The Kiss Off
By CC Aiken and Erin Klingler
Fundraiser Fic, 2005
from part 3:
She shook herself free of her thoughts--for all of a second as the final countdown loomed large and daunting.
"Six!"
"Maybe we should have some rules of our own," she blurted.
"Five!"
"Such as?" he murmured, looking at her quizzically.
"Four!"
"You know, that this is just business. An arrangement. We're here for the car and that's it."
"Three!"
"You said that all in one breath," he commented.
"Two!"
"And I know all that, Lois, okay?"
Lois nodded. Her heart jumped as their shoulders touched, and she attempted to force its furious thudding to slow.
Their faces moved closer.
Rubbing her damp hands along her jean-clad thighs, Lois made herself look upward--into Clark's intense gaze. A mixture of emotions flickered through those warm, brown eyes splattered with a hint of hazel.
She could do this. She'd get through it somehow.
"One!" A chorus of air horns and wild cheers from the surrounding spectators filled the air.
Lois shut her mind to everything else and leaned into him.
~*~*~*~*~
Now on to part 4...
The shouted 'One' reverberated in Clark's head even after its echo died away in the showroom. The quiet that followed was somewhat disconcerting after the ruckus that had preceded it. It was broken only by the sounds of giggles and lips clasping and unclasping, and muted cheers from the sidelines.
He kept his mind on those things, tuned into those sounds and the still resonating 'One,' in an effort to drown-out the hammering of Lois's heart. Its rapid-fire staccato was unnerving, to say the least. And illuminating, to say more.
She was so nervous. Almost painfully so. Not just about winning the car. Though she was a fierce competitor, so that had to factor in somewhere. But her pounding heart, and the parade of emotions that had moved over her face once they'd settled onto the car's hood, told him more than months of stilted conversations had combined.
She was not unaffected by him. She was not indifferent. Far from it.
He frowned. Now he just needed to know if that was good...or really, really bad.
"All couples now kissing!" bellowed their friend with the microphone. "First break in one hour. The judge is circling."
"Clark?" Lois's whisper was nearly inaudible, and the breath of it stole over his upper lip and onto his cheek.
"Yeah?" He tried to focus on her, but she was so close he could only see a sweep of hair, an eyebrow, and one dark, unreadable eye.
"The kissing," she said.
"Yeah?" he said again, looking into that one brown eye as if they talked from this proximity every day.
"We are...not." As he watched, the brow drew down a fraction. A dangerous fraction. He didn't need to see the full picture to know that. Her pupil was enlarging, too. And it had already been fairly wide to start with--a tell on her nerves.
"You've changed your mind?" he breathed back on her, moving his hands from the hood of the car onto her shoulders, not really to hold her there, just...well...maybe to hold her there. If she was leaving, giving up, or...running, most likely, he wanted to be clear who was abandoning the game and why, otherwise he'd never live it down.
"No." This was a hiss, and it tickled. He didn't dare smile. "We aren't...you haven't...you're still...hovering."
He removed his hands from her shoulders in a blur, feeling blindly for the hood on either side. Dear God, he was hovering?! In a room full of witnesses? With Dealin' Dan right there to announce the play by play?
'Ladies and gentleman, please direction your attention to the silver Jeep Grand Cherokee where Superman is kissing Lois Lane...''
His hands touched metal just as they should, and his own heart rate, now hammering to rival Lois's, dipped in relief. He closed his eyes. Drew in a deep, steadying breath.
"Kiss me," Lois demanded in a low, dark voice. "Kiss me now. They're coming to check."
Her eye was fixed over his shoulder and he could clearly hear footsteps headed their way.
Clark got it. Hovering. He was hovering. Nose to nose, eye to eye, scowling brow to puzzled brow. No light between them. But still... Lois was right. His lips were a hair's breath off hers. Not enough to look obvious, but certainly enough to feel obvious.
And what with it being a kissing contest in which actual kissing was required, that was a bit of an oversight. So, granted, Lois wasn't the only nervous one here. She had some company in that.
"Say it again," he said now, trying to draw that one eye back to his.
The footsteps drew nearer as did the contest judge's murmured, "Yes. Good. Fine. Keep at it" litany as he passed other couples, other vehicles.
