This detour has nothing to do with the plot. It has nothing to do with Lois or Clark and only involves my secondary characters. If you skip it entirely, it won't affect your understanding of the rest of this story going forward. But it is Ann's birthday and she asked so nicely, so here it is. Also, my wonderful Beta readers had nothing to do with this, so don't blame them. I've stayed well on the PG side of the NFic line, but this is still pretty much just mushy stuff. Happy Birthday, Ann.
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"It's late," he whispered as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, pulling her just a little closer to him.
"Are you going to bed?" she asked as she turned to look up at him. Lok Sim nodded and stood up from the couch.
"Are you going to join me?" His question was so innocuous, and she knew that if she said yes and promptly fell asleep as soon as she was in bed, he wouldn't have minded. But they both knew he wasn't asking her if she was tired and wanted to go to sleep.
Enza looked up at him and nodded. Placing both hands on the edge of the couch, she put her weight on her left leg and stood up. Even a few months after being fitted for the prosthetic, her balance and gait were still a bit uneven. The heroic efforts of her surgeons had saved her knee, which meant that eventually, she'd be able to do most everything normally. For now, she didn’t walk the way she used to and was constantly thinking about how to compensate, how to shift her weight and move steadily. But she had to get used to a new way of doing things. She could lead a perfectly normal life, she'd heard over and over again, it would just be a little different from the way it was before.
He took her hand in his, knotting their fingers together. Enza looked up at him and he lowered his head to kiss her. With his free hand, he caressed her cheek as she wrapped her arm around him. She moaned into his mouth and he dropped her hand to frame her face. Lok Sim threaded his fingers through her hair and she shivered. He broke off the kiss and pressed his lips against her forehead as he enfolded her in his embrace. She felt so safe in his arms. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you," she replied as she trailed her hands slowly up and down his sides. It had been so long since they'd made love and all she could think about was being with him. Except the tiniest voice in her head kept asking her if he was as eager. It kept reminding her that she wasn't whole anymore. She was twisted and broken, deformed by war. He still loved her, she knew that, but was he still attracted to her? Did he want to be with her?
"Are you all right?" he asked, placing his hand on her recently healed arm. The brace had been removed only a few days before. "Is it too soon?"
"I'm fine," she assured him. "And unless you don't want to…" Enza could hear the uncertainty, the fragility in her voice.
"This isn't about want," he began, his voice soft and low. She closed her eyes, feeling a sudden emptiness in her chest. She braced herself, knowing that he would say something sensitive and thoughtful about how this was difficult for both of them, but they'd find a way to get past it together and in time, get used to her injuries. Desire wasn't important anyway, she told herself. The deep and solid foundation of their relationship comprised far more crucial things.
"Enza, I need you," he said breathlessly. "I need to be with you, to lose myself in you, to forget where I end and you begin. But I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you. I will wait as long as you need me to, but please don't ever doubt how much I love you and need you, and how badly I want you."
His words threw her off balance. "I need you," she whispered. "So much."
Gently, he caressed her cheek. "I want to make love with you," he said.
She looked up at him and nodded wordlessly. He lifted her into his arms, cradling her securely against his chest. Her husband carried her into their bedroom and tenderly laid her on the bed. Lok Sim lay down beside her, looking deeply into her eyes. He smiled as he caressed her cheek.
"I love you," she whispered as she leaned toward him and kissed him softly. His lips parted underneath hers as he deepened the kiss. He pulled her into his arms, his hands trailing down to her waist and under the hem of her shirt. His fingers stroked the skin of her stomach, his touch felt so warm.
"I love you," he answered as he broke off the kiss. He slipped her shirt upward and she lifted her arms over her head to allow him to remove it. She helped him discard his own shirt and fell back into his embrace, reveling the feeling of his skin against hers. For a long moment, he simply held her close. He kissed her temple and captured the soft lobe of her ear between his lips and sucked gently. She drew a sharp, inward breath. Her arms tightened around him, feeling like no matter how close he was, it wasn't close enough.
