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Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Where we left Lois and Clark in Part 204…

Lois slapped his hand away. “No touching the merchan…” She hesitated. “— dise… no.” She appeared to be contemplating something, before saying adamantly, “No.”

“No?” Clark’s fingers continued to trace the edge of her topmost button. “I’d hate to be knocked out of character by seeing your outfit at the club.” He slipped the button through its hole.

“Fine,” Lois growled, taking two steps back from him and extending her arms. “Scan me, but be quick about it. No touching.”

Clark pouted. Where was the fun in that? He hated that he wanted to defy her rules, now that there were rules. Him, the ultimate rule follower, too. The one person on this world who had to follow the rules, especially his own guidelines, or someone could get hurt. He reached out a hand towards her but she took another step back.

“If you don’t want to look, we really need to get down to the club…”

“Fine.”

She was right, of course. Looking without touching would be better for both of them. With a determined nod, he jerked his glasses down for a split second. That was long enough to make his leather pants uncomfortable. He shifted his position and adjusted his pants, trying to make them more bearable. They really didn’t give as much as his uniform. He wanted to tell her how much he liked the peek-a-boo red bra, her leather shorty-shorts, and the temporary rose tattoo on her breast, partially hidden by her leather vest, but the words wouldn’t form on his lips. “I’ll go get those sunglasses,” he said briskly instead.

Lois’s smile told Clark that he had lost. “You do that.”

Drat, Clark scowled as he zipped out her window and returned five seconds later with the sunglasses. Couldn’t she let me win every once in a while?

“I really hate this idea,” he grumbled as the image of what Lois was wearing under her coat flashed across the forefront of his mind again.

“Buck up, Chuck. It’s only make believe,” she said, striding out into the hall.

***

Part 205

“We should go away this weekend,” Lois said, several nights later as she and Clark walked hand-in-hand towards her apartment after filing their latest story.

“I’m on call this weekend,” Clark replied with a frown. “But I’m taking you out Monday night. Wear something warm…” He leaned close and murmured in her ear. “— because we’ll be flying.”

“Oh? Any special reason?” she asked.

“Do you really hate your birthday that much that you block it out every year?”

Lois looked away so he wouldn’t see her grimace. “Let’s just say Lenny Stoke distracted me this week,” she replied, not wanting to focus on her mistake from last year when she hadn’t realized that the reason Clark had asked her out was for her birthday.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” Clark admonished. “He could have killed you.”

“For the hundredth time, Superman was standing less than twenty feet away. Are you saying that he can fly around the world in seconds flat, but he couldn’t break the sound barrier across a room if I was in danger?” she scoffed. “I was perfectly safe.”

Clark pressed his lips together in disapproval nonetheless. “That’s beside the point.” He played with his tie and cleared his throat, before lowering his voice. “My heart almost exploded in panic when you knocked the gun from Stoke’s hand after karate chopping him in the crotch.”

Lois shrugged.

“Please don’t gamble with your life again, minha, or better yet on Superman saving it,” he said, stopping on the sidewalk and taking both her hands in his. “Because if I were to ever fail…”

“You won’t…”

“Lois, you told me yourself. Superman can’t save everyone. Please, don’t ever make yourself one of my failures; it’s bad enough when a stranger dies on my watch, but if you were to…” He closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath. “I want to have a long life. Many more days like today, and I’ll have a heart attack before too long.”

“Your invulnerability will…”

“Lois, we don’t know what my heart is capable of doing under intense Mad Dog scare tactics,” he whispered. “I’ve lost you once. Please, don’t make me live through that a second time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’ll stop taunting super villains with guns.” Regular idiots with guns, on the other hand…

“That’s all I ask,” he said, tucking her hand around his elbow and continuing down the street.

“Soooooo,” Lois said, deciding to change the topic before Clark realized her promise came with a disclaimer. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home. Why? Are you hungry again?” he replied. “We just ate Mexican.” He glanced at his watch. “Did you want to catch a late movie?”

“On my birthday,” she clarified.

He grinned.

“I don’t like surprises,” Lois reminded him.

