Title: Geographic Distance
Author: Susan Young <groobie@verizon.net>
Submitted: December 2018
Rated: PG
Summary: Clark’s kiss during “Man of Steel Bars” prompts a reflective Lois to take action.
Author’s Note: I don’t even want to admit how long the first section of this story has been sitting on my hard drive. Thanks, Sue, for inspiring me to finish it, and for your valuable beta advice.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lois stared at the map of the United States that she had pulled up on her computer. Kansas. He was moving back to Kansas.
The shape was unremarkable, like so many other states carved out of the Louisiana Purchase and the Mexican Cession. Rectangles and squares easily interchangeable – who could possibly tell the difference between Colorado and Wyoming? North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas…a vertical line of rectangles taking up space in the center of the country. Flyover country. Unimportant to a city girl from Metropolis.
South Dakota had Mount Rushmore, she knew that much. North Dakota had…frigid temperatures? Nebraska had corn. And Kansas had Clark Kent.
She shouldn’t care – she didn’t care, not really. She barely knew the man. They had only been partners for a few months; her relationship with her hair stylist had lasted longer than that. It wasn’t a deeper relationship, but it was certainly a longer one.
True, she had gotten to know Clark better on their recent trip to Smallville. He had seemed so relaxed there, and was friends with everyone in the town. And his parents were so solidly supportive, salt of the earth, such a refreshing change from her own. It was abundantly clear where Clark came from, why he was so guileless and grounded. Why Smallville was everything Metropolis was not. She didn’t necessarily mean that in a bad way.
Lois typed the town’s name into the map’s search engine, and the map zoomed in to center on Clark’s hometown. Smallville was a charming little dot in the middle of nowhere: everything one would expect it to be, and everything that a city girl like her should loathe. It had a diner owned by a woman dripping with a country accent, and a homespun sheriff straight out of a sitcom, and hundreds of people willing to dedicate an entire weekend to ritual crop worship. And it had Clark Kent.
Clark, who was so at home in that environment, who belonged in that town and with those people. But he also belonged in Metropolis; he could adapt and flow with the pace of the city as if he had been born here. Lois was the inflexible one, the one who was recognizably out of place in the slower, quieter pace of his small town. She lacked his skill at shifting gears.
Lois hesitated for a moment, then clicked on a link to open the map’s driving directions. She entered the address of Clark’s apartment, and then scanned the text to find the estimated driving time. It would take a non-stop day of driving to reach Smallville, assuming Clark didn’t choose to fly to Wichita instead, as they had done together so recently. If Clark was moving, though, he’d surely have to rent a van, and it would take him some time to pack all of his belongings. Clark was probably still in Metropolis, in his apartment, where he belonged.
Not that she cared. She didn’t have time to care; she had to focus what little time and energy she had left to clearing Superman’s name, to proving that he wasn’t responsible for the city’s heat wave. Superman needed her, in at least that limited way, and if that was the only way she could demonstrate her devotion, she’d take it. The entire city could turn on him, recklessly accuse and blame him, but he’d always know that he had at least one true friend.
Clark should have had more faith. He should have remained true to his steadfast Smallville values and worked beside her to clear Superman’s name. Clark was, by all accounts, a closer friend to Superman than anyone, and his level of loyalty should have reflected that. A job opportunity at the Smallville Gazette shouldn’t be worth more than the pain of walking away from a best friend.
Lois sighed deeply as she decreased the map’s magnification with a succession of steady clicks. Smallville became smaller, disappearing into the map until it was gone, subsumed into the general outline of the state of Kansas. Metropolis blinked out of existence as the map took a longer view back at North America. A few more clicks, and the map displayed the seven continents, the limitless possibilities where Superman might go, now that his ties to her hometown had been severed.
She had last seen him at the courthouse, where she had pleaded with him not to leave, promised him that she’d find the actual source of the unseasonable heat. But he was resigned to his fate, giving her a look of longing and a slide of his hand across her cheek before he departed for good.
She hadn’t cried; she had been too angry to cry. Too frustrated by Superman’s impossible situation, too motivated to do right by him. Action was far more productive than tears anyway, and there were specific things she could do to stave off a sense of hopelessness: maps to compile, scientists to interview, leads to follow. Superman’s decision to leave only firmed her resolve.
But Clark…
Lois exited the website and squeezed her eyes shut, willfully containing the unwanted and unfamiliar emotion that welled inside her. The same emotion that had brought tears to her eyes when he kissed her goodbye and walked out the door.
