This is more a transition part: the set up for the scenario that leads into the grand finale.
Second Choice: 14/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"I guess." He felt the mattress give slightly as she sat down next to him. "I think it means you're enough like us that it doesn't matter." Her hand slid into his. "I'm pretty sure I love you," she said suddenly. "Did you know that?"
He opened his eyes to look up at her. "I hoped you might, at least someday."
"Not someday," Lois said quietly. "Now. I don't think I've ever been so scared as I was when I saw you lying on the ground there in the barn. I was afraid I was going to lose you." She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Go to sleep. Maybe after you've had some rest you'll feel better."
He didn't tell her that hearing her say that she loved him had been a better tonic than all the sleep in the world. She got up and went into the small bathroom. There was the sound of water running and she reappeared with a wet washcloth that she laid carefully across his forehead. "Go to sleep," she repeated.
Obediently, he closed his eyes.
**********
And now, Part 14:
When Clark woke it was past four. He turned his head cautiously but the room remained steady and a glance at the clock told him that he needed to get up. Lois and the others would need dinner before he went to work.
Cautiously, he pushed himself into a sitting position and breathed a faint sigh of relief when the world stayed upright. The throbbing headache was gone, he realized, and with it the weakness that had afflicted him right after his introduction to the crystals. Still, something seemed to be missing but it wasn't until he tried to hear the sounds in the house to tell him where everyone was that he realized what it was. He had no super hearing. An attempt to look through the walls with his x-ray vision also met with failure.
He got out of bed slowly, paying close attention to his body's signals. The ache in his muscles and joints had vanished and the nausea was gone as well. He felt perfectly all right, except that whatever it was that gave him the extra abilities that he had possessed for the last few years of his life appeared to be in abeyance. Hopefully that was a temporary condition as well, he thought with determined optimism, as he pulled on his clothing once more. He was already considerably improved since Wayne had first shown him the mystery crystals. Whatever they were, they were something that he didn't want to encounter again. They were poisonous to him; that much was obvious.
He was combing his hair when the bedroom door opened quietly and Lois entered the room.
"Clark! What are you doing out of bed?"
He smiled at her. "I feel all right," he told her. "No headache, no aches and pains or anything."
"You're sure?" she asked.
"Yeah. I feel ..." He paused and his voice dropped. "Normal."
Her eyes narrowed. "Normal? What does that mean?"
"I mean, I feel all right. Just -- no powers."
"What?"
"No super hearing, no x-ray vision. No flying. I tried."
"Then you're not back to normal!"
"No, but I'm like everybody else," he said quietly. "Maybe it's a good thing."
She shook her head. "No, it's not. Normal for you is extraordinary. Anything less isn't normal."
"Well, yeah -- but I don't feel bad or anything. It's silly for me to be lying in bed like I was sick. Besides, I need to fix dinner."
"I made sandwiches," Lois said, a little defiantly. "And macaroni salad." She paused, looking a little embarrassed. "Mother cooked the macaroni."
"Oh," he said. He put an arm around her. "I'm impressed."
"And," Lois said, "what I told Mother -- that a branch fell and hit you on the head -- I told Lucy the same thing. That's the official story, anyway. And Lucy's going over to spend the night at Celia's."
"Really? It sounds like she and Celia hit it off pretty well."
"Yeah. They both like 'Wham!'."
At his raised eyebrows she laughed softly. "They're thirteen," she pointed out.
"I guess there's no accounting for taste," Clark agreed. "All right. Are you driving her over or is someone picking her up?"
"I'm going to drive her over at about seven," Lois said.
"Any chance you could drive me to work, too? I have to be there at six."
"Clark, you're not working tonight! Not after what happened!"
"I need to," he told her soberly. "Really, honey, I feel all right. Just not...super. We need the income," he added. "I know we don't have to pay rent but there's still a lot of things we *do* need to pay for and that means I have to go to work."
