the coffee mugs through to the living room. Lois's tight, defensive posture had relaxed slightly and there was a hint of colour in her cheeks. She murmured her thanks as he handed her one of the mugs.
He seated himself opposite her again and cradled his mug in his hands, careful not to drink too early. After a while, he broke the silence.
"Lois, I'm sorry I've hurt you. I hated lying to you, and I sw... I meant to tell you myself."
"Why didn't you, Clark? Oh, I know why you didn't at first..." She looked down at her mug. "When we first met, I wouldn't have cared about wrecking your life if it earned me a Pulitzer. And then... I was really mean to you, always picking on you and insulting you... comparing you to Superman..."
She shot a glance full of humiliated apology at him and then focused on her coffee again, blowing on it and taking a few careful sips. Clark followed her lead, giving her time to compose herself.
There was raw pain in her voice when she continued. "But later, Clark, when we'd become friends... how could you let me go on believing a lie?"
"By then, you were dating Luthor. If he'd ever found out..." He hesitated. It wasn't the whole reason, of course; his greatest fear had been that she would transfer her Superman crush to him. Should he say that?
But the moment had passed; Lois was speaking again. "You think I'd have told him?" Clark winced, half expecting another angry tirade, but instead he was shocked to see tears pooling in her eyes. "Maybe I would have," she muttered. "But that was months ago, Clark - what about last summer, when you helped me pick up the pieces after Lex? I told you practically my whole life story - I never dreamed you were concealing yours!"
"Lois, you know my life story - most of it..."
"And what about when you were shot?" she said, ignoring his words. The tears were spilling down her cheeks now. "You let me think you were dead, Clark! For a whole night and a day, I thought I'd lost you!"
He reached out a hand, but she turned away to yank a tissue out of the box on a nearby table and bury her face in it.
"That was the worst mistake I ever made," he said humbly. "I never realised you'd be so upset -"
"Clark!" Her horrified face emerged from the tissue to stare at him. "What sort of heartless monster do you think I am? My partner gets shot right in front of me - not just my partner, but my best friend and -" She came to a sudden stop, then ploughed on. "And you thought I wouldn't be upset?"
"Lois, I know I was a complete fool," he pleaded. "I didn't think at all - I just ran away. As far as I could see, Clark was dead; my job at the Planet, my friends, my opportunity to work with you, spend time with you - all gone! I didn't see the point of telling you I was alive when I wasn't. There was only Superman left."
She was watching him carefully. "
Only Superman?"
He closed his eyes. Of course, she still thought Superman was the better part of the deal. "I'm Clark," he said. "I won't pretend Superman isn't important - he lets me help people without losing my privacy - but he's just a cartoon character I play. No sense of humour, no friends, no feelings. Everything that makes life worthwhile belongs to Clark."
He opened his eyes again. She was still watching him carefully; he felt as though she could see right into his soul, spy out all his failings and inadequacies. He met her gaze as bravely as he could manage. "I never meant to hurt you by what I did or said," he said earnestly. "But I did, and I'm sorry. I've only ever lied to you about one thing; I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
"Only one thing?" she said slowly. "You told me, that day I took you to LNN, that you loved me. Then, after Lex... after all that, you took it back. You said you'd have done anything to stop me marrying Lex."
He swallowed hard. She seemed determined to wring the last ounce of truth out of him. "Lois, I -"
But she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "But you didn't."
"Didn't what?" His head whirled as he cast about in vain for the thread of the conversation.
"If you'd really been willing to do anything, you'd have jumped at the chance I gave you as Superman. I'd have rejected Lex in an instant... Instead, you rejected me."
He grimaced painfully and set down his mug carefully before he could damage it. "Lois, I regret practically everything I said that day. Especially the crack about your robe. I hope you know I'd never... But you'd already told me you didn't care for me in that way, and then you'd asked to see Superman... I wasn't exactly thinking too clearly." In spite of his efforts to control it, his voice had roughened. "And then you said..."
She looked shaken by the feelings he was revealing. "Said what? That I'd love you even if you were an ordinary man?"
He flinched at the memory, then nodded, not trusting his voice any further.
"But it was true," she said quietly.
It was his turn to gape at her incredulously.
"I did love both of you," she continued, looking awkwardly down at her hands. "That's why I should have known you were the same person. But I wouldn't admit, even to myself, that I loved two different men - that would have made me some sort of pervert. So I thought I could compromise - have Clark as my partner and best friend, and Superman as my boyfriend. You wrecked my plans completely, that day... Superman wouldn't have me, and Clark wouldn't work with me. And he wasn't even a safe friend any more. So I accepted Lex's proposal instead. It took me weeks - right up until the morning of my wedding -" She paused and moistened her lips. "- to realise that I couldn't live without you." She lifted her head and met his eyes at last. There was a strange mixture of emotions in her eyes - love and fear, hope and doubt. "Clark you. That's why I said 'I can't' at the altar."
