Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Kerth Challenge #4 Lyric challenge: "Open All Night" Complete

The Lyrics to the next song you hear are the title of your next fic. What are the lyrics and how do they relate to the fic?

Author’s Notes: My playlist is chalk full of Bon Jovi and so naturally the first lyrics I heard were from a song off of their album “Bounce” titled ‘Open All Night’. The song is a quiet sort of pleading from one person to another not to fall in love until eventually he surrenders to it. I wanted to recreate that vibe and before I knew it, I had a TOGOM re-write on my hands. I have sprinkled lyrics from the song throughout the story as the song itself tells its own story that I tried to mirror with Lois and Clark


Summary: The story leaves off from the scene in the car when Lois tries to confess her feelings for Clark, only in my version, he pretended to be asleep because he was so ashamed over not letting her think he was dead.

THANK YOU as always to my faithful beta and partner in crime KSaraSara for telling me when the story didn’t feel right and pushing me to move things around, write and re-write it until it eventually became something coherent.







I saw you coming from a mile away. Trying to hide behind that pretty face.

He never should have fallen in love. It was easier said than done of course, but if Clark Kent were a tragic hero in a Shakesperian play, then falling in love with Lois Lane would have been his tragic flaw. And despite the fact that he'd had excellent grades in English class, he was too late. He’d seen her coming from a mile away, but he was powerless to stop it.

Just like he’d been powerless to stop the bullet that Clyde Barrow had fired towards Lois. The only thing he could think to do was to put himself in front of that bullet, and in doing so, he’d lost everything.

Getting shot in front of Lois. Not the best beginning to a story, but to be fair, Clark had thought it was the end. What had started with Clark and Lois investigating a story involving gangsters thought to be long dead, had resulted in him having to fake his death in order to save Lois and protect his identity.

For twenty-four horrific hours, he’d resigned himself to the idea that Clark Kent had died, and with him, any chance he ever had at happiness with Lois. But then opportunity struck and he’d found a way to plausibly explain his return. He was back. He should have been elated. Instead, his heart was heavy.

He’d felt guilty for lying to Lois about Superman from day one, but he’d always told himself the lie was forgivable. That if one day he could just explain the reasons for it, she would understand.

He’d started to hope.

But hope was a dangerous thing, and though Clark Kent had been resurrected, any hope at coming clean to Lois and keeping her friendship had died. She would never forgive him for this – couldn’t forgive him for this. He should have told her immediately afterwards that he wasn’t dead.

But he hadn’t.

And now he found himself in her Jeep as she drove him home, the radio playing softly in the background. She kept looking at him…sneaking little glances that she didn’t think he would notice. It was almost as if she expected him to disappear at any second.

He thought back to the moment she had seen him "alive" again and the way her face had lit up. She’d run to him, throwing herself into his arms while covered entirely in cement, and for a split second, all had been right in the world.

But now, now it all felt wrong. He was alive, but things were different. She was different. She smiled at him, but there was a hollow wariness in her expression – as if she didn’t trust that she wouldn’t lose him all over again.

As they drove, he noticed she reached out her hand for his but hesitated before pulling it away again. He wanted to tell her – should have told her. But she looked like she’d been through emotional hell and he couldn’t bear to do anything else to upset her. He had never in a million years suspected that his death could affect her this way. She looked as if she’d been broken and was trying desperately to put the pieces back together.

It aches, it breaks. It takes your breath away.

It terrified him. She wasn’t supposed to care for him this way. She’d told him she could never love him and now…

Did she?

They’d gotten so close lately. Too close.

He’d started to hope.


“Clark?” Lois said softly, her voice breaking into his thoughts as they drove.

“Hmm?”

A long pause followed, and out of the corner of his eye he could see she looked anxious. He remembered the way she’d flown into his arms, gripping him as if she would never let go.

“Nothing,” she finally said, her voice heavy and her expression haunted.

He needed to tell her. He needed to apologise. What kind of person makes their best friend think they’re dead for a day? Why hadn’t he gone to her sooner?

“Lois?” He hadn’t even realised he’d spoken until the words were out of his mouth.

“Hmm?”

A thousand replies flew through his mind: I love you. I’m Superman. I love you. Please forgive me. I’m sorry. I love you.

“Nothing,” he said, closing his eyes and feeling shame wash over him. Some superhero he turned out to be.

He closed his eyes, wishing he could find a way to erase the last twenty-four hours and do the right thing. But even as he did so, he realised that the last twenty-four hours were not the problem. At least not entirely. It was the last twelve months. Each singular transgression stacked itself on top of the another, compounding the lie…making it more complicated. Making it more unforgivable the longer it went on.


He thought about what it was like when they first met and what he could have done to change things. If anything.

Bet my last dollar baby you’ve been bruised. Poor little heart, all black and blue.

His heart had been hers, the moment she crashed into Perry’s office during his interview, demanding her story be taken seriously. She’d barely looked at him when Perry had introduced them, but it didn’t matter. He was already gone. Not exactly the meet cute of a classic romantic comedy, but it was enough. It had taken him all of thirty seconds to fall in love and about a week or so to realise definitively that she could never feel the same.

He’d been hopeful at first…optimistic even. After all, the Daily Planet was his dream job and Lois was…beyond incredible. He wanted it all. But by day four, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was a crushing realisation, but one that he knew to be irrefutably true. He spent those first three days proving himself to her in a way he’d never had to do with anyone before.

He didn’t expect the entire world to like him, but he’d never met someone who seemed determined to dislike him on principle. It didn’t take him long to see that her brash attitude and frosty exterior was a deliberate attempt to keep people at bay. Even as that frost melted a little, her walls stayed firmly in place. He had no idea what had caused her to be so mistrustful of people, but it broke his heart.

He could tell just by looking at her that she’d experienced her fair share of pain, heartbreak and who knows what else? It was in the way she bristled whenever he did anything remotely kind for her…the way she seemed suspicious of his every move and the way she very definitively told him, “Don’t fall for me, farmboy. I don’t have time for it,” the second he got even a little close to her.

Last thing you need’s another pick up line. You must’ve heard ‘em all a thousand times…

And so he did the only thing he could – he became her friend. Not because he secretly hoped for more – he’d already seen how impossible that was, but because he wanted to be in her life in whatever way she would let him.

