From Part 1:
“I’m going to start again somewhere new...” He dropped her hand and moved towards the window, staring out into the night from the shadows of her apartment. “I can’t stand to be in Metropolis anymore.”
“Oh.” He could hear the hesitation in her voice. “Because you lo... because you miss Clark?”
He pressed his forehead against the wall. His voice was quiet when he answered. “No, not exactly.”
“Why, then?” He almost jumped when her hand found his shoulder.
“Because I was Clark.”
**********
Now read on...
Wh...at?
No. He couldn’t have said that. Couldn’t possibly have said what she thought... what she thought he’d just...
No. It wasn’t possible.
Clark was... Clark was dead... gunned down... shot right in front of her... he’d fallen, he’d collapsed, he’d died. She’d watched him die. Over and over again, she’d watched him die night after night since it had happened.
He couldn’t be... Superman couldn’t...
The world was tilting, somehow off-balance. Or was it just her who was dizzy? She reached out, fumbling, and her hand found the wood of the windowsill. Stability.
She raised her gaze to Superman again. He was still facing away from her, his body stiff, tense, as he leaned against the wall.
She’d misheard. Of course she had. It was... they’d been talking about Clark, and he’d kissed her and he’d asked her to go away with him... he was obviously losing it. Grief was driving him crazy...
“What did you just say?” She had to be sure. If he really was delusional...
He whirled around, breathing heavily, and stared at her. “I was Clark. Lois, I was Clark. I... since they shot me, this is all I have left.”
Wha...?
No. It wasn’t true. He was delusional.
Because, if it were true, then that meant that Clark was a liar. And that he’d hurt her more, far more, than anyone ever had before. Ever.
It couldn’t be true. Because it would mean that her best friend was a man she’d never known at all.
He was still looking at her. Staring at her. His eyes, so dark, so liquid, so familiar, boring into her, as if he was trying to learn her, memorise her.
Those eyes. The eyes she saw every night in her dreams, wide open, staring accusingly at her as he lay on the floor, bleeding to death. That night, in the club, his eyes had been closed, but in her dreams they were always open. Staring.
“You’re... Clark...”
One nod. And a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You... I... you let me...” Her voice gave way and, tears streaming down her face, she fell to the floor, sobbing hysterically.
Then he was beside her, awkwardly trying to pull her into his arms, stammering incoherent apologies and avowals.
He could say whatever he wanted. None of it mattered. He was a liar.
How could he have come here three or more times a week since... since Clark was shot and not tell her the truth? How could he have pretended? How could he have seen how she was suffering and never once said anything?
She’d grieved. She’d cried until she had no more tears, and still she’d cried more.
No more. No more being suckered into grieving for someone who wasn’t really dead... someone who’d never really existed.
She swallowed, choking back the last of the tears, and dredged up the strength to look at him. Him. The man in the Suit. The liar.
Then she pushed at him, shoving him away from her.
Coldly, hanging onto the merest shred of control, she said, “Leave me alone. I don’t care what you say you are. I just know that you’re not... The Clark Kent I knew would never have done this to me. You... I don’t know who you are. You’re not anyone I recognise.”
The soft rustle of the curtains broke her heart but she refused to turn around. Only after the breeze of his departure died down did she let the tears come again. Clark was gone.
********
They were waiting for him, swarmed around the podium like vultures. He floated a little higher, not quite ready to swoop down and be torn apart. He still had a few minutes before it was time to start the press conference. A few minutes to be... whoever he was, before he swooped down and it all ended. Before he’d announce Superman’s retirement.
He needed to move on.
The wheels were already in motion.
Clark Kent was gone. Kean. Ryan Kean. That was a good name. A solid name. He’d be Ryan Kean. Or maybe Kane.
Either way, he needed to move on, and to do that he needed to say goodbye to his past life. Superman might come back one day, but until then...
He saw the crowd starting to get restless. The vultures who’d abandoned their families on Christmas Eve to listen to Superman’s announcement. He scanned the faces. Many of them were familiar... they’d been friends, colleagues. If things had been different, he’d probably be down there with them, ready to chomp at the bit.
He paused as he saw a face so familiar it was ingrained in his memory... she’d come.