She shifted her gaze, meeting his. "Have you changed your mind?" She brought her arms up around his neck and wiggled in closer. "You can just tell me." She tilted her head and he saw a glimpse of the other eye, a nose. And her worry.
"No." He moved his own arms around her waist, trying to make room for her, make her more comfortable against him. "Just..." He swallowed his pride, swallowed his nerves. "...we're good now? On the rules?" He didn't really know why he was hesitating or what he was after that she hadn't already given. He just wanted to know she was with him here. With him. And no one else. "Say it again, Lois."
Her gaze softened. The lips that were barely on his trembled, enough that he felt it, enough that he pulled her in another fraction.
"Kiss me." It was a whisper. A demand. A question. And an answer. All of it. And everything. Everything he had needed for a very long time.
With the judge's footsteps right there, Clark closed the distance between them--so small and so vast--and kissed her. Fully. He closed his eyes and moved his hands into her hair, feeling the warm silk of it slip through his palms. The warm softness of her lips against his. He breathed her in. Her scent. Her taste. Her absolute rightness. That hadn't changed. So many things between them had. But not this, never this...
He felt an unexpected surge of joy, of relief. They fit. After all that happened, they still fit.
The showroom, the other couples, the competition, the chatter of on-lookers...it faded in slow dissolve. Lois's heart beat in rhythm with his. He kept his ears on that, on their mingled sound, in unison for once. Their mingled touch, so easy and natural and...overdue. Long, long overdue.
Everything else, the past and the present, fell away. A heavy weight, gone.
"Might want to pace yourself, buddy." The sharp, sardonic voice of the judge spoke directly in his ear. Clark jolted, surprised to be caught off-guard. "It's a long contest. Though with a partner like that, I can see how you'd have trouble holding back." Wheezing laughter trailed away as the speaker moved on.
The damage was done, though. In his arms, Lois had gone tense, stiff. Her hands, which had been fisted in his hair, returned to his shoulders, barely skimming him now.
She was back. Back on the hood of the car. Back in the showroom. Back and fully aware of what she was doing--what they were doing.
His heart sank and he worked to suppress a groan. He had had her. Maybe for just a minute--a long, blissful one--but he'd had her. Right there with him. In perfect accord.
And if he knew Lois, getting her back to that place was going to be...tricky.
~*~*~*~*~
The top of the hour finally arrived. Lois was tempted to label it the longest hour ever, but that wasn't really fair. Or true. She'd had longer ones. The ill-fated march down the aisle, which her mother had later assured her had been more like three minutes, had certainly felt like an hour. More so.
When the bell sounded, Lois pushed back on Clark's arms, which dropped from her immediately. She turned without looking and scrambled off the hood to a chorus of indignant, 'Hey, watch it!'
"Lois." Clark had somehow beaten her to the ground and was trying to help her down--or protect the couples she was stepping on. Knowing him, it was probably both.
She ignored his outstretched hand, but did manage to look him straight in the eye. "Restroom," she said.
And she turned and bolted. It was not a run, she assured herself. She was just stretching her legs in a brisk, no-nonsense walk...as if unleashed hounds were chasing her.
She didn't look back because she knew he would be watching. Studying her retreat. Trying to gauge what it meant. She was so sick of being looked at that way. And besides, it meant nothing.
"It means nothing," she muttered aloud. "Just that I have to pee." She rounded the corner to the ladies' room and risked a glance over her shoulder. Yep. There he was. But instead of wearing a look of worry and mild bemusement--kind of his permanent face, now that she thought of it--he was smiling faintly. He raised his arm and pointed towards the snack table provided by the dealership. She nodded. He would pick something for her. She just hoped it was full of chocolate.
And possibly strychnine. That might be good.
She went straight to the taps of the nearest sink and ran the water on cold, splashing her face and the back of her neck. She stared at the water swirling down the drain and tried to stay blank. To not think. To not touch her fingers to her completely-kissed lips and remember how it had felt when Clark had...
She straightened so quickly she banged her head on the metal shelf over the basin. "Ouch!" And then because that exclamation had felt good, "Damn!"
"You ok, honey?" One half of a kissing couple she and Clark had noted earlier came out of the stall behind her. She and her partner were stationed on the grey sedan. The sedate, practical car that Clark had wanted her to choose.
The one that didn't own an airplane.
Lois nodded, biting her lower lip. She pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and scrubbed her face dry. She was definitely not freaking out and crying in the ladies' room just one hour into the Kiss Off. That was so not was she was doing.