Hope, as it turned out, was an insidious thing. He found out that if he allowed even a little bit of it in, it started to consume him. And now he feared it might destroy him. Because the thing he thought could never happen was on the verge of happening. He’d been seeing it in Lois’ eyes ever since he’d come back from the dead – affection like he’d never dreamed of seeing. Fear, worry, Maybe even…

No. Please, not that. Not now. He yawned, hoping that his apparent exhaustion could prevent her from making declarations right now. But all it did was cause her to look at him, her beautiful eyes full of worry. She looked back at the road, not even noticing that he’d shut his eyes again.

“Clark,” she said and his heart flip flopped. Part of him desperately wanted to hear what she was going to say and the other part dreaded it. “When I thought you were gone, I did some thinking about my life.”

He kept his eyes shut, hoping that if she looked at him she would think he was asleep. It was a desperate move. Like a small child who believed that if he hid under a blanket, the monster in the closet couldn’t see him. He was hiding from her like a coward, afraid that her words might spell the end of their friendship.

I don’t wanna fall in love with you. I try, try, try, but I can’t get around the truth.

She continued talking, and Clark could only conclude that she either hadn’t looked at him, or was determined to say what she needed to regardless of whether he was awake to hear it or not. She sounded nervous and he desperately wanted to touch her.

“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Gee, Lois, how self-centred can you get?'” she said as if he had answered her. As if they were in the office talking like they always did. As if things were okay between them. “But just hear me out.”

Please don’t say my name. Give this heart a break. I don’t wanna make the same mistakes…

“I know our relationship has always been difficult to define,” she said softly. He could hear the undercurrent of uncertainty – the slight tremble in her voice.

Oh, sweetheart, he thought, please don’t. He’d never called her that in real life…he wouldn’t dare. But in the safety of his mind, he had a thousand endearments for her. A thousand ways to tell her he loved her. And now she might be trying to tell him. And it broke his heart to hear it.

“When I thought of how much I missed you…how much I was going to miss you for the rest of my life…well, I started to think that maybe there’s more to our relationship than friendship.”

And there it was. The words he wanted to hear…longed to hear. It was everything he’d never dared to hope for and still everything he couldn’t have. His body went rigid, and he allowed himself to pretend to snore ever so slightly.

He had no idea why, but of all the lies he’d told her, of all the deceptions, this one…this pretending not to have heard her bare her soul to him felt almost as bad as faking his death.

The lies he’d told her in the past had been to protect his secret, and he’d justified that by reasoning that his parents or even Lois might be in danger if anybody found out. But this? There was no excuse. Nothing he could say even in his mind to make it right.

Everything he did, he did to protect himself. And he did it at the expense of her. And possibly, at the expense of their friendship.

She must have looked at him finally because he heard her sigh in disappointment.


“Or maybe not,” she said to herself. His shoulders slumped and he tried to feel relieved that she was questioning herself and her feelings. After all, better his heart break than hers. She didn’t deserve this.

After a moment or so he felt her hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him. He pretended to rouse himself awake, hating every second of it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his apology conveying the multitude of emotions he was feeling. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“It’s okay,” she told him quietly. “You’ve had a hard day.” Her lip quivered ever so slightly as she spoke and it was all he could do to keep himself from kissing her then and there. He could never bear to see her in pain.

“So have you,” he replied, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He instantly regretted his words as a thousand emotions played across her face.

“Actually, I’ve had a wonderful day,” she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Yesterday, I’d lost you. Today, I got you back.”

“I’m glad I’m back,” was all he could think to say. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He assumed she would let go after, but she didn’t. She held onto him as if needing to reaffirm that he was still physically there.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice thick. “More than you know.”

The air was heavy with the weight of the words unspoken, and Clark knew if he didn’t get out of the car soon, he would end up telling her everything. And though part of him feared that was inevitable, he would spare her the pain tonight of all nights.

“I should…” He gestured towards his apartment and she nodded. He opened the door and climbed out.

“Clark?” Lois called out before he could go inside. He stuck his head back in the car and watched as she hesitated yet again, clearly wanting to say more but holding back.

“If you need me…for anything…”

“I know,” he replied. And he did. He could call her at any time of night and she would answer because they were best friends.

What were best friends for?

What were they for indeed? It was all he could think about as he entered his apartment, removing his shoes and jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. It was clearly ruined – covered in cement from when Lois had flown into his arms. He grabbed a garbage bag and gingerly removed the cement covered clothing. He put the clothes in the bag and tossed it in the garbage before spinning into a t-shirt and shorts.

He opened the fridge and grabbed some leftovers from yesterday’s stir fry that he’d made and sat down in front of the television, flipping mindlessly through the channels as he ate.

He should be elated. He had his life back. He had Lois back. More than back. There was a chance that she might finally feel for him the way he’d been feeling for her since day one.

But all he felt was a heavy ache in his chest along with the bone-deep knowledge that this deception was a bridge too far. After all, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that losing Lois would destroy him. If she felt half as deeply for him as he did for her, how could she ever forgive him for putting her through this? How could he ever make it right?

What would he say to her if she'd confessed her feelings for him in the cold light of day where he had nowhere to hide? He remembered what it had been like to be on the receiving end of Lois’ gentle rejection when he’d poured out his heart to her, but he’d never given much thought to how hard it must have been for her to turn him down – to say she didn’t feel the same way for him.

And maybe she hadn’t. He had no way of knowing if her feelings were even real, or if they were merely a side effect of his near death experience. She had, after all, told him last year that there was no way she could ever love him. It was a lot to hope that she could see him differently after only a year’s time and yet…

He’d heard the tremble in her voice and seen the way her hands had shaken on the steering wheel as she’d driven him home. She’d run towards him and the joy in her eyes had been unmistakable as had the fact that she’d clung to him for dear life.

He wanted her to love him. It was all he’d ever wanted. But he wasn’t sure he deserved her love anymore, and he feared that if he told her how he felt in return, her trust in him would shatter completely when she learned the truth. He knew how hard it was for her to trust.