She didn’t care, Lois reassured herself. She was just tired and emotionally drained and suffering from a mild case of heat exhaustion. Her defenses were low; her guard was down, so she could attribute the unsteady feeling in her heart to a host of things other than soulful brown eyes and tanned skin that reminded her of clichéd amber waves of grain.
She should go home. Sleeping at her desk wouldn’t solve any problems. It wouldn’t bring Superman back. It wouldn’t bring Clark back, either.
Lois looked over at her former partner’s empty desk. She didn’t need a partner; even Clark had acknowledged that. She had never had one before: those who had tried inevitably failed the challenge. But, as she had admitted to him, she had gotten used to having Clark around. He couldn’t possibly know how rare that honest admission was.
Or maybe he understood what she herself didn’t know how to express. The look on his face as he whispered his goodbye spoke volumes. She could only passively watch as Clark reached out his hand to touch her, and then bent down to kiss her.
Lois closed her eyes to help picture the moment in her mind. The kiss was a perfect balance of hard and soft, pressure that demanded nothing. It wasn’t passionate or steamy, but it wasn’t continental or familial either. It was friendly, yes, but more than that – she was sure that it said and meant more than that. The kiss was an impression, an emotion, a word that hovered in the air between them as he slowly pulled away.
She hadn’t responded. She hadn’t kissed him back, nor had she objected to the sudden move that somehow seemed more inevitable than surprising. She had accepted the kiss like a gift, appreciated it for what it was, but hadn’t reciprocated.
Why hadn’t she kissed him back? Why hadn’t she been able to express her thoughts and feelings in that breathless moment? Why had she let him walk out the door without formally saying goodbye? Why did she feel the need to withhold that goodbye, as if refusing to acknowledge it could alter reality?
Lois swallowed hard, choking down her unwanted feelings. She shouldn’t care – she didn’t care, not really. She cared about Superman. Superman, she assured herself. Superman, who was noble and good, kind to everyone, honorable and brave and caring, easy on the eyes, with a moral center that could have come from the heartland of America. Superman, who shared so many of his best qualities with Clark Kent.
Clark Kent, who was out the door and out of her life. Clark Kent, who had gone from meaning nothing to everything in the space of a few short months. Clark Kent, who was moving back to Kansas, which was nowhere near Metropolis.
Lois let her head fall onto her desk and felt a fat tear fall from her eye and pool onto the wood surface. She did care, she finally admitted to herself.
Damn it, she cared.
* * * * * * * * * *
Clark stood among the partially packed boxes in his apartment and stared at the object in his hand. When it was on his shelf, the globe seemed unremarkable, a sphere of glass colored by undefined shapes. But in his hand, it glowed with an inner light and seemed to communicate a telepathic message to him. Krypton. Home.
He turned the globe slowly, tracing the outlines of the continents with his fingertip, contours of the land masses that separated earth from water. He imagined snow-capped mountain ranges, barren frozen tundra, and jagged, rust-colored canyons that cut through desert landscape. He imagined vast oceans, tropical jungles teaming with wildlife, and guessed at where the cities of great civilizations might have been established along the coastlines. In his mind, he memorized the geography of a planet he’d probably never see.
It wasn’t home – not really. Not any more than Borneo or Paris or any of the hundreds of temporary places where he had lived for a few days or a few years before moving on. Places in his past, locations of formative experiences, but ultimately nowhere that couldn’t be left behind.
Except…
Clark sighed and cradled the globe securely in his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to reach into his furthest genuine memory, hoping to find any connection to the people of that world beyond the genetic gifts they had left to him. And he remembered…nothing.
What did it matter, anyway? Clark opened his eyes and continued to pack his belongings. He carefully wrapped the globe in tissue paper and gently placed it in a cardboard box, cushioned by the layer of Styrofoam peanuts that protected mementos from his travels around the world. The globe had no more significance than a carved fertility statue – they were both relics from his life that could be tucked away or put on display. Just like Clark Kent and Superman.
Clark continued to remove objects from his shelf, slowly and methodically packing them into moving boxes. He couldn’t do it at super speed; he had given an oath that he wouldn’t use his powers. Cheating on that promise to save someone in need was justifiable. Cheating to flee from his life was not.