"I can work too, you know," she pointed out. "You were the one that wanted me to --"
"I didn't say I didn't want you to work," Clark said. "I want you to do exactly whatever you want to do -- but right now you have an education to finish, as well as a mother and sister to keep tabs on while Lucy's out of school. If you want to get a job for the rest of the summer, we'll figure out how we can manage it and still do the rest -- but I still need to go to work tonight. We've got bills to pay."
She was watching him with a puzzled expression. He waited for her to speak but she didn't.
"What?" he asked.
"You," she said.
"Huh?"
"Nothing. But I'm going to be waiting for you when you get off work. Don't even think you're going to walk. As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to the movies tonight after I drop Lucy off."
He looked doubtful. "The main feature is 'Conan the Destroyer', he told her, "and the other one is 'The Pope of Greenwich Village'. I don't know if you'll like them much. 'The Karate Kid' is supposed to be pretty good but we don't get it until Wednesday. Smallville Theater doesn't get most of the good movies until they've been out in the bigger cities for two or three weeks."
"That's all right," Lois said. "I'll just watch Arnold and compare him unfavorably with you."
He could feel his face growing pink. Even after being married to Lois for two days and two amazing nights, she still had the power to fluster him. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. "Don't be so modest, husband. I've seen a lot of guys take their shirts off in movies, and so far I haven't seen even one that looks as good as you do. Come on downstairs when you're ready. We're eating in a few minutes."
**********
"Hi, Clark." Pete Ross, escorting Lana, stopped at the ticket booth window and Pete shelled out the money for two tickets. "How's it going?"
"Fine," Clark said.
"I hear you fixed up the farmhouse," Pete said casually. "Mind if I come over and see what you've done to the place?"
"No," Clark said. "Come over any time you like."
"I thought you were going to sell the property," Lana said, and Clark detected the faintly acid note under the honey. "My dad's been wanting to buy it but Wayne Irig wouldn't even talk to him about it."
"That's because it was *my* property," Clark said mildly. "Wayne wasn't about to sell it before I was old enough to take over."
"That old place," Lana said contemptuously. "Nobody who's anybody farms these days."
Pete glanced at Lana and Clark thought the conversation made him uncomfortable. "Will it be okay if I come by tomorrow afternoon after church?"
"Sure," Clark told him. "Give me a call first, would you? -- just to be sure somebody's there."
"I heard you got married," Lana said, the acid in her voice more pronounced. "I guess that's going to make it hard to go to school this fall."
Clark had figured that was the reason for her attitude. "No. I've been accepted at Midwest U," he said blandly. "It's only an hour from here. It's less expensive living at home than paying for university housing."
Pete cleared his throat. "The rumor's all over town," he said. He looked at Clark's left hand.
Clark glanced casually at the people waiting impatiently behind him. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow," he said. "Better go on in. You're holding up the line."
Pete nodded, gave him an infinitesimal wink and steered Lana into the lobby of the theater. Clark smiled at the next customer. "How many?"
"Two adults and two children," Allan Graham, the owner of Graham's Rental Cars told him. Clark accepted the money and pushed the requested tickets across the counter to him. Graham took the tickets and herded his wife and twin sons through the turnstile.
As the evening wore on, Clark found it amusing to realize how quickly the word had spread around town that he was married. Lana and Pete weren't the only ones to hint at the subject. Persons whom he barely knew cast glances at his left hand and several asked him right out if he was married, to which he always replied pleasantly that he was. Fortunately, the nature of his job made long conversations impossible, but he was sure that the rumors about who his wife was and whether or not she was expecting were floating around the town. Smallville's grapevine was a well-established plant. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his marriage -- far from it. He simply wanted to be able to control how the information was passed along, at least as much as he could.
He handed two tickets to Hank Weston and Rachel Harris, recalling what Lois had said about Hank and his hands, and hoping that Rachel would be able to keep Hank in his place if he got too aggressive. She probably would, he reflected. Sheriff Harris hadn't raised any wimps for daughters as Rachel and both her sisters had proven over and over while they'd been growing up. Rachel smiled at him as she turned to push through the turnstile into the theater, and glanced at his hand. "Congratulations," she told him.