"Boyfriend making you crazy?" This from the pregnant woman who was camped on the mini-van. She was one sink over and had made it into the restroom even faster than Lois had. "I am never going to make it. I told Nick. I said, 'You try it with an eight pound weight dancing on your bladder.' But, nooooo. Nick said we'd be fine. If I get varicose veins from this, I'll kill him. I'll drive right over him with that mini-van."
"Well, my boyfriend is making *me* crazy," volunteered Pierced Girl from the Grand Cherokee as she strolled in. She took a moment to glare at Lois before turning towards the mirror and taking out her make-up case. "Nice dismount, lady. You mowed down the whole row of us."
"What'd he do?" the sedan woman asked Pierced Girl, watching with interest as she began applying more of...whatever made her look the way she currently did.
"Brick had garlic rolls with dinner last night. At least a dozen! I'm going to need oxygen before this is over."
"Brick?" asked the mini-van mom. "That's his name?"
Pierced Girl shrugged. "It's Larry. But he likes Brick. He says it's more him."
"As in 'dumb as,'" Lois murmured in a low voice.
"What was your boyfriend's sin?" The sedan lady moved beside her. "You looked so upset when you came in here."
"Oh, well. He, uh..." Lois hedged, wondering how the truth would sound. 'He's far too good at this.' She shook her head. "He's not my boyfriend." There. That was true and safe. And said just as the other contestants joined the wait.
"He's not?" asked Pierced Girl, pausing in her attempt to ring her eyes with enough black to obscure her vision.
"He's not?" echoed one of the women in line. It was the tall blonde vying for the Mazda Miata, the two-seater convertible--though Lois didn't see how she was going to fold herself into it. There was a definite gleam of interest in her eyes. "You're with the guy on the Cherokee, right? He's single?"
More than a few heads turned her way, and Lois surrendered her place next to the sink with alacrity. Suddenly, facing Clark after...after.... Anyway, facing him didn't seem that daunting just now.
"Two minutes," came the announcement from the microphone.
"Better hurry!" Lois gestured towards the exit, cutting her way through the crowd. "Good luck everyone," she offered heartily, making her escape.
Clark was waiting a polite distance away. He smiled at her approach, holding up a bottle of water and a wrapped item. "It's a granola bar." He made it sound like an apology. "I should have thought to bring you some chocolate. This has chocolate chips, but--"
"It's ok. Thanks." She took it from him, breaking off half and practically inhaling it. She'd been too uptight for breakfast this morning. "This will be fine."
"Good."
They stood near the parked cars and Lois chewed, concentrating on that and not the horrible, weird silence between them. Or the fact that she had just told a room full of women Clark was single...
She placed her hand in the crook of his arm just...because.
Lois glanced around the room as she ate, and she spotted Jimmy along the far wall, talking and laughing with a pretty red-headed girl about his age. Lois hadn't seen her on one of the cars, so she assumed she was simply a friend of a contestant.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing that Jimmy's attention was, at least for now, elsewhere, made her feel better. The last thing she needed was a couple dozen pictures taken of them to remind her of the awkwardness she was feeling.
She turned away in time to see the pregnant lady waddle by on her way to the mini-van. Lois watched her slow gait carefully. There was no way she and her partner would last. That would be one easy couple down...
The tall woman trailed past them headed back to the Mazda Miata. She flipped her cover-girl hair over her shoulder and shot Clark a look straight from the Cat Grant school of subtlety.
Lois checked. He'd missed it entirely.
She tried not to view the woman as a threat...to anything. She and her partner, who was even taller than she was--clearly a professional basketball player or a circus freak--couldn't possibly cling to the tiny bumper of that toy car comfortably for much longer.
Again the woman looked over, and again Clark failed to notice. If Cat were here, she'd have no trouble being noticed. And she would be the one to beat. She'd probably drive away with every last car, a panting and incoherent male behind every wheel. A testosterone-fueled parade...
The grey sedan lady waved to Lois as she returned to her partner, her simple gold wedding band glinting under the lights as she did so. Lois felt a sharp, strong flash of...
Not envy, not really. She certainly wasn't the marrying kind. She had proved that as loudly and publicly as possible. But the sedan lady did seem happy. At ease.
