Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Future Arrangements 1/1

Title: Future Arrangements

Summary: Finding out her future includes a far more intimate relationship with Superman would be a dream come true for Lois Lane... That is, if she hadn’t also found out she’d be married to Clark Kent.
Or: Lois goes time-traveling with H. G. Wells and sees something she really shouldn't have.

Author's notes:
1. English isn’t my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. I'm still getting used to how dialogue is formatted in English-language fiction, so I'm open to corrections regarding grammar, layout, and such.
2. Sorry not sorry for not really caring about the time travel rules of this series :P
3. This is my first FoLC/Clois fanfic, I hope you guys like it. Also, I posted my first edit a few days ago. Check it out: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSmFevgMB/



You have to accept the strange, the unusual, and the seemingly impossible when it’s staring you right in the face.

Superman, for instance, was one of those things. Before his first appearance, it was inconceivable to believe a man could fly or lift a rocket with his bare hands. If anyone had predicted it would happen, they would’ve been called crazy at the very least. Now, Superman was a real-life hero for children across the planet, and a near-guaranteed source of rescue in Metropolis. For the media, the novelty had long since worn off. After all, everything in life is a matter of adaptation.

But for Lois Lane — who stood trembling, struggling to lean against a wall in some alley off Edington Street — it would be hard to accept, let alone get used to, the fact that she had just had a vision of the future.

***

“Ms. Lane? Are you all right?”

Lois blinked and looked at the short, bespectacled man staring at her. H.G. Wells, as he had introduced himself, and the strange open-topped two-seater vehicle was his famous time machine. At first, she had laughed and called him crazy when he had found her and told her his story. According to him, an imp from the fifth dimension had swapped several details of her past just for fun, and so she had to travel through time with him to fix the mistakes before they caused some kind of crazy butterfly effect in the future. It was madness, and of course Lois wasn’t going to give a damn about an old man larping a dead writer; after all, he was certainly retired if he spent his time on that kind of game, and she had a lot to do at the Daily Planet. It was when she turned on her heel that he begged her to let him show her and let her decide if he was delusional or not. Lois sat beside him in the supposed machine, ready to yell for Superman at the first sign of a kidnapper emerging from behind the cans and trash bags, but she was definitely not ready for what followed.

Lois was convinced, in the end, that the little man was telling the truth. They traveled through several moments of her life: Lucy’s birth, the time she had broken her arm trying to climb down a tree, her first day working as a waitress at J&A Flavors, her high school graduation speech, her first Kerth. After fixing the mess in each scenario caused by the imp, Lois — that was too shocked to really doubt anything — asked why the damn creature had chosen to mess with her, of all people; and Wells’s evasive reply only made her more suspicious. Anyway, Lois decided not to think about it, and when Wells sat in the machine, he pressed some button he definitely shouldn’t have, because then the strangest thing of all happened.

Suddenly, she was alone in a house she’d never been in before.

“Mr. Wells?” She turned, looking for someone. Had she been sent to another event from her past? No, she had no memory of this house whatsoever. So where was she?

Swallowing hard, Lois turned to survey the room she was in. A living room. Neat, though not impeccable — a handful of papers scattered across the coffee table betrayed recent occupation. She picked up one of the papers, an electricity bill, and read the address: 348 Hyperion Avenue. The homeowner was Clark Kent.

If this was Clark’s house, then this could only be the future, considering she knew his current apartment all too well. And, while Lois was quite fond of her partner’s current place, she had to admit he had made — or rather, would make — an excellent deal with this new one. From what she could see, it was quite spacious and cozy, and it must have been well-lit during the day.

The furniture wasn’t half bad either, and not a single surface held a layer of dust, she confirmed after running a finger over the TV stand. For a single man, he was fairly organized. Or is he…?

Lois’s eyes were drawn to a woman’s portrait beside the TV. Afraid of discovering something unpleasant, like poor Clark had let himself be seduced by some unprincipled bleach-blonde, she was stunned to recognize herself in the picture. Right next to it was another portrait, featuring the two of them at the Daily Planet, smiling and looking at each other. They were clearly happy. The photo beside that was obviously from their wedding day.

Trembling, Lois raised her left hand and gasped at the sight of a ring on her fourth finger. When had that gotten there? Her shoes and the suit she was wearing were different too. Even her hair seemed slightly longer. Was she in her future self’s body?

In a future where Clark Kent was her husband?

