Table of contents is here .

LAST TIME ON EMII:

He whispered softly, his words cracking. "I can't believe how close we came to losing all of this."

"Nor can I," said Lois. She felt a pricking in the corner of her eyes, an echo of the despair she'd felt when she'd thought that she had. She was so grateful that he had survived! She couldn't even begin to put that gratitude into words. She leaned over him, lowering her head towards his. Their lips moving in perfect synchronisation, and she realised that she didn't need to say anything because the kiss conveyed all that and more. It held the richest blend of desperation, pleasure, gratitude and need. Most of all, though, it held the promise of a deep and abiding love.

The last thoughts she had, before she gave into the wave of sensation and emotion, was that CJ was right – they [i]were a great team, in every sense of the word – and that she didn't care what the future would bring, because everything she'd ever wanted was contained in this one moment, shared with this one perfect man.

NOW READ ON...[/i]


CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


CJ had a lot of time to think during his stay in hospital. He thought about the way he had, heedless of his own safety, stepped into the path of a bullet that had been intended for Lois. It was the second time he had done something like that, he realised. Twice he had put her safety above his own. That had to mean something.

Well, of course it meant something! It meant that he cared about what happened to her. He loved her.

It was the dumbest luck that he'd survived both the bullet and the fall. As he lay on his back he mused that, had he been human, he might well not have done. But then, had he been human, none of this would have been possible in the first place. He would have been killed two weeks ago. He and Lois would not have forged an alliance and brought Luthor down. There would have been no need for him to have to go to Lois's rescue.

He wondered how it was that he had managed to fly. All the powers had faded several days ago... or so he had thought. Yet, in his desperation, he'd managed to fly over to Lois's apartment, thereby taking Luthor by surprise.

If he had flown then – which, of course, he had – did that mean he could do it again? And if he could, what else could he do?

CJ managed to throw the bed covers aside, and eased himself into a sitting position. He had to try, he thought. He had to know whether he could still fly, or whether last night had been a one-off miracle.

It was almost too terrifying for him to make the attempt. If he couldn't fly again... He pushed the thought that he wouldn't be able to bear the loss to one side. It had been bad enough to have to say good-bye to that power the first time. If he had to again... Could he do it? Of course he could, he told himself. Other people lost far more important things everyday of their lives.

Still... He had to know, one way or the other.

He willed his body to move, but nothing happened. Then, remembering how he'd first taught himself to levitate, back in Lois and Clark's house, he forced himself to concentrate on a notice on the far wall, telling himself that he wanted to read it. His aching body rose an inch off the bed, then two more, and, without trying any further, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that somehow he still had the power.

He gasped and sobbed with joy at the revelation.

Then, regaining some semblance of calm, he wondered what else he could do, if anything. He lowered his glasses and concentrated on the notice, willing the writing to magnify: "In case of emergency" he read, followed by instructions for evacuation in case of fire. Then he peeled back the layers of the wall to reveal the sight of a nurse working on a patient in the adjacent room. The he tried – and succeeded – to listen to their conversation.

He was thrilled to still have his powers, and, although he didn't like to tempt fate by questioning his good fortune, he found that he couldn't help himself.

Why, he wondered, if he had some powers now, had they failed him on the way back from Bolivia? It made no sense. Or maybe, he suddenly realised, it did. Maybe they'd failed him then simply because he'd used up all his power reserves. The sun couldn't help him to regenerate, not on this world. Besides, it had been dark for most of his return journey. Maybe he'd just pushed himself beyond the limits of his endurance, and he'd needed time to recover.

Now that he was thinking about it, he realised that he'd woken up in hospital feeling almost as drained as he'd felt on the train journey from Richmond. He'd thought his fatigue was the result of his injuries, but maybe that wasn't the only reason. Maybe he'd tired himself out by flying to Lois's side. If he was right then it meant that there were definite limits to his abilities.

He found he didn't care very much. At least he had something, and being able to fly at all was a blessing.

