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

Where we left off in Part 71 …

The elevator dinged much too soon for either his or Lois’s tastes. Clark was able to extract himself from her arms with a murmured, “Let’s get out of here.”

Lois grabbed hold of his hand again and dragged him through the lobby and through the doors to the street at breakneck speed. At the corner, she whistled and instantly a cab stopped.

“You don’t want to walk there, Lois?” Clark suggested, somewhat breathlessly. “It’s such a nice day.”

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “One kiss, and I cannot stop, Clark.”

He knew that feeling.

Lois batted her eyelashes. “Humor me.”

“We’re moving so fast, Lois. Maybe we should slow down a bit,” he said.

“Fast? Please, Chuck,” she said wryly, pulling him into the cab after her. “It’s been two months between each of our kisses. We can’t move any slower.”

She did have a point there.

“Each time we kiss, you wake up regretting it and push me away. I can’t face any more rejection,” Clark reminded her.

“That won’t happen this time, Clark. I’m ready to tell you…” She turned away from Clark and said to the driver. “Take us once around Centennial Park and then head to Clinton Ave. You’ll get a bigger tip, if you don’t get us there in a hurry.”

The driver grinned in response, slowly turning back out onto the street.

Clark stared at her. Tell me what?

Before he could ask that very question, Lois draped her legs over his and wrapped her arms around his neck again. “I love you, Clark,” she whispered, gently kissing his lips. “Wow! That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I love you. I love you. I love you.” Each time she repeated it, the phrase came with another kiss.

His jaw dropped open in blissful surprise. She loved him? Loved loved, like he loved her? His heart soared with pleasure. Lois didn’t hesitate in taking advantage of Clark’s open mouth to deepen their kiss and pull him against her. He had to admit, she was doing a pretty thorough job of convincing him that her words were true.

The windows of the cab started to fog and the cabbie cracked them open. All of Clark’s good intentions, promises, and nobility flew straight out the window.

***

Part 72

The restaurant was everything that Lois had expected: dark and cave-like with romantic booths lit by candles on the tables.

From the first moment that Clark had sat down at his desk, after returning from conducting his interviews, Lois hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him. As she’d watched her adorable Clark, who looked extra sexy today, typing away on his article, she just decided, “Go for it, Lane! Tell him how you feel.”

Lois hadn’t wanted him to be out of her sight. It was agony having to wait those whole five minutes for Clark to finish writing his article. She knew Clark was interested in her. She had never seen a man work so fast to complete a story just to spend time with her.

When Ralph had come over to her desk, not only had she gotten a flash of that horrible, horrible nightmare where Ralph had attacked her, but the bastard had blocked her view of Clark, and said those nasty things to her. She quickly disposed of him, and then she could see her handsome Clark again, which made her feel much better.

Then, after her and Clark’s delightful, and entirely too short, cab-ride to the restaurant, Clark insisted on going to the washroom to wash up. Lois had followed him. If they were going to feed each other, as they had that night at his apartment, clean hands were certainly a must. In addition, the trip to the restroom had allowed Lois to fix her make-up and hair. She couldn’t believe how messed up it had gotten during their cab-ride. Once in the back of the cab, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. Clark, her sweetie po-tootie, hadn’t said a word about her messy hair. She sighed, loving him even more.

Lois couldn’t stop touching Clark; why would she want to? When she returned to the table from the restroom and saw Clark, sitting there reading the menu, she just had to kiss him to let him know how much she had missed him.

For some reason, though Clark clearly liked kissing her as much as she loved kissing him, he seemed to think she was being excessively affectionate, as if their love could ever be such a thing. Clark must have been teasing her, the silly man.

“You’re so funny, Chuck,” Lois said, tapping him on his nose. “I love you.”

His face turned so serious, it almost scared her. Would he try to hurt her like Paul, Claude, and Superman had? Instead, Clark ran his hand through her hair and whispered, “I love you, too, Lois.”

She should have known better. Clark would never hurt her. He could never hurt her. Well, he had, but that hadn’t been intentional. He was the most wonderful man ever. He was even better than Superman was. She exhaled. Too bad Clark couldn’t fly, but he loved her, really, really loved her. He didn’t just say he loved her and have them only be words, which he didn’t mean, like that other man who flew. When Clark said he loved her, he meant it. They would be together forever, she just knew it.

Lois leaned her head against his shoulder in contented bliss.

“I’m a little surprised, Lois,” Clark murmured, kissing her cheek. “I thought that you’d never forgive me. I wanted you to, of course. I’m so sorry I ever hurt you, I never meant to.”

