Okay, you wanted a sequel, you got it.
The Newlywed Game: 1/2?
By Nan Smith
Previously:
Clark Kent opened his eyes and closed them quickly at the unbelievably bright light that leaked through the curtains of the hotel room. Over the hum of the air conditioner he could hear the distant sound of surf and the cries of sea birds. Somewhere Hawaiian music was playing from somebody's radio. He dropped back with a groan, one hand over his face. He'd never had a headache before but if this was what regular people felt like with one, then he was glad it was a rare occurrence for him. The bed in which he lay felt as if it were rocking like a ship at sea, and the room beyond his closed eyes seemed to be slowly revolving, and tilting unsteadily as it did so. Where was he and how had he gotten here? He lay still, grasping at the confused memories of the dreams that had been chasing themselves around in his head. Something about having married Lois, and flying them to Hawaii for their honeymoon ....
Beside him, a warm body was curled tightly to his side and he seemed to catch traces of the familiar scent of Lois's shampoo and the lilac cologne that she usually wore ...
Cautiously, he cracked an eyelid.
His first impression had been correct, he thought in dismay. And the person beside him was definitely Lois. She had her left arm crooked across her eyes and on the third finger of her left hand she wore a diamond engagement ring next to a band of gold.
Uh oh ...
Cautiously, he lifted his own left hand. There was a broad gold band on his third finger as well.
Oh boy ...
**********
I
Clark wished that he could shut off his super-hearing, which seemed to have taken on a will of its own. The music coming from the radio on the floor below cut off abruptly. A male voice said, "Brenda! If you plan on making it to the para-sailing place on time, we'd better get going! We're going to miss the boat!"
"I'm almost ready!" a woman's voice responded. "Just a minute while I get my sunscreen on!"
"If we're too late, it's not my fault!" the man's voice said clearly.
"Okay! Okay!" A pause. "All right; let's go!"
Clark didn’t make the mistake of opening his eyes again. The brilliant light from the tropical sun that was leaking through the crack between the curtains made sharp pains shoot through his pounding skull every time the curtains shifted in the breeze from the air conditioner. He crooked his arm across his eyes to block out the light.
The conversation that his super-hearing had picked up wasn't a bit reassuring. Clark lay still while he attempted to piece together the vague, dreamlike memories of the events that had led to the situation in which he now found himself.
The last clear memory he had, he discovered as he searched back through the foggy impressions of the last couple of days, was of the Metropolis private airport. Lois had kissed him, completely without resistance on his part. And it had been a spectacular kiss.
After that, his memories became less clear. He vaguely recalled being upset about something, and flying off to the Arctic for a long, cold swim. By itself, that wasn’t so unusual. He’d been known to do that occasionally, anyhow. But something else had happened, for now he was here in a very nice hotel room, in what was manifestly not Metropolis, with Lois, and neither one of them was wearing a stitch of clothing. As a matter of fact, the only item of apparel –- if you could call it that -- that he had on was the wedding ring. The conclusions that he could draw from that led in only one direction.
Lois groaned faintly. “Clark?” she whispered.
“Yes?’ he answered automatically.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Uh ....” He hesitated and then decided that honesty was not only the best policy, it was probably the only policy that stood a chance of not getting him killed. “I think we’re in Hawaii,” he said. “Do you have any idea how we got here?”
A faint moan answered him. Lois hadn’t removed the arm that was over her eyes. “I feel awful,” she groaned. “What on Earth did I drink last night?”
“I don’t feel so good, either.” He attempted to lower his arm, but the brightness of the light that smote his burning eyeballs made him wince and crook it across his face again. He had never felt this bad, he thought, even when he had encountered Kryptonite. He lay still, listening to the sound of the air conditioner and wishing he had the courage to get out of the bed, close that crack in the curtains and get himself a drink of water. He’d never felt so thirsty in his life. It didn’t occur to him for several more minutes that Lois was reacting rather oddly to the fact that she was here, in bed with him and that neither of them was wearing so much as a handkerchief. If she felt so sick that the circumstance had no effect on her, then she was worse off than he was.