Why? Why was she here?
After the way she’d spoken to him last night, he’d have bet anything that she would have stayed a million miles away from a press conference called by Superman. What was she doing here? What was she going to do?
If only she hadn’t come. This was going to be difficult enough as it was...
“Clark. I... need to talk to you. Please. If you... if you ever loved me at all, meet me in the alley below you. Now.”
He froze. Lois. Talking to him - well, she was actually staring at the ground, but he’d heard her words as clearly as if she’d been standing right beside him.
She must have been watching for him. Listening, searching the skies, looking for any sign of his arrival. None of the other reporters had seen him yet, he was sure of that.
She wanted to talk to him.
She’d called him Clark.
She’d called him Clark. Last night, she’d told him that he had no right to that name. Her hatred, her anger had been what it had finally taken to send him fleeing.
Now, she was calling him Clark.
He hadn’t even intended to tell her. That, and kissing her, had... just happened. Perhaps because it was Christmas, a time of year that had always been special to him. That this year would just be another date on the calendar.
This Christmas would have been special. He’d already been planning to ask Lois to spend the holiday with him at his parents’ farm. He knew that the Lane family didn’t do Christmas and he’d wanted her to see that special time of year through his eyes. To see how magical it could be.
Three bullets later, the lights, decorations and other symbols of Christmas served only to mock his dreams. He wasn’t even sure that he’d spend the day with his parents this year. They’d hate that and be hurt, but he wasn’t good company for anyone. Not now.
He’d given in to the compulsion to see Lois, and had found her as devastated as ever. But, this time, seeming to sense his own devastation, she’d caught him out in some foolish words. And then the carol-singers, reminding him once again of the plans that had crumbled to dust...
Yearning for someone to remind him that he was still alive, he’d kissed her. Crossed the point of no return.
It had been so stupid. How could she possibly have understood? How could he have expected anything other than her anger? Her deep, unbelievable hurt that he could have made her suffer like that? She didn’t know what he’d been through - and he hadn’t even attempted to tell her. Instead, he’d talked as if asking her to give up her entire life to move away with him was normal. As if discovering that her dead best friend had been disguised all along as her other friend was normal.
He looked down. Lois was no longer with the throng of reporters. She was waiting for him.
Seconds later, he glided slowly down into the alley, landing in front of her but a careful few feet away. She looked tired, which was nothing new these days, but even more so than usual. As if she hadn’t slept at all. His fault. Again.
“Clark.” The emotion in her voice broke his heart all over again. How could she still be grieving for him now? After what he’d done?
“Hello, Lois.” He didn’t trust himself to say anything more.
“Thanks for... coming.” She took a step closer to him. He didn’t move. “I... I was searching for you all last night. But I didn’t know where to find you.”
She’d looked for him?
“I’m... sorry. It never occurred to me that you’d...”
One shoulder lifted, then fell again. “I went to your apartment. Stupid, really. It’s all closed up and your stuff’s packed away waiting for your parents to come and get it. I don’t know why I thought you might be there.”
Because it was the same place she’d always gone to find him. Old comforts. “You could always have called... help, Superman. I’d have come.”
She grimaced. “After... what I said to you, I wasn’t sure you’d willingly come anywhere near me.”
Was she kidding? Didn’t she know...?
He swallowed. “I... I was just flying around. I had some... decisions to make.”
“That why the press conference?”
That was what she wanted to talk about? An advance exclusive on his announcement? No. He only had to look at her to know that. “Yes. Superman’s retiring.”
“What?” Shock was all over her face.
“I can’t do this any more, Lois. Living a half-life. Being in Metropolis, seeing everything I can’t have any more, having to pretend it doesn’t matter - ”
He broke off. She’d closed the distance between them and was grabbing his hands. “Talk to me, Clark. Tell me why. Why didn’t you ever tell me? And why can’t I stop feeling that, however badly I’ve been hurting, you’re hurting just as bad?”
He stared at her. Her hands on his, warming his frozen soul.
How could she possibly still care? Yet her words, and the way she was looking at him, sent that message loud and clear. She’d been looking for him, too. She’d come to the press conference just so she could talk to him. “Lois... I don’t understand. Last night, you hated me... not that you don’t have reason...”
