Well, as you'll see, they still have a few things to work out before they go back to dragon fighting.
Thank you, all of you who are still reading this, for your comments and suggestions. And more importantly, thank you for your patience with the extended intervals between postings. That might continue for the next couple of sections; I've got a lot written, but much of it is still rough and needs polishing. And this pesky RL stuff keeps interrupting me.
From part 22:
“Tell you what - you put away the leftover food, and I’ll do the dishes,” she suggested. She winked at him, turned back to the sink, and tossed over her shoulder, “Race ya!”
“Lois -!” she heard him laughingly exclaim, as she poured on the speed.
Seconds later, finishing, she dried the last plate, hung up the towel, then slowed and turned back to him, laughing. “Ha!”
He was still a blur, but as she turned fully toward him, he slowed, and she saw him shut the refrigerator. He, too, was laughing. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he said, “You win!” He moved toward her, gathering her into a hug. “…You goof,” he murmured. As she laughed up at him, snuggling closer, he dropped a quick kiss onto her lips. Then sobering, he slid one hand up to cup the back of her head and kissed her again, more deeply.
It was several minutes before they separated slightly, Lois laying her head against his chest just over his heart. He kissed her hair, then laid his cheek against the top of her head, and they just stood that way for a while, there in his kitchen, enjoying the freedom to hold each other like this.
Finally, he stirred, arms loosening from around her. “Let me make some more coffee and then let’s go sit down,” he suggested. “We can watch a movie, or just talk.” He kissed her lightly. “And I can hold you.”---
The Girl Next Door, part 23:
They sat together on his comfortable couch, more or less watching the featured movie on one of the cable channels. After a while, though, Lois resumed the conversation they’d started earlier.
Hitching around a bit from where she sat tucked up against him, under his arm, she turned so she could look at him. “I do think you hear cries for help more easily, Clark.”
“Well… we talked about that earlier,” he said. “Remember, I had the kind of support you never had…”
“Yes, and I agree – I do think I’ve probably… I guess you could say ‘trained’… myself not to hear many of them –“ She scootched around a bit more, sitting with her legs crossed Indian style so that she could face him.
He straightened up, too, from where he was sprawled down into the corner of the couch. “…Unless they’re close, or it’s something really big, though,” he reminded her. “I think you hear those. You heard the fire, for instance,” he pointed out.
“Yeah… Actually,” she mused, “I think that’s because I’ve been hanging around with you so much.” And as he cocked an eyebrow at her in inquiry, she continued seriously, “Really, Clark - I think I’ve actually started to… hear more of it – people in need - since you’ve been Superman. Maybe I’ve become more… sort of in tune with your ability, or how you think…”
He laughed, and leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on her mouth.
She frowned at him, but the effect was spoiled when she giggled. “Quit distracting me, Kent.”
He laughed again. “…And I think we’ve got some sort of ability to… not exactly read each other’s minds, since it doesn’t happen all the time, but to have a better-than-normal ability to know what the other is thinking.”
“Yeah? Right now I’m thinking that you hear more of those cries because you’re more altruistic - more empathetic…”
He sobered. Taking her hands in his, he said earnestly, “Lois, you have a lot of empathy for others. You do. Or you wouldn’t be as good at your job as you are. You can’t tell me you don’t care, because it’s obvious that you do.”
“Well, okay… But you’re the more… uninhibitedly empathetic.” When he laughed, she insisted, “Really. It’s part of your natural makeup; you’re always willing to lend a hand…”
“Like a boy scout?” He grinned at her. “A big, brightly-colored one? That flies?”
She swatted at him. “Well, if the boots and cape fit, flyboy…” She continued seriously, “I mean it, Clark. You *are* more altruistic -“
“But remember, I grew up that way,” he reminded her gently. “Mom and Dad actively encouraged me to help others in need… Of course, that was back when we thought that meant carrying someone’s groceries, or mowing an elderly neighbor’s lawn…” he added wryly.
She laughed, but then sobered again. “I think that’s why you hear more cries for help, Clark. I’m more… more driven –“
“You do have a sort of bulldog tenacity,” he said teasingly.
“Yeah… Mad Dog Lane, that’s me,” she said ruefully.