CJ caught sight of something: the magazine Lois had been reading earlier lay abandoned on the windowsill across the room. To his astonishment, he saw that it was a twin to one he'd seen back in the other world. His mind flashed back to a companionable breakfast in Lois and Clark's townhouse. He'd entered the kitchen to see Clark's Lois sighing and huffing over her copy of "Metropolis Science" in much the same what that his Lois had done.

"So, what's the article about?" he'd asked.

Clark's Lois had replied with characteristic bluntness. "Well, this one's about telekinesis, believe it or not. But, basically, it's badly-written drivel. In fact, the whole magazine leaves a lot to be desired. It's a special on ESP. Deja vu. Precognition. Telekinesis. Remote viewing. That kind of thing. Nonsense, really."

"Remote viewing?" he'd asked. "What's that?"

Lois had shrugged. "Sounds like so much mumbo-jumbo to me, but the idea is that remote viewers can get hold of information that would normally be hidden by distance, space or time. Apparently the military have been doing research into it. They call it 'mental espionage'."

Lois had been dismissive about most of the articles in the issue, finding them less than credible. Now, though, CJ found himself wondering whether there might not be some truth in what the magazine's authors had said because remote viewing sounded suspiciously like a twisted form of his X-ray vision.

Was it possible, he wondered, that some of his (and Clark's) powers were, at least in part, fuelled by ESP? He knew that conventional wisdom was that Clark's powers were solar induced, and perhaps that was true of strength and invulnerability. But the others... Since he was no longer being powered by the sun, he knew he had to look elsewhere for an explanation for how his remaining powers worked. And they did seem to have much in common with the human paranormal...

If he were right, and it was a huge if, then that would mean he'd always had the potential for them; he'd just never known about them, allowing them to linger untapped until his sojourn into the other dimension. It also meant that they would remain with him now.

CJ wondered how soon he could get out of the hospital and test everything out properly.


***************
Friday, 23 May 1997
***************

On Friday afternoon Lois picked a freshly discharged CJ up and drove him home. Much to his embarrassment, she insisted on taking his bag from him, ignoring his protests that he only needed one fully functional arm to carry it, as she led the way from the Jeep up to his apartment.

Once inside, she ordered him to sit on the couch while she proceeded to open windows to change the stale air. She made tea, adding milk she found in the door of refrigerator; she couldn't understand why foul smelling lumps floated to the top of the mugs until CJ told her that the milk had been open for several days before he had been admitted to hospital. She fussed over him, plumping cushions and demanding every five seconds to know whether or not he was all right.

He knew she meant well and he honestly appreciated her presence, but he finally had enough. "Lois!" he protested. "I'm fine, but I won't be if you continue the mother hen act for much longer. You're wearing me out!"

He immediately felt guilty because Lois looked positively crestfallen, and he found himself apologising. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know you mean well, but you're... exhausting! Just... come over here and relax."

"I'm sorry, too," she said as she did as she was bade, and sat down on his right. He was grateful for that because it meant that he could use his good arm to gather her into a one-armed hug. She nestled against his side, and he marvelled at how perfectly she fitted there. "I just thought that you could do with a little mothering, is all."

"No offence, Lois, but you're not very good at it. Besides, the last thing I want you to be is my mother! I'd rather you were..."

"Were what?" she prompted.

"Well, let me put it this way. I never kissed my mother the way I kiss you!"

"I should hope not!" cried Lois, laughing. "And I can see your point. I guess I'm not a very caring person, am I?"

"Lois?" said CJ incredulously. "You are one of the most caring people I know. You worry about me and you love me, and if that's not caring, then I don't know what is. It's just that you're not very..."

"I'm not very what, CJ?" she asked.

"Domestic. And when you try..." He pointed at his tea and grimaced.

"You're not going to drink that, are you?" she said sadly.

"No. And I suggest that you don't drink yours, either."

"I wasn't going to. It is pretty awful, isn't it?"

"It's worse than that!" he said. "Promise me something?"

"That depends what it is."

"When we set up house together, you'll never cook." The full import of what he had just said hit him; he'd more or less said that they'd be living together. He froze for a moment, unsure how Lois would react to that.