Desperate, she rummaged through the coffee table. Investigation notes and story drafts in both their handwritings, hers and his. Some bills in Clark’s name, others in hers. As if she couldn’t believe it, Lois turned back to the portraits by the TV. There were a few with Jimmy and Perry, even Cat, one with Jonathan and Martha, and several of just the two of them. But she couldn’t help picking up the Daily Planet photo one more time. She swallowed hard. The look in Clark’s eyes could only be described as utterly smitten.

Lois heard a whoosh at the window, then footsteps. She only had time to put the portrait back on the shelf when a muscular body hugged her from behind.

“Miss me, honey?”

Honey? Clark called her that? And she let him?

“Uh… Of course,” she replied, awkwardly, when she realized her future self wasn’t going to magically appear and take over the conversation.

The man behind her sighed. “Me too. You have no idea how much. Since we were interrupted this morning… I’ve been thinking about you all day.” His hands roamed over her body, and Lois forced herself to relax instead of tensing up like a stretched rubber band. It was then she noticed the arms wrapped around her were covered in blue spandex. Could it be…

“S-Superman?” Lois choked out.

She felt him smile against the curve of her neck. “Ah, feeling nostalgic for the early days today?” He nibbled her skin right there, and Lois melted into a shiver, impressed by how easily he disarmed her. Suddenly he turned and lifted her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs. Lois barely had time to register that it was indeed Superman, with hair gel, a flowing cape, the S on his chest and all, before he captured her in a breathtaking kiss.

Lois’s momentarily oxygen-deprived brain nudged her, as if something wasn’t quite right about this situation, but Superman kissed so well she could only bury her fingers in his soft hair and let out a small moan against his mouth. Unfortunately, she soon had to pull away for air.

He laughed. “Sorry, I always seem to forget you don’t have super breath.” He said always? Did they do this often? Was this a dream? Lois should pinch herself — though Superman was currently nipping at her neck and that hadn’t been enough to wake her up. “But you’re so beautiful. And this suit… you know I can’t resist that skirt.”

“I wore it thinking of you, Superman,” Lois said breathlessly, wanting to actively participate in this wonderful dream she was having.

Superman grinned mischievously, which was, in fact, a very strange sight, but Lois ignored her brain’s nudge once more. “How can I thank you for such consideration, Ms. Lane?” He laid her down on the bed, and she was so dizzy she hadn’t even realized they’d reached the bedroom.

Satisfied, Lois closed her eyes. She sighed and kept stroking the superhero’s hair as he kissed her collarbone. When she opened her eyes again, she found a piece of fabric printed with little chickens on the nightstand.

Ah, she knew what that was. A classic Clark Kent tie.

Lois’s delight was almost completely replaced by despair. She felt the light weight of the ring on her finger. If she was married to Clark, what was she doing clinging to Superman?

With herculean effort and her heart racing, she pushed Superman away from her, just a little, with a hand against that magnificent chest. “You…” She bit her lip, and had to force herself not to scream when his dark gaze followed the movement. “Have you seen Clark today?” It was a stupid question, but she didn’t know what else to do. What was happening here?

“Clark isn’t due back from Canada until tomorrow,” he replied, sounding smug. “I don’t think it’s right that he left you here alone, so I thought I’d keep you company.” He smiled as if this were an old inside joke between them, but Lois wasn’t getting it at all. “Do you think he’ll mind?” he asked, before returning to kiss her neck. Right at the moment his hand reached the first button of her blouse and Lois thought her heart would explode for several different reasons, everything around her seemed to implode and then actually explode in a millisecond.

“Whew, I lost you for a moment there!” H.G. Wells’s voice reached her through the fog in her head. “Good thing it was only a second, or you might have had to deal with some dinosaurs!” He laughed at his own joke. They were back in the alley off Edington Street, and a wobbly Lois stumbled out of the vehicle, desperate to breathe present-day air and get as far away as possible from the madness she had just witnessed.

“Ms. Lane? Are you all right? Ms. Lane? Ms. Lane, are you listening to me? Did something happen? Do you need to go to a hospital?”

Lois shook her head, fully returning to the present. She tried to steady her breathing and straightened up, now using just one hand to lean against the wall. “Yes. I mean, I’m fine. I don’t need a hospital.”

“If you’re sure…” Then the writer frowned. “In the second I hit the wrong button and lost you… you didn’t travel through time again, did you?”

