TOC This story is definately rated PG13 for sexual undertones. It's really nothing more than you'd see on Friends or some other show on TV today, but read at your own risk.
AKA Clark Kent Part 2
After she had changed into her warmest set of pajamas, Lois came back downstairs and snuggled up in the corner of the couch, wrapping herself in a large, warm afghan. If she wasn't going to have an exciting, sexy night, she was going to opt for comfort and warmth. She fully intended to stay up until Clark got home and ambush him when he flew through the window. At this point, she didn't need to be dressed in anything sexy to entice him. It had been so long since they'd been together; he would undoubtedly be ready to ravage her even if she was wearing a paper bag. Maybe she should abandon the seduction idea and opt for the paper bag option.
She grabbed the remote control and flipped through the channels, subconsciously wondering if the charity softball game was going to be televised. If she couldn't spend the night with her husband, at least she would hopefully be able to watch him. It almost made her feel more involved.
With over four-hundred channels, there was a good probability this game would be on one of them. Channel forty-four looked promising; it was running some sort of celebrity event. When the familiar blue and red flashed across the screen, Lois put the remote control down and settled more comfortably into the couch. Clark's jacket was lying on the floor, so Lois picked it up and wrapped it around herself. Even though her night was ruined, at least she could feel close to him, even if they weren't together.
These ruined nights were coming more frequently. Before she had decided to marry him, Lois had realized that being married to Superman would be difficult. They would never be truly alone. She would always be required to share him with the world. But knowing and accepting were two different things. Superman belonged to the world, but Clark Kent was *hers*. Sometimes, she had trouble accepting that Clark belonged to the world as well. Clark was *her* husband.
But he had been Superman first.
Couldn't she be selfish sometimes and want him for herself? Didn't she have that right as his wife?
She wasn't exactly mad at him for leaving -- she knew and accepted why he had left. It was more a sense of painful tension escalated to a boiling point. Of course there was sexual frustration, but there was a deeper pain as well.
She was angry with Superman. There, she admitted it. Superman kept coming between them, always invading their privacy at the most inopportune times. The reality of being married to both Clark and Superman was beginning to wear at her nerves. She wanted to spend time with Clark, but Superman always had something else to do.
She needed to stop thinking of her husband as two people.
But he really *was* two distinct people -- Clark *and* Superman. They both had full, distinct lives.
She loved both parts of him. They melded together seamlessly to create the man she had fallen in love with.
He had two separate lives, and she wasn't exactly sure where she fit.
Tonight wasn't the first time he had left her like this. Just two nights ago, they had been ready for bed when Clark remembered Superman had promised to attend a hospital reopening in New Zealand. And she couldn't protest that. After all, the charities Superman chose to help were very worthy and deserved his help.
Her husband wasn't leaving her, but it did cause them to be separated. There wasn't any way she could go with him to most events without having to come up with some kind of wild explanation. If the functions were in Metropolis, she could cover them for the Daily Planet even though she didn't work for the society desk, but for oversees functions there was just no explanation for her presence.
Right now, she was frustrated, sexually repressed, and missed her husband desperately.
She felt abandoned and excluded.
Clark had a whole other life. And she felt almost jealous of it. No*was* jealous, and angry. She was so mad that it hurt. No, not mad, frustrated. She just wanted to spend one uninterrupted evening with her husband, no strings attached. Was that too much to ask for?
She was so angry with Superman, but the more she thought about it, her anger faded. Unfortunately, she couldn't hold a grudge against him. It was funny how love worked. When she thought about what he had done and how he had left her, she knew she should be angry with him. Yet she was already starting to forgive him.
His gift was flying while hers was staying angry. He still had his gift, but hers had changed. Yes, she still could hold a grudge, but not against her husband. What had happened to impartiality? She used to be an equal opportunity begrudger.
Her love was so strong; it displaced her anger almost immediately. Stupid love!
She could let him believe that in his absence, her anger had festered for a few hours and had morphed into a horrible rage. And maybe she would be able to get something out of this. If he believed she was mad at him, he would do almost anything she asked to make her happy. She could take this opportunity to extract some promises from him before she could let him know that she had completely forgiven him.
No, she couldn’t really force him to promise anything. She couldn't take a bargaining table approach to marriage. It was something her mother would do. Very early in her relationship with Clark, she had promised herself she would never turn into her mother. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought.