He used his tape gun to seal a box closed. Cardboard boxes, packing peanuts, tissue paper, and masking tape: all of it had been stored in the nook at the top of his circular staircase, waiting for this eventuality. He had packed in a hurry before, had cleared out of towns across Europe and Asia and Africa and South America countless times before. But it felt different this time. He wasn’t frantic or panicked, afraid that his secret was one observant bystander’s accusation away from being revealed. This time he was just miserable.
This move wasn’t his choice. No, this move had been imposed on him by a judge faced with public pressure to place blame for Metropolis’ inexplicable heat wave on his convenient shoulders. He couldn’t prove otherwise, couldn’t defend himself without any scientific evidence to support his belief, his feeling that he was blameless. His opinion didn’t hold weight in a court of law.
This time was supposed to be different. This place, this life he had built for himself here in Metropolis, it was different. For once in his adult life, he had finally felt like he was home. It wasn’t summers running through endless corn fields, or ice skating on frozen ponds with childhood friends. It wasn’t Smallville, the tight-knit community that supported as it constrained. He didn’t need the physical location to have his hometown in his heart. He had his parents, only a phone call or quick flight away, ready to guide him through any challenge he might face with patience and kindness, and he had the values they had instilled in him as a child. He’d always have those things.
Metropolis gave him more; it added value. It offered a fulfilling career and the freedom to do good in the world, to use his powers openly in order to help those in need. The multitude of crowds gave him anonymity, even as he hovered proudly above them in Spandex primary colors. It introduced him to Perry and Jimmy, colleagues that he felt could turn into lifelong friends. And it gave him Lois Lane.
Lois Lane, who had burst into his heart when she had burst into his interview. Lois Lane, who challenged and tested and demanded the best out of him. Lois Lane, who with an off-handed remark about bringing a change of clothes to work had inadvertently been the key to helping him express a whole new side of himself. Lois Lane, who in the space of a few months had come to mean everything.
Clark dropped heavily onto his couch, completely dejected. Metropolis was just a town; he could find another.
The Daily Planet was a job – the best, to be sure – but ultimately replaceable. What the heat wave and court system had really taken away from him was a dream. A partner and a friend, an ineffable connection, the potential for a soul-filling love that could last an eternity. Home.
He said goodbye to that dream yesterday at the court house, when he stoically acknowledged her pleas to stay with little more than a brush of his hand along her cheek, knowing that sparing even one word would crumble his resolve and melt away Superman’s façade into the drowning pool of Clark Kent. He said goodbye last night, when his attempt to sneak away leaving nothing but a resignation letter was rejected by a determined and fiery spirit. He said goodbye with a soft kiss that was met with glistening eyes, which broke his heart in the most crushingly beautiful way.
If only he had had more time. Time to deepen their friendship, to get to know each other better. Time for the feelings he already had for her to develop into something deeper. Time to see if the crush Lois had on Superman could ever transform into a meaningful relationship with the man beneath the costume. Time to build trust and be honest with her about every facet of his life, to risk sharing his secret and soul with someone who could appreciate and embrace it. Time for him to truly fall in love with Lois Lane and, maybe, someday, the chance for her to fall in love with him.
Clark surveyed the half-filled boxes of his apartment. He imagined how it might feel to move for a different reason. To get married, buy a home, and move in with her.
Clark stood up from the couch and began stuffing pillows into boxes, using action to stop himself from wandering further down his road of dreams. Flying together to exotic locales for intimate vacations. Celebrating holidays with his folks in Smallville. Sending their child off to his first day of school. No, dreaming the impossible was a painful lesson in futility.
If they had had more time, if they were a committed couple, if she already knew everything about him, then maybe things could be different. She’d come with him; they could go anywhere in the world and build a new life together. He wouldn’t feel isolated and alone.
Each rushed night-time packing he had ever done had been accompanied by that feeling, by the reminder that his differences set him apart. That the price of doing good in the world was the necessity of doing it alone.
Clark paused. What if he made a different choice? What if he told Lois the truth, the real reason he had to leave? What if he took a risk and revealed his secret to her?
Clark scoffed out loud, and then continued packing. What good would that do? Hurt her, and then abandon her anyway? No, it was better to leave her with that heartfelt kiss, allow her to hold some positive memories of their time together in her mind, and hopefully in her heart.
A knock at the front door pulled Clark away from his thoughts. He reflexively tipped down his glasses, but checked himself and did not use his enhanced vision to identify his early morning visitor. As he walked towards the door, he affirmed his decision to leave. He’d never be able to fully comply with the court’s injunction, even if he wanted to. His casual use of powers was ingrained, too much a part of him to be set aside by a court of law. His dreams were meaningless.