“I — No! I mean, I was stuck in some sort of… uh… vacuum capsule for a few minutes,” she replied, hoping the lie was convincing enough. For some reason, Lois had the feeling that if he found out she had seen the future, he’d find a way to make her forget.

“Minutes? Oh, Ms. Lane, I am so sorry! That sometimes happens when I use the machine, it’s a space-time distortion…” Wells shook his head ruefully. “It must have been dreadful.”

“It was,” she croaked. She cleared her throat. “But I’m fine now. And, um, I need to go. I have to get back to the Planet. We… took too long on the… the trip?”

He smiled and pulled a watch from his pocket. “Oh, no. That’s the beauty of temporal distortion. You’ve only lost five minutes of your day.”

“Great! Good to know Perry won’t mince me into pieces, then.”

After more instructions about how Lois shouldn’t tell anyone what happened, along with effusive farewells and a short speech of gratitude, Mr. Wells let her go, professing his best wishes for her future. Lois, who had already seen a piece of that future, wasn’t sure she actually deserved such good wishes, and during her walk of shame back to the Daily Planet, she couldn’t reach any satisfactory conclusion about the scene she had lived through.

***

That was turning out to be a difficult month. During the day, she did her work with her usual excellence, sometimes pushing herself even harder; at night, she wondered how she’d become such a despicable person. When she spoke to Superman, she sounded restrained and distant; when she spoke to Clark, she tried to dodge his concerned looks and questions at every turn.

“Lois, what’s going on with you?” her partner asked once, after walking her home from the mechanic’s where they’d just left her car. “For weeks you’ve clearly been upset about something, and every time I try to talk about it, you change the subject.”

She feigned an impatient sigh as they climbed the last flight of stairs. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s nothing, Clark? You’re overthinking.”

“Was it me? Did I do something to upset you?”

“What? No!” They both stopped on the top step. Clark looked a little taken aback by her vehemence, and Lois scolded herself for the slip-up. Before he could point it out, she pressed on: “It can’t be your fault if nothing happened.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lois, I know you. You’ve been acting off for weeks. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Don’t deny it — you already know I won’t believe you. I can tell you’re not telling the truth.”

She looked away and decided to ignore him, stepping up onto the landing and focusing on fishing her apartment key out of her bag. Clark touched her wrist, but she shook him off and kept walking, though not before feeling her heart race. Her pounding pulse and her own footsteps were the only sounds she could hear, until Clark let out a sad sigh. Lois stopped with the key at the edge of the keyhole, feeling her heart crack open just a little.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have no choice but to think you hate me.”

Lois opened her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “That’s unfair! You’re trying to emotionally blackmail me!” Had he noticed how moved she was by his sadness? What a disgusting manipulator! She pushed the door open and flicked the light switch angrily.

“It’s not blackmail, I’m just telling you how I’ll feel!” Before Lois could retort, he went on: “Geez, Lois, I’m worried! There’s clearly something bothering you so much you barely want to talk or spend time with me! Aren’t we friends? And how are we supposed to stay that way if you can’t stand my presence anymore?”

She bit her lip and avoided his gaze. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. There are times you can’t even look at me.”

Lois steeled herself and faced him. He was right, of course, but she knew he couldn’t even begin to imagine the reasons for all of this. Over the past month, she hadn’t just sunk into self-loathing, she had also seethed at the worst injustice her partner had ever suffered at her hands. He didn’t deserve this! Not Clark Kent, the most understanding and sweetest person she had ever met, and one of the few decent men left on Earth. Every time he brought her coffee, stepped between her and danger, carried something heavy for her without even asking, or helped her into her coat, she felt as if a knife were being twisted in her chest and a million mosquito-sized honesty-fairies screamed “Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!” at her ears. The way he smiled at her after editing her text over her shoulder suddenly seemed different; every compliment or act of kindness from him that she had never paid attention to before now sounded different.

Once, when they had arranged to go for a run together, Lois’s shoelace came untied. She had barely finished complaining that the sneakers she’d bought on sale were surely counterfeit when he knelt down in front of her to retie it. Lois felt her words vanish and her eyes widen at the sight before her — Clark Kent on his knees. Is that how he would propose to her? She thought yes. Well, not on the filthy sidewalk of so-called Butcher Street, of course, but kneeling. Clark seemed like that kind of old-fashioned guy… a gentleman. But he would be wearing something nicer than that worn-out sweatsuit, and he’d have a simple, tasteful ring, and he’d look at her with nervous, hopeful eyes that would melt her from the inside out, and suddenly Lois didn’t know if she’d be able to refuse.