He glanced at the clock next to him with a sigh. He should sleep. He genuinely was exhausted and yet, his mind refused to obey his body’s commands. He wanted to see her, wanted to hold her. He wanted to confess everything to her and accept whatever punishment she deemed necessary.

And as he slowly got up and readied himself for bed, he couldn’t help but wish she would knock on his door the way she’d done so many times before when she was worried or upset at all hours of the night. He would welcome her into the apartment with open arms and they would sit and watch movies, pretending all was right with the world.

It had always been a lie, but it was a beautiful one, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. It was his last thought as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

It’s too late, I’ll leave on the light. These arms are open all night…



Lois was not okay. She should have been. Clark was alive. He was alive and back at the Planet and everything was fine. She hadn’t lost her partner…her best friend. She hadn’t lost the man she…

He was fine. And yet, she was a mess. Days had gone by since his miraculous return from the dead thanks to Dr. Hamilton’s research, and rather than feel reassured by it, she only felt more and more anxious and afraid.

Part of it was sheer exhaustion. She hadn’t been sleeping at night. She’d tried, of course, but every time she closed her eyes, her mind replayed that moment where Clark had jumped in front of the bullet meant for her over and over with perfect clarity. She couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t hide from it.


She heard the crack of the gun followed by the flash of his body as it leaped in front of her before watching him crumple lifelessly to the ground while she cried out in horror. Over and over.

Eventually sleep was nothing more than a form of torture and something she’d begun to avoid at all costs. It made no sense. He was back. He was here. She shouldn’t be seeing his death in her mind on repeat with perfect image and audio.

He was fine. So why wasn’t she? What was wrong with her?

I’ve got your taste in the back of my mouth. I wanna reach in and pull it out…

She knew that Clark and Perry had noticed how worn out she was. It had started to affect her work. Her stories lacked their usual flair, and she’d appeared to have lost her drive to get there first. It was all she could do to get things turned in on time and she was embarrassed to admit even to herself that Clark was doing a lot of the work when they were partnered on a story.

He’d been oddly hesitant around her, treating her as if she were this fragile thing that could break at any moment. He’d been like that today around her, walking on eggshells and intentionally steering every conversation into something either work related or extremely neutral and free of any reminder of the fact that he’d nearly died.

No, not nearly. He’d died. He’d died and she had lost him for twenty-four horrific hours.

She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes with her thumb and forefinger while silently wondering if having a fifth cup of coffee was a bit too much. The caffeine didn’t seem to be doing its usual job. It didn’t seem to matter how tired she was, however. The alternative was worse. She was beginning to dread sleep and, for the last two nights, had taken to walking around the neighbourhood at night in an effort to avoid having to face her bed – and the image of losing her partner again. She sighed, and glanced over at his desk.

He was looking at her again. She could tell that he’d noticed her gesture of exhaustion. It warmed her heart to know he seemed so worried about her and yet she wasn’t sure how far that care for her went. She had thought she’d known before he had been shot. She thought that…

But now she wasn’t sure. And she hadn’t attempted to say anything to him again about her feelings for him after her botched attempt in the car. She couldn’t bear the idea that he might not feel the same. It would be like losing him all over again.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to – far from it. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She wanted to tell the entire office and everyone she met on the street that she was done fighting her feelings for Clark Kent. Being faced with the prospect of spending her life without him had forced her to realise that she needed him.

She’d gone her whole life trying not to need anyone, but she needed him. So much that she bottled these feelings up – placed them under heavy lock and key. She would have done anything to keep Clark close to her.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the headache that was starting to threaten when the feeling of a familiar large hand touched her shoulder ever so slightly. The soft sound of her partner’s voice caused her to open her eyes.

“I’m heading out,” Clark told her when she looked up at him. He smiled gently at her and she smiled back, instantly calmed by the look on his face. “Do you want me to…walk you down? Or are you going to stay and finish up on that car theft piece?”

“I’ll come with you,” she said, a thrill of fear flashing urgently through her. She hadn’t wanted to let him out of her sight lately. It had taken everything she’d had the past few nights to keep herself from turning up on his doorstep and flinging herself into his arms. As it was, the past two nights she’d found herself walking past his apartment and glancing up to see if his light was on. It was a bit of a silly exercise as she couldn’t remember if his apartment even faced this side of the street and yet doing so made her feel better.

She stood up and threw her coat on and they walked down to her Jeep in silence. There had been a lot of long silences between them lately – an absence of words born from having too much to tell him but lacking the ability to articulate it.

When they reached her Jeep, they both lingered. She pretended to fumble for her keys, aware of the intense gaze of his that was directed her way.

“Lois?” he finally said tentatively. “Are…are you okay?”

She looked up and almost gasped aloud at the naked emotion she could see on his face. There was no mistaking that he cared for her more deeply than she could have hoped for. But there was also fear and something else she couldn’t quite pick out, but it scared her nonetheless.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t say, when you’re this close I’m afraid…


“I’m fine,” she replied, trying to hide the tremor in her hands as she stared directly at the spot where the bullet had hit him. Had Dr. Hamilton brought him back with a scar? Or was his chest completely smooth – void of any evidence at all that she had lost him? “I’m just…tired.”

“Yeah,” he replied, running his hands through his hair. “I am too.”

He’d stepped a little closer to her now, and she could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. Her legs felt weak and she almost placed her hands against his chest for purchase. He was looking at her again. Those eyes. Oh God, those eyes. So full of life when only a few nights ago they’d been…

Her throat felt tight and she swallowed a whimper. She wouldn’t think about it.

“Lois,” he said again, her name sounding more like a prayer than anything else. She closed her eyes and tried to maintain her composure. She just wanted him to hold her…needed to feel how close he was and to know that she wasn’t going to lose him ever again.

The way I feel when I touch your hair…

She could feel the warmth of his hand on her cheek as a tear slipped down her face and over his hand. She opened her eyes, her heart pounding as loud as a drum. He was still here. He was touching her.

“Clark, I…” Her voice broke ever so slightly and she fought to keep her composure. “I want to tell you…I want to say…”


But she couldn’t say it. He was looking at her, his eyes so full of concern and she couldn’t say it. Because what if she said it and she lost him again? What if she told him she loved him and another Clyde Barrow popped up? He wasn’t invulnerable like Superman. And that scared her to death.