Clark opened the door with a heavy heart and then gasped, because he couldn’t begin to process the flood of emotions he felt when he saw Lois Lane.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lois stubbornly straightened her spine, holding two cups of coffee prepared to individual tastes, and projected an air of confidence that she didn’t quite feel. She had had a restless night, tossing and turning, dreams shifting to nightmares as impressions of his kiss warred with his whispered goodbye. But she had awoken with renewed determination. Action was far more productive than tears, and there were specific things on her agenda for the day: reclaim her partner, redeem Superman’s reputation, and win a Pulitzer. That last one was always on her list.
The door to Clark’s apartment opened, and she thrust out her arm. Clark blinked in surprise, reflexively taking the coffee cup before parting his lips as if to begin to say her name. Lois barreled past him, but stopped short at the landing. She surveyed the scene, taking in the piles of cardboard boxes that already appeared to contain the entire contents of his living room. Seeing those boxes only firmed her resolve.
She marched down the short flight of stairs, set her coffee on his end table, then crossed her arms, turning back to face him. “Get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”
Clark sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Lois,” he said, drawing out her name the way he did when he was trying to lightly admonish her. “You know I quit last night. The letter?”
She fluttered her hand as if to brush his words away. “Is irrelevant. Everybody knows you have to give two weeks’ notice. You’re not allowed to just leave.”
He shook his head, a mournful expression coloring his face. He descended the staircase, coming closer to her. “I’m going to miss you.”
Something in his tone of voice seemed to carry a deeper message. An impression, an emotion, a word hovering in the air between them. It was sincere and real in a visceral way, and she wanted to embrace it rather than run away. It made her fight harder. “Clark, this is stupid. You’ve got the best job in the world right here. Smallville doesn’t need you – Metropolis does. I do.”
His eyes widened slightly. He set his coffee cup next to hers. “You do?” Clark’s voice was filled with doubt and a hint of incredulity, as if he was surprised by her words.
His body was so close to hers; if she took one step forward, she could fold herself in his arms. The thought startled her, the fact that she was thinking about molding her body into his startled her, and so Lois took a step backwards and cleared her throat. “Of course, I do. I need my partner.”
The expression on his face transformed. He still appeared surprised, but there was an edge of hope tinting his emotions with delight. Her nerves got caught up in that expression, and Lois felt compelled to explain. “Well, I mean I don’t need a partner. I just don’t mind having a partner. If it’s you. Or someone else. But not Ralph. I got used to having you around, that’s all. It’s fine. If you stayed, I mean. That’s fine. I could use the help. Your help.”
Clark’s expression dimmed. His gaze diverted to the floor as he quietly said, “There’s nothing I want more in the world than to stay. But I can’t. Superman was ordered to leave the city.”
“I know!” Lois threw her hands in the air in frustration. “And we’ll find a way for him to stay by working together as a team.”
Clark looked down at her, tilting his head slightly. “You’ve always supported him. From the very beginning, and through everything, you’ve always had his back. I’m sure he appreciates that.”
Lois couldn’t quite understand Clark’s passive attitude. “He’s your friend, too. And he needs his friends now more than ever. Stay.” Lois balled her fists and put emphasis in her words. “Stay, for him.”
A strained look marred his expression as Clark appeared to resign himself to an unspoken grief. “I can’t,” he choked out, the words struggling to escape his throat. His eyes crinkled shut behind his glasses.
He was going to leave, thought Lois. He was going to take his globally acquired tchotchkes and his comfortable sofa and his masculine scented shampoo and his irritating honesty and his gorgeous brown eyes and his undeniably sexy body and his critically important friendship and pack it all up into a moving van and give it all back to Kansas. Kansas! The most blah-shaped state in the backwater of the country didn’t deserve such a priceless gift.
Anger and frustration and a desperate need to do something to fix a mistake that was out of her control sent Lois into an emotional tailspin. She cared, damn it, but coming to that realization was one thing, expressing it to him was another. A terrifying thought, a secret she’d surely bury deep inside given any other circumstance. Their friendship, their business partnership, their...whatever their relationship was, or is, or could be – none of that required her to confess the feelings she had just come to define for herself. And yet she was sure that if she could say the right words or deliver just the right accusatory pitch or arch a perfectly skeptical eyebrow, she could convince him to change his mind, unpack his boxes, and remain in her life.