Now she was trying to control Clark just like her mother had tried to control her father.
To this day, Lois was sure that her mother's behavior had played a large role in her father's infidelity and eventual desertion.
She didn't want that to happen to her marriage -- not that Clark was anything like her father.
The last thing she wanted was lose Clark. Even though he made her crazy at times like this, he was still the best thing that had ever happened to her. She loved him with every cell in her body -- ached in his absence, delighted in his presence.
Poor Clark would be beating himself up over this. He had to hurt just as much as she did.
She knew what to expect from the whole thing. He had probably set a punishment for himself.
Groveling, well, that was a given. Clark could grovel with the best of them. He was an absolute pro. And this offense definitely warranted many hours of groveling. And dinners from all over the world -- China, Italy, France, Japan, she could think of enough countries to keep him busy for a while -- he could probably think of even more.
Maybe she could ask him for the dinner in Australia he had promised her so long ago. They'd share a beautiful, romantic dinner at the tiny restaurant they had been to many times overlooking the beautiful Sydney harbor.
She didn't care where they were, as long as they were together.
If he could give Lois the right to block out whole areas of his time as "Lois time" . . .
They needed some minimal amount of time together, and she wasn't above penciling it into his calendar every week. No, every day.
She was incredibly desperate. But she couldn't force him to spend time with her. He had to want it, too.
Maybe he'd volunteer to be her sex slave for a month. Clark was just as desperate as she was.
As she mulled over her plans, her eyelids began to droop. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep curled up in the corner of the couch under Clark's jacket, dreaming of an unforgettable night alone with her husband.
**********
After the softball game, Clark zipped cross country, eager to get home. The game hadn't even been fun. It paled in comparison to even the imagined picture of the night he had missed at home.
The game had been horrible! He hadn't had any fun.
In fact, players and spectators alike had probably realized how unhappy he was. He obviously didn't want to be there. Every time he had called someone "out" at the plate, he couldn't help but add under his breath, "If I can't score tonight, no one will!" Hopefully no one had heard him -- he didn't want it to show up in all the morning tabloids.
He loved helping worthy charities as Superman, but he would much rather spend this time with his wife.
Ribbon cuttings, softball games, hospital visits, and other charity events allowed him to see the good in people. As Superman, he so often only saw the bad, the evil things humanity could do, that it was very refreshing to see people helping each other. It renewed his faith in the world.
But Lois could do the same thing for him. She sustained him. Without her, Superman wouldn't exist. Lois was his life, his love, his world. So why had he left her high and dry for the second time this week?
What must she be feeling?
Hurt, anger, frustration, desperation, loneliness, rejection, or something even worse!
What an idiot! How could he have done something like this to her?
She shouldn't have to share him with the world.
Clark had promised himself that he would never make Lois suffer. He was sure that he had broken that promise. Superman had come between them, had driven them apart.
If he knew Lois Lane, and he was sure he did, she was livid. He didn't relish the thought of facing her wrath, but he knew he deserved every ounce of it. She would probably make him do some sort of penance as reparation for the emotional damage he had inflicted.
He deserved anything she could do to him and then some.
He wasn't sure if Lois realized it, but he secretly loved her little punishments. The last one, she had made him her sex slave for a week. Like he was going to protest that! Really! He was happy to oblige.
He was desperate. The pain had reached a fevored pitch. It had been eight days, thirteen hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds since they had last made love. With every second, the tension mounted. He was going to explode.
Maybe Lois was still awake . . . and not too mad at him.
He was probably hoping for a miracle. Even if she was awake, would she want him? She was probably so mad at him she wouldn't want to see him, let alone make hot, passionate love to him.
If she was asleep, would she mind if he woke her? This was an emergency and Superman needed help.
He flew through their bedroom window, expecting to see Lois curled up in bed fast asleep. His pessimistic side had already accepted the fact that she likely hadn't waited up. It was almost 3am; he couldn't have expected her to stay up that long. They'd been up early that morning to go to work. She had to be exhausted.
When he saw their empty bed, his heart raced. Maybe she *had* managed to wait up for him!
He zipped downstairs to look for her. By the dim light of the flickering television, he saw Lois's small body curled up in the corner of the couch. His heart fluttered at the sight of his wife wrapped up in his suit jacket. She'd been thinking about him after he had left.