He smiled back at her. Rachel and he had been friends since first grade. "Thanks," he said.
The next couple stepped up to the window, and Ronnie Davis said, "Two adults, please."
Clark detached two tickets from the roll and accepted the money Ronnie held out. Ronnie was nineteen and his date this evening was Carole Tibbets, who had been the female valedictorian in Clark's graduating class. She and Clark had been friends, and worked together on more than one school project. She smiled at Clark, after the briefest glance at his left hand. "Congratulations, Clark," she said.
Ronnie Davis had barely noticed him but now he turned to look at Clark. "You're Kent, right?" he said.
"That's right," Clark said briefly.
"So you're the guy," he remarked obscurely. A little smile curled his lips. "I guess I should congratulate you too." The smile turned into a grin that wasn't entirely pleasant. "Always wondered what a white knight looked like."
Clark ignored the comment as well as the smirk. "Thanks, Carole," he said with a smile. "Better go on. The movie starts in ten minutes."
By the time his shift had ended and he was closing up the booth, while inside the theater a diminished number of persons watched the last showing for the evening of Arnold disposing of hundreds of various overwhelming foes, he was conscious of a sensation that he hadn't felt since his super powers had started appearing: fatigue. He glanced at his watch, noting that it was two minutes to midnight. Lois would be here in a few minutes. He finished the last details and clocked out only a minute or two late. Emerging from the theater, he saw the little blue car sitting quietly by the curb, Lois behind the wheel.
As he crossed the sidewalk to where his beautiful wife waited for him, he reflected briefly on how much his life had changed since he and Lois had gotten married, two days ago. His routine had certainly changed but he wasn't complaining. In those two days he had gone from "just best friends" to the man Lois loved, and he had begun to learn about his history. Sure, the green crystal had appeared but, married or not, that would probably have happened anyway and at least now he didn't have to face whatever the result was alone. Lois's mother was going to be a problem but they would cope one way or another. He was more concerned with protecting Lois and Lucy from her dysfunctional behavior, if the truth were known, than anything else. Certainly, he would like to help her but some of that help was going to have to come from Ellen, herself, and it was obvious that, at least so far, she didn't realize that there was a problem, or at least she didn't have the motivation to do anything about it. The fact that she was bitter about life was not an excuse, in Clark's eyes, for making her daughters' lives miserable, or destroying their happiness. He'd seen the cynicism and, to be honest, contempt, with which Lucy regarded her mother's alcoholism, and it worried him. He didn't want Lois's sister to be harmed by her mother's inability to cope with life. The children of alcoholics were more likely to have more problems later in life and that wasn't good. He wasn't sure what to do about it except to show Lucy that he and Lois cared about her and to try to figure out some way to get Ellen to accept the idea of going into a rehab program. How they were going to do that he wasn't sure, but somehow they had to manage it.
He opened the passenger door and got in beside Lois. "Hi."
"Hi." She leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "How do you feel?"
"All right," he fibbed and then grinned at the expression on her face. "All right, I'm a little tired, but I'll bet you are, too, aren't you?"
"Well, yes -- but not *too* tired. Are you?"
He laughed softly. "Definitely not. Besides, we're still on our honeymoon."
"Good." She started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
**********
When Clark awoke the next morning, Lois was still sleeping soundly. It was past eight and to Clark, who normally woke before seven, it seemed very late. Still, they'd gotten to sleep around one in the morning, and today was his day off, so it wasn't as if he was late to work or anything. Church didn't start until ten o'clock, so Lois could sleep late if she wanted to. If she even wanted to go to church this morning. There was always the service on television if she didn't feel like making her first appearance as Mrs. Kent yet. He figured he'd leave the decision up to her. As for him, the thought of walking into church with the most beautiful woman in town on his arm would be great. Not that Lois was any sort of trophy wife. He grinned to himself at the thought. He had the feeling that before long, Lois would regain her usual stride and would shortly be running the Kent household with the same determination that she had used when running the Lane one. Wayne had been right when he called her a stick of dynamite. He suspected that Wayne had been more right than even he knew.