She shook her head, as if in denial of his words. “Last night, I was angry. In shock. But once I calmed down, let it all sink in, I remembered something.”
“What?”
“That I know you wouldn’t do something like this to me unless you had a very good reason.”
“I was going to tell you after I was shot, but... I couldn’t.” He clenched his fists beneath his folded arms and swallowed past the lump in his throat. He needed to finish. “I thought I could handle it... I thought I could be Superman. Telling you that I wasn’t really dead... I thought it would just hurt you more. Clark was gone. Clark is gone. He died that night.”
She shook her head violently, her hair flying wildly about her face. The tears in her eyes were a painful recrimination. Her voice was low. Desperate. “But you’re right here.”
“I’m standing in front of you, but I’m not *here*. I’m not a part of the world any more.” He let his arms drop under the weight of her hands resting on them. “I just can’t do it. I’m not a part of the world... I can’t order a cup of coffee. I can’t interact with people, and I can’t... I can’t sit next to you at work every day. See you every day. The part of me that could... Clark... is dead. He’s gone, and all that’s left is Superman.”
“You’re going to leave, then, again?” She took a step backwards, the accusation in her voice increasing the distance between them.
He felt a wave of ice crash around him as he began to understand... There was no way to make it better. He’d hurt her so badly... he was hurting so badly... the tightness in his chest increased as he realised... He’d have to let her go. He couldn’t ask her to give everything up for him. For her dead friend. It was time to let her go.
“I’m sorry, Lois. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t be Superman anymore.”
“And you’re just... going to leave?” Her breath hitched and a flame of colour licked her cheeks. “You’re going to give me back Clark and then snatch him away!” Her voice was starting to rise. “Do you know why I’m here? I couldn’t stand to lose you twice. I couldn’t let you walk away after I’d just got you back.”
Was she... could she forgive him?
“What are you saying, Lois?”
“I want to go with you.” Her voice was steady. Her hand covered the shield on his chest. “Take me with you.”
“I can’t ask you to come with me, Lois.” He ran his finger down the side of her cheek lightly. “It was wrong of me to ask you last night. I don’t expect you to give up everything for my sake.”
Her eyes were shining. “You can’t expect me to stay.”
He wanted, so much, to take her with him. To feel alive with her by his side. He wanted, so much, to spend more than guilt-ridden evenings and stolen moments with her. To have another chance... but he couldn’t say yes. He couldn’t expect her to leave behind her life. Him leaving... was for the best, but Lois had so much to lose.
He couldn’t let her leave with him... she said she didn’t hate him, and he couldn’t let her grow to resent him...
“Do you forgive me, Lois?”
She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. He watched the emotions flicker in her eyes, the pain, the anger, the hurt. “I-I love you.”
“But you don’t forgive me.”
“No.” Her voice was shaking. “But I can.”
*********
She hadn’t yet. He was right about that. How could she possibly forgive what he’d done to her?
But how could she not? Because if she didn’t... she’d lose him. Again.
Though why he’d done it still didn’t make sense. Yes, he’d been shot in the club. And it did make a horrible kind of sense that he’d had to pretend to fall, to be wounded, to... die. But he hadn’t had to stay dead!
Yes, maybe she could understand some of what he’d said. Clark, to all intents and purposes, had been shot dead. He couldn’t just come strolling into the Daily Planet the next day, exactly as normal, and behave as if nothing had happened. Like he was a... a... vampire, or one of those Immortals from Highlander who just shrugged off fatal injury and went right on living.
He’d seen no other option for himself than to stay dead. The Clark side of him.
And... he’d said it himself... all that was left was Superman.
And that explained so much. His anguish every time he visited her - mourning Clark, yes, but not in the way she’d imagined. Mourning the life he’d lost.
Just what had it been like for him, sitting there at her table talking over the details of her latest investigation, longing to jump in and discuss it with her as he always had, weigh possibilities, suggest solutions... work as they always had. As a team. Together. Partners.
Instead, he’d had to stay detached. Stilted. Giving in just a little to the temptation of his former occupation, his former life, but always preventing himself from going too far. Giving too much away.