The way I’d miss you, when you’re not there…

“It’s okay,” he said, his thumb lightly stroking the side of her cheek, wiping each stray tear in the process. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”

Did he sound relieved? Was he scared too? After all, he’d died. For her. He’d put himself in front of a bullet meant for her. He hadn’t even thought about it. She’d known he cared for her – she even suspected he’d lied when he claimed he didn’t really love her, but those words seemed small and insignificant in the face of an action like that.

Did he see the bullet in his dreams as well?

And that I’d see you when I close my eyes. It’s too late. I’ve crossed that line.

“I want to,” she insisted, needing to talk to him but feeling the words were still so out of reach for both of them. “I haven’t…been sleeping. Clark, I need –”

“What?” He asked, tipping her chin up and bringing their faces even closer.

“I need to go home,” she said, breaking the spell and taking a step back. He exhaled and she wasn’t sure if the look in his eyes was relief or disappointment. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded and stepped back. She opened the door and he spoke again, his voice halting and tentative.

“If you need me…for anything…”

“I know,” she replied, echoing his response from the other night. And she did. She could call him at any time of night and he would answer because they were best friends.

Were they more?

****

That thought stayed with her as she drove home and plagued her the rest of the night. When bedtime came around, Lois was once again too wired and full of anxiety to sleep. She tossed and turned, unable to calm her racing mind.

Eventually she gave up and climbed out of bed. She rattled around the apartment restlessly for what seemed like an eternity while the clock slowed to a crawl. She knew she would be even more exhausted at work the next day but her mind and body seemed to be at odds with one another.

She felt frustration creep up on her as she paced her living room. She had picked up the phone to call Clark half a dozen times only to put it back down before dialling. And eventually she gave up and threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and her running shoes before grabbing her coat and heading out into the night.

She wrapped her arms around herself, despite there being no cold to speak of and wandered down the streets with no destination in mind. She had no idea what she was doing or where she was going. All she did know was that she couldn’t be alone. Not right now. Not tonight.

It was too much. Thinking about that night. Wanting to tell him how she felt. The fear that he might not love her. The fear that he might. It felt like the world was closing in on her, and the only time she could breathe was when she was with him. When she wasn’t…

It aches, it breaks, it takes your breath away…

She looked up and realised she had no idea what street she was on, or even what time it was. She’d forgotten her watch in the apartment and she knew she should get back, but she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going and it was dark. Looking around, the only place she could see that was open was a small, cosy little pub called The Barking Cat. She wasn’t normally one for pubs, but she figured if nothing else, she could go in and ask for directions back to her apartment. She was pretty familiar with most of the side streets in her area, so it was slightly alarming not to have her bearings.

Once inside, she approached the bar and a kindly looking bartender gave her a warm smile. He looked to be about sixty, with wavy silvery hair and eyes that seemed to twinkle.

“What can I get you, luv?” he asked, and she instantly found herself charmed by his soft Scottish accent. She had come in with the intention of simply asking the time and finding out where she was, but instead found herself ordering a glass of red wine and requesting a look at the late night menu as she took a seat at a booth in the corner of the pub. “Grill’s off, but we can do a plate o’ chips if ye fancy.”

She took in the surroundings which included lots of wooden signs for various English and Scottish beers. A soccer game was playing on the TV at the bar and several older men were huddled around it muttering the odd curse every time their team failed to score.

When the bartender brought her the glass of wine she ordered, he must have noticed her expression because he grinned slightly.

“It’s the match from earlier today,” he explained in a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to wait to show it with the licensing being what it is. They come to watch, though, no matter how early or how late.”

“Just how late is it right now?” she asked, scanning the room for a clock of some sort. “I forgot my watch.”

“Just after one, lass,” the man replied. “Are ye waitin’ for someone then? Awful late to be walkin’ around this neighbourhood.”

Lois was about to ask him just which neighbourhood she was in, when the door to the pub opened and she found herself gasp aloud.

The face she’d been imagining ever since she’d left the work – deep brown eyes, soft lips and carelessly ruffled hair stared back at her. As if she’d conjured him from sheer desire alone.

He was here. Clark was here. But how? Had she fallen asleep and imagined him here? She decided in the moment that it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she wasn’t alone and he was here.

He made his way over to her, a look of worried determination on her face and she felt her heart squeeze with relief.

I’ll still be around come closing time…




Of all the things Clark had expected to see as he flew over the city, was Lois walking down the street on her own in the middle of the night. Instinct told him to fly down to her immediately, but he had no idea what he would say or whether he would even be welcome. Her relationship with Superman had been difficult to define at the best of times, but now? Well, now the last thing he wanted to do was complicate his lie even more than he had to.

He knew that it would be impossible to avoid her as Superman forever, but he also couldn’t intrude on her anymore in settings that were even mildly intimate. He’d done enough damage.

Zooming in on her, he noticed her body language as she walked. She’d wrapped her arms around herself as if to protect herself from some unseen danger. She appeared tired and run down and looked as if she didn’t much care where she was or where she was going.

He’d been worried about her all week. Ever since she’d seen him get shot, she’d been different. She insisted she was fine but everything else about her told a different story. He’d noticed the way she seemed to jump at the slightest noise, or the way she hadn’t wanted to let him out of her sight – insisting they go to lunch at the same time every day. She’d been distracted when it came to their work and exhausted in a way he’d never seen before. He'd attempted to talk to her once or twice, but was too afraid to hear what she might say. Too afraid to know exactly how much he’d hurt her.

He’d thought she was going to open up to him earlier that day in the parking lot. And part of him wanted her to. He wanted to be the one she turned to when she was hurting. He wanted to comfort and reassure her. But he didn’t think it was his place to do so when he was responsible for that hurt and she was unaware of it. How would she feel if she bared her soul to him, only to find out he could have easily prevented her pain?

He watched as she stopped and looked around for a moment before heading towards a small pub on the corner and going inside. It was curious behaviour and not like her at all. None of this was like her at all.