“Lois? Are you all right?” he asked, finally.
“No,” she grumbled. “And keep your voice down.”
Since he had spoken at a level barely above a whisper, he wasn’t sure how to answer her.
“What happened?” he finally settled on. “Do you know?”
“Sort of,” Lois mumbled. She didn’t remove her arm from over her eyes. “It must have been Miranda's pheromone. I wondered why you didn’t react to it the first time. But the 100% stuff got even you.”
Uh oh.
“What happened after that?”
“I kissed you at the airport. I must have picked up a little of the pheromone from you. The last thing I remember clearly was leaving the newsroom, intending to go to your place.”
Double uh-oh.
“Anything else?”
“Sort of. Don’t you remember anything?”
“Maybe. Kind of.” Clark cast back into his jumbled memories. The headache and the general unsteadiness of his stomach made it hard to think. He had gone to the Arctic right after capturing Miranda, he recalled. Lois had been the reason. He’d decided to present himself to her as Superman. That was it. Then he’d gone back to Metropolis, to the Daily Planet, and asked Perry about her ...
“You were at my apartment,” he said.
“Yeah,” Lois mumbled. “Can’t this wait until the headache goes away?”
“Is this what you felt like when you came out of the pheromone in my apartment?”
“Yeah. Shut up, will you?”
“Okay.” Clark gave up the effort and allowed himself to drift. Going back to sleep wasn’t an option while his head was splitting like this but gradually he was beginning to piece together the sequence of events. There had been that dream of Lois saying to him that she loved Superman but she loved Clark, too. That was when he’d told her that he was both.
He had to restrain a groan of despair. Lois knew and it was obvious that she remembered that part. Was that why she was reacting like this? Because she knew he was Superman?
But she’d told Superman that she loved him *and* Clark. Would that hold, now that the pheromone was wearing off? -- Actually, he guessed, it had pretty much worn off. Like him, she was dealing with the after effects. At least she hadn’t kicked him out of the bed, but what were they going to do now?
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be married to Lois. That had been his ultimate goal almost since he had met her. But, up until her encounter with Miranda’s pheromone, he’d just about decided that, at best, he was her work partner and that she was completely indifferent to him as a man or, at worst, that she regarded him with contempt.
But then, Dr. Friedman had told them that the pheromone wasn’t effective without some attraction in the first place. So she was attracted to Clark Kent. But did she love him?
“So, Superman,” Lois’s voice said. “I guess you want to divorce me, don’t you?”
*What?* He lowered his arm, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through his head, and turned to look at her. Her arm was still across her eyes, but he could see moisture leaking down the side of her face. Lois was crying.
“You don’t love me anymore, do you? It was just the pheromone. It doesn’t matter that I told you that I love you – as both Clark and Superman. You didn’t –“
“Lois, no!” he said, appalled. Suddenly the questions that he had been obsessing over were unimportant. “Don’t cry!”
“I’m not crying!” Anyone else would have believed her, but he caught the little hitch in her voice.
“Of course not,” he said, quickly. “You never cry.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice tight. “I won’t contest it.”
He swallowed. “Is that what *you* want?” he asked. “Now that you know who I really am?”
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
Aware that he needed to tread carefully, he hesitated. Her heart was beating fast. Lois was more upset than she was willing to let him know. “I mean, you don’t want to be married to Clark Kent, do you?”
“I don’t want to be married to someone that doesn’t want to be married to me!” she burst out. “None of it was real, was it?” she sat up suddenly, swung her feet to the floor and started toward the door that must lead to the bathroom. The sudden change in position must have been too much, for she reeled almost at once and started to fall. Clark was out of the bed instantly and caught her before she hit the floor.
“Hey, take it easy!”
She rested her head against his arm as he swung her back onto the bed and, as an afterthought, pulled the sheet over her. The motion set his own head swimming and the pounding behind his eyes intensified, but he forced himself to ignore it. Where were his clothes?
