Table of Contents I'd like to give special thanks to Catherine Bruce and Nicole Sullivan, who were both extrememly helpful in this part getting done! 
~~~Part 33~~~
"There's something I haven't told you, Pete." Elle felt her cheeks flush, and she looked down at her feet. She was insane. Certifiably insane. She hated this man. "I think I love you."
She looked back up at him, expecting him to be laughing at her. He wasn't. He was looking at her as if he... well, he was giving her a heated stare and his eyes were twinkling...
"Daly, wake up!"
"What?"
"Wake up. You can go in now."
She moaned and shut her eyes tight. Something hard and angular was cutting into her back. The chair. She'd fallen asleep in the hospital waiting room... in a horridly awkward position. Her neck was killing her.
Someone cleared his throat behind her. She opened her eyes slowly and groaned at the light that attacked her.
"Daly, get up."
Well, someone was grouchy this evening. Morning? What time was it, anyway? "I'm up. I'm up."
She sat up, still groggy, and stared at the last man she wanted to see. Henderson. She groaned again. "What do you want?"
"You can go in now. Agent Scardino is finally awake and lucid. Or, at least, he was fifteen minutes ago."
She stared blankly. Who the hell?
"He still hasn't managed to tell us exactly what went on with your involvement in this whole case, but he'll come to his senses soon enough."
Involvement?
"We've decided to give the poor guy a break. It's not every day you get *two* bullet holes punched in you."
"What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"
He grinned at her. "Your friend, Agent Scardino. He asked to see you, though he might have already passed out again."
"Pete *Scardino*? I thought it was Romero."
Henderson paused for a moment, and he cleared his throat. Apparently he was finding something amusing about all this. "Dan, actually, Agent Daniel Scardino. Don't call him Dan, though. He hates it." He grinned.
"But... h-he..." She shut her mouth. She wasn't going to let Henderson enjoy this anymore than he already was. As for Pete or Daniel or Dead Meat... she'd figure that out on her own when she got there.
She sat up straighter and looked Henderson in the eye with her best poker face. Not that she played poker... "What room is he in?"
***
Lying next to Clark like this was... perfect. Her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft sound of his breathing. She'd never felt more calm, and with his arm holding her close, she'd never felt more safe. Her fingers wandered, tracing lazy circles on the thin material of his t-shirt.
"So, other than the hearing... and the flying." She grinned. "And the strength... are there any more super powers I should know about?"
"There's also heat vision, freezing breath, and super speed. I think that's it... unless you count the cooking."
She shifted her head to look at him. "Oh, we'll definitely count the cooking. I'm a disaster in the kitchen."
His eyes twinkled when he smiled at her. "Well, then. I'll just have to cook for us all the time, won't I?"
She nodded against his chest, and it grew quiet again. Peaceful, but there was a hint of hesitancy in the air. Nervousness.
Us, he'd said. The word had a nice ring to it. Unfamiliar, though. And a bit scary as it hung between them in the silence and the promise of more tomorrows. She'd done the relationship thing before, and it had never worked out. And this...
This was different. Way different.
Their connection warmed her heart with an intensity she'd never felt before. It was stronger now, with him so close, and that was daunting. Terrifying, really. Physical and emotional distance seemed to factor into the force of the feelings. Would it always be like this?
And what if it wasn't? What if...
"Clark?"
"Hmm?" he answered lazily.
She lifted her head so she could see his face. "I... I don't know how to do this. I don't know how this is supposed to work."
He looked puzzled for a second, then: "The cooking thing?" He grinned down at her. "I cook. You eat. It's very simple actua-"
"I meant us," she interrupted softly.
"Oh. I..." He trailed off, and she felt their shared energy dip for a brief moment. "I'm not sure, either. I mean... this... the way I feel when I'm with you is new to me."
"For me too," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
She felt his breath hitch, and then he shifted a little so he was facing her. The look on his face was so full of emotion... intense emotion. She could feel the nervous mix of love and uncertainty filtering through to her.
"I do know one thing, though..."
She waited silently for him to find the right words.
"I know that there's something incredibly right about the way you feel in my arms."
Her heart flip-flopped.
"And your smile... When I see it..." He breathed out slowly. "I know I don't need superpowers to fly."
Her breath caught in her throat, and she choked on a sob. No one had ever...
"And when you laugh... God, it's... we've both been through so much... it's so great to hear..." He was blinking back the tears now; she'd given up trying. He lifted his hand a fraction, then put it down again. She frowned, confused until she brought her eyes back to his face. He didn't want to wipe the errant tear away, as if he was trying to be strong. Confident. He couldn't see that he already was.
She did it for him, reaching up to brush the few stray tears that had escaped. That seemed to sober him a touch. He met her eyes again, and it felt as if she were standing on a precipice, waiting for someone to say: Take a chance. Make a leap. I'll catch you.
"Lois, ever since my parents died, I never felt I belonged anywhere. Smallville. Metropolis. London. Beijing... Earth. Nowhere." He paused and closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them it was almost as if he was staring straight into her soul. "But when you're with me, when you smile at me... it feels like home."
She felt it... the moment when her heart plunged, rushing headlong into his. It was... indescribable.
And... all she knew was it didn't matter if she was damaged or he was broken or that they'd probably make an enormous mess of things... something about this just made sense to her.
"I lo-" She swallowed back the emotion clogged in her throat. "I love you, Clark Kent."
His heart soared and took hers with it. She could feel it. His answering smile seemed to light up the room, mixing with the golden remnants of the sunset.
"And I love you, Lois Lane."