“There’s this terrific Italian restaurant…”

Her heartbeat doubled. “Italian?” She licked her lips in anticipation. She remembered distinctly their passionate pasta night from the previous summer. Was he hinting at a re-enactment, a full one with a different ending? “Oh?”

“Well, Italian, yes. Italy, no. It’s in Little Italy, actually. I thought in honor of my Italian heritage,” he said with a wink.

“I can’t believe I told you about that.” Lois covered her face with her hand.

“I can’t believe the back story you came up with for me. I’m impressed with your jumps of logic. The possibly illegitimate cousin to Jonathan Kent, raised in Italy, witnessed a hit by the Italian mafia as a boy, and somehow snuck over to America to find my father’s ancestors and hide out under an assumed name,” he said with a chuckle. “You do realize that would make me around Jonathan’s age, don’t you?”

“Not if his uncle hadn’t actually died in the war,” Lois retorted. “Or his son fathered a son.”

He smiled at her as if he had won.

Jerk.

“It’s your fault, you know. If you had been honest with me from the first…” she started.

“You’d be proud owner of a Pulitzer Prize and Earth would be without a resident superhero,” he replied.

“We’d still have Batman,” Lois said haughtily, but even she couldn’t say that with a straight face.

“He’s done a lot to clean up Gotham City,” Clark countered in earnest.

Of course, Clark would take his side, Lois thought with a slight shake of her head. She was about to rebut his theory that a Batman lurking in the shadows could hold a candle to her sunshine loving Superman, when Clark continued… well, kind of.

“I wish…”

That was it. His voice drifted off and he said no more.

“What?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” he said, pulling her close enough to kiss her hair. “I hope it doesn’t rain on Monday.”

“No. It’s something. What do you wish?” she probed.

“So many things,” he murmured to try to distract her.

“Me, too. Like you keeping your word about hiding things from me,” she retorted.

“It really doesn’t matter,” he groaned.

“Wanna bet?”

Clark sighed. “It was a wish about my life before I came here, before I met you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here now with you and that’s a thousand times better than it was before, even if that wish could’ve been granted.”

“A thousand?” she asked skeptically.

“Okay. Fine. A million. Satisfied?”

“And I thought you were exaggerating before,” Lois murmured to herself. Although, when she was with Clark there wasn’t any mumbling to herself anymore. Even, at times, when they weren’t together.

“Huh?” he said, turning to look at her.

“Oh, come on, Clark. You heard that,” she retorted.

“Um… actually, not. LNN was announcing the score. Kansas State against Michigan. Sorry.” A boyish half-smile came to his face. “Kansas State beat Michigan by two.”

Lois leaned against him, allowing him to slip his arm around her shoulders. Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about every word she muttered as she had with Luthor, after all. Being with Clark wasn’t like losing her privacy, but like letting someone in. “Chuck, sometimes, you can be so male.”

His brow furrowed. “Only sometimes?”

“Trust me, it’s a compliment.”

He looked doubtful. “No offense, minha, but I’ve been burned by women who’ve asked me to trust them before.”

Lois smiled coyly. “I’m not women, Clark; I’m me and you can trust me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If you were always male, then you’d act more like the other schmucks I’ve dated and you don’t want to be like that,” she explained. “Those irrational beings are only interested in cars, sports, money, and sex, and not in that order.”

“Did you just insult all men?” he asked.

“But you only act like a guy occasionally,” Lois went on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “The rest of the time you’re tolerable, hence it’s a compliment.”

He raised a brow. “You need to look up the definition when we get to your apartment. It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

“I was being nice,” she argued.

“You stuck a knife in my masculinity,” he refuted.

“Chuck, your masculinity isn’t up for debate,” she said, and lowered her voice. “Besides, that knife would end up bent out of shape if I tried. No one is more male than you.”

Clark grinned. “Now, that’s a compliment.”

Lois gave her head a slight shake. For being the Man of Steel, he sure was a big ol’ marshmallow. “You’re good at fishing, aren’t you?”

“I love to fish. Would you like me to take you sometime? Ooooh! We could go camping. You and me, away from the city in the great outdoors, roughing it…”

Lois halted in the middle of the sidewalk and held up her hand. “Hold it, right there. I make one semi-sports metaphor and you’re suddenly turning me into a pioneer woman. Could you be more male?”