Oblivious to the existential crisis he had just caused, Clark stood up after tying the knot and innocently asked her if she wanted some water, as if he didn’t know he’d just turned her mind upside down. And he truly didn’t know, of course, but Lois wasn’t about to defend him for that.

Anyway, that was the day she decided to limit their interactions to the Daily Planet only.

Lois’s fingers tightened on her apartment door. “Clark, I already told you, it’s nothing you did,” she repeated through gritted teeth. “I just can’t tell you because I think… you might judge me. That’s all. It has nothing to do with you.”

It had been the wrong thing to say. “I won’t judge you. I promise. Scout’s honor.” Clark raised his hand in a scout’s salute and offered a faint smile, trying to convince her everything would be alright.

What would Clark think of her? The way he was, he might even say it was okay, that he understood her admiration — well, passion — for Superman... Or... What if he understood too well? Say, maybe even suggesting the three of them could... Oh, no. No. Absolutely not. Lois herself wouldn’t accept that, let alone him. She knew Clark had always been jealous of the superhero. His pride wouldn’t allow him to stoop that low, no matter what he might feel for her. And besides, what did he feel for her, anyway? Just fondness? A mild attraction? A stronger attraction? Something beyond attraction? It wouldn’t do any good to think too much about that, either. But for Clark’s sake, she hoped it wasn’t much. Barely anything. Almost nothing. Something easily forgettable. And that some bleach-blonde would show up in his life soon.

“I don’t know, I…” She sighed, wanting to end the exhausting conversation. She forced a smile. “I can’t tell you today, Clark. Maybe another day?”

Disappointed, he lowered his hand and nodded, looking very much like a abandoned puppy. Before Lois could regret it, she closed the door.

That same night, two very funny things happened: Lois opened an old, forgotten bottle of whiskey from the back of the cupboard, and Metropolis’s superhero came to visit.

“Superman, to what do I owe the honor?” She covered her mouth as soon as she noticed the sarcastic note in her own voice. It was true that she had spent long moments reliving his kisses and caresses, feeling her skin prickle and warm with longing, but one thing hadn’t escaped her perception: she wasn’t the only one at fault in that story. Clark might be her husband, but he was Superman’s closest friend, as far as Lois knew. In the future, they would both be horrible people. Lois would be like her father, slightly worse, in fact, because she would commit adultery in her own home; and Superman, the symbol of truth and justice, would sleep with his friend’s wife in the marital bed. And often, judging by the intimacy of his touch and the nerve to mock Clark himself! Do you think he’ll mind?

Superman gave her a strange look. “I, um, hadn’t seen you in a while and thought I’d check on you. Lois, are you drunk?”

“Drunk? No, it was just one glass. This is the second.” She laughed. “Want some?”

“No, thank you. I didn’t know you drank.”

“Only on special occasions. I sent a big story to Perry today. Woo-hoo.” She raised her glass in an imaginary toast and took a sip. “My mother did too.”

“Your mother also sent a big story to Mr. White today?”

“No, she also only drank on special occasions. Like when my father cheated on her.”

Superman took the glass from her hands. Lois was impressed by his boldness and offended that her joke hadn’t been appreciated.

“Lois. Are you okay?”

She blinked, taking a moment to appraise him lazily from head to toe. He really was quite the specimen of a man. What woman could resist? Could she, even as Clark’s wife? And if Clark married some unprincipled bleach-blonde — who, let’s be honest, could easily have more principles than Lois herself, given what she’d witnessed in the future — would he even really be safe? Maybe Superman didn’t even like her for real and only wanted her because she’d marry his friend. She knew many men acted that way just to prove their masculinity… Her own father had pulled a stunt like that with a coworker’s wife. It had been an ugly fight on their front porch between the two couples, and even though she and her sister had been locked in their room when it happened, they’d heard plenty of the argument. Lucy had soaked Lois’s entire shirt with tears and snot that day. It was a real pain to wash, because the washing machine had been broken for two months and their parents had other priorities at the time: Dad spent his money on his mistresses, and Mom, on alcohol. Luckily, Aunt Esther paid for the repair not long after. She also bought them a new toaster, which came in very handy.

And, well, if a normal man would do that, imagine one who was super? Of course, it had been Lois who’d nicknamed him that, now that she thought about it, but damn, she didn’t know what to expect from him anymore! After all, he would betray Clark’s trust.