He stood up, bringing her with him, and tugged her gently against him. She went willingly into his arms, tipping her face up toward his. “Ah…” he said, barely above a whisper, and kissed her lightly. “But you’re *my* Mad Dog Lane –“ He kissed her again, a fleeting and gentle brush of his lips. “And you’re –“ Another feather-light kiss. “…Perfect just the way you are…” Again, he lifted his lips from hers, and this time, his mouth remained poised just a hair’s breadth away from hers, waiting...
With a moan, she closed the distance between them, and kissed him, letting everything she felt for him flow into the kiss. He groaned and began kissing her back in earnest.
---
It was quite some time before she became aware of their surroundings again to find that they were floating about six inches above the couch. She dimly remembered sinking back down onto it at some point during that incredible kiss, Clark pulling her down to rest against him. After that, she’d lost all contact with the world around them, and apparently with the bonds of gravity, too. Lifting her head to look down at him, she saw that he looked as dazed as she felt.
She laid her head on his chest, listening to the fast but steady beat of his heart, and felt him bring them both down onto the couch cushions again. He shifted slightly to the side, so that she was lying partly beside him and partly on him, and she felt his arms tighten around her.
“Mmmm…” he murmured, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of her head. It was a sweetly protective gesture, probably unconscious on his part, but it made her feel cherished.
She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sound of his heartbeat, until it was all that she heard. She had no desire to move. Vaguely, she wondered what time it was. She should look, or ask Clark. In a minute or two she would…
She was woken some time later when Clark stirred and shifted against her. Reflexively, she looped her arms around his neck as he raised himself on one elbow, shifting further so that he was partially above her. She opened her eyes, gazing up at him sleepily, then closed them again and tipped her head back, raising her mouth to his as he tugged her further under him and kissed her gently.
“Lois,” he whispered against her mouth. “Wake up, honey.”
“Mmm’awake,” she murmured, seeking his lips again.
“Are you?” he asked with a soft laugh. He kissed her again, another soft and gentle brush of his lips, as she shifted her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged him down to her. “You’re making it hard for me to concentrate, Lois…”
She succeeded in bringing him into reach, and pressed her lips against his, inviting him to deepen the kiss.
With a groan, he did so, and she moaned softly.
After a few more delicious moments, he raised his head reluctantly. “Lois, sweetheart… C’mon, honey, wake up…” he said softly. “It’s getting late…”
“Don’ wanna go home yet,” she murmured, eyes still closed. “Wanna stay here with you…”
“Lois…” He kissed her closed eyes, her forehead, her jaw, and finally, her mouth again – sweet, soft caresses. “I don’t want you to go, either. But Superman has to do a patrol – he told Henderson he’d be doing nightly patrols about this time.”
She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “But this is so nice,” she murmured. “I like this so much better than my alarm clock, Clark.” She reached up and pressed a string of small kisses along his jaw. “…Just a few more minutes…?”
He groaned and kissed her again, as if he couldn’t help it, and his kiss, while still gentle, was much less fleeting this time.
Now fully awake, she stretched against him, and felt more than heard him catch his breath.
“Stop that,” he growled, his voice suddenly lower and rougher. But he was seeking her lips again even as the words left his mouth, and this time his kiss was strong and deep and fiercely passionate, demanding – and getting – an equally passionate response from her.
By the time he lifted his head again, she was shaking. So was Clark. She felt the tremors in his big body where he lay against her. She was panting, gazing up at him, dazed and wide-eyed.
“Oh, love,” he whispered. He rolled slightly, moving onto his side and tucking her against him, her head under his chin and his arms tightly around her. “Here, give me a few moments, okay?” He was almost panting, and she rested against him, marveling at the power of the kiss as she caught her own breath.
Gradually, his tremors eased, and his arms loosened slightly from around her. He still held her close, but the desperate urgency had eased. Her own heartbeat was returning to normal, and while she was still trembling, her tremors, too, were easing.
After a few moments, he carefully sat up, bringing her with him, still tucked close against him. “I didn’t intend to let things get out of hand,” he said softly. “But you make me lose my head, Lois.” He pulled back slightly, looking intently at her. “I didn’t frighten you, did I?”
“No,” she said, smiling softly at him. “It was… Will it always be like that, Clark?”
“It was…?” he echoed, looking at her searchingly.
“It was exhilarating.” She gazed back at him equally seriously. “Will it always be like that?” she repeated.