She laughed, accepting his comment as if there was nothing momentous about it at all. He hoped that meant what he thought it meant: that she, like him, was assuming that one day, possibly one day soon, they would be moving in together. "CJ, I never cook, period! I know my limitations!"

CJ glanced at the tea but said nothing. The action was not lost on her, however, because she added, "Okay, okay. I know most of my limitations. And I have some great restaurants on speed-dial. And speaking of food, do you want Mexican or Chinese tonight?"

"Anything," said CJ. "After the last couple of days, I'll eat anything that isn’t brown, doesn't involve Jell-O, and that you actually have to chew before you swallow."

She laughed again and snuggled closer. After a few minutes of companionable silence, she said, "I've missed this."

"What?" he asked.

"This. Us. Privacy. I mean, the hospital is rather... inhibiting, isn't it? And it's not as though the chairs there were made for two. Not like this sofa. Mind you, this isn't as comfortable as all that. It could do with some better cushions and I swear I can feel a spring here."

There was a certain irony in her observation that CJ couldn't let pass unnoticed. "And your love-seats are comfortable?" he asked, forgetting the promise he'd made to himself only two days before.

"They're not supposed to be comfortable," she answered. "They're supposed to be elegant."

He snorted, but let the subject drop. Instead he said, "Now that we've got all this privacy..."

"Yes?"

"I can think of a couple of things I'd like to do with it."

"Oh?" she asked. "A couple of things, eh? What did you have in mind, exactly?"

"For one thing, I want to test out my powers."

"Oh," she said, and CJ thought he could hear a hint of a pout in that single syllable.

"But first," he said, "I'd like to do this." He shifted beneath her so that he was sitting sideways on the sofa and could look into her eyes. He paused, waiting for her to read the hunger in his own. Then, when he could see it echoed in her expression, he leaned in. She moved to meet him, twining her arms around his neck, mindful of his left arm and shoulder, and running her fingers in his hair.

He coiled his right arm around her waist and let it drift south to rest lightly on her hip.

Her soft lips butterflied across his cheek before meeting his own. He opened his mouth beneath hers, inviting her to deepen the kiss. Her tongue flicked against his bottom lip then entered. He moaned softly as his tongue touched hers.

She withdrew and he moaned again, this time with disappointment. But she wasn't done with him yet. Instead of pulling back completely, she switched her attention back to his bottom lip, sucking on it lightly. She leaned back, her mouth and arms pulling him with her, until they were semi-recumbent against the cushions, and CJ realised that he was going to have to wait a while longer to test out his powers.

He didn't mind in the least.

*****

Much later, as CJ lay with his head against her breast and she fiddled with a strand of his hair, she said, "CJ, you really hate my love seats, don't you?"

"Only when I have to sit on them," he murmured. He smiled, listening to the even beat of her heart beneath his ear.

Time drifted some more, then Lois asked, "How would you feel about coming shopping with me tomorrow?"

"Shopping?"

"Yeah. If we're getting serious here, I think one or other of us had better buy some new furniture. And I'd like you to help me test drive some couches. What do you think?"

"I think I like the way you think, Lois Lane."

*****

They spent an hour towards the end of the afternoon trying to work out precisely which powers CJ still had. As he had determined in the hospital, it appeared that he still had at least some of his powers of flight, along with X-ray vision and a limited amount of superhearing. If he concentrated, he could make out conversations from the couple living two floors down, but he couldn't extend his range much beyond that. He was particularly grateful for that particular limitation because of his lack of invulnerability, superspeed, superbreath and heat vision. He would have hated to be able to hear people screaming for help and lack the ability to go to their aid.

Additionally, he quickly realised that the powers he did still have required a great deal of energy to use; after an hour of experimenting, he felt ready for a rest. Whatever he was – whatever he could now do – he was sure of one thing. He was no Superman, at least, not in the sense that Clark was the Superman of his world. Yes, CJ had powers, but he wasn't powerful.

