Ah, angelic (Crystal?), I so, so love this!
She brushes an errant curl away from his forehead, watching him sleep soundly next to her.
If I was married to Clark, I'd have my hands in his hair all the time.
Particularly when he was asleep.
And then she frowns, lost in thought.
She can’t remember the exact moment she fell in love with Clark Kent.
Funnily enough, neither can I. I mean, I can't remember when I fell in love with
Clark Kent. But I can certainly remember when I fell in love with
Superman. It was back in 1969, I was barely fourteen years old, and I was reading a comic where Lois Lane got superpowers. And when Superman found out about this, oh, wow... the happiness that the comic book artist managed to show us on Superman's comic book face when he looked at Lois...it blew me away, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
He loves her. He loves
her. Only her. He, Superman, Man of Steel and of miracles. The man who flies like an angel and bends steel with his bare hands. He loves
her. Only her. And honestly, I have never been quite the same since I read that comic.
But Superman couldn't marry Lois. He could marry her only if she was his superpowered equal, but that would never truly happen, so their love was doomed. It was doomed until the people at DC Comics decided, in 1990, that they wanted to give Lois and
Clark a chance. So Clark proposed to Lois in the comics, and she said yes. And a few years later, ABC gave us
Lois And Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. And the show gave us this:
It was more like the culmination of a thousand moments — an encouraging smile six minutes before deadline, a gentle hand against the small of her back, a hot cup of coffee waiting on her desk.
It was all of these, and so much more.
Fierce battles of wit. A tongue-in-cheek grin, flashed while editing her copy. A stubborn streak that could span more than one galaxy.
And inherent goodness.
That fascinates her most. His unwavering optimism balances her own cynicism.
Clark is her constant, even when he speeds away in a red-blue blur with barely a second’s notice.
How beautifully, beautifully you put what was there for us to see in the ABC TV show.
She studies his features, smooth and peaceful in repose.
I love this sentence. I can see him. I can see them. I can see the way she looks at him. The image of them together like this should adorn the inside of churches.
No, Lois amends, she might not remember when she realized she loved her husband, but the exact moment doesn’t really matter.
She always has.
It's funny, angelic. During all my years as a Superman fan - 37 years, almost 38 - I have worried that he would stop loving Lois. I have worried that he would relegate her to some tucked-away corner of his mind, and concentrate on more important things. I have worried that he would prefer a life of independence and chastity, where the messiness of love is not allowed to mess up the perfection of his superhuman life. I have worried, too, that a man a sought-after and admired as him would do what so many other famous men have done, get tired of his old love and and pick another blossom from the cornucopia of adulation that is constantly offered to him.
But I have never doubted her love for him.
I loved, loved, loved every time I heard him say to her that he had always loved her and always would. But I didn't need to be told that she had always loved him (and always would). I already knew that.
But no matter how confident I've been in my faith in Lois's love for him, I so, so, so loved hearing her admit it to herself in your wonderful vignette.
So beautiful, angelic.
Ann