He slid down to the end of the bed and continued to slowly undress her. With gentle hands, he removed the prosthetic as though it wasn't something ugly and unnatural, like it was just another piece of clothing, a simple, superficial barrier between them to be casually set aside. She watched him silently as he placed his hand on her leg. He lowered his head and kissed the inside of her thigh, just above her knee, above the scar tissue and grafted skin.
Her husband looked up at her, desire etched in his expression, but there was so much tenderness in his eyes. "You are so perfect, so beautiful," he whispered. The words brought stinging tears to her eyes. His fingers moved ever so softly over her skin. "The scars don't change that, they prove it. You saved Thia. You saved all of those children. What you endured was horrible and if I could have gone through it instead, I would have. But what you did was remarkable and I love you even more for it."
She reached her hands out to him and drew him up toward her. "My love," she whispered. Despite everything that had happened to her, she knew just how fortunate she was. Her husband had saved her life and he'd held her hand through all of the painful therapy, the slow, agonizing recoveries from surgery, and the frustration of having to relearn how to do so many simple, everyday things. And he loved her so purely and so perfectly that he made her forget why she should be nervous and self conscious. He made her feel like she wasn't broken and damaged. Because to him, she wasn’t.
He rolled onto his back, holding her close to his chest. Now, more than ever, he took such remarkable care when he held her in his arms. He left a trail of light, whisper soft kisses on the long line of a scar on her upper arm. "I love you," he murmured. It didn't matter how many times he said it, or that she already knew it to be true, every single time he told her that he loved her, he said it so earnestly, as though telling her that was the most important thing he would ever do.
"I love you," she whispered in response, kissing first his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth before capturing his lips. She sat upright, astride his lap, the movement reawakening the tightness and ghostly echoes of discomfort in the muscles of her leg. His hands settled at her hips. She closed her eyes.
"Are you all right?" her husband asked.
Enza smiled at him as the pain subsided. "Wonderful," she murmured. She leaned down to press her lips against the hollow at the base of his neck, allowing her lips and the tips of her fingers to slowly reacquaint themselves with the hard curves and muscled planes of his body.
Lok Sim groaned, the deep, low sound rumbling in his chest. He looped his strong arms around her as he sat up. Pulling her close, he kissed her hungrily. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, beating out a furious rhythm. Holding his face between her hands, she slowly withdrew from the kiss. He opened his warm, green eyes to look at her. Even in the darkness, she could see so much love reflected there. The slight, almost dreamy smile on his face softened his features. Gazing at her husband, she realized that no matter what had happened, no matter what she'd lost or how imperfect she was, she could do one thing perfectly. She could love him.
Closing the distance between them, she kissed him again. The feel of his skin against hers, the taste of his lips, the harsh sound of his breathing, they all invaded her senses, threatening to drown her in the sweetest oblivion. The remainder of his clothing quickly joined hers somewhere on their bedroom floor.
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Lok Sim fell back against the pillows, Enza still in his arms. He closed his eyes and smiled as he kissed the crown of her hair. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you," she murmured drowsily. He could feel the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile against his skin. Her small hand stroked his chest, her fingers moving in distracting circles. He hugged her just a little more tightly. Physically, he was tall and strong and imposing. He was respected, too, now one of General Commander Talan's most trusted officers. But power had never meant a thing to him. He'd never sought it out, never wanted it. He had no interest in it. Yet knowing that he could make Enza happy, that he could make her whisper his name his name so breathlessly, was about the greatest source of satisfaction he could imagine. The only power that mattered to him was the power to please her. He smiled to himself, wondering what Enza would think if she knew about the self-satisfied feeling that settled over him as he held her. He looked down at where her head lay against his chest, her eyes closed and her expression peaceful. He drank in the sight of her and listened to her breathe, the soft sound soothing him to sleep.
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