*****

CJ had a stream of visitors that evening. First came Perry, Jack and even Jimmy. He was surprised but delighted that they had, over the course of the last week or so, come to see him as something more than a faceless member of a despised race – lawyer – and were genuinely concerned about his well-being. After satisfying themselves that he was all right, letting Lois know that, thanks to all the recent Luthor stories, circulation was going through the roof, and the Planet was having to turn advertisers away, they left.

Mayson, armed with a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums, came by soon after. CJ took the flowers from her and tried to look appreciative. He didn't, however, have to fake his appreciation of her efforts on Wednesday night. It had been pure luck that the police presence she'd initiated hadn't actually been needed.

Although Mayson said she wouldn't stay long, she ended up staying for a couple of hours. CJ teased her, saying: "If I'd known that getting shot was what it would take to persuade you to take a break from work, I'd have done it earlier!"

Lois protested. "Don't even joke about it, CJ!" But she laughed anyway.

"Well, if my chief defendant hadn't got himself killed, I probably wouldn't have had the time to come," Mayson said. "But even with him gone there's an awful lot of paperwork to get through. So when are you going to be back at work? I could do with some help."

Mayson shared takeout with them and, over spring rolls, wonton soup, char sui and chicken chow mein, the three of them cemented the foundations of a firm friendship.

After Mayson had gone home, Lois announced that she was going out for a while. When CJ asked where she was going, she smiled at him and said that she wanted to pick some things up from her apartment so that she could stay the weekend. CJ told her to hurry back.

*****

It had been a long day, CJ thought, as he sprawled across the sofa, his eyes closed. All in all, it had been a good one, although tiring. He'd explored the limits of his powers. He'd implied to Lois that they were going to be spending a lot of time together in the future and she hadn't protested. He'd discovered that he had friends here in the city.

Before he'd met the other Lois and Clark, his life had been peopled with colleagues, associates, witnesses and defendants, but very few friends, and certainly none in Metropolis. Now that was changing, and he was happy about that. He was almost as happy about that as he was to have found a lover.

There was a knock on the glass of the apartment's front door. CJ yawned, stretched and stood up. He ambled over to answer it, thinking that he really ought to remember to give Lois a key so that she could come and go as she wanted.

However, it wasn't Lois at the door. Instead, it was a short, dapper Englishman who was clutching a bowler hat in both hands.

*****

"Mr Wells!" exclaimed CJ. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were, my dear boy. I also wanted to congratulate you. I didn't realise you would be quite so successful in your efforts to expose Luthor. Quite a triumph, I must say."

"Thank you," said CJ. Maybe Wells didn't mean it to come out that way, maybe it was just the Englishman's manner, but CJ found Wells' tone rather patronising. "But I can't take all the credit. I had help."

"Yes, of course. Ms Lane."

"And Perry White, Mayson Drake, Jack... And a whole host of other people, too."

Wells looked politely sceptical, as though CJ should be taking credit for their achievements as well as for his own, but didn't comment. Instead, he inclined his head towards CJ's left side, where his arm still rested in a sling. "I trust that your wounds weren't too serious."

"No. Not too serious," said CJ. "Here, come on in. I'd offer you some tea, but the milk's off, I'm afraid."

"That's quite all right," said Wells, following CJ down the steps and into the main living area.

"Please. Have a seat," said CJ, sitting down himself.

Wells looked around, taking in the details of the apartment, before he followed suit. CJ wondered what Wells made of the decor; it certainly wouldn't have been the norm in Wells's own time. Wells's face, however, was inscrutable. If he didn't like it, he was doing a good job of not letting his disapproval show. He would have made a good poker player, CJ decided.

"And how is Ms Lane?" Wells asked. "She was quite distressed when I saw her last."

CJ raised his eyebrows. "I didn't realise she'd met you."

"Oh, yes, indeed. I found her in the hospital last Wednesday night. She was most concerned about you. I believe I managed to allay the worst of her fears, however."

"She didn't mention it," said CJ, wondering why she hadn't, then coming up with a plausible explanation for her omission. "I guess, what with everything else that was going on, it probably just slipped her mind." He inclined his head as something else crossed his mind, then said, "If you were there on Wednesday, why didn't you come earlier? You could have prevented me getting hurt. Stopped Luthor dying... Couldn't you?"