He felt torn. He had to talk to her…had to make sure she was okay, but he wasn’t sure how to do that. He knew Superman couldn’t do that. And so even though he knew it was a terrible idea, he made sure he landed somewhere dark and deserted before quickly spinning into a sweater and jeans.

Heart hammering in his chest, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked into the pub.

She looked somewhat stunned when she saw him enter. She was sitting at the back of the pub in a small booth nursing a glass of red wine with a late night pub menu in front of her on the table.

As he walked towards her, a look of profound relief seemed to flood her face mixed with confusion, and Clark had to fight the urge to turn and run. He couldn’t help but think he shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be…

He didn’t get a chance to finish the thought, however, as she stepped out of the booth and into his arms.

“You’re here,” she breathed, her lips brushing softly against his chest. His heart seemed to flip as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, unable to resist the chance to hold her this way. She felt so good nestled in his arms. His chin rested gently on the top of her head and he could smell the floral scent of her shampoo.

He wanted to stay there forever, but he knew he had to step back before he stepped too far outside his role as her best friend. Even being here was a stretch, but he couldn’t just fly by. He couldn’t.

I don’t wanna fall in love with you. I try, try, try, but I can’t get around the truth…

Regardless of how much he knew this would hurt them both, he was a moth being pulled into the flame, and there was nothing he could do.

Thankfully she extracated herself from his arms before he did something truly insane like kiss her. She stepped back and looked at him, her hand resting lightly on his chest as if to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, voicing the question that he’d been dreading since he’d walked through the doors.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he improvised, unable to look at her. Technically it was true. He was trying to stick as closely to the truth as he could, not that it made up for anything. He had been out flying over the city because he’d been unable to keep his mind off of what had happened between them earlier that day. He couldn’t seem to shake the image of her looking up at him, her body vibrating with emotion, eyes silently pleading for a comfort he couldn’t give her.

He’d been unable to stop himself from touching her cheek and brushing the tears away. He’d let himself get too close, and now he was doing it all over again.

“Me either,” she said with a slightly flustered laugh. “But how did you get…here?”

“I went for a walk,” he said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. Lying to her had never come easily to him, but this time it felt especially difficult. “I guess we must have had the same idea. I saw you and decided you might want some company? If you don’t, I can go–”

“No!” she exclaimed, and he almost jumped at the urgency. She gave an embarrassed smile. “I mean…you should stay. I was about to order a late night snack. Great minds?”

She looked around and, realising they were both still standing next to the booth, slid back into her seat. He moved to sit down opposite her, but instead, she reached out and grabbed his hand, urging him to sit down next to her.

He did, and she nestled her head against his shoulder as all the tension seemed to drain from her body. Oh, God, what was he doing?

The bartender approached them, and Clark ordered a glass of red wine for himself and they agreed to share a plate of nachos. The older man went to put the order in, and for about the millionth time, he wondered what he was doing here. What was he hoping to gain from this? How was he making things better?

“This is nice,” Lois was saying as she took a sip of her wine. Her tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that was unmistakable. “I mean the two of us, out for a night at a pub having some nachos. It’s nice, right?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, unsure of what else to say. Was this how it was going to be between them from now on? “It’s…”

“We should do things like this more often,” she continued, fiddling with the edge of her coaster. “Normal things. Spending time together, I mean. We take so much for granted…”

She trailed off and looked away, and Clark tried desperately to ignore the hitch in her voice.

“Lois?” He said helplessly. He had no idea what to say. Should he tell her this was a mistake and leave? Tell her he loved her? Tell her he was Superman? Maybe not the best idea in a public place. But what? She looked back at him, her countenance bone weary.

“The bartender told me those men come here almost nightly to watch the matches,” she said, pointing at the group of older Scottish men huddled around the tv. “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the people in my life and how easy it can be to forget that nothing is permanent.”

“That’s not true,” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. She gave him a long, searching look. “Some things are. Some people are.”

I am, he wanted to say, but held back. He couldn’t speak of love to her while he was still actively lying to her. He wouldn’t do that.

Please don’t say my name. Give this heart a break. I don’t want to make the same mistake..

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not much fun to be around at the moment, am I?”

“You’re exactly where I want to be right now,” he said firmly, as the bartender arrived with their nachos. “There’s no one else I would rather be in a pub with late at night eating nachos and watching European soccer with.”

“Football,” she said with a small laugh. He was grateful for the small spark of banter he could see light up her eyes. “They call it football.”

“Alright,” he said with a nod, hoping to ease some of the tension between them. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks the blue team wins.” She raised an eyebrow.

“The blue team?” She grinned. “Do you really think you should be placing bets on a game where you don’t even know the names of the teams?”

“Do you?” he countered back. He knew the names. It was easy enough to use his super vision to zoom in on the tv. In doing so, he could see the teams in question were Rangers and Celtic. But Clark Kent wouldn’t have been able to do that so he played dumb. And a stab of guilt shot through him as he realised even now he was deceiving her. He couldn’t even sit in a pub and banter with her back and forth without lying to her.

“Of course,” she replied, tipping her chin up defiantly. He could see some of the familiar fire in her eyes. He clamped down on the guilt he felt, telling himself that it was just a small lie, and it had done the job of distracting her, of making her happy.

“Okay,” he grinned, knowing full well she had no idea what the team names were but enjoying the game. “Who are they then?”


“Well, they’re…” She gesticulated wildly at the tv screen and sputtered for a moment before laughing in defeat and saying, “The green team and the blue team?”

“Alright,” he agreed with an easy smile. “I reiterate my bet. Twenty bucks. You can pick which team you want to win.”

“I’ll take green,” she said firmly. Then, as if in answer to a question she hadn’t asked, she gave a soft shrug. “I’m not too fond of blue right now.”

He tried to ignore the pain that rippled through him. He knew that she must have some resentment towards his alter ego for not intervening on his behalf when Clyde Barrow shot him. After all, he’d saved her countless times, but when Clark needed Superman the most he was nowhere to be seen. He could hardly fault her anger.

He nodded and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence as they watched the game and ate their nachos. He could almost forget the circumstances that had led them both here. He could almost forget that his friendship with Lois was dangling on a knife’s edge, and one false move could shatter it completely.

Almost.