That was what she envied. How nice it would be to be so relaxed. Comfortable. To know what...and maybe who...you wanted in life. To be happy with the grey, practical sedan.
Lois choked on the thought. Or on the granola. Probably that latter; it was pretty dry going down.
"Are you ok?" Clark offered the bottled water and a few gentle thumps on the back.
She nodded in between coughing fits, eyes tearing.
Dear God, what if she had picked wrong? What if she didn't really want the flashy, muscle-bound Grand Cherokee? What if she wanted the reliable sedan?
And now she was committed, no chance to change her mind.
She furrowed her brow and tried to remember the rules. No switching. That had definitely been in there somewhere. She couldn't switch even if she wanted to.
'Too late. Too late...'
She cleared her throat roughly, pulling herself back together. She was psyching herself out. She was here to win the Cherokee. That was it. And nothing else, nothing deeper, was going on.
"You still want to go through with this?" Clark was standing directly across from her, working to draw her attention. He held up his watch. "Almost time. Are you ready for round two?"
He was waiting for her answer, taking his cue from her. That was his way. That was what Clark did. He always wanted her to define things, to draw the lines.
She paused in her chewing, momentarily surprised by how true that was.
That was exactly what he did. What he always did. Why was that? Why did he always let her lead? Why didn't he ever just...?
She finally swallowed the lump of granola and rocked back on her heels. Scratch that. She knew why. She knew exactly why. Once he had done just that. Once he had walked across all the lines she had drawn in the sand. And she had fed him his heart. Just as Superman had done to her.
Without thinking, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him fiercely. It was quick; the warning bell sounded and she stepped away. "Round two," she said, pulling him back towards the Cherokee.
"Round two," he echoed, though he looked and sounded completely mystified. "If you say so, Lois."
"I do," she said as they reached the bumper, and once more he helped her into place, moving her over their decidedly less friendly competition. "But you get a say in the matter, too, Clark. Don't forget that."
She waited until he worked his way up beside her, until he had leaned down and apologized for their painful, hasty exit before, which had really been all hers, but he was claiming fault.
When the whistle blew, she was the one who kissed him.
~*~*~*~*~
He didn't get it. He just...didn't get it.
Lois leaned in closer, putting just the slightest more of her weight on him. He took it gladly, tasted the chocolate on her lips, and went back to contemplating his not getting it-ness.
Tense and unhappy when he'd arrived. Easily explained because he was late and she was rightly worried.
Nervous and skittish when the Kiss Off started. Again, easily explained because as much as she wanted this to be a business deal, and as much as he had assured her it was that and no more; that wasn't true. And she would know that, really. In some corner of her mind, she would have to. Too much history, too much water under the bridge for both of them for it to otherwise.
Which explained her fleeing the scene after round one. Trampling innocents in her attempt to get away.
That he got. Completely.
Clark shifted, moving back just a little and wrapping an arm around Lois's waist to give her more support. She seemed good with that. She relaxed still further, and the contrast between their first kissing session and this one was so remarkable, he went back to trying to figure it out.
The granola bar. That's where things had turned. She had been eating, scoping out the competition. He had been standing, scoping out her. And then she had been in his arms. Changed.
The bell had sounded and they'd come back to the Cherokee and she'd lunged.
Maybe it hadn't been a lunge, he corrected himself. It wasn't as if she'd pounced on him, although he wouldn't have complained. But it was definitely a...strong lean. And when their lips had met, he'd watched in wonder as the one eye he could see had drifted closed. And she had settled in, searching for, and finding, a comfortable position.
As much as he desperately wanted to, he just...didn't get it.
On the tail end of that thought, in fact--so close to it he would have sworn she'd read his mind and he had therefore jinxed them--Lois went rigid. Her fingernails curved into his shoulders and bit into his skin.
He opened his eyes and found himself staring into her wide one. "Mmpht!" she said, and while he didn't get that either, he did get the look of glee.
"Mmmn?" he said back, careful to obey the rules and keep both lips touching hers at all times.
"Mmpht mn-mph myu!" she answered emphatically, pointing over his shoulder.
He gave up on getting the actual interpretation and instead swung around, taking her with him across his lap, to see what was happening,
The mini-van had one less couple on it. The pregnant woman was quitting, her chagrined husband following her from the showroom. 'Ankles the size of balloons,' Clark heard her saying. And he felt a rush of pity for her. And even more so for her spouse, who was certainly going to hear about it. 'I told you so, Nick...'