"Perhaps I could have done," said Wells, but he sounded doubtful. "However, I don't like to tamper with time any more than I absolutely have to. It is a frightfully risky endeavour, do you see?"

"But you tampered before, didn't you? When you took me to the other world, I mean."

"Yes, that's true. However, that was a matter of life and death."

"So was this," said CJ. "Okay, so it wasn't my death or Lois's, but Luthor died, didn't he? Or do you think his life didn't count for anything? And what about Pagliano, before that?" Wells seemed not to care that people had died. CJ still couldn't find it in himself to regret Luthor's passing, but Pagliano, although obnoxious, had been an innocent. How could Wells be so blase about everything?

Wells frowned slightly, and CJ got the distinct impression that his jibe had struck a nerve. Why was it, he wondered, that someone who was clearly well-intentioned could also be so irritatingly difficult to like?

Choosing his words carefully, Wells said, "I regret that, of course. However, neither Pagliano's nor Luthor's demises were so critical in determining the future of your world as was your survival."

"In the case of Luthor, at least, that's just not true," argued CJ. "Well, maybe his death wasn't 'critical', exactly, but his downfall was." Wells quirked an interrogative eyebrow, so CJ expanded. "You told me, when I was in the other world, that if I had died on the steps of the courthouse, Luthor's influence would have carried on through the generations. Therefore it wouldn't have been enough just for me to live. Something had to happen to him, too."

"I suppose that there might be a grain of truth in what you are suggesting," admitted Wells, grudgingly.

CJ managed to suppress an irritated snort. He knew that he was right. Wells was too inclined, however, to play at being God to appreciate that his tampering might not always be warranted or just.

Still, thought CJ, what was done was done and, when it came down to it, he didn't really want it undone. Did that make his as bad as Wells? he wondered. He hoped not, and decided to change the subject.

"Mr Wells," he said abruptly, "there's something I have to know."

Wells raised his eyebrows. "Yes, CJ?"

"You've seen our future. And I know that, in the other world, Superman's descendants founded – will found? – Utopia..."

"Yes. That's correct."

"And Lois and I have brought down Luthor..."

"Yes."

"So, since there's no Superman in this dimension, does that mean that there will be no Utopia, or does it mean that someone else will found it?"

"You, Clark 'CJ' Kent, will. Or, rather, your descendants will."

CJ bit on his lower lip and looked thoughtfully at Wells. "You're sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure." The little Englishman sounded vaguely insulted.

"It's just... Mr Wells, there's something else..."

"Go on."

"I don't quite know how to ask this without sounding a little foolish. Does... does my world have any kind of superhero?"

Wells frowned slightly. "Like Lois and Clark's world has Superman, do you mean?"

CJ nodded.

Wells stared at CJ as if trying to see through to his soul, looking for the reasons for the questions. Thoughtfully he said, "My answer matters very much to you, doesn't it?"

CJ didn't answer, just waited for Wells to give him the information that he so desperately wanted.

Finally Wells said, "No. Your world doesn't have anything quite like Superman."

"But it has something, right?"

"Something... yes. There are a few costumed vigilantes, mostly working out of New York and furnished with the most ridiculous names. For some reason, vigilantism has never really taken off in Metropolis, nor will it do so in the future, although..." Wells pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "There is something, but most historians consider the Eidolon to be a myth."

"The... Eidolon?" queried CJ, trying out the unfamiliar word. "What's an Eidolon?"

"Dictionaries give the word two meanings, I believe. The first would be something akin to a wraith or a ghost. The second is that of an ideal or idealised figure."

"Eidolon..." whispered CJ again. "And what does... did... this Eidolon do?"

Wells frowned thoughtfully. "That's a trifle difficult to determine. As I've said, most historians dismiss him as a cultural artefact, not someone real at all. If one were to believe the more lurid of the early twenty-first century popular media then the Eidolon was a cross between an investigator, a guardian angel and a creature of the night. Certainly, there are elements of the supernatural in his activities; he seems to have been able to gain entry into locked rooms, to have unearthed information from inaccessible places."