Those evenings with her... as reality shifted and adjusted in her head, they took on a new significance. Had they been his only link to the life he’d lost? His only chance to make real, living contact with someone, anyone... a friend? To be a person and not a detached automaton of a Superhero?
But he had his parents...
Yes, and Martha and Jonathan Kent were wonderful people. But, much as they were parents she’d always envied Clark, she’d noticed that he and they were very different. He wanted different things out of life, things they didn’t always entirely understand, though they always supported him. Maybe she’d been the only person who could offer him a real link, however tenuous, to the life he’d lost...
Do you ever feel like you’re just existing
I feel like I stopped living a long time ago.
Now, those strange statements made perfect sense. He was just existing. The way he saw it, he’d stopped living the instant he’d been hit by those bullets, exactly as he would have if he hadn’t been invulnerable. His heart might not have stopped beating, but his life had ended all the same.
And that was why he hadn’t told her. Because he really believed that he had nothing to offer her any more. Because Superman without Clark Kent was... nobody.
“Clark.” She looked up at him. He’d backed away from her and was standing against the wall of a building, watching her, his eyes shadowed. His pose was off-putting; the typical stern Superman stance, arms folded across his chest. Hiding the pain she knew he was feeling inside.
He met her gaze. “It’s all right. I know you can’t forgive me. I... didn’t realise until just now what I did to you, but now that I do... I’ll leave you alone. Once I’ve talked to them - ” He jerked his head in the direction of where the reporters still waited, no doubt getting extremely impatient at the delay. “ - I’ll leave Metropolis and you’ll never see me again.”
She glared at him. “Don’t you dare! Clark Kent, if you go out there and... and tell them you’re leaving, I’ll be on the first plane to Smallville and I’ll tell your mother all about it. Everything. Including how much I love you and that you left and broke my... hea...heart.”
“Wha...at?” He looked as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“You heard me, Clark Kent! I love you! I’m in love with you! And you broke my heart once when you died... sorry, when you pretended to die, and now you’re planning on breaking it all over again by leaving?”
She’d never seen him look so shocked. Even through the tears now streaming down her face, she could see his disbelief.
And then he moved. So fast her brain couldn’t process it, he was standing in front of her. And his hands were coming up, trembling, and he was cupping her face. And his mouth was descending and his lips were on hers and... oh god... he was kissing her and she was crying and his face was damp too and he was kissing her...
“Lois. Oh, Lois.” Finally, he raised his head and just gazed at her. His palms smoothed her hair. He seemed unable to take his eyes off her. And his voice shook. “Lois, have you any idea how much I love you?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Not nearly enough, Kent.” But there was no sting in her words. “If you loved me as much as you should, you’d have come to me and told me the truth the night you were shot.”
There was apology in his gaze. Regret in his eyes. “If I’d known how much it’d hurt you... Lois, I swear, I had no idea how much you... cared. And by the time I began to realise, it was too late. I mean, how could I have told you? There you were, night after night, weeping over that damn photo and all I could do was watch you and try to comfort you, and all the time my heart was breaking because I’d lost me too... What could I have said? After all that time? ‘It’s okay, Lois, I’m not dead after all. I just came here night after night and watched you grieve for me while I was here all the time’? You’d have...” He trailed off, then whispered, “Killed me.”
She winced. But he wasn’t going to distract her. “You should have told me, Clark.”
The hopelessness in his eyes made her heart twist. “What good would it have done? I’m still dead.”
Anger briefly flared inside her, but she squashed it. He was just mixed up. He’d always needed her to straighten him out. He still did. “You’re not dead, Clark. You just had to pretend to be.”
He sighed. “Okay. Yeah. But that still doesn’t change the reality, Lois. What good would it have done?”
“What good would it have done?” She stared at him, incredulous. “I’d have figured out a way to bring you back to life, of course!”
“How?” Now he clearly thought she was crazy. He should know by now not to underestimate her!
She tugged away from his grasp and began to pace. “I don’t know, but I’d have done it.” She spun to face him. “And you know what? I’m still going to do it. So you can go right out there and tell those... those vultures - ” She caught him stifling a reluctant grin at that. “ - that the press conference is off. And then you can take me home and we’re going to come up with a plan.”