Lois stepped forward into Clark’s personal space. Her hands rose in front of her; she hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently placing her fingertips against his chest. She heard him breathe slowly, as if doing so was an intentional rather than automatic process. His eyes opened and asked a silent question, but she lowered her gaze to avoid the intimacy of the moment. She flattened her palms, feeling his solid physical presence before quietly saying, “Stay, for us.”
Clark inhaled, and Lois felt the broad expansion of his chest beneath her hands. He raised his right hand and cupped her cheek, causing her to lift her head and gaze into his eyes. She saw something there: a question, a request, a plea. He whispered words she had once said to him. “There is no us. There’s only you and me.”
Lois cocked her head to the side and frowned. Her expression molded to convey disbelief, silently acknowledging the complete lack of credibility inherent in his statement. Clark shifted his hands to lightly grip her waist as his soulful eyes begged her to respond. Potential energy, stored and simmering and threatening to let loose prompted Lois towards action. She felt like she was on a cliff, filled with nerves both alarming and electrifying, and she wanted to jump, to break free of the chains that always held her back, to take a personal risk she swore she’d never chance again.
Lois let her palms slide up past the hard ridges of Clark’s clavicles, curling over the top of his shoulders, and then moved to cup her hands against the sides of his face. Summoning her courage, she said in a hush, “Stay, for this.” She pulled Clark fractionally towards her. He responded, bending down to meet her lips and pleasure spiraled through her body as she became consumed by their kiss.
His hands gripped her waist tighter in a possessive way, laying claim to her body as his kiss seemed to lay claim to her soul. Her spine tingled in delight, but her brain registered mild alarm, warning her against falling so easily into what could potentially be a huge mistake. She cared, damn it, but she had cared in the past, had slipped sensuously into the arms of a colleague in the past, and she had been irreparably scarred by the experience. So despite the rapturous pleasure of his embrace that called on her to indulge forever, Lois broke free from the kiss and took one step back.
Clark’s hands dropped off her waist and dangled uselessly at his sides. His eyelids closed momentarily as his lips slipped over themselves, and his dazed expression made Lois think he was memorizing their kiss, cataloguing the taste and sensation, transferring the moment into long-term memory, guarding it in case he never experienced a similar moment again.
Which he wouldn’t, if he moved to Kansas. “Smallville?” she asked quietly, hoping he had changed his mind.
Clark’s shoulders visibly sagged as he surveyed the room. His dejected gaze skittered past hers, and then he sighed. “Yeah.”
Lois felt her emotional walls rebuilding brick by brick, stacking up like cardboard boxes in a moving van. Resigning herself to the inevitable was the easiest thing to do, the safest thing to do, which paradoxically meant that it was the last thing Lois wanted to do, because she had come to his apartment on a mission and she really hated to lose.
“Clark,” she said with renewed determination and an emotionally charged undertone that she hoped would sink itself into his skin. “Smallville. Metropolis.” Lois held her hands up, using the foot of space between them to represent geographic distance. Her eyes gestured, silently pleading for understanding. She brought her hands together, pressing her palms like a prayer. She intertwined her fingers and softened her voice. “They should be closer.”
Clark reached out and surrounded her hands with his own. The stillness of the moment held a quiet intimacy, one she could almost tangibly feel slipping away. Clark brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed the side of her fingers gently before letting go. “I wish…” He shook his head sadly. “I wish we had more time.”
“Please, Clark.” Lois shocked herself with the needy quality she heard in her own voice, because she never begged for anything. The desperation of her tone was so unlike her, so out of character for the Mad Dog Lane persona she had carefully crafted at the Planet. A persona she had brought with her on their trip to Smallville, but which somehow had gotten lost along the way in a crowded Corn Festival and a swirling calico dress, in the face of a madman and his fanatical pursuit, and in a fervent hug that embraced so much more than friendship.
Clark shook his head slowly. “Lois…” Her name cut off in a squeak. She saw him swallow roughly past his Adam’s apple, as if his own throat had rebelled against him. He covered his face with his hands and rubbed his fingertips against his closed eyelids. In a raspy hush, he said, “I was ordered to leave the city.”
Lois grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms down. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
His expression suddenly transformed into steel. “Lois,” he said firmly. Clark straightened his spine and looked directly into her eyes. He cleared his throat and said in a register both completely familiar yet deeper than his typical tone, “I was ordered to leave the city.”