"But he did nothing that Clark couldn't do, right?"

"No. I suppose not. But you're not Clark, and you can't do those things. Can you?"

"What if," CJ said, "I told you that I could fly? Oh, not nearly as far or as fast as Clark, but fly, nonetheless. And I still have my X-ray vision and some superhearing."

"You... But that's not possible. The superpowers come from the sun and this sun—"

CJ cut through Wells' scepticism with an intense enthusiasm. "Some of them, yes. I imagine that is why my invulnerability and superspeed have faded since I've come home. But the others..." CJ stood up again and began pacing, speaking fast and furiously, emphasising his words with his free hand. "Lois – the other world's Lois, I mean – told me that no-one knew for sure how Superman's powers worked. The solar battery theory is just that – a theory. But what if that's not the only source of Clark's powers? What if some of it is psychic, too? We know that Clark has telepathic powers. So, why not the rest? Why not some weird form of telekinesis? That could explain how he flies. And remote viewing... that explains the vision powers and, maybe, the hearing." He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wells. "What do you think?"

"I think it's... incredible. You really can do all these things?"

"Yes." CJ nodded firmly. "I'm not strong or fast enough to do the kind of rescue work that Clark does. And, since I'm not invulnerable, I can't say I'm too keen on the idea of parading around in a gaudy suit with a big red S right over my heart, but this Eidolon... Could he be... me?"

Wells stared at CJ, as though the thought had never before crossed his mind. "Yes," he said. "It's quite possible. Indeed, dare I say it, from what you've told me, I would venture to say that it is highly probable. After all, I had not come across any mention of the Eidolon prior to your return from the other world. I'd assumed that was merely an oversight on my part. But if you have changed history... And, in many ways, even though there was no real proof of his existence, the Eidolon did for many provide the symbol of hope that they were seeking."

Appalled CJ said, "You make it sound like he became some kind of religious figure! No proof of existence... Relying entirely on faith..."

Wells smiled. "No, no, my boy."

"Good, because I'm not a god!"

"I know that." Wells tilted his head to one side and thought for a moment. "I suppose you could think of the Eidolon more as a... Scarlet Pimpernel figure. Or Robin Hood. Or even... Batman. In all those stories, the heroes are men. Many discount their existence, but they are generally seen in a positive light. It won't matter that many will dispute the Eidolon's existence: it is his values that count. Sometimes humans draw hope from the most unlikely sources; a folk myth is no stranger than many or, dare I say, most."

There was another rap on the door. "That'll be Lois," said CJ, moving over to answer.

"And it really is time that I was going," said Wells, getting up and following.

CJ opened the door. Wells and Lois exchanged quick hellos, then Wells took his leave, letting another "Congratulations" hang in the air.

"What did he want?" asked Lois, after Wells had gone.

CJ smiled. "Come and sit down, and I'll tell you," he said.

*****

"I wonder how it happens," said CJ later on. "The creation of Utopia, I mean."

"Let's see..." Lois, who was nestled against his side again, stroked her chin thoughtfully then began to paint fantasies. "Maybe you'll become a great philanthropist. Or a respected judge. Or maybe a... politician?"

"Politician?! Oh, no. No way!"

"You say that now," she chided him playfully, "but in twenty years you'll feel differently. You'll become one of this country's most beloved presidents."

CJ snorted. "Now I know you're lying. I wasn't born here, remember?"

Lois shrugged, as though that was a trifling detail. "No one else knows that, though, do they? So what's to stop you?"

"I'll know."

"Oh, very well... Then... Maybe you'll become president of the UN, a post you will hold – with distinction – for many years." Tiring abruptly of the game, Lois exclaimed, "Oh, CJ! Who cares how it happens. All that matters is that there's a wonderful future to look forward to. Isn't it enough to know that?"

"And this coming from the woman who was frightened of us getting together, in case it had been preordained!" teased CJ.