He was still staring at her, frozen, hardly willing to trust his ears. Was that why she'd always refused to talk about her near-wedding? "You did?" he blurted out. "You turned him down? Lois -"
She shrugged, looking away again, her expression bleak. He'd disappointed her somehow. "It doesn't matter any more."
He switched couches to sit beside her, reaching out for one of her hands. "It matters to me! Lois, you must know how long I've been hoping that one day you'd love me the way I love you!"
She sighed, drawing her hand away and crossing her arms defensively. "I don't know what to think any more, Clark. I do know that you told at least one lie, that day when you took back what you said about loving me. So what I need to work out is..." She looked down at her lap. "... whether you're an ordinary guy who just happens to have lied about two huge, important issues; or whether you're the sort of shallow charmer who just tells any story that suits him at the time."
The sheer unfairness of it took his breath away. It was several seconds before he managed to speak. "You want to know if I'm a pathological liar?" She nodded. "Lois, you've known me for nearly two years now. We spent last summer practically glued together at the hip! You
must know I'm not like that!"
Her voice was quiet, but deadly serious. "I thought I did know you, Clark... until tonight, when I discovered how completely wrong I was. I thought I knew Lex, too - I was so confident that I nearly married him. I can't risk any more hideous mistakes, Clark. This time I have to know for sure."
"You want to be sure I'm not like Luthor," he said slowly. The thought still hurt, but he knew Lois's distrust was directed more at her own judgement than at him. He paused, then went on deliberately, "Or Claude." Her pulse rate climbed a notch as she inclined her head. "Or your father." This time she winced. "You know, Lois, I do understand. But if you can't believe what I say... I don't know how I can convince you. I guess you're going to have to look at what I've done, not what I've said."
"That sounds like something Lex would have said," Lois whispered wretchedly, and Clark gasped. It felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. With Kryptonite.
"Lois, you know that's unfair!" he said hotly. "Did
I manipulate you into marrying me by destroying everything you care about? You said it yourself - I could have used Superman to dazzle you into turning Luthor down, but I didn't! I didn't even use him to convince you Luthor was evil - even though I knew you'd believe
him without any proof!"
He caught himself before he could go any further. Lois was hunched into herself, her head turned away from him. Was she scared of what he might do in a fit of anger? And how was it that just one person, just this one small package of fiery, obstinate brilliance, could bring him so close to losing the iron self-control he'd built up so carefully over the years? He heaved himself to his feet, away from her, and paced up and down the living room, waiting for his head to clear.
The worst of it was, she was right. Luthor had always taken pains to cover his tracks with what appeared to be lavish philanthropy. If Lois had ever taken Clark's suspicions seriously enough to question Luthor about them, Clark could picture the wily billionaire exhorting her to look at what he had done, not what people might say about him.
Clark stopped pacing with a sigh, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Lois was watching him again, her eyes shadowed; at least she didn't show any signs of fear as he walked slowly back towards her. He dropped into a crouch beside her, so that he wasn't looming threateningly over her, and drew a deep breath.
"Lois... if I can't convince you that I'm speaking the truth... that I'm serious about loving you... well, I'll just have to prove myself by my actions. I've waited a long time for you to give me a chance; I can wait longer if I have to. But first, I want you to know exactly how I feel."
He paused, and tentatively reached for her hands; this time she allowed him to take them. He held them gently between his and raised his eyes to hers, hoping that she would be able to see the strength of his feelings there. "I have loved you ever since I first met you. I haven't always treated you the way I should; I didn't tell you my most important secret, and I seem to recall tipping you into a dumpster once, and I guess I annoyed you in other ways, too. And I didn't tell you I loved you, because you didn't seem ready to hear it. But I tried to watch over you and protect you as best I could, both as Clark and as Superman. I don't just want you for myself; I want you to be happy, even if that means you're not with me. But my love for you has never stopped growing stronger and deeper. I love you with all my heart, Lois Lane; I think I always will."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His eyes, full of love and hope, were searching hers. Lois was so tempted just to give in, to accept his words at face value and surrender herself to the tide of delirious joy. But the more eloquently he spoke, the more his words tugged at her heartstrings, the deeper grew her fear that they were just that... words, designed to ensnare her and put her at his mercy.
Lex's betrayal had dented her pride and damaged her self-esteem, but it had left her heart untouched. Clark, on the other hand... if he ever betrayed her, Lois knew her heart would never recover.
She had to be sure.