"That's one couple down, folks," sang-out Dealin' Dan.
Lois flashed him a satisfied smile, which he felt more than saw.
"Mmnew they'd be first," she murmured, allowing enough space while still technically kissing him to make herself understood. A cool trick.
"Mph...mmmnot...not hard to guess," he teased when he got the hang of it, enjoying her laughter, so close he could taste it.
She scowled, again with the one brow and the squinted eye, and he laughed back, careful not to let their lips separate. A cool and very, very fun trick.
He still didn't get it, but he found himself less concerned by the minute. The hour passed, and only then did she climb from his lap.
~*~*~*~*~
At the second break, Lois was a bit reluctant to pull away and head for the restroom. The only problem was, this time she really needed to. The bottle of water hastily chugged before was making itself known.
"Want something else to eat?" Clark asked as he vaulted effortlessly off the hood. "I think they brought in muffins during the hour."
He had been aware enough to notice that? For her part she had been pretty oblivious to all else...although.... She rubbed at the twinge in her lower back, a nagging reminder of the car accident. She hadn't felt uncomfortable in Clark's lap, only now.
"Lois?" Clark was looking at her closely. "Are you hurting?"
"No." She shook her head. "My back is a little stiff. And a muffin sounds good. I just need to..." She pointed towards the ladies' room where the line was already out the door. She groaned. "How many stalls do the men have in theirs?"
Clark laughed. "I haven't been to check."
"Let me know when you do," she said darkly. "And it had better not be more than three or there's going to be trouble."
"Perhaps an investigation into sexual discrimination and plumbing?" His face was a study in innocence.
"Oh." She narrowed her eyes. "I get it now, Kent. You're a man, so you're in on it."
"Trust me. You don't want to know how deep this goes, Lane," he said in a hushed tone.
She turned sharply and stomped away, enjoying the sound of his soft chuckle as she did. She couldn't hide the wide smile that was growing on her own face.
This was working. It really was. She and Clark were doing this and things were going better than she could have dreamed.
She took her place in line and shot him a quick grin. Just in time to see the Miata floozy headed straight for him.
~*~*~*~*~
Clark walked over to the refreshment table, careful to keep his feet on the ground.
This was working. It really was. Lois was loosening up. Had even bantered with him on more than one occasion. It was something he had really missed. More than anything, it gave him hope for the future.
As the warm feeling grew in his heart, he repressed the urge to throw back his head and laugh for the pure joy of it. All this time, all the worry, the sleepless nights spent trying to figure things out, the careful, polite strain between them.... And all they'd really needed to do was just grab each other and--
"--pick a muffin?"
"What?" Clark started, and turned to find himself cocooned in a cloud of floral perfume. He stifled a cough. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that."
"I said, 'Did you pick a muffin?'" The perfumed woman pointed to the tray behind him. "You looked like you were having trouble deciding."
"Oh." He hoped the heat on his face wasn't as apparent as it felt. "I...no. I haven't picked yet."
"Elaine Harris," she said, offering him a well-manicured hand. "And you are...?"
"Clark Kent," he answered easily, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you. You're over on the Mazda Miata, right?"
"You noticed me," she said with a flirty smile. "How nice."
"Well..." He stopped before he admitted that it was actually her partner he'd noticed. The former center forward for the Met Net, darned good in his day. "It's a nice little car," he said instead.
"I noticed you, too," Elaine said, pulling a slip of paper from her purse. "And since the woman you're with said you're not her boyfriend, I thought..."
Clark took an involuntary step back as she brushed against his chest, tucking the paper into his shirt pocket. He felt a moment's relief it had just been the shirt pocket, because the way she was looking at him...
"My phone number. My partner is just a friend, too. So when this over, I thought maybe you and I could--"
"Think again." Lois's hard, cold voice answered for him.
"I was just picking a muffin," Clark said hurriedly. Stupidly, too. He knew that. "I mean, uh, Lois, this is Elaine. She's trying to win the--"
"I know what she's trying to win. And she's not going to." Lois moved between them, her chin up and shoulders back.
He slipped his arms around her waist, trying to make it seem like a friendly, nonchalant gesture, but he was a little worried for Elaine and her manicure.