He spotted them a moment later, lying scattered carelessly on the floor. Lois’s were similarly strewn about. Evidently they had been in quite a hurry to lose their clothing when they had checked in here. If Lois felt in any way how he felt about her, he pretty much knew why, but the memory remained cloudy. That figured.
Quickly, he grabbed his underwear and slipped them on before Lois regained her equilibrium. He sat down beside her, telling himself that what she saw at this point hardly mattered, considering what must have already happened.
“Lois,” he said, before she could speak, “do you think I’d marry someone -- even under the influence of the pheromone -- if I didn’t want to?”
“You weren’t responsible for what you did,” Lois said. “I don’t blame you.”
“Yes, but I’d blame myself,” he said. “I married you because I wanted to. Because --“ He took a deep breath. “Because I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. Remember what Dr. Friedman said: the pheromone doesn’t work unless there’s attraction there in the first place. There was more than attraction for me. But my question is: what do *you* want -- now that you know that Superman is only Clark Kent?”
She didn’t try to hide the tears this time. “I told Superman I loved both him and Clark. Don’t you remember?”
“Kind of,” he said. “I remember bits and pieces.”
“I’m starting to remember some of it,” Lois said. “Just like I did before. Maybe a little faster than the first time.”
“Well,” Clark said, “I’ll tell you what." He slid one hand under the sheet and took her hand. "Why don’t we wait until we both feel better -- and until our memories are a little clearer. I don’t want to make any life-changing decisions while I feel like my head’s about to explode. What do you think?”
She scrubbed at her wet cheeks. “Okay. Maybe we should get some aspirin. I had a bottle in my purse. Did I bring it along?”
“I think you must have. We couldn't have gotten married without the right identification. Just a minute -- I see it.” Clark got up carefully and crossed the room to where Lois’s purse lay by the door. He retrieved it and brought it to her, and then decided that while he was up would be a good time to make sure the curtains were pulled tightly together. He didn’t want to get up again until the effects of the pheromone hangover went away. It wasn’t often that he envied ordinary people their frailties, but this was one of them. Aspirin might work for Lois but he was going to have to ride it out.
"Thanks," Lois's voice said as he excluded the beam of sunlight.
"Just a minute and I'll get you some water," Clark said. At least he could get a drink while he had the chance. His mouth was as dry as a desert.
Shortly, he returned to the big king-sized bed and handed Lois her glass of ice water.
"Don't you want one?" Lois asked.
"Aspirin doesn't affect me," Clark said. He pulled on his slacks and lay down on top of the covers. "I'm just going to have to wait until it goes away. It's starting to feel better -- after I got a drink."
"Oh," Lois said. "I never figured I'd feel sorry for Superman." She paused. "Except when they were trying to run you out of Metropolis."
"And you saved me that time," he said.
"And you left," Lois said accusingly. "I didn't know who I missed more -- you or Superman."
"You didn't?" Clark was stunned. He'd known she was glad to see him when he returned but she'd never told him that.
"No." Lois gulped down the aspirin. "Of course now I understand why. I guess I couldn't love one side of you without loving the other -- even if I didn't know it."
"Yeah." Clark reached out a hand to touch her arm. "As soon as we're over the hangover, why don't we go out and just have a little fun together? We don't have to make any decisions yet."
"Shouldn't we call Perry?"
Clark shrugged. "I feel like playing hooky, and I suspect we've been gone long enough that another day isn't going to matter. Besides, this is important."
"How long *have* we been gone?"
He closed his eyes, scanning the area for news reports. After a moment he opened them again. "It's been nearly three days. I guess the 100% formula took longer to wear off of me -- and the diluted stuff probably was stronger than the 2% formula, so it took you longer, too."
"It sounds like whatever we do, Perry's going to have a fit," Lois said. "We might as well get our money's worth."
"That's how I feel," Clark said. He closed his eyes. "Do you mind if I try to get a little sleep?"
"Go ahead," Lois said. "It will probably make you feel better."
**********
tbc