But she couldn't prevent her face softening, and as her expression changed he smiled hesitantly at her. "Do you remember telling me, right back when we were investigating the Messenger disaster, that I shouldn't fall for you, because you didn't have time for it? You were way too late, you know. I fell for you the minute you stormed into my interview with Perry."
He'd loved her ever since then? There was something wrong with that picture. Lois frowned as she worked out what it was. "But you weren't in love with me when we were sprayed by that Miranda woman... oh. You weren't affected. Of course."
He nodded. "You have no idea just how hard it was not to respond to you. But I knew if I took advantage of you, you'd never speak to me again."
She could feel herself blushing. "And afterwards - when Superman kissed me...?"
He looked suddenly guilty. "That wasn't the spray, either - that was all me. But I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't kissed me first..."
And Lois could remember every instant of that nerve-tingling, toe-curling kiss. The memory had kept her warm on many a lonely night as she'd grappled with her irrational desire for Superman. If Clark had felt like that about her, and had still resisted what she'd been so blatantly offering...
"You didn't try to take advantage of the situation when we were on stakeout at the Lexor, either," she said, remembering. She'd half expected him to; any other male of her acquaintance would have done. She'd even, in a moment of madness - or perhaps a moment of unusual clarity? - packed a sexy, silky nightdress for the stay, just in case... She'd been horrified at herself afterwards. When she'd gone back later for a night on her own, she'd packed her thickest flannel pyjamas.
Clark was obviously remembering, too; his eyes had darkened and he was breathing faster. Lois thought he'd never looked sexier. "And you didn't make it easy," he growled. "It was bad enough with you in the next room, in that enormous bed, wearing only your pyjamas - but when I came in to wake you, and they were on the floor..." He shook his head and looked away, obviously trying to get himself under control.
And suddenly, Lois didn't want him to. Suddenly, finally, she was sure. It all fitted together; he was no saint, but he'd always done his best to behave honourably - even in the face of extreme provocation.
She freed one of her hands from his grasp and lifted it to his face. "Clark..."
He nuzzled his cheek into her palm, closing his eyes for an instant, then focused on her face. The yearning in his eyes was transformed into joy as he read the emotions that must have been plain to see - her aching love for him and, at last, her trust.
"I'm sorry I've hurt you so," she said huskily. "I shouldn't have doubted you..."
He shook his head, hitching himself onto the seat beside her and gathering her into his arms. She laid her head against his broad, familiar chest, feeling her fear draining away to be replaced by a different sort of tension... a nervous anticipation.
"I know it was a lot to take in," his voice rumbled under her ear. "I'm just grateful that you were willing to hear me out. And even if you've forgiven me for lying to you... I'm not sure you've even started on what it means that I'm Superman as well as Clark."
"Or on all the things you need to forgive me for... I've been a lousy friend to you."
His arms tightened. "Lois, you don't need to beat yourself up -"
She shook her head. "Oh, I think I do. But maybe not right away..." His arms around her were starting to arouse delicious sensations in her. She was remembering the way his eyes had darkened earlier, and her heart was starting to pound giddily. She lifted her head to meet his enquiring gaze. "First, we have some other unfinished business."
"We do?" His eyebrows were soaring.
"We do," she said firmly. Her hand left his face to slip round the back of his neck. "You kissed me goodbye at the airport last night, if you remember, but it was a rather half-hearted job." Her fingers threaded themselves through his thick, soft hair. "I've been thinking about it since then... rather a lot, in fact... and I feel you could do much better."
She finished on a breathless note; Clark was grinning broadly, and his hands were beginning to move in the most delightful way against her back. "I'll try not to disappoint you this time," he said as he lowered his face to hers.
The moment their lips touched, the rest of the world disappeared. Lois's whole body seemed to be melting; she couldn't get enough of his taste, his touch, the feeling of his body against hers. When they finally separated and came up for air, Lois found herself sprawled on top of Clark in a most indecorous fashion; one hand was wound deeply into his hair, and the other had somehow found its way inside the back of his shirt. His hands had also done their share of straying, it seemed. Lois should have been alarmed or embarrassed; instead, she had never felt happier or more comfortable.
"So that's why you never minded sitting on my loveseats," she murmured once her breathing had quietened. "Invulnerable rear end... very useful."
Clark chuckled. "I assure you, even invulnerability doesn't save me from these monsters. What does help is being able to levitate."
She propped herself on one elbow to look around. It was true; he'd hooked one ankle under the armrest, presumably to stop them floating away, but most of the rest of him was cushioned on an inch or two of air.
She rolled back to look into his face. His glasses had vanished at some point, and he looked unfamiliar, a strange mixture of Clark and Superman. She explored his face with her eyes and fingers, loving the feel of his soft skin and the faint rasp of whiskers over his chin. As she passed her fingers over his lips, he caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss into her palm.