Elaine, however, didn't have any more sense than the Porsche driver had. "You said you two weren't an item. What's the big deal?"
Clark tightened his grip a notch. Still friendly, nothing more than a casual hug...
"Just because I said he wasn't my boyfriend doesn't mean he's included in the refreshments. He isn't."
"You might want to see someone about that possessive streak," Elaine answered, strolling away. 'Call me,' she mouthed at him, making no attempt to hide it from Lois.
"Don't do anything you'll regret," Clark whispered as he felt every muscle in Lois's body go tense. "She's baiting you. She was just flirting, Lois. No big deal."
She turned in his arms, her eyes hot, searching his. When her hands came up to his chest and delved into his pocket, he didn't move. She raised a silent eyebrow as she unfolded the paper and read the digits.
"I didn't ask for that."
She blinked. Took a deep breath and released it. "I know. I know that. And really, even if you had, it's...none of my business."
He dropped his hands from her sides, aware that, just like that, the wall had risen again between them. He was not her business and not her boyfriend. Those were the things she had said all along. She had said them again today, and still she could kiss him like he was both.
He ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it, deciding. They could certainly kiss, they'd established that. But they couldn't stay forever connected at the lips. Sooner or later they were going to have to face reality.
The warning bell rang. Five short minutes and everything felt so different now. Lois grabbed a muffin and offered him one. He put it back, no intention of eating. "Why were you jealous?" he asked, timing it so she had just taken a large bite.
Her eyes bulged and she chewed frantically. He pressed his advantage. "Am I wrong? You were a little...territorial."
She grimaced, a blush stealing over her cheeks.
Good.
"I didn't approach her, you know." He held her captive in his gaze, not looking away. Not letting her, either.
She nodded vigorously.
"And I don't want this." He crumpled the paper in his fist, shooting it into the waste basket. "I'm here with you, Lois, whatever that means. And maybe we're going to have to decide, because I don't consider myself available. Not while you and I are together."
She swallowed. "Oh, Clark, I--"
The final horn sounded, breaking the spell. He grabbed her hand and they sprinted for the Cherokee. With only a few seconds to spare, he lifted her onto the hood and followed, not even pausing to sit down before he brought his lips to hers again.
~*~*~*~*~
Clark hadn't been wrong. She *had* been territorial. Unthinking, unwisely, she had charged over and placed herself between that woman and Clark, as if her partner was the gazelle and Elaine, the lion.
Lois sighed.
Clark's eye came open and regarded her. She shut hers quickly, too embarrassed to be caught looking.
His hands, which had been resting on her back, moved slowly, lightly rubbing up and down. Comforting, rather than romantic.
She was surprised at the unexpected rush of tears.
'Why were you jealous?' he'd asked. Why, indeed? Why be jealous when another woman had the good sense to show some interest in the world's kindest, most considerate man? The one she, Lois, didn't feel "that way" about? Why on earth would she be jealous?
She brought her arms up, winding them around his neck, holding on. Just in case Elaine was thinking of forsaking the Mazda Miata and her skyscraper of a partner and coming over and sweeping Clark off the Cherokee's hood...and into her blond, gorgeous clutches.
Clark's hands left her back and moved to cup her face, his thumbs wiping at the moisture accumulating in the corners of her eyes.
"You okay?" he murmured against her lips.
She looked at him then. And she let herself see him. See everything she had been afraid to see. Everything she had never allowed herself to see...for so many reasons. He was here with her, unavailable to anyone else. He'd told her so. And once more he had put himself on the line for her. The very least she could do was...open her eyes. And stop lying. To herself. To him. To the entire world.
"I picked wrong," she said slowly, carefully, not letting their mouths separate, but trying to speak clearly. "I want the grey sedan."
His lips grew still and his hands froze in their ministrations. "Huh?" Then he moaned, letting out a rush of air. "For crying out loud, Loisss!"
He'd said it with enough volume that the judge started towards them. She pressed herself more firmly against Clark, watching his approach in her peripheral vision.
Clark kissed her in a convincing show of renewed energy, but his one eye was glaring at her.
When the judge had cleared them, moving away with a warning to be careful, Clark spoke once more, the words rumbling up from deep within his chest. "Isn't there a rule against switching?"
She nodded slightly, eyes dancing. "We're going to have to break it."
~*~*~*~*~
to be continued in part 5...