Eventually, the game ended and the blue team won.

“I’ll have to go to the bank tomorrow,” Lois said apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark replied, shifting uncomfortably. “It was just a silly bet.”

“You won fair and square,” Lois replied. “I’ll tell you what, how about we do this again sometime and go double or nothing?”

“Anytime,” Clark said softly, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. Somehow he needed her to know that his place was by her side. She nodded.

As the men filed out, Clark checked his watch and saw that it was closing time. The bartender was wiping down the counters and clearing away the excess dishes in a way that told Clark it was time to leave.

He knew that he should say goodnight to her here. Asking for anything more would be pushing his luck, and he had pushed far enough tonight. Too far.

And yet…

It’s 2AM, it’s last call baby. The barkeep’s gone, I’ll walk you home now.

“Can I…” He cleared his throat, suddenly very nervous. “It’s late. I should…”

They both stood up and she nodded, threading her arms through his.

“Walk me home?” she asked, her voice small and hopeful.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “I’d like that.”

Leaving a few bills on the table, they headed out the door. Clark’s heart felt like lead as they headed towards her apartment. He knew that he was losing his ability to resist telling her how he felt and he knew that when he did, it would be a disaster.

Save me…baby…



He was walking her home. It was like walking through some sort of very odd dream. She wondered more than once throughout the evening if she had actually managed to fall asleep and this was the dream she’d had. After all, for the first time since the fateful night Clark had been shot, she’d managed to relax. She’d seen him enter the bar and something inside her unclenched. She had pulled him into the booth and they’d managed to have what could have been a lovely evening any other night under different circumstances. She hadn’t been able to forget what had happened, but she had been able to put it out of her mind for a while and just…be.

And then the night had ended and the pub had closed, and the moment they got up to leave, Lois felt that old familiar panic take root. She didn’t want him to go. And even now as they walked to her apartment, her arm in his, her mind racked itself to think of excuses for him to stay the night. It seemed, rather logically, that his presence was the only thing that could keep the nightmares at bay.

It was ridiculous, of course. She couldn’t ask him to stay over every night. And yet, she wanted to. She was shocked to discover that the idea of being with him every day and night was not at all unpleasant. She had no idea what that meant or if he would even share that desire. All she knew was when they reached her door, she couldn’t let him leave.

“Here you are,” Clark said as they reached her doorstep. “Safe as houses.”

She was a little embarrassed to realise she hadn’t wandered far from her apartment at all. One or two wrong turns had brought her to that little Scottish pub, and she made a mental note to find it again during the daylight hours.

“Thank you,” she said. Her stomach was full of butterflies. “Would you like to come up?”

“I should go…” he replied, though he made no move to leave. They lingered there a moment longer, his eyes searching her own for something, though she had no idea what. Eventually, she saw something inside him relent. “Actually, yeah, I’ll come up. Just for a minute.”

She nodded, and the two entered her apartment silently. They both removed their shoes and Lois set to work putting the kettle on. Clark sat down awkwardly on her sofa looking bizarrely out of place and uncomfortable. It was odd and reminded her of the few times that Superman had shown up in her apartment to tell her something. He seemed to carry himself with that same sense of unease. What was he afraid of? Was he having nightmares too?

“You like chamomile, right?” she asked, casting sidelong glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He was holding a throw pillow, turning it over and over, clearly deeply lost in thought. “Clark?”

The sound of his name seemed to startle him back to reality and he stood up.

“Actually, I really do think I should go,” he repeated and Lois felt her stomach drop. She didn’t want him to go. Not tonight. She could still see it… “We’ve got work tomorrow and we’re both going to be so tired as it is…”

“I was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” Lois said quietly. She hadn’t been, but suddenly taking the day off made perfect sense. An idea seized her. “You could too! We could play hooky together. Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do last year, Clark? We could just stay in and watch movies!”


She paced back and forth, aware that she sounded a little manic. Clark’s brow was furrowed, and he placed his hands in his pockets as if unsure what to do with himself.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked her. “This…staying up all night, playing hooky…it isn’t like you.”

“How can you ask me that?” Lois asked, baffled and so very confused. How could he be standing there looking so completely and totally normal when it felt as if her world was spinning out of control? “Of course I’m not okay! What I don’t understand is how you can be! I mean you died, Clark! Only a few days ago. I watched you fall and they took you away and…”

Her throat constricted tightly and she turned away, not wanting him to see the sudden rush of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to…”

He trailed off as well, clearly struggling to find the right words. She bit her lip, trying to keep the sobs from overtaking her.

“You’re just so…” She tried not to feel angry, though the anger was there, just below the surface. “There aren’t any dark circles under your eyes and you…you don’t seem frightened at all. Your hands don’t shake every time you pour your coffee, and I just don’t understand how you don’t see it every time you close your eyes because it’s all I see. It’s all I’ve been seeing for the last few nights. I’m falling apart and you…you’re acting like it’s just another Wednesday. How?”

I don’t wanna fall in love with you. I try, try, try, but I can’t get around the truth.

“It’s hard to explain,” he said, his voice strained. “And I want to tell you. I want to, but…”

“But what?” she asked, her voice softening slightly. She realised it wasn’t fair of her to demand anything of him. After all, he’d been the one who died. He’d been the one who had given up his life, with no guarantee he’d get it back. How could anyone put that into words?

“I’m not sure I’m ready,” he said, and she couldn’t miss the look of self loathing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I caused you any pain. I didn’t think this would…I mean, I knew you cared, but I didn’t think you’d–”

“What?” she interrupted, anger taking the reins despite her best efforts. “Didn’t think I’d mourn you? Miss you? You died…for me. You put yourself in front of a bullet meant for me and now it’s all I see when I…Do you really think it wouldn’t be a big deal to me? Or think we could just…go back to the newsroom the next day as if it never happened?”

“I guess I didn’t see it that way,” he replied, unable to look her in the eye. “As me…dying. For you, I mean. I just saw the gun and…reacted. It wasn’t some great heroic feat.”