“You don’t seem all right. Do you want to talk about it?” Superman squeezed her shoulder gently, a persuasive gesture. Lois wanted to burst into flames and throw herself at him and order him to never touch her again and also to never stop touching her.

“No,” she answered. He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he’d been certain she would want to talk to him. She tilted her head to study his expression. “Have you seen Clark?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he seemed petrified, and Lois took that as an affirmative response. Well, whatever.

“Do you believe we’re capable of honesty, Superman? Without capes, disguises, or…” She gestured dismissively. “… convenient moral codes?”

He kept staring at her, now looking like an abandoned puppy, just like Clark had when they’d said goodbye. Funny.

Suddenly, Lois blinked as sleep caught up to her with a yawn. She slowly got to her feet, refusing to stagger in front of the superhero. “I’m going to sleep.” On an impulse, she decided to cup his chin with her hand and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

As soon as she had settled under the covers and hugged the teddy bear from Smallville, she heard Superman move and take off into the sky.

***

The next morning brought a very unpleasant headache and the discovery that her whiskey bottle had disappeared. Lois made a mental note to tell Superman, the next time she saw him, that if he wanted some, he just had to ask. For the day, she decided she already had enough problems.

For example, what to do about Clark? After their conversation and his successful emotional blackmail, she realized that the longer she kept hiding her problem, the bigger and more overwhelming it grew. And Clark was indeed acting strange that day, avoiding her as much as possible and walking with his shoulders hunched, like a man who had lost a battle. Perry, on the other hand, was eager to fight and deploy everyone under his command to the front. Consequently, it was impossible for Lois to talk to her partner or even think about what she would do, which was a blessing under the circumstances.

Another day passed, and now it was the following morning. As everyone stood up after the morning briefing, during which they’d witnessed a heated argument between Ralph and Steve Lombard over which of them would cover the last handball game of the season, Lois had decided to approach Clark. He’d had the same idea, which almost made them collide in the middle of the rapidly emptying conference room.

“Hi,” he spoke first. “I think we need to talk.”

Even though she felt that line should have been hers, Lois agreed, and they arranged to meet at his place after work.

She decided to stop by the supermarket before the agreed time in search of an indulgence, and ended up leaving with Clark’s favorite chips and soda. When she arrived, he announced that he had bought Chinese food — from that same wonderful place he never revealed the location of — and that he had made a Belgian chocolate pie. Clearly, Lois wasn’t the only one trying to buy someone’s goodwill there, and she wondered what was driving her partner’s guilt. Had he really taken the accusation of emotional blackmail so much to heart?

After the delicious, abundant, and tense meal they shared on the sofa while pretending to listen to the radio Lois had turned on because she couldn’t stand the silence any longer, Clark announced he was going to get dessert. She followed him to help carry the leftovers and containers to the kitchen, which he protested, though unsuccessfully.

Once they’d finished putting the leftovers in the fridge, Clark busied himself with serving the pie, and Lois, with throwing what needed to go into the trash can.

“Could you scoot over a little? I need to get…”

“Oh, sure.” Lois shifted to the side and bent down to shove the last container into the nearly full trash bin. Then she stood up fast, and the corner of the cabinet Clark had just opened hit her forehead before she could process what had happened. She let out a pained exclamation.

“Lois!” Clark grabbed her shoulders immediately, stopping her from toppling over from the force of the impact. “Are you— You’re bleeding!”

“Bleeding?” She brought her fingers to the area just above her right temple, and they came away with just a trace of red. Trust Clark Kent to exaggerate even a scratch.

“Let me get a better look,” he asked, lightly touching her temple. Lois thought about pushing him away and telling him to find something else to do, but the memory of a similar occasion involving a bomb planted in the lobby of the Carlin Building stopped her. The injury from the blast impact had been in the same spot, and when Clark had shown concern back then, she’d been ruder than necessary. It was around the same time she’d stolen his story, by the way. Why hadn’t he given up on her yet? “Come on, let’s cover this.”