He dressed quietly and went down the stairs on tiptoe so as not to wake Lois. Waking Ellen wasn't an issue. They had walked in the door last night to discover Ellen snoring on the couch, a half-empty glass of vodka and orange juice sitting on the floor beside her. Clark and Lois between them had managed to get her up to her room and into bed, but Clark suspected that this was likely to be the pattern in the foreseeable future.
Once downstairs, he stepped outside into a typical warm and humid Kansas summer morning. To the east the sun was bright and the sky was a clear bright blue, dotted with puffy, white clouds, but to the west darker clouds were gathering. It looked like another summer thunderstorm might be on its way.
He turned toward the sun, letting the warmth leach into him. The sunlight felt good on his face and arms and he had the momentary impulse to strip off his shirt and soak in its rays. He didn't, of course, but he stayed outside, drinking in the sunlight for another ten minutes while he stood back, looking the house over.
The repair and furbishing-up job that he had done had been a pretty thorough one. The house looked almost new with its bright coat of paint and the new roof. His mother's two rose bushes by the front steps had grown scraggly with time and he decided that a little pruning might be in order. He'd have to read up on the art of pruning them so he could do the job right, he thought. Maybe he could find his mother's book about roses and do that this evening, if he had the time.
But right now, breakfast should probably be next on the agenda. Lois would be waking up soon, and Ellen was going to come downstairs after while, wanting something for her headache. He was tempted to throw away the bottles of booze, but couldn't quite bring himself to take something belonging to someone else, even if it was for her own good. Ellen Lane was an adult, after all, even if she acted like a child. He didn't have the right to make her do anything, even if he thought it would probably be best for her. Besides, she'd probably just go thumb another ride into Smallville and buy more.
Making breakfast at normal speed took longer than he'd expected and he was reminded again that he wasn't invulnerable anymore when he absentmindedly took hold of the iron skillet with his bare hand. He let go at once and stuck his hand under the cold water faucet for several minutes. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any blisters, he saw when he examined his offended palm. Just a slight reddening of the skin -- but he certainly wouldn't make that mistake again. That had *hurt*!
He was just setting the breakfast table when Lois came down the stairs, wearing the outfit that he had seen her wear at the church a number of times. "What are we eating? We've got about an hour before we have to be at church."
"Is your mom coming?" he asked automatically.
"Not if she's as hung over as I think she's going to be," Lois said, making a face.
"Are you sure you want to go?" he asked. "People are going to gossip."
"They'll gossip more if we don't," she pointed out. "If we go and act like we're not trying to hide anything, they'll have less to discuss."
"That's true," Clark agreed. "Let's eat and then I'll go change. We'll leave something out for your mom to fix for herself in case she feels like eating."
"That's a bet I wouldn't take," Lois said. She applied herself to breakfast with determination. "Unless it's vodka," she added cynically.
**********
Contrary to what Clark expected, not many persons seemed surprised when he and Lois walked into the little church together. Pastor Neil was greeting the members of his congregation and smiled at the two of them as they came through the door. "Hello, Clark. I'd heard you were married. Is this your bride?"
"Yes," Clark said. "You know Lois, don't you?"
The minister smiled at Lois. "I met Miss Lane -- I mean, Mrs. Kent -- several months ago. I haven't seen you for a few weeks, Lois. Welcome back."
"Thank you," Lois said composedly. Only Clark was aware of her hand squeezing his tightly. She and Clark went on into the church and found a place near the back.