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed angrily. His head jerked up sharply, startled by her ferocity. “Don’t you dare act like this was nothing! Do you know how many people have thrown themselves in front of a bullet for me, Clark? Do you know what it’s like to know that someone…my best friend…”

“Lois–”

“No, you’re going to listen,” she said, her entire body shaking with pain, grief, fear and all the other feelings she’d been trying to hold inside. “You gave up everything. You told me you loved me last year, and then you took it back and I believed you and then…”

A strangled sob escaped her lips, and he was beside her almost instantly.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said, his voice almost pleading with her. “I’m not some hero. I’m not…”

The name hung in the air and Lois rounded on him.

“No, you’re not, you’re better,” she said, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes. “He wasn’t there. He didn’t save you. He didn’t save me. He–”

“Lois, stop!” Clark interrupted, his voice hard but with a slightly desperate edge. “Please don’t…don’t compare it. Don’t…I just want to forget it happened.”

“Well, I hope you’re more successful than I am, because I can’t. I can’t seem to forget. Every time I turn around, I’m terrified I’m going to lose you again. Terrified you’ll do something stupidly heroic the next time someone tries to hurt me and–”

“I’m not a hero!” he yelled. Lois stepped back, startled slightly. She wasn’t used to seeing him angry. Not like this. “You want to see how heroic I am, Lois? You want to know the truth? Look!”

She watched, not able to believe her eyes as the man she thought of as her mild-mannered partner suddenly spun so fast she couldn’t see, revealing when he stopped the familiar shock of the red and blue Superman suit. It took a moment before the truth of what was in front of her fully registered.

“Oh, God, you’re…”

“A coward,” he spat furiously. “A man who faked his death to save his own skin. A man who let you grieve, let you hurt while I walked away without a scratch. No scars, no bruises, not even a papercut. Since the day I arrived here, you’ve treated me like I walked on water, but I’ve never been a hero. I’m the farthest thing from it. I didn’t die for you, Lois. I risked nothing that night.”

It was Clark, but it wasn’t.

Lois’ mind raced to try to process what she was seeing and hearing.

It was Superman, but it wasn’t.

He was wearing the suit, but still had his glasses on and his hair was ruffled the way Clark usually wore it and his voice…

How had she not seen this before? A pair of glasses, a different hairstyle and she’d been totally fooled? But it wasn’t just the hair and the glasses. It was the way he stood, the way he moved and spoke. Every single part of him had been a carefully crafted lie. And Lois had believed every part of it.

Until now.

She couldn’t think and she certainly couldn’t respond. Her legs felt unsteady as she walked over to her couch and sank down into it, her head in her hands.

She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. She wanted to yell, but the moment she looked at him, the words left her. He was still standing there, slightly breathless from his outburst, his eyes wild and uncertain. Though his words had been shot at her in anger, the main emotion that seemed to be radiating off of him was fear.

She looked at him for a moment, trying to speak, to say something…anything. And then he spoke again.

Please don’t make me beg, give this heart a break. I don’t wanna make the same mistake…

“Lois…” his voice broke ever so slightly on her name. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“What…what do you want me to say to that?” Lois asked, feeling helpless as emotions swirled through her. It was ironic that in this moment – this moment where he felt furthest away from her, she seemed to need him more than ever.

“I…” He ran a weary hand over the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I couldn’t let you continue to–”

“To what?” she interrupted, suddenly terrified of what he might say next. He shook his head sadly.

“To mourn for me.” His shoulders slumped, and suddenly he wasn’t Superman. He was Clark Kent in a costume, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that. “You seemed to be grieving. I couldn’t let you think I was something I wasn’t. I was never in any real danger, Lois. I know you’ll hate me for that, and you have every right to, but I couldn’t keep lying to you. It was too hard. It was just too hard.”

Lois could hear the pain in his voice, and something tugged at her heart. She knew him. She’d known him for two years now. Deep down inside, she knew what a good man he was. But this lie, this monumental lie…

“Could you…” she hesitated, “could you take off the suit? I mean…put Clark’s clothes…your clothes back on? I can’t…it’s just too much. I need my partner right now.” She fought to keep her voice steady. She felt so unsure of where things stood between them, but knew she couldn’t have this conversation any other way.

He nodded and spun back into the sweater and jeans he’d had on earlier. She felt herself relax at the sight of him. Her partner. Her best friend.

The pieces started falling into place as he slowly, tentatively walked over to where she sat. She moved over ever so slightly, indicating that he was safe for him to sit down and he did so. Neither of them spoke. Lois wasn’t sure if it was because he knew she needed space to process or if it was because he was too ashamed. Maybe it was both.

Either way, she thought of that night once more, desperately trying to erase the image of his death. After all, he’d never died. Hadn’t even come close. It made sense. She hadn’t remembered seeing any blood.

Had she not been so traumatised, she might have wondered about that, but as it was, she couldn’t think of that night without reliving the agony of watching him fall and seeing him dragged away as she sat on the floor, calling his name.

She hadn’t even realised she was crying until she heard Clark’s soft but anguished voice beside her.

“Don’t cry,” he pleaded. “Please, don’t cry.”

It was the tone of his voice mingled with his nearness that caused the flood of emotions to open. She suddenly found herself sobbing, head in her hands, as the grief, heartache, relief and anger ripped through her all at once. She felt his arm wrap gently around her, and the soothing rumble of his voice, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

She melted into the embrace, resting her head against his chest as she cried. His arms were strong and safe, and though she wasn’t sure what to do with the information she now possessed, she did know one clear and incontrovertible fact: he was still here.

Once the tears subsided, she felt exhaustion set in. She hadn’t slept properly in days. She knew that she would almost certainly be taking the next day off, as she couldn’t possibly imagine being expected to function at work on so little sleep and such emotional turmoil.

It was so tempting to just fall asleep here in his arms. He seemed perfectly willing to hold her as long as she needed him to. And yet, there was so much between them that needed to be said.

The deep gnawing grief that had all but consumed her these past few days had lifted. Clark was safe. He had never been in any real danger. She hadn’t lost him. Not really. And yet, everything had changed. He wasn’t the same man she thought she knew.

She sat back and looked up at him, taking in every feature of his face in that moment. His expression radiated affection and worry but also fear. He was afraid. She understood that fear all too well. She’d been living it for the last few days.