"I missed you so badly today," she said suddenly. "You didn't even call from the hotel after work."
"I didn't really want to speak to you at your desk. I was planning to call you after I'd finished my patrol. I figured I could call from home, save a few bucks - if I was careful to wait a couple of seconds every time I started to speak, you'd never know it wasn't a satellite connection..."
She laughed. "You're incorrigible, aren't you?" she said fondly, playing with the tousled waves of hair around his forehead.
"But I don't have to lie to you any longer," he said, his eyes suddenly serious. "You don't know what a relief that is! And I can see you every night, even while I'm in Europe. If you'll let me, that is..."
She pretended to think it over. "Only if we can do this every night," she said, and he grinned. "But don't you need to get some sleep? It's already, what, three in the morning in Brussels?"
He shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "I don't need much sleep. And I'd want to do my usual patrol over here, anyway." He paused, then added reminiscently, "It's funny... I usually can't sleep on planes, but that cushion you gave me really worked. You seemed so close to me while I was using it... I could almost smell your perfume..."
Lois smiled enigmatically. One day she'd tell him what she'd done... but not tonight.
"Lois..." He traced her cheek with a gentle finger. "If I patrol early tomorrow night... can I take you out for dinner afterwards? We could go anywhere you like - Paris, Rome, Rio..."
She grinned at him in amusement. "Showing off, Kent?" she teased.
He laughed. "Trying to impress my girl, you mean?" She nodded even as her smile slipped; thinking of herself as Clark's "girl" was giving her an odd feeling inside. "Strange as it seems, no... What I really want is to share my world with you, Lois. To show you some of what it's like to be me. My parents know, but they don't really understand. I want you to understand."
"Oh, Clark." She blinked away the tears that were threatening to gather. Her insides seemed to have melted completely. "Venice. With a gondola ride and everything."
He drew her closer and kissed her brow. "You drive a hard bargain," he said, but she could hear the emotion beneath the light words. He knew she'd accepted more than just a dinner date.
She sat up reluctantly, wriggling back onto the couch as he followed suit. She didn't want to let go of Clark, but he still needed to finish his patrol and then get some sleep. And besides... "Clark, I have a confession to make," she said guiltily. "You know your ficus... well, I forgot to water it before I left your apartment. I guess I had something else on my mind."
He nodded. "I know." At her look he added defensively, "I wasn't spying on you! I was stuck out there on the balcony, listening. You have
no idea what it's like, wondering if you're going to have to perform a major rescue, maybe even get your picture in the morning papers, wearing tomato ketchup. So," he continued over her giggles, "I realised you hadn't watered it. But I forgot to do it after my shower, too. Guess I also had something on my mind." He lifted a hand to smooth her hair back from her face, tucking it behind one ear. "Guess I'd better go and do that now."
"Guess you had," she agreed mournfully. "At least this time I know you'll be back tomorrow."
He leant forward to kiss her again. This one wasn't much longer than their previous goodbye kiss, but it was infinitely more satisfying, and both of them were breathing hard when it ended.
Clark fished beneath the couch to retrieve his glasses, then stood up and moved towards the window. He paused to catch her eye before whirling suddenly into a flash of colours that resolved itself into Superman. He grinned cockily at the stunned expression on her face. "Now
that's showing off," he observed with satisfaction.
Then he floated to the window and was gone, leaving only the promise floating on the air behind him.
"Till tomorrow."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Epilogue
Self quivered blissfully. Even self's rootlets were squirming with joy as they felt the delightful, squishy soil around them in place of the hard, dry sand they'd been enduring for days.
The water had arrived in time. Tomorrow, self would be able to lift self's leaves towards the cool, indirect sunlight that entered this dwelling during the day, and begin to make food again. And if the human started to water self regularly, self would soon be able to put forth new branches to replace the ones self had had to sacrifice to the drought.
There was only one thing preventing self's complete contentment.
The large human had returned, this time smelling of flowers, just like the smaller human. It had given self a long, wonderful drink... but then, in spite of the fact that it was still dressed in the clicky boots and the swirly shoulder garment, it had sat down on the sofa. It was still there, in fact, though many minutes had passed. Every so often, it would sigh or chuckle slightly and then whisper, "Oh, Lois..."
Which was fine, as far as it went. Self didn't begrudge the human its evident happiness.
But a poor plant had no means of blocking its auditory receptors from unwanted sounds. Self could only hope the human would leave the dwelling soon - perhaps to go "on patrol"? Because if that tuneless, off-key humming didn't stop soon, self wouldn't be accountable for self's actions...
The End.