From a spot halfway down the pew, Harold Johnson, one of the coaches for the Stingrays, was seated next to his wife. He lifted a hand to Clark and would have started a conversation if the organ hadn't begun to play, drowning out all but the loudest voices. Lois reached for one of the hymnals and opened the program pamphlet that was provided for the use of the congregation, and Clark drew a faint sigh of relief. His powers still weren't back, judging from his failure to lift the front of their car in the parking lot, but at least this part of the day was going well. Pushing aside for the fiftieth time this morning the worry that his powers might not return, he, too, reached for a hymnal, hoping devoutly that Lois wouldn't expect him to do more than mouth the words. Singing just wasn't one of his talents.
The sensation of being watched made him look around. The Langs were just taking their seats across the aisle and Lana was glaring at Lois. Lois glanced up and Clark could swear that he heard a distinct click as the two women locked gazes. Clark swallowed. He hoped Lana wouldn't start anything in church; he really didn't feel like dealing with the results if she lost her temper. He knew Lois well enough by now to know that Lana would run into an unpleasant surprise if she were to try to start something with Lois Lane. Lana was looking at Lois in a way that made Clark profoundly nervous. Lois, on the other hand, met Lana's gaze with an expression so blank that Clark might have thought that she didn't have any idea of the hostility being directed at her, if he hadn't known better. Lois raised her eyebrows, gave Lana a faint, aloof smile and turned her gaze back to the hymnal.
After church, they stayed only a few minutes. Clark was anxious to leave before Lana caused a scene but the Langs didn't approach. With luck, he thought, her parents might persuade Lana that a public catfight over Clark's choice of brides wouldn't do her social standing any good. He and Lois bade goodbye to Pastor Neil and headed out toward the parking lot and the little blue car.
One of Clark's former football teammates hailed them on the way and they stopped to allow Bill Norton to catch up. Bill had been the Stingrays' starting quarterback for the past two years and had graduated at the same time Clark did. He was an inch or so shorter than Clark, well-built, blue-eyed and blond, with a crinkle in the bridge of his nose -- a momento of the incident in his sophomore year when he had been tackled by a linebacker from an opposing team and ended up with a broken nose.
"Hey, Clark!" Bill trotted up, a grin on his face.
"Hi Bill. How are things going?"
"Great. I got accepted at Midwest U on a football scholarship." He looked at Lois. "Hi," he added. "You're Lois Lane, right?"
"That's right," Lois said. "Only it's Lois Lane Kent now."
"I heard you'd gotten married," Bill said to Clark. "Congratulations. You're a lucky man." He smiled at Lois in a friendly way. "I was supposed to ask Clark if he'd volunteer for the water balloon booth at the Corn Festival."
"Water balloon booth?" Clark asked, slightly dismayed.
"Yeah. They're short a target. You'd only have to do it for a couple of hours," Bill told him. "I'm one of the others. It's for the orphanage fundraiser, you know."
"Sure," Clark said at once. "Where do I sign up?"
"I'll tell my mom," Bill said. "She'll call you about it. What's your phone number?"
Clark gave it and Bill carefully wrote it down. "Thanks," he added. "Mom'll really appreciate it." He smiled at Lois. "You married the last boy scout, you know," he added. "I'll talk to you later," he told Clark.
"Sure," Clark said. He opened the car door as Bill trotted off. Lois got into the driver's seat.
"I'd forgotten the Corn Festival," Lois said. "Weren't you the target for the water balloons last year?"
"Yeah. One of them," Clark admitted. "It's for a good cause."
"He said you were the last boy scout," Lois said. "I guess he was right."
Clark shrugged. "Do you mind?"
"No; not a bit." She leaned her head against his arm for an instant before starting the car. "I used to think boy scout types were a bit dorky -- or maybe they had to have an ulterior motive -- but I changed my mind after I met you. Do you think we managed to kill the gossip?"
"Probably not, but it won't be as juicy now as it would have been. People will find something else to talk about before long."
"Lana was sure giving me the evil eye."
"I noticed. Lana dumps guys; they don't dump her. The only thing was, I didn't. She dated other guys besides me, and I dated, too."