He still looked dubious, disbelieving, but at least the hopeless look was gone. “I’m going to do all that, am I?” And then he smiled. Reluctant admiration filled his face. “You do like ordering me around, don’t you?”
She returned his smile with a bright, hopeful one. “Always. Now go.”
He nodded, then swooped upwards and disappeared. She inhaled deeply and prepared to wait for him.
Now, all she had to do was come up with a foolproof plan to resurrect a dead man. Simple.
*********
Too soon, he was setting her down in her apartment. He’d miss flying with her after he’d left, as he knew, despite what she’d said, that he’d have to.
He’d miss the feel of her in his arms. His heart had flipped when she said she’d go with him, but it hadn’t taken much for reality to crush his hopes. She didn’t want to leave her life, and he couldn’t ask her to give up everything and go with him, not after she’d denied him once. She hadn’t forgiven him, and while she might, one day, he didn’t want her to grow to resent him. He’d rather be dead than have her resent him.
He supposed he could always come back and visit her, like he had been since the shooting, but it was so hard... remembering everything he’d lost... everything he couldn’t have...
He’d be back where he started, dying but for the stolen glimpses of the life he’d once led. A life with her in it.
No, he’d give her this. He’d give her Christmas, and celebrate it like he’d always dreamt of celebrating it with her, and then he’d... leave. Breaking both their hearts in the process.
It would be the hardest thing he’d ever done. He couldn’t face a life empty of Lois Lane. He wasn’t strong enough. It was hard enough when he had to hide his love for her, now that he knew she loved him too - and he didn’t doubt that she did... he just wasn’t strong enough.
But Clark Kent was dead and Superman had nothing to offer any woman. So he had to find the strength from somewhere to leave. To live without her. He’d let her try to save him. He’d let her try, and when she had to admit defeat then he’d tell her he was going. He’d hope she’d understand. And he... he would have to try to forget her. If he ever could.
He didn’t want to give up being Clark but, as he’d stood in front of the crowd of reporters, the blinding flashbulbs flickering, and lied... he’d remembered why he had to leave. It was impossible. Short of revealing his secret and losing himself anyway, there was no way he’d ever be able to use that name again. No way. He’d spent hours - weeks - fantasising about bringing Clark back. About his resurrection. About his triumphant return. Often, the fantasy had been all that had kept him from... but...
It. Was. Impossible.
He hadn’t announced Superman’s retirement at the press conference, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Miracles just didn’t happen. Not even at Christmas.
“Clark?”
He smiled at her. “Would you like to spend Christmas with me and my folks at the farm?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she murmured as she brushed her palm across his cheek. “We will think of something.”
“Lois.” His heart was already breaking. If he was stronger, he’d leave her now. Tell her he was sorry and just go. For both their sakes.
But he wasn’t that strong. He needed these couple of days with her. It was Christmas, after all. A time for families. For loved ones.
“I know you mean well,” he told her. “And I love you for it. But it’s not going to work. You have to see that, Lois. It’s been a month, after all. How can we possibly explain how Clark could turn up alive after all that time?”
“Missing persons turn up alive all the time.” Crossing her arms, Lois strode to the middle of her sitting-room and gave him a direct, challenging stare.
“Not after eyewitnesses have seen them shot in the chest at point-blank range.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Lois paused, clearly thinking. Then she said, “All we need is something that could’ve stopped the bullets. Maybe you had something in your jacket pocket?”
“Lois.” It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her efforts. But this... they were wasting time going around in circles here. “And how does that explain how I went missing for a month? I hit my head and had amnesia?”
“Well, it happens!” She sounded defensive now. “You read the news. It happens all the time!”
It was too cliched. Way too cliched... and she knew it too. He could see the knowledge in the defensiveness of her posture, her expression.
Suddenly, she slumped onto the sofa. Everything about her screamed defeat, and his heart began to break again. For her. Because she wanted this - wanted him back - so much, and she was finally beginning to accept that it wasn’t going to happen.