“I… don’t know. But… yes, I think it might.” He smiled tenderly. “Will that be all right? I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“I trust you, Clark.” She reached up and gently touched his mouth. He kissed her fingers as they moved over his lips. “And I love you. I’m not ready yet for… Well, for complete… intimacy. But I think – I know – that I will be, in time. With you.” Her mouth quirked into a slight grin. “I already know that I like the practicing very, very much.”
He laughed and hugged her against him again, and then rose to his feet, offering her a hand. She took it because she wanted to hold his hand, and when she was standing, she meshed her fingers with his.
He raised their joined hands and kissed her fingers. “Ready for some more coffee? Or maybe some hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate would be nice… But what about Superman’s patrol?” she asked curiously.
He grinned at her. “He’s somewhat flexible. He’s going to postpone the patrol for half an hour or so, so he can spend some more with you before he has to go.” His grin widened when she chuckled. Squeezing her hand before letting go, he continued, “C’mon. I’ll show you how Mom makes hot chocolate.”
She followed him into the kitchen area and watched as he began to assemble ingredients. He set a jug of milk on the counter, then opened a cupboard and set out a small bottle of ground cinnamon, a bottle of vanilla extract, a jar of what looked like twigs, and a chocolate bar. She moved closer, curious. She’d heard of cooking chocolate; did it look just like a candy bar, then?
“Mom likes to use real chocolate instead of cooking chocolate,” Clark told her. “It’s already sweetened. I bring her gourmet bars from a small place in Switzerland, and I usually keep one or two on hand here, too.”
She nodded. “I wondered. I’m used to the packets of powder you dump in hot water or milk.”
He kissed her quickly. “This is much better. You’ll see.”
She watched as he opened one of the lower cabinets, took out a small pan, and set it on the stove. He set two mugs on the counter, then opened one of the drawers and got out the small grater he’d used to grate Parmesan cheese for their meal earlier in the evening.
“It has cheese in it?” she asked in surprise, as he began unwrapping the chocolate bar.
He laughed. “No, honey. I’m going to grate the chocolate with it.”
“Oh.” Embarrassed, she opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could say anything, he popped a small piece of the chocolate into her mouth, following it with another quick kiss.
“I love you, Lois,” he whispered. “Exactly as you are.”
It was the best chocolate she’d ever tasted. “Oh, wow.”
He laughed softly. “The chocolate, or the kiss?” he teased, beginning to grate the rest of the chocolate bar into the pan.
“Both,” she said with a laugh.
He laughed again. “Flatterer.” Finishing with the chocolate, he offered her the small piece still remaining. “Here, honey. And can you get me the whisk, please? It’s in the second drawer down, below the silverware.”
“Sure.” She put the chocolate into her mouth and pulled the drawer open. “Um… what’s a whisk, Clark?”
“The metal thing with the loops of wire on one end,” he said. “You use it to mix up ingredients when you want to add air to the mix – like with eggs, or hot chocolate. It’ll make the milk foamy.”
“Okay.” She found the item and handed it over, and then watched as he poured a small amount of milk into the pan, added a couple of drops of vanilla, shook some cinnamon over the mixture, and turned on the heat under the pan.
He glanced at her with a small smile.
“You know… We haven’t really talked about it,” he said, “But I’ve been wondering… do you want to be a superhero, too?” He was pouring the rest of the milk slowly into the pan, stirring it with the whisk at the same time.
“I don’t know…” she said slowly. She’d never really thought about it, actually.
He lifted the pan from the heat and poured the mixture into the two mugs. It certainly smelled good.
“I’ve done all my dragon fighting this way – as a reporter – for so long… I don’t know if I want to – or… *could*…” She frowned. Despite the existence of Superman, she hadn’t actually thought about becoming a superhero herself.
“Well, I don’t see why you *couldn’t*,” he said. “But we could talk to Mom about it…” He opened the jar of twigs and took out two of them. “Cinnamon – the way it looks before it’s ground up,” he explained, seeing her look of inquiry. “You stir the chocolate with it; it adds a… subtle something extra to the taste.”
He put one stick into each mug, then brought both of them over to where she leaned against the counter, and handed her one.
She took it from him. “Get her advice, you mean?” She took a long, appreciative sniff, and then sipped at it slowly, savoring it. “Mmmmm… That’s so good!” she exclaimed.