Clark leered towards her and bounced his eyebrows suggestively. “As a matter of fact, Ms. Lane, I can be.”

Suddenly, the cool autumn night heated up considerably and Lois needed to loosen her scarf. Clark might be a marshmallow, she thought, but he’s toasty hot and ready to be dipped in chocolate until he was begging for s’more. Her eyes widened and she had to look away from him so he couldn’t guess her thoughts. “Okay,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack. “Only if we have s’mores.”

“Huh?”

“Okay to camping, but we’re eating s’mores.”

He hooked his hand around her elbow and continued down the street. “I don’t really care for them,” he said softly, killing her newest fantasy involving chocolate and marshmallow.

“Well, you can’t camp without roasting something on a stick,” she retorted. “Girl Scout rule.” Okay, that might have been stretching the truth a tad bit.

“Campfire?” Clark repeated. “Roasting hot dogs?” His whole body stiffened.

Now, what?

“You know, it’s a bit late in the year for camping,” he said after clearing his throat.

Had he caught onto her fantasy metaphor at last? Lois hugged his arm. “I’m betting you could keep us warm.”

“Oh, look. Your building. Do you need me to walk you up?” he asked, his voice increasing speed with each word. He pointed over his shoulder. “I need to…”

“I’ll be fine.”

He kissed her cheek and she watched him disappear into the dusk. Roasting hot dogs, huh?

That Clark Kent sure was an odd duck. Sexy as all get out, but still an odd duck.

As Lois unlocked the door to her building, she recalled that Clark had told her once that he had witnessed his adoptive folks dying in fire, a sweet smelling fire. It was why he couldn’t eat sweets for the longest time, because it reminded him of that. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the glass.

How could she have been so stupid?

Here she thought she had made Clark uncomfortable because he had guessed the direction of her passionate thoughts, when the logical conclusion was probably the complete opposite. Their conversation hadn’t turned him on, but off.

With a long sigh, Lois drew a thick black line through her mental fantasy list, crossing out eating s’mores with Clark, and another one through roasting marshmallows. The smell would hit too close to home.

She opened her door and entered her building. It was a shame. She was starting to look forward to sharing an air mattress with him in a very plush and fully stocked RV.

***

Clark spun out of his uniform and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before sitting down on his bed. Just as quickly, he stood up and moved into his living room.

He sat down on his sofa and exhaled. That dip into the icy waters near Antarctica had cooled his ardor a bit. He dropped his head into his hands.

Why did Lois have to bring up roasting hotdogs over a campfire?

The combination of thinking about his first time with Rachel and what making love to Lois would be like… He swallowed.

“I have to tell her the truth,” he said aloud to himself, rubbing his hand down his face.

He didn’t know why he was losing his self-control around Lois lately. It was as if his heart and body were battling his brain for power. Somehow knowing that the curse was temporary, that Herb was searching for a cure and could arrive at any moment, made it all the more difficult not to think about a curse-free future with Lois.

“You can’t. She will die,” he reminded himself.

Clark tried to remind himself of that nightmare he had a while back. He and Lois were making love in the stairwell, only to be interrupted by Luthor, who shot Lois. The bullet shattered her Kryptonite watch, knocking Clark powerless and leaving Lois to bleed to death.

Instead, his rebellious mind wandered into a more dangerous and pleasurable arena.

They were sitting by a campfire, and Lois wore a dress that buttoned down her front. She set down her bottle of beer and kissed him.

“Lois,” he murmured, trying to warn her. Warn her again, actually, because in this fantasy he had already warned her once.

However, being Lois Lane, she didn’t heed the danger. She kissed down his neck as her fingers unbuttoned his flannel shirt. Then she proceeded to kiss down his chest as she had when she was drunk on pheromones. He recalled her touch as if it had just happened and exhaled a trembling breath.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, running her fingers over the naked skin of his arms as her lips continued to explore the nape of his neck.

“Lois, no,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

“I can,” she murmured, lifting her skirt to scoot onto his lap. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she brought his hands to the top button of her dress.