“You never really died,” she finally murmured. She reached up and placed a hand lightly on his chest. “You never left.”

“I did,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “I did leave. I left when you needed me most. Left you to think I…”

Her heart hurt a little at the admission. She couldn’t help but feel angry. But she couldn’t hate him. It surprised her, given that she had so much difficulty trusting people, but looking into those sincere brown eyes, she knew that she could never hate him. Especially not now. Now when he needed her.

“You came back,” she told him. He looked at her in surprise. “You found a way back.”

“I got lucky,” he said somewhat bitterly. “If I hadn’t thought of using Dr. Hamilton’s notes…”

“But you did,” she repeated. She reached up and touched his cheek. “You did.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” he whispered, unable to meet her gaze. “You can’t possibly forgive me. Not after I hurt you like this.”

“Out of the two of us, which one is the boss of me?” Lois asked gently. He finally looked at her and chuckled. She pursed her lips. “Besides, I didn’t say I forgive you. Not completely. What you did hurt. It hurt because you let me think I not only lost my best friend, but the man I…”

She trailed off and swallowed, her throat tight. She wasn’t sure she could say it right now. The hurt went too deep.

“I forgive you a little bit. I can’t help it.” A hot tear slid down her cheek and landed on her pant leg. “And in time, I will forgive you a bit more. And then a bit more. Because you came back.”

“I guess I just don’t understand why you’d even want me to come back” Clark said, sounding hopelessly adrift. “After everything I’ve done. All the lies I’ve told…the way I hurt you.”

“Part of me doesn’t understand it either,” she admitted. “I’ve been lied to so many times by men that I told myself I wouldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t fall for someone who lied to me. And then you came along.”

She drew a shuddering breath and gave a sheepish smile. “And there was something about you. I couldn’t help myself. I broke all my rules and I told myself it was okay because Clark Kent was honest.”

She noticed the way he winced at those words and part of her – the hurt and angry part felt slightly satisfied.

“I’m as far from honest as you get,” Clark muttered.

“Maybe,” she acknowledged. She stood up and went into the kitchen to finish making the tea she’d started. She made two cups for both of them and returned to hand one to Clark who was sitting there, head hung in silence. He seemed confused and uncertain, as if he was unable to go but wasn’t sure he should stay.

Once she’d had a sip of her tea, things started to feel a bit more clear. Her body was more exhausted than it had ever been, but her mind had started to come out of the fog of grief she’d been consumed by and she was able to look at Clark in a different light.

“You did lie to me,” she told him, feeling a hot flush of anger as she said it. But just as quickly as it flared, it died away again – banished by one look from those deep brown eyes. “But you also taught me something. You taught me that everybody lies, but that no two lies are equal. You lied to protect your family, your friends and yourself. You didn’t lie to hurt me or to cause me pain. I know that because I know you.”

“Lois I –”

“Clark, please, I feel like I need to say this with no interruptions.” He nodded and she reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it and that simple act of communication gave her the courage to continue. “I also learned that even heroes have feet of clay. So some of this is my fault, too. After all, I held you up to an impossible standard that nobody – human or alien – could ever hope to meet.”

“Nobody would blame you for expecting Superman to be beyond reproach,” he said quietly. “I created him to be a symbol for hope and honesty. I'm sorry I couldn’t be the hero you thought I was.”

“Why, because you didn’t die for me?” Lois said, a little harsher than she intended. “I never wanted you to. I don’t want a hero. I thought I did. But I realise now that what I want is a man who has flaws and who makes mistakes but at the end of the day a man who always comes back.”

She felt tears threaten again as she looked at him, and she wondered if she’d said too much. Several times now she’d mentioned her feelings for him but he had yet to say he felt the same way. Still, if this had taught her anything, it was that life was short and she needed to say how she felt now or she would regret it.

“I don’t want you to die for me,” she said again, and he reached up and gently brushed his thumb against her cheek. “Every moment of those twenty-four hours when I thought you were gone was…well, I never knew I could feel like that. Getting you back was a gift. I’d be a fool to waste it.”

“Are you saying you…” He looked at her hesitantly…hopefully. “I love you, Lois. I wasn’t going to tell you. I felt I had no right to tell you. Not after everything I did. But for some reason beyond my comprehension you –”

“I do,” she replied, a feeling of pure elation sweeping through her as she saw the truth of his feelings in his eyes and his voice. “I have since day one, I think, though I didn’t know it. I don’t know what that means for us going forward, but I know that nothing is guaranteed, not even if you are Superman, and I don’t want to take the chance that –”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice low and intense. “Not now, not ever. And I plan to spend every moment of every day proving that to you if that’s what it takes.”

“I know,” she said, leaning forward and brushing her lips against his in the barest hint of a kiss. “And you’re wrong you know.”

“I know,” he replied. Then, after a beat said, “which part specifically am I wrong about?”

“When you said earlier that you risked nothing that night,” she replied. It suddenly dawned on her just what the consequences would have been had he not been able to claim that Dr. Hamilton’s research had saved him. “You might not have died for me, but you risked everything that night. You would have had to give up your life as Clark Kent, your job, your friends…you would have lost everything.”

“I would have lost you,” he said, his voice ragged and laden with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”

Without thinking, she kissed him a second time, this time with a quiet edge of desperation that betrayed what they were both feeling. He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him and running his hands gently through her hair and down her shoulders. He was warm and solid and smelled oh-so-good.

When they pulled back, both were short of breath. Lois could tell by the look on his face how deeply affected he was by the kiss and had to restrain herself from kissing him again, from letting herself get carried away. She needed to go slow. After everything, she couldn’t rush things.

“You haven’t lost me,” she told him. “But you have to promise me, Clark. Promise me that you won’t leave me. Promise me that you won’t –”


“I promise,” he vowed, pulling her close for a slightly rougher and more desperate kiss. “I promise, I promise,” he murmured over and over again in between soft, gentle kisses.

“Good,” she said after he finally pulled away. “Because I need you to start tonight. I need you to…” She took a deep breath. “I need you to stay. To hold me. I need you beside me tonight. Will you stay?”

“As long as you want me to,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

It’s too late. I’ll leave on the light. These arms are open all night…

The End