He laughed. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? It’s Mom’s recipe – she adapted an old recipe of her aunt’s. It was already good, but when she switched to the gourmet chocolate…” He grinned. “And yes, we could ask her what she thinks – her and Dad – but what I meant was get some ideas for a costume.” He gestured toward the living room.
“Oh…” As she moved toward the couch, she thought about that for a few moments. “The only problem I can see,” she said slowly, stopping and turning toward him, “is that we’re together on the job – partners at the Daily Planet…” She glanced rather shyly at him. “And… from what you said, together as…” She hesitated.
He took the mug from her, set it – and his - on the coffee table, and taking hold of her shoulders, turned her to face him fully. Both hands slid out to gently cup her outer arms, then down to take her hands in his. Looking directly at her, he finished, “As a couple. Yes.” He kissed her gently. “Never doubt I want that.”
He squeezed her hands gently, then let them go and picked up the two mugs again. She accepted hers from him and sipped again. The liquid was still very hot. The temperature of the treat wasn’t an issue to either of them, of course, but hot chocolate deserved to be savored in slow sips, not guzzled down in gulps.
“Well…” She continued slowly, “If there’s also two superheroes… What if someone makes the connection between…” She gestured between the two of them with her free hand. “Well, it might be easier to make that connection. If there’s two reporters, and two superheroes… Anyway, what would my name be? How would we explain me? It would be too much of a coincidence if I just sort of showed up, you know? Out of the blue?”
“You mean like saying, ‘This is…’ Oh, I don’t know…” He grinned. “Like saying, ‘This is Superman’s wife?’ “
She laughed. “Yeah.”
“I never thought about any of that.” He sat down on the couch and beckoned to her, patting the spot beside him invitingly.
She sat down next to him and drank some more of her hot chocolate, savoring each mouthful for a few moments, before continuing. “And here’s another thing, by the way… We can’t – shouldn’t – appear to be too closely associated with Superman. We, the reporters.”
He nodded. “Because… if we’re his apparent friends, we’d possibly be targeted by criminals looking for leverage or revenge?”
“Well, yes, but also… Because it could be another clue. To Superman’s identity.” She shook her head wryly. “I can’t believe that I, Lois Lane, reporter, am saying this, but I think… the less we’re associated with Superman, the better.” She sighed. “That means… if at all possible, other reporters need to get stories about Superman. Preferably, the *Planet’s* other reporters, of course,” she added as Clark laughed.
“We *are* investigative reporters, though, Lois,” he reminded her. “So we could keep the stories involving criminal situations, I think. I – We – can try to steer our City Desk guys toward accidents… But there’s nothing wrong in Lane and Kent looking into a bank robbery, or a suspicious fire, or the apprehension of some criminal.”
She smiled at him over the rim of the mug. “Now that idea is much more appealing than giving up all of our Superman stories.” She leaned forward slightly and whispered playfully, “The reporter part of me likes your compromise very much.”
He moved nearer. “And all of us – the reporter part of me, the ordinary-guy-who’s-in-love-with-you part of me, and the Superman part of me – are very happy that you’re happy,” he teased her, and stole a quick kiss over the mug of hot chocolate. “Mmmmm. You taste happy, too,” he added.
She laughed.
“You do raise some good points, Lois,” he continued. “But if you really do want to be a superhero too… Well, maybe we could find a way to work around it…”
“I don’t think I *do* want to be a superhero, Clark,” she replied. “I do want to help, of course, but… I really am happy providing behind-the-scenes support…”
“But…”
“No, really, Clark,” she insisted. “Besides, I still think you’re better at this whole hero thing. You hear people more often, and farther away, and I think you can determine more easily than I can what needs to be done.”
“How do you figure?” he asked curiously.
“Well, the bomb in the shuttle, for instance.” She waved her hand in emphasis, forgetting she still held the partially full mug, and almost spilled it. Clark made a grab for it as she righted it just in time. “Whoops! Don’t want to waste a single drop of this stuff!” she exclaimed.
He laughed.
“The bomb in the shuttle,” she repeated. “I had no experience with that; I had no idea what to do. It’s very possible – extremely likely, in fact – that that sort of thing would happen often. You, at least, have experience dealing with… you know, walking into fires or getting rid of bombs. Or even just foiling bank robbers.” She grinned at him. “I bet you just gather them up and secure them with whatever you find that’ll work as a rope, to whatever is available - like a lamp pole… Me? I’d be *so* tempted to kick some serious butt, first.”