When his hands froze, his brain winning for the moment, Lois lay his palms against her chest and ran them down to her stomach and then back up again, causing a jolt of electricity to sizzle into his brain and short circuit it. His hands started to undo her buttons. Slowly, surely, with no hesitation, but also with no rush. He wanted to savor every moment, every new section of skin, every new glimpse of her undergarments. He paused at the first flash of her red bra.

Somewhere in the back of his head, his brain tried to tell him that Lois wouldn’t wear the lipstick red bra she had worn for her undercover operation against Stoke with this simple brown and white polka-dotted dress. She should be wearing a demure white bra with lace edges with a front-opening clasp, but as his hands slipped under the imaginary fabric of the imaginary dress on the imaginary image of his real life girlfriend that voice was silenced.

Lois’s arms wrapped around his neck and she crushed a fiery kiss to his lips. The warmth of her soft skin pressed against his bare chest surprised him. The heat of the fire combined with his normal raised body temperature made him expect that she might feel cool to the touch. He should have known better, even the silk of her bra was warm. His fingers glided along the fabric, brushing across the semi-transparent lace to the clasp nestled in front. He shivered, but not from the cool evening air.

The phone rang, causing Clark to draw in a quick breath as his eyes popped open, returning him to his empty apartment.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured, crossing the room to pick up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Clark!” Lois’s voice sounded shocked. “You’re there.”

“Uh… yeah. I live here,” he replied. He took a couple of calming breaths trying to slow his racing heart.

“But I thought… you…”

“Oh. I just got in. I was about to take a shower,” he said. Not exactly the truth, but now that he said the words, it sounded like a good idea. Anything to wash these thoughts from his mind.

“I didn’t mean to…” She seemed rattled.

“Lois? What is it?” Clark asked.

“Well, I wanted to… uh… tell you that we don’t need to… uh… go camping,” she whispered. “If you don’t want.”

“Huh?” Hadn’t it been his idea? “Well, okay, Lois. If that’s how you feel.” He scratched his head in confusion. Hadn’t she asked him about liking to fish? “I wasn’t thinking we’d go anytime soon.”

“Okay. Fine. I’m sorry,” she snapped. “All right?”

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

“For… um… talking about the campfire… and marshmallows… and hotdogs,” Lois said. She actually sounded contrite.

“Why? I’m the one who doesn’t like marshmallows, Lois. If you want to roast marshmallows should we ever go camping, that’s entirely up to you. I’m just not going to eat them.”

“This isn’t about marshmallows, Clark!”

“O-kay?” He shook his head. “Then what is it about?”

Lois didn’t answer right away. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“You didn’t upset me, Lois.”

“You flew off so quickly,” she said.

“Oh.” He blushed, glancing down at his socks. “I had to… um… well… uh… go. I wasn’t upset.” Not with Lois, at least.

“But you seemed anxious when I mentioned roasting hotdogs…” she started.

He covered his face with his hand. “Lois, I wasn’t upset.” Hot, bothered, turned on, perhaps, but not upset.

“You weren’t?”

“No.”

“Then why did you fly off?”

“I didn’t…” He had thought he had given a good enough excuse. So much for his subtle exit. He was going to have to be honest with her. “Lois, I’m fine. I know I shouldn’t have run off on you tonight, and I’m sorry.”

“No, Clark, I’m sorry. I could see that our talk of hotdogs and campfires and roasting marshmallows really bothered you, and I couldn’t help myself from rambling on.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop himself from groaning. He didn’t want to tell Lois about Rachel. “Lois. Minha, please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“And that’s why I’m sorry, Clark. Here, I’ve gone and brought it up again. Please forgive me.”

Clark rested his head against the wall. “There’s nothing to forgive. Please, believe me.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “So, it really was an emergency?”

From a certain point of view.

“I just needed some time alone,” he admitted.

She didn’t say anything in response, and he realized that she must have taken his words in the wrong way.

“Lois, I love you. You mean the world to me,” he went on, breaking the silence. “I need you to understand, though, that there are some things in my life, from my past, that I don’t want to get into detail about with you. Just as there are things from your past I don’t want to know in detail.”