Lois let herself be led to Clark’s bed, where he indicated she should sit before going into the bathroom and returning with a small case. The mattress dipped in a more intimate way than it should have when he sat down beside her, their thighs touching lightly. She looked at the case, suddenly shy as she felt him clean her wound. There were three medicine boxes, two labeled with Jonathan’s name and one with Martha’s, both written in blue pen in Clark’s handwriting. There was a nearly empty blister pack of aspirin, which Lois sometimes used, and a pack of her preferred painkiller for dealing with menstrual cramps. For a moment, she wondered if the bleach-blonde who would seduce her partner had already arrived and left her own cramp medication there. But then she remembered that he had bought it for her about six weeks ago, which was the last time she’d been there during her period. And, suddenly, a lump formed in Lois’s throat.

Wait a minute, is that…

“A box of Superman band-aids?”

Clark looked mortified.

“I-I bought them a while back. Before… um.” He cleared his throat. “I saw them at the pharmacy counter and thought you might like them. You’re always hurting yourself,” he explained, gently turning over her hands, which held a few paper cuts, proof of her battles in the newsroom. He cleared his throat again and picked up the box. “See, there are small and medium ones. The little ones are diamond-shaped, with the S-shield, and the medium ones… well, they have the shield too, but they’re the regular shape with a blue background.”

Without looking at her, Clark reverently applied one of the small band-aids to her scratch, and Lois could no longer fight the moisture building in her eyes. May God help him, because the truth was that she did want him. She wanted this gentle, patient, attentive man in her life, even if he were kneeling on the filthy sidewalk of Butcher Street in old clothes.

She kissed him before she understood what she had done. Probably a strategy by her brain to keep her from stopping herself — since it was, obviously, a terrible idea. At first, it was a clumsy, desperate kiss, but as Clark kissed her back, it became sweet and tender.

It ended too quickly, and the next thing Lois knew, she had her nose buried in Clark’s chest, sobbing and sniffling.

“Lois, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice pained. “Forgive me, please, forgive me.”

Clark kept stroking her hair and whispering unintelligible things for a few minutes, until she calmed down.

“Oh, Clark, I got snot all over your T-shirt! I’m sorry.” Lois lifted her head and ignored her partner’s assurances that it was fine. “Your washing machine isn’t broken, is it?”

“My washing machine…? No, it’s working.”

“Good.”

He stared at her, confused, for a moment, before cupping her cheek with his hand. “Lois, I’m sorry, really. I was so afraid to tell…”

“No, Clark, I’m sorry,” she interrupted, sniffling. “I found out too late that I liked you and… I… I cheated on you!”

“…you because I never actually…” He stopped. “Come again?”

Lois took a deep breath.

“I’m going to tell you everything. But first, promise me you won’t think I’ve lost my mind.”

***

“Time travel? Lois, did you hit your head that hard?” Clark asked, exasperated, after she finished the first half of her account.

“Hey!” She slapped a hand on the mattress in protest, using the other to poke her index finger into his chest. “You promised you wouldn’t say I’m crazy!”

“I didn’t say you were crazy!”

“You meant it!”

“I’m worried about your health!”

“Clark, I know what I saw. H.G. Wells took me to moments from my past I’ve never told anyone about! How would he know my past if this were all staged? And how could something that big be staged?”

“Oh yes, a writer who died almost half a century ago took you for a ride in his time machine. Completely believable. Come on, we’re going to the hospital.”

“What? No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are, ma’am.”

“No! Sit down and let me finish explaining!”

Clark huffed and bent down to scoop her up in his arms. Lois, literally caught by surprise, let out a yelp — which was great for masking from herself how hot she’d suddenly started to feel.

“Kent! Put me down!”

He ignored her and kept walking, despite the difficulty Lois was giving him by kicking her legs wildly. “If you won’t let me drive your car, I’m throwing you into the first taxi I see.”

She stopped struggling, exasperated. “Clark,” she tried, more calmly, and gently touched his chest over his T-shirt. Experience had taught her that this was an effective last resort for persuasion. “Just think for a second. What are the chances Superman would be here? Before him, who would’ve believed aliens existed, or even if they did, that they could reach Earth? Let alone that they’d be an advanced, intelligent life form that looked just like humans? And, to top it off, the alien we know has superpowers straight out of a comic book! Doesn’t that sound unbelievable to you?”

After a moment of reflection, Clark sighed and set her down gently on the living room floor.

“Thank you!” Lois huffed, throwing herself onto the sofa and trying to ignore the heat, as well as the impression that her waist would later show burns in the exact shape of her partner’s hands.

Clark slumped onto the sofa beside her with his arms crossed (which was already an act of enormous cowardice, especially in that T-shirt). “Fine, you were saying… You used the machine — piloted by H.G. Wells! — and saw several moments from your past. So you really traveled through time. Hypothetically. And then?”