He threw his head back and laughed heartily.
“Lois,” he said, still smiling. “Your instincts are good. I think you’d adapt easily. You’re right that I have more experience at it right now, but...”
“It’s not that I don’t want to help,” she reminded him anxiously.
“Lois,” he said gently, “I know that. You help all the time. Sometimes covertly, using your powers - but more often overtly, using your skill as an investigative reporter. And I’ll say it again: you have a real knack for finding and exposing corruption, and greed, and evil…”
“And *you’re* better at the… helping-old-ladies-across-the-street stuff.” She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh! I mean, you’re a good reporter – an excellent reporter,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean that you weren’t –“
Clark laughed gently. “I knew what you meant, Lois.”
“I didn’t mean that like it sounded, Clark,” she said worriedly, patting his chest anxiously with her free hand.
He rescued the tipping mug again, then kissed her gently. “I know,” he whispered against her lips.” He pulled back again, and continued thoughtfully, “I think you are… the… 'sniffer'… in this partnership…”
She laughed. “The *sniffer*? I’m not sure if I’m being insulted, Kent!”
Now it was his turn to hurriedly reassure her. “No… that’s not a real good choice of words, I guess.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then cupped her cheek affectionately. “I was thinking along the lines of that bulldog tenacity of yours – I meant that you can sense… *feel*… when a situation smells. I’m not talking about… ESP or anything. But I do think you’re just… finely attuned to falseness - malevolent falseness, or evil - in others.”
“Maybe it’s a gender-specific thing among Kryptonians.”
“Yes… it could be, I guess. The fact is, you do seem to find it where no one else spots it. Including me.”
She sipped some more hot chocolate as he finished his and leaned forward to set the empty mug on the coffee table. “And maybe you really are just better at hearing people in need.” She grinned impishly at him. “Maybe it really *is* nature, not nurture.”
He laughed again. “Or maybe it’s both,” he rejoined playfully.
She finished the last of her hot chocolate and set the mug on the coffee table, next to his. “So we’re agreed? You wear the suit, Flyboy, and I’ll stay here behind the scenes.”
He chuckled. “Lois, you could never stay behind the scenes.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean. You do the fancy, flashy, red-cape-and-blue-suit stuff, and I’ll help provide the excuses. And I’ll keep… sniffing out the stories. After all, I’m good at that, you know,” she added smugly.
Clark kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, you are.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about me; I can protect myself,” she added.
He sobered. “Lois, you may be super-powered, but you can’t exactly let people know that…”
She stood up, glancing back saucily at him as she moved toward the open space near the kitchen. “You’re forgetting the TKD.”
“The what?” He looked adorably confused.
She smiled at him. “Come here, Clark,” she said sweetly.
Automatically, he moved toward her. “Lois, what do you mean -“
Before he could finish the question, she’d flipped him over her shoulder in as smooth a Tae Kwon Do move as her instructor could ever hope for. Only Clark’s quick reflexes saved him from hitting the floor. With a growl, he rose into the air.
With a shriek of laughter, she darted upward and away from him. He caught her in midair and dove for the couch, where he proceeded to kiss her until they were both short of breath.
When he finally let her up for air, she managed to say teasingly, “Just remember, I *let* you catch me, Flyboy.”
He laughed, gave her one more kiss, and then stood up, pulling her to her feet at the same time. Spinning quickly into the suit, he crossed his arms across his chest in Superman’s usual stance and said mock sternly, “Now that you’ve been dealt with, I’ll begin my nightly patrol.” Then he ruined the effect by cupping her face in his hands and kissing her again.
“Want to come with me?” he whispered. “I don’t want to say goodnight to you, yet. It’s dark… no one will see you if we stay up high. And we could stop at your place for your ‘flying clothes’ if you want…”
Tempted, she thought about it for a minute or two. She wasn’t really ready to say goodnight to him, yet, either. Smiling at him, she nodded. “Yes.”
His smile widened and he extended his hand to her. When she took it, he walked with her into the bedroom. Stepping out onto the balcony with her at his side, he smiled down at her and said softly, “Fly with me?”
With an answering smile, she tightened her hand in his and stepped into the air with him.
-----
To be continued