"Yes, well..." said Lois. "I'm over that now, as well you know."

CJ laughed. "I know. Anyway, Utopia mightn't be anything do with me. After all, my descendants will be your descendants, too, so maybe you'll be the driving force behind this Utopia. Or maybe it'll be nothing to do with us at all beyond the provision of a few genes. Maybe it'll be our son—"

"Or daughter."

"Or granddaughter—"

"Or grandson."

"—who'll do whatever it takes to found Utopia. After all, Wells did say that it would be founded by Clark Kent's descendants, didn't he?"

"Yes," said Lois with a smile, "he did. But, CJ, while it's fun to guess, I don't think I actually want to know what'll happen to us in the future. There have to be some surprises to keep things interesting. I think it's enough to know that we're together and – broadly speaking – everything will turn out okay. There is one thing though..."

"Yes?" said CJ.

"If we're going to found a dynasty..."

"Yes?" prompted CJ again.

"Oughtn't you make an honest woman of me first?"

CJ threw back his head and laughed but sobered quickly. His brown eyes stared searchingly into hers. Awed and amazed, he said, "Lois Lane, did you just ask me to marry you?"

She'd been joking – teasing. And yet... Now that the idea had slipped out into the open, the idea of marriage seemed so right somehow. She hadn't meant to ask him to marry him, but... "I... I did ask you, didn't I?" she said. "Not quite how I imagined us deciding to get married. I mean, I had more in mind that you would get down on one knee and propose, but..."

"Would you like me to do that? I mean, I haven't actually said yes, yet, so it's not too late."

"Well, it would be kind of romantic..."

"Okay, then. Let's do this properly." CJ pulled one of Mayson's chrysanthemums out of a vase, got down on one knee, and held it out to her. Then he said, "Lois Lane, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Of course I will, CJ. I love you, you know."

"And I you. For always and forever."

"For always and forever," echoed Lois. "I like the sound of that." She took the flower from him, sniffed it, then returned it to the vase, by which time CJ had got back to his feet and was standing, beckoning her into his embrace.

She willingly entered his arms and tilted her head up towards his. She felt the warmth of his right hand through the cotton of her blouse as he laid it against the curve of her waist. He leaned his head down to meet hers, the soft skin of his lips lightly brushing against her own before settling more firmly against her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him closer towards her. She could feel the planes of his muscles beneath her palms and his solid torso crushing against the length of her upper body. She felt a fluttering in her stomach and a tingle down in her toes as he gently sucked on her lower lip and began to explore with his tongue. She opened her mouth to him and she felt him surrounding, encompassing and blending with her. Her last coherent thoughts were that she had a lifetime of love to look forward to with this man and that life couldn't get more perfect than this.


END


Author's endnote: If you have read this story all the way through, rather than belatedly popping in to see whether this epic has a happy ending, I want to thank you for sticking with it. I congratulate you on your perseverence! (If you have just popped in, I hope you think that the ending is happy enough to warrant reading the whole thing, either now, or when it eventually gets to the archive.)

I've had some very faithful readers on the mbs; I am truly grateful to you all for your comments, cheerleading, suggestions and praise. (Now is your chance to run to the comments folder and tell me how much you hate the ending!)

There have been, over the last few years – yes, years – a number of people whose... persistent... encouragement have helped me get to this moment. So, to all the people on IRC (you know who you are), Maria for her wonderful lists (and who actually declared EMII dead at one point), the occasional emailer and assorted others, I wish to offer a cyber-toast. Without you guys, I think this story would still be wallowing unfinished on my hard-drive. Thank you for the gentle nudges, the savage waving of shears, and for ensuring that I could never quite give up.

Finally, but most importantly, I want to reiterate my heartfelt thanks to my beta-readers. First and foremost, thanks go to Jenni, who beta-read the entire monster for me. Other people have read sections, some so long ago they may have even forgotten about it! So thanks also to: Wendy, Helene, Kaylle, Anne and Pebbles. Apologies for anyone else I have inadvertently left out (it has been a long time for me, too).