"The way I heard it, Lana told Rachel Harris to back off and Rachel told Lana what she could do about it," Lois said.
"Oh yeah?" That surprised him.
"You mean you didn't know?"
He shook his head.
She reached over to pat his arm. "That's part of your country boy charm," she said tolerantly. "I probably shouldn't even admit that the girls on the cheerleading squad liked walking behind you while you were in your football uniform. I wouldn't want you to get any ideas."
"Huh?"
"Those uniforms have very form-fitting pants," Lois said innocently, "and you have a very nice --"
Clark felt the heat flood his face. "Lois!"
"Well, you do," she said.
Clearly he wasn't going to win this one. "I guess," he said, changing the subject, "we should head for home."
She nodded. "I have to study this afternoon. My Monday evening class is having a test."
"Yeah. I've got some stuff I need to work on around the house. Do you happen to know anything about pruning rosebushes?"
"No," Lois told him. "I have a brown thumb." She paused. "Any sign of your powers coming back?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. I sure hope they're not gone for good. I've only had them for a few years, but they're something I really don't want to give up."
"Especially the flying," Lois said.
"Yeah," Clark agreed.
**********
The phone was ringing as they walked into the house. Ellen Lane, sprawled on the sofa with a wet rag over her eyes, groaned and covered her ears, making a futile swipe at the instrument. Clark picked up the hand set and went into the kitchen. The swinging door closed behind him.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hey, Clark!" Pete's voice said. "I'm going past your place in a little while. You going to be home?"
"Sure," Clark said.
"Great. I'd like to drop by for a bit."
"Okay," Clark told him. "I don't suppose you know anything about pruning rosebushes, do you?"
"Only that you need to wear gloves," Pete said.
"Oh," Clark said. It looked like he was going to have to get out his mother's rose book. He'd noticed it among some of the books he'd retrieved from storage and arranged in the hall bookcase. "Okay, see you in a while."
Lois had gone upstairs to change, he saw when he re-entered the living room. Ellen Lane looked at him with bloodshot eyes and lurched off the sofa, making her wavering way toward the kitchen. Clark set the phone down on the charger on his way past and hurried toward the stairs to change out of his good clothes and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before Pete arrived. At the top of the stairs, before entering the bedroom, he tried to X-ray through the door but the results were disappointing.
Lois was pulling on a pair of snug jeans when he entered the room. Clark gave a low wolf whistle. "Too bad Pete's coming over in a little while," he said.
Lois grinned. "Did I mention that *I* liked walking behind you, too?"
He snorted. "Well, now you know why I liked walking behind *you*."
"Mmm. Maybe we could get to bed a little early tonight," she suggested.
"I'd like that," he said.
"Me too. Any sign of your powers coming back yet?"
"No."
Instantly she dropped her teasing tone and came to put her arms around him. "Is there anyone you can go to for help?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nobody knows about me but you and Wayne, and you're the only one who knows about the powers," he said. "The only thing we can do is wait."
"I don't have any way to back it up," Lois said, "but I have the feeling that it's going to be all right. You feel all right, don't you?"
"More or less -- except for not having any powers."
"That's what puzzles me," Lois said. "This stuff knocked you out and took away the powers you've had since you were what -- eleven?"
"I started getting stronger at ten, but I think I'd been getting harder to hurt before that -- I never got a skinned knee or a cut after I was about eight, although I picked up a few minor bruises. I fell out of my tree house when I was nine and landed on the back of my neck. I was a little sore for a while but I was fine by morning. Looking back now, I should probably have been killed."
"So you've had at least some of your powers for nearly ten years," Lois said. "It doesn't make sense that this green crystal could just take them away. I wonder if it's sort of like a cold and when your body overcomes it, they'll come back."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Maybe. I hope you're right."
"I'll bet I am."
The sound of a car engine outside made Clark release her. "That's probably Pete. I've got to change."
"I'll tell him you'll be right down," Lois said.
**********
tbc