“Lois.” He came and sat beside her. “It won’t be so bad. I’ll - ” Oh, god, he’d sworn he wouldn’t do this... “ - I’ll come to see you as often as I can. Every night, if I can. We can still see each other. I... if it means so much to you, Superman will stay in Metropolis.”
She shook her head, not looking at him. “No, Clark. I don’t want Superman. I want you.”
Then she turned to him, seeming to take in his appearance. “Can you... be Clark for me? Now?”
“But I am...” Oh. The Suit. “Just a moment.”
In seconds, he was dressed in the T-shirt and jeans he’d worn for his last visit to the farm, glasses also in place. He’d expected her to be impressed by the spin-change, but it barely seemed to register. She simply reached for him, took his hands and laced his fingers with hers. “Clark. Oh, god, Clark, I’ve missed you so much!”
“And I...” A shuddering sigh escaped him, and he sat beside her again. “I’d forgotten how good... how normal it felt to be with you dressed like this.”
“Clark...” It seemed that she couldn’t say his name often enough. One hand freed itself and reached up to trace the outline of his glasses.
“I love you, Lois. Whatever happens now... whatever I have to do, always remember that. I love you.”
“And I love you... and I’m not going to let you disappear!” Now she was determined again. She took a deep breath. “Okay, so let’s think this through. They took you away. They dumped you... where?”
“Suicide Slum. A back-alley.”
“Not enough.” Lois dropped his hand and jumped to her feet. “Sorry. I think better when I can pace... it doesn’t mean I don’t want to...” She gestured towards him, at his hands. “Not the Slum. What if you were dumped in the Bay?”
What was she...? “What difference does it make? Besides, Capone and his guys know where they dumped me.”
“You think they’ll talk? They’re all in jail. Besides, the last I heard the clone regeneration process was breaking down. Henderson told me the doctor who examined them thinks they’ll be dead again in a few days.”
He couldn’t bring himself to feel any regret over that. “But I still don’t see how...”
“The Bay. Lots going on there... not too difficult to get lost...”
She was obviously thinking aloud rather than engaging in conversation. It presumably wasn’t intended to make sense. “For a month, Lois?”
She didn’t reply immediately. Then, suddenly, she whirled around to face him. “A ship, Clark! You fell into a ship. Maybe... maybe they just dumped you somewhere in the docks area and you weren’t dead, just unconscious. You had your wallet in your pocket. The bullets got slowed down by that and didn’t actually penetrate your...” She swallowed. “Your heart. Just left you bleeding and with some damage - more superficial than life-threatening. And when you came round you were dizzy from the head injury and blood loss and in the dark you fell off the edge of the dock and onto the deck of a ship.”
That was Lois all over - she had one heck of an imagination. “But ships’ decks are way above the dock level.”
“Okay, a boat, then. The ship it belonged to was anchored somewhere off the bay.”
Clark shook his head. “So why wouldn’t they just take me back to the bay? Turn me over to the harbour police or something?”
She shrugged. “You know what goes on at the docks. Ships come in full of illegals all the time. People without the proper papers. There was no way they’d talk to the cops. So they took you back to the ship. The ship’s doctor looked after you but you couldn’t call home or anything like that.”
“But presumably it docked somewhere? Eventually?” This was a crazy story. No-one was going to believe it.
“Yeah. Somewhere in North Africa. And you couldn’t get ashore there because you had no papers.”
“But I could have gone to the US Consulate...”
“The captain didn’t want to let you. Because then there’d have been questions about how you got on board and why they didn’t turn you over back in Metropolis - especially since gunshot wounds have to be reported to the police. So, because he promised to take you back on the return voyage, you reluctantly agreed to stay on board. And here you are. Back. Healed. And alive.” She grinned triumphantly at him.
It was an absolutely ludicrous story. Nobody was going to buy it for an instant. Were they?
He stood up. “Lois...” It meant a lot that he mattered so much to her that she’d go to this sort of trouble to come up with a cover story. But they couldn’t use this... could they?
“Yeah, I know, it’s got enough holes to sink a battleship. But, you know, when people want something to be true badly enough they don’t question things.” She came back to him and caught his hands again. “Okay, some people will be a bit more sceptical. You might have to consider telling one or two the truth... would you have a problem with that?”