An almost sob escaped her, and she reached to wipe the tears from her cheek. "Kiss me?"
He leaned forward to close the distance between them, then his lips were on hers, gentle but insistent. Euphoric. She felt free. Truly free. The taste of their tears mingling together and the feel of their hearts tangling in excitement...
She smiled against his lips. "I love you."
There was a warm puff of air from his chuckle against her mouth. "I love you, too."
An eternity later, he was pulling away. He laid his head down on the pillow and brought his hand up to her cheek, his palm warm against her skin. The way he was looking at her... it took her breath away and started a million butterflies dancing in her stomach.
Her mind flashed back to their night on the island. They hadn't been ready then, but now...
She wanted to be close to him, erase any gap that remained between them. She wanted to know... to see if it was true what they said. That making love was a powerful connection.
Her hand came up to caress the side of his face, coarse from a few days of growth. Would he stop them again?
"Make love to me, Clark."
***
Someone must have stolen all the air from the room because he couldn't breathe. Or he'd forgotten to.
She'd asked...
She was waiting for an answer, her eyes searching his...
His heart was skittering about in his chest, screaming 'yes.' He wanted this. He'd never wanted anything more in his life. He was nervous, but... there wasn't any fear. Not this time.
He only nodded, unable to speak.
He cupped her cheeks in both hands and brought her lips back to his, reveling in the feeling as she moved to settle over his body. He tasted her, gentle at first, then with more hunger. He didn't have to reign it in. No reason to stop this time. No reason not to find out... to finally know what how it felt to be fully connected with someone else.
With Lois.
His Lois.
She pressed closer, her soft curves molding against his body. A quiet moan escaped him. This was... more... more than before... more than the other kisses they'd shared. It was electric.
He dragged his lips away so he could stare up at her. Drink in the sight of her. Of this moment. Her flushed cheeks, her slightly accelerated breathing, her heart galloping wildly in his ears and in his chest...
He never wanted to forget.
Slow. He knew he wanted to take this slow. There wasn't any rush. They had all the time in the world. Not this slow, though... He wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Where his boundaries were... if he had any.
Back on the island he hadn't thought at all. It'd been instinct. Or something. He'd been caught up in the passion of the moment, her responses, his hormones...
The way she'd touched him... the way she was touching him now...
He let out a slow, shaky breath as his hands fell from her face.
Her hands had found their way beneath his shirt and were running along his chest, his stomach... threatening to dip below his waistline. His muscles clenched, and he felt his nerves explode and scatter inside him from just her touch. And the look she was giving him... almost a coy smile, but one filled with heated desire.
She straightened above him and straddled herself across his hips, settling firmly atop him. He groaned. The thick denim of her jeans and the thin cotton of his boxers... that was all that was separating them. A small shiver of anticipation ran through him.
She was edging the hem of his shirt upwards, but she hesitated, as if waiting for a sign from him that it was okay. It was more than okay. He raised his arms over his head to make it easier for her, and in a torturously slow movement, it disappeared.
He watched as she stared, ridiculously proud that the sight of his chest seemed to rob her of breath. She exhaled sharply and resumed her exploration. Slower this time, gentler, and...
He let out his own sharp exhalation. Every where she'd touched him tingled, seemed to be on fire. But her hand paused... his shoulder.
Her gaze caught his for a brief moment. "There's no scar," she whispered in wonder.
It tingled more as she ran her light fingers over the spot where his scar should have been. He only shook his head and brought his other arm up to her neck to draw her lips against his.
A flash of warmth surged through him. He was half naked in his bed with the most beautiful woman in the world on top of him. Man, what a heady feeling. He crushed his lips harder against Lois's, rasping for air when he could, then attacking again.
He wanted more... more of her. He wanted to show her...
His lips traveled to taste her, straining up to reach her cheekbone. Her chin. Her neck. And he found a spot just behind her ear that was... so soft, and the little whimper of a sigh she'd made...
He wanted to hear that again.
He settled back to the bed, a bit breathless. There was more of her neck to explore, but he couldn't reach so well from this position. He shifted. Awkwardly. It was hard to move when Lois had found... Hell, it was hard to think with Lois's lips against his collarbone... and running up along his neck and claiming his earlobe.
His eyes rolled back in his head. There was an insistent tug in his stomach and a growing fire.
He needed her.
Wanted her.
Loved her.
He pushed at her gently, willing her to stop for a moment, but desperately wanting her to continue what she was doing with her tongue.
She pulled back, wearing a slightly dazed, questioning look.
"I just..." He shifted again, trying to slide out from under her at least somewhat gracefully. Graceful wasn't happening, though. Thankfully, she realized what he was trying to do and moved off him and settled atop the comforter.
She was lying next to him now, watching him, and one of her hands reached over to cup his cheek. "C'mere." She smiled softly at him, and his heart skipped a beat.
Breathing. He knew there was something he'd forgotten to do in the last minute.
His pulse was jumping in his neck as he moved over her. All he could do was stare... in awe and wonder and... How was it this woman could make him feel this way?
Gentle curves, a heart that was thundering through his senses... all wrapped up in a wrinkled gray t-shirt and an over-worn pair of jeans... and she was all his.
*She* wanted *him*.
Him. Ragged and damaged and...
Clark Kent.
"I... I want you to know, Lois..." He moved to thread his fingers through her hair and cup her cheek. "I trust you."
He felt his heart surge... with relief. Her relief? She smiled and he knew.
"I trust you, too, Clark." Then she was reaching for him, pulling him down on top of her and pressing her lips to his.
TBC...