His heart sank. She had missed him so badly that she sought comfort from his jacket to feel close to him. It was all his fault; he had made her suffer.
Lois looked like a sleeping angel curled up in her little corner of the couch. As much as he desperately wanted to end their drought tonight, he didn't have the heart to wake her.
He was a jerk. How could he think of himself and his needs at a time like this?
A better man would try to make his wife happy at all times. But Clark, the Superhusband, had done nothing but cause her pain. It had never been intentional, but he couldn't help but hate himself.
How had it come to this? Superman was alienating him from the woman he loved. He couldn't help but hate that piece of himself.
He softly picked Lois up off the couch and kissed her softly, lovingly hoping to portray his sorrow. As he floated up the stairs to keep from disturbing her, her eyelids fluttered and her eyes opened.
"I love you, Clark," she whispered groggily.
Clark smiled at her and planted a soft, loving kiss on her forehead. "I love you, too, Lois. So much more than you'll ever know." As he set her down on the bed, he kissed her again and said, "You deserve so much better than me."
Lois rolled over in bed and whispered, "I chose you, Clark. I love you."
**********
In the middle of the virtually deserted maze of desks that made up the secretarial pool at Diticom Technologies, one woman sat alone reading a magazine with Superman on the cover. Her desk was a gaudily decorated virtual shrine to Superman, with every collectable imaginable -- even a plush doll. The cubicle’s walls were lined with news clippings, tabloid articles, and even photographs taken from afar.
The tall, blonde woman reclined in the chair, allowing her eyes to gaze longingly at the pictures of her hero, imagining what it would be like to have Superman cradle her in his large, strong arms, what it would be like to be kissed by those soft lips. . .
Sighing dramatically, she pulled the largest picture off the cubicle and gazed into his large, expressive eyes. He was the world's most perfect being. Those abs, that smile, that hair, that tight suit leaving almost nothing to the imagination . . . He was a veritable god!.
She kissed the cold, smooth, glossy photograph. "Mmm, Superman, baby! You're amazing."
"You're still on that Superman kick?" another woman, who had come up behind her, asked. The older woman shook her head disdainfully. "Really, aren't you over him yet?"
"Doris, I'll never get *over* my future husband." Penny shook her head dismissively. No one understood that Superman wasn’t just an obsession for her. He was a prize she would win.
Doris shook her head again. "Oh, Penny, don't you think you should let go of that illusion and start looking for a real man?"
Penny whirled around in her chair to glare at Doris. That was absolute blasphemy! "*Superman* is as real as they come!"
"Penny, honey, you're chasing an idle fantasy."
"Superman is no fantasy -- he's my reality." Penny tossed her hair behind her shoulder flippantly. Doris had no idea what she was talking about.
"Don’t you think it's time to abandon that youthful idea? You're pretty, smart, educated -- honey, any man would melt into a puddle just looking at you."
"And if that's true, Superman would too." Penny was getting sick of arguing with her co-worker. Doris -- like everyone else -- just didn't get it.
"Okay, how are you going to meet him? Stage an accident?"
"No, of course not. I have a *much* better plan," Penny said. Like she would stage an accident! As if! That was something an amateur would do!
"Oh, do you? *This* I'd like to hear." The older woman shook her head incredulously.
Penny rolled her eyes. "It's a *secret*. I'm not about to go around telling everyone my top secret plan!"
"You're insane."
"Blissfully insane, Doris. We'll see who's insane when I'm married to Superman." Penny stared at the older woman, hoping her cryptic answers would pacify her friend. The truth was, she didn't really have a solid plan. Now she knew she needed one -- and was going to come up with it tonight. She had thought about staging an accident to make Superman come to her, but how would that set her apart from the millions of other women who did the same thing? She needed a hook, something to make him fall for her completely.
"But, Penny, how are you planning to meet him?"
"I *told* you, Doris, it's a secret!"
"Okay then, Penny. You keep your illusion alive. I'm outta here."
"Okay, bye." Good riddance. She smiled and added, "See you tomorrow."
She was sure of one thing -- underneath all that spandex, Superman was a red-blooded American male. He had needs, feelings, and desires no different from any ordinary man. And she would be the one to satisfy all of his worldly desires. It was a monumental task, but she was definitely up for the job.
*********
This is the first A plot I've ever written, so I would really appreciate any comments and criticism
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-Laura aka Alicia