Tell people the truth? That he was... Superman?
“I mean people like Perry. And Bill Henderson. They’re too smart to believe this, and Henderson’s the cop who investigated your... murder. I think we can trust them.” She squeezed his hands. “What do you think?”
She was right: both Perry and Henderson were among the most trustworthy people he knew. If he had to share his secret with anyone other than Lois, they’d be top of his list.
But that wasn’t why his heart had done a little flip-flop at her words.
She’d said we could trust them.
We. The two of them. Working together, as always - but this time with no secrets between them.
Did he want that? More than anything in the world, apart from having Lois in his life in the most intimate way possible.
Yes, her idea had holes. Anyone who tried to disprove it wouldn’t find it too difficult. But, on the other hand, if they told Perry and Henderson the truth they’d be bound to come up with refinements and other ways of making the story stick.
He could be Clark once more. No longer the ghost of a man who used to exist.
He gazed down at her and shook his head. “Did I ever tell you that you’re absolutely amazing?”
She smiled back up at him. A real smile, a smile of genuine happiness and amusement, not the pathetic attempts she’d made over the past few weeks which hadn’t fooled anyone. “Not anywhere near often enough.”
And he just had to kiss her.
*********
“Clark?” she whispered. She squirmed around on her small couch, looking for a more comfortable position before she settled back against his chest. “Cla-ark.”
“Hmm?” he responded, his arm tightening around her shoulders.
She grinned, watching his sleepy face above her.
He cracked open an eye, and a slow smile spread across his face. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, her grin widening.
They’d spent the whole day together, talking, planning, stealing kisses. Being together. Living. Together.
Living. Alive.
Around dinnertime, he’d offered to get her takeout, from anywhere in the world. It wasn’t exactly traditional, he’d told her, but he promised to make up for it next year. Her heart had flipped when he’d said that. Next year. They’d have a next year.
And a year after, and a year after that... As many years as they wanted. A whole future together. No longer only a past, and a present full of regrets.
She leaned up and pressed a kiss against his jaw. They’d make up for it next year. She might even cook for him, if she was game enough. His arm tightened around her again and she grinned.
“Clark?”
He’d offered to fly anywhere she’d wanted, but she’d refused. She hadn’t wanted him to leave, hadn’t wanted him out of her sight, not for a moment. Instead, they’d found a local pizzeria that was open on Christmas Eve and they’d ordered in. The food had been horrible, but she’d never had a better Christmas dinner.
“Yes, Lois?” The light from the TV screen was dancing across his face, accentuating the shadows and illuminating the amused twinkle in his eye.
“Nothing.”
He leaned down and dropped a light kiss on her lips. “Go back to sleep. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”
She grinned. Again. She hadn’t smiled so much since... Lois shook her head. She’d never smiled so much. Tomorrow. They were going to Smallville. They’d spend Christmas with Clark’s family and sit around a tree, eat turkey, laugh, be happy. They had a long way to go before Clark could come back; they had a lot of bruised feelings to work through, but tomorrow they’d be happy. She’d have Christmas with Clark. Something she’d thought she’d never have. She wouldn’t waste her miracle being upset.
“Clark?” She reached up, brushing her fingers along his cheek. “I love you.”
She felt his breath catch and he opened his eyes slowly. The look she saw in them stilled her own heart.
His voice was a whisper. A promise. “I love you, too.”
She tilted her head towards him as he leaned down. He paused, his lips hovering above hers.
“Merry Christmas, Lois.”
She closed the distance between them as the sound of carollers wafted up from the street below, through the window she hadn’t closed fully after he’d flown her in earlier.
Christmas carollers. Again. But this time she didn’t want to close the window.
Clark stilled, as she did, and turned his attention towards the window. He blew out a short breath... and the window opened fully. The singing grew louder.
“Joy to the world...”
He turned towards her again, and captured her lips warmly, lovingly, with his own. And, gladly, blissfully, she kissed him back.
It was going to be a magical Christmas.
~ The End ~
Merry Christmas, Everyone!
(c) Wendy Richards and David 2005