“What kinds of things?” she asked.

Of course she had. He had just dangled a bit of chocolate-flavored intrigue in front of her.

“Private things.”

“What sort of private things?” she retorted with a tinge of Mad Dog to her voice.

“Personal, private things,” he clarified.

“What kind of personal, private things have you been keeping from me, Clark?”

He groaned. Why had he answered his phone? His fantasy had been so nice, too. “Do you really want me to spell it out for you?”

“Please do, because we clearly aren’t communicating here,” she said sharply.

“Lois, I’m really not in the mood to talk to you about the first time I had sex,” he hollered.

It started off as a giggle, but ten seconds later she was roaring with laughter.

He covered his face with his hand, humiliated.

“Is that what we’re discussing?” she asked, her words still sprinkled with laughter.

“No!”

“We’re not?” She didn’t sound convinced.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to talk about it,” he responded.

She paused before saying softly, “Was it that bad?”

“No, Lois. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was very, very not bad,” Clark said. He knew those were just the type of details she didn’t want to hear, but her goading him into the subject had annoyed him. “I just don’t want to talk about it because it is personal and private.”

He heard her draw in a breath and slowly exhale it. “Even from me?”

“Yes!”

“Oh,” she whispered.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Not forever, minha. Just not tonight. Not like this.”

“I understand,” she replied.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, and I rescind my apology.”

“You didn’t need to apologize in the first place,” he said. Although, he wouldn’t turn it down if she offered one now for pressuring him to tell her what he clearly didn’t want to talk about.

“Don’t you want to know why I’m rescinding my apology?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted.

He heard her smack her lips derisively. “Have a nice shower,” she called. “Think of me.”

“I was planning on it,” he retorted, wincing when he realized that he said those words aloud.

“Oh, really?” she teased. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

He chuckled. “Me, too.”

“Are you going to dream about me tonight?” she asked.

“Always.”

“Good dreams?”

“When I’m lucky,” he replied.

“Are you going to be lucky tonight?” she asked.

“I surely hope so.”

Lois laughed. “Clark?”

“Yes, minha.”

“I love you, too.”

Clark smiled. He never grew tired of hearing that. “Even though I keep personal, private things from you?”

“You’re getting better,” she replied, and he could just picture her shrugging. “Aren’t you going to wish me ‘happy dreams’ too?”

“I hope you’re lucky in your dreams tonight too, Lois,” he said.

“Come and visit me, and I just might be,” she cooed.

Clark tugged at the collar of his t-shirt as the room seemed to heat up with her words. That shower was sounding better by the minute. “It’s a date,” he replied, his voice rough. “Goodnight, Lois.”

“Goodnight, Clark. Pleasant dreams.”

“You, too,” he said, and hung up the phone.

Clark smiled, looking forward to his dreams for the first time in months. He pulled off his t-shirt and headed for the shower.

*************
One More Talk
*************

Clark led Lois over to a bench in Metropolis Park and they both sat down. They didn’t take walks in Centennial Park much anymore. Between the time when Superman had broken up with her and Clark’s proposal, they had lost interest in visiting that park.

It was time. Clark needed Lois to answer the question that had been burning in his mind ever since he learned the truth about what had happened on that horrible April day all those months ago.

“Lois, if Luthor hadn’t just proposed and you weren’t working undercover… if it had been just an ordinary day…”

Lois looked over at him with skepticism. “We have ordinary days?”

“Well, ordinary for us.”

“So, only the threat of abduction or death, and only two conversations interrupted by Superman rescues?” Lois guessed.

He smiled at her joke. “And a third by Jimmy or Perry,” he corrected.

“Ah, Jimmy,” Lois sighed. “I miss him.”

Clark nodded with agreement.

“And I only dangled over the jaws of death twice?” she asked with a wink.

“On an ordinary day, it’s only once,” he replied.

She leaned back in contemplation. “Oh, one of those ordinary days.”

“Would you have said ‘yes’?” Clark asked.

***End of Part 205***

Part 206

Is Clark a glutton for punishment or what? Comments