Understanding flashed through her as Lois reflexively tightened her grip on his wrists.
* * * * * * * * * *
Clark held his breath. He couldn’t believe he had said that, confessed a truth he had never before dared to speak out loud. Well, to be fair, he still hadn’t quite said the words, hadn’t uttered his alter ego’s name, but if Lois’ tight grasp was any indication, he had certainly revealed enough for her to deduce the rest.
Lois drew in a deep breath, and then slowly released her hold. She extended her right arm and used her index finger to lift the bottom edge of his glasses up to his eyebrows. She looked into his unmasked eyes, studying and searching, but Clark couldn’t interpret the conclusion she was drawing. She let his glasses fall back onto the bridge of his nose, and then slowly ran her fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. She stilled her hands at the top of his head, pausing as she took in his appearance, before letting both of her hands fall away. “Who else knows?” she asked quietly.
“My folks. That’s it.”
Her lips parted slightly, as if she were surprised by his answer. She hesitated, and then looked away, her eyebrows knit in thought. After a moment’s reflection, she said, “This is huge.”
“Yeah,” Clark said simply.
She looked back at him with curiosity. “Why did you tell me?”
Clark gulped. He couldn’t read her emotions, couldn’t know how she’d react to the truth. So he deflected. “Because…of how I feel. About you.”
He watched the corner of her mouth curl upward into a smile as she arched an eyebrow. “And how is that?”
His eyes danced away as he said, “I like you.”
She mocked him with a deadpanned voice. “I like my goldfish.”
Clark rolled his eyes. “I really like you.”
“I really like chocolate.” Lois gave him a challenging look.
Clark laughed lightly, daring to hope that his heart’s gamble had paid off. “Okay, I more than like you. Don’t make me admit how much.”
Her emotions seemed to shift as she shyly tucked her hair behind her ear and asked, “What if I admitted that I might more than like you, too?”
Clark slid his right hand along her cheek. “Then I would be the luckiest man in the world.”
“Not the galaxy?” she asked with a lilt of wry humor.
Clark smiled broadly. “The universe.”
The light in her eyes transformed. She tugged lightly against his waist, urging him closer. Clark responded by cupping her face in his hands, bending down to kiss her. She leaned into his body, and his skin flushed with a glow of warm heat.
Lois broke away from the kiss and whispered against his lips, “You’re not going to leave, are you?”
The reality of his situation caused a wave of sadness to batter his soul. “I have to.”
“You don’t.” Lois was emphatic. “We’ll figure this out. You can’t be causing this heat wave, and we’ll prove it. Together.”
Clark brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Give me a day,” she said with confidence.
Clark cocked his head slightly and asked with a hint of amusement, “And what happens tonight if we still haven’t solved the mystery?”
Lois took a step back and pointedly looked him up and down. She lengthened her spine, placed her hands on her hips, and drew in a breath, deliberately expanding her chest. Clark was powerless to keep himself from noticing the seductiveness of her pose.
She smoldered her eyes and coyly teased, “I’ll convince you to stay.”
Clark whistled softly. “Lord, help me!”
Lois winked, and then pointed towards Clark’s bedroom. “Suit and tie, now. We have work to do.”
Clark threw his hands in the air and blew out a breath in resignation. He muttered to himself as he began to cross the room, “Yes, ma’am.”
Lois laughed as she headed towards the front door of his apartment. “Let’s head back to
the Planet and see if Jimmy has found anything yet.” She bounded up the stairs with a spring in her step, but then suddenly turned to face him. Her eyes widened dramatically as she said with a gasp, “The suit does come off!”
Clark snickered. He closed in on her quickly, backing her against the door, caging her with his body. He tilted his head sideways and slowly kissed his way up her neck before brushing his tongue lightly over her earlobe. A soft sigh fell from Lois’ lips. Clark whispered into her ear, filling his voice with sexual innuendo. “It most certainly does.”
“Oh, god,” she moaned. “You are the cause of all this heat.”
Clark laughed, wrapped his arms around Lois’ body, and lifted her into the air. She squealed, and then giggled as she folded her arms around his neck. “You help me get that court order lifted, and I’ll give you a personal demonstration of Superman’s powers.”
As he set her back down, Lois said, “I think I’d enjoy that, so long as the first thing I see is how fast you can unpack those boxes.”
Clark held her hands in his own and nodded sincerely. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.”
* * * * * * * * * *
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Feedback feeds the soul! 