Lois bit her lip as she faced his inquisitive eyes and the eyebrows raised above his glasses. "And then... I accidentally ended up in the future when Wells pressed a wrong button on the machine. I was there for a few minutes. In my future self's body. In a slice of my future life." Clark nodded, clearly waiting for more information. She looked away. "I was... I was living in another house. A nice house, actually, you know, well-decorated, with a nice sofa and windows and everything. The thing is, I was... I was..."

“You were…?”

“Married to you! We… in the future… I was… or will be? Well, in my vision, we were married.”

She swallowed hard, still unable to look at anything but her own hands clutching and pulling at the cushion in her lap.

Clark clearly didn’t interpret her silence and nervousness very well. “Oh.” He cleared his throat, sounding deflated. “I see. It was that bad, huh?”

That gave Lois the strength she needed to look up, but now he was the one with his head bowed. "No! That's not what I meant!" She placed both hands on his shoulders, which made him face her again. "Actually... t-the problem..." Defeated, she took her hands off her partner's shoulders and used them to hide her own face and tears. He would never want anything to do with her again! "Superman came into our house. And hugged me and kissed me. He kissed me, even though I was a married woman! And took me to your — our bedroom and... and... From the way he was talking, it was clear it wasn't even close to the first time we would do... that. He even mocked you, made a joke about how y-you wouldn't mind him... and I..."

By that point, Lois was sobbing loudly and saying disjointed things interspersed with a "how could Superman do this?" or a "I'm going to be just like my father" or a "you deserve someone better, Clark", or a "and your tie had chickens on it, it was odd, but kinda cute too". It was, therefore, completely unexpected when, in the middle of all her drama and suffering, Clark began to laugh uproariously.

Lois blinked, thinking her blurred vision had deceived her, but he had indeed thrown himself back onto the wide sofa, hugging his own stomach in comical helplessness. "You're laughing?" He laughed even louder. "This isn't funny!" She began slapping his arms and chest. "Stop it! Can't you see I'm having a critical moment here?"

After a long while and useless complaints from Lois, Clark finally seemed to calm down, his uncontrollable guffaw giving way to a joyful laugh. He pulled her on top of him before she could slap him again, hugging her, and Lois placed her hands on his chest to brace herself. "Kent, what do you think you're do—"

It was his turn to kiss her, tenderly and deeply. Lost in his lips, Lois vaguely thought she ought to put him in his place and kick him off, but it would be hard to make her case when she had kissed him earlier. When had they become that kind of partners?

Clark seemed indifferent to the oxygen they were lacking, so it fell to Lois to pull away, panting.

"Sorry. I forgot you needed to breathe,” he said, though his bright — and ridiculous — smile revealed he wasn’t all that sorry.

Lois stared at him, embarrassed and confused. This wasn’t exactly the reaction she had imagined. "Well…?" she pressed. "I tell you I cheated on you with Superman and you laugh and… um, kiss me." She cleared her throat and finished the sentence at an almost inaudible volume.

"Ah, that is…" Clark laughed, and Lois thought she had never seen him so happy. She almost felt proud of being the reason for so much joy. "I can’t believe that was the reason for your bad mood. You should have told me earlier." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "So you like me and in the future we’re husband and wife, huh?"

If Lois hadn’t been flushed before, she was flushed now. "And I'm having an extramarital affair with Superman!" she reminded him desperately. "Betrayal! Adultery! Crime! I mean, not a crime — Family destruction! Earth to Clark, come in!"

Her partner remained oblivious, busy cheerfully kissing her all over her face. "Lois, go out with me tomorrow."

"Go out with yo—Clark!" She pulled away from his affections, even though she was secretly loving it. He needed to come to his senses and pull away from her, otherwise she wouldn’t have the strength to spare him from her own cruelty. "Did you really understand what I told you?"

He kept smiling like a kid who’d gotten the most wished-for present on Christmas. "Lois, trust me, we don’t have to worry about that, honey."

"Oh yeah?" She straightened up and crossed her arms, still sitting in his lap. If he suggests an open relationship, I’m going to punch his face. "And why not?"

He shifted with her, turning to settle against the sofa’s back, and brought his right hand up to one of the temples of his glasses.

“I’m going to tell you everything. But first, promise me you won’t think I’ve lost my mind.”




Final note:
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