“I know, Clark, I trust you. I tried not to, but it just didn’t work. You’re just so wonderful, so kind, and thoughtful. You treat me better than any man ever has. I missed you, so much. I didn’t want to be angry at you, I just was,” Lois admitted, and then pointed at him, shaking her finger. “No more lying to me, Clark. Clarkie. Clarkerino.” His name sounded funny on her tongue. “No, that won’t do. I need something more loving to call you, something special just for you.” She danced her fingers down his chest. She couldn’t wait until after lunch when she could finally get him alone again.

He laughed, taking hold of her hand. “I’ve been working for months to find an endearment for you, but nothing fits. I must admit that I like it when you call me ‘Chuck’. Nobody else could make that wrong name sound so wonderful.”

“I know. Nicknames just don’t work on me. You’ll come up with something; I know you will. Nobody is as smart as you,” she said, which strangely enough made his brow furrow.

Why didn’t Clark like it when she complimented him? She hated making him sad. She felt so happy she could float off the ground, so why didn’t he? He had been so sad lately; she wanted him to be happy too.

“Well, except me, of course,” she went on with a grin to let him know she had been teasing, and he laughed again. Mission accomplished!

Lois chose penne in Alfredo sauce. Clark had ravioli in marinara sauce. At least her choice of sauce didn’t stain. Perhaps they should’ve taken their lunch to-go.

The food was so-so, not anywhere near as good as she remembered Clark’s pasta being from their ‘passionate pasta night’, but how could it be? Clark was from Italy. He grew up with an Italian mother. Of course, his pasta would be better. It was in his genes. Anyway, she had picked the restaurant for its atmosphere and location. It was just down the street from Clark’s apartment. They could always eat again later. Maybe Clark would cook for her. She loved it when Clark cooked for her.

“Do you remember that night at your apartment, Clark?” Lois asked, taking a bite of her pasta. It wasn’t anywhere near as much fun as eating it with her fingers would have been.

“Distinctly,” Clark said with a grin. She saw a naughty glint in his eye. It made her body shiver with anticipation.

Lois hadn’t been able to forget it. She had wanted him since that night, since before that night, and for every night since that night. She had been dreaming again, recently, what could have been if they had made love that night. She moaned.

“That good, huh?” Clark asked, picking at his food more than eating it.

“Not as good as the pasta you made,” she murmured.

“Ah, but that was made with love,” he replied with a wink.

Lois leaned over and kissed him. “There’s something else you can make… love,” she whispered and bounced her eyebrows.

Clark choked on his ravioli and needed to take a sip of water to clear his throat. “What are you saying, Lois?”

“You know.” She kept her voice low and set her hand on his leg. “I want you, Clark.”

His eyes popped out of his face. How could he be so surprised? He must have realized by now what he did to her.

“I want you too, Lois, but don’t you think we’re moving too quickly?” he said.

“Again with that word, my darling. Didn’t you promise to make love to me months ago?” Lois tossed back to him. “I don’t find this quick in the least.”

“Yes, Lois, but at the time you were angry and hurt. You needed time to heal,” Clark defended his choice. He shook his head as confusion. “‘My darling’?”

“Haven’t I healed?” she asked, batting her eyelashes rapidly in a way she knew all men liked.

“Yes, but I’m not one to make love, just because I’m physically able.”

Was Clark rejecting her? “Do you doubt that I love you, Clark?” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“No, of course, Lois…” he reassured her.

She interrupted him to continue her argument. “Clark, didn’t we almost make love in the storeroom at the Metro Club?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“But, what, Clark? We were interrupted; otherwise we’d already be lovers now.” She wiped her hands on her napkin and wrapped her arms around his neck again. She leisurely kissed his lips. “I love you, Clark, body and soul. I want to share our bodies, and until we do, I won’t feel like you trust me, or truly love me.”

“Really?” he said.

She could hear the skepticism in his voice. He didn’t believe her! True, other men had loved her physically without loving her, but Clark was different. She knew he was. With him, making love would show him he could trust her with the truth, because she trusted him.

“Are you sure you feel all right, Lois?” Clark asked.

“Never better! You don’t know how much I have dreamed of this, Chuck,” she whispered into his ear.

“As have I, Lois, which is why I feel like we should slow down. We have all the time in the world. There’s no reason to rush,” he reminded her.

Lois nibbled on his ear. “My body aches for you, Clark,” she murmured, before kissing across his cheek to his mouth.

“Let’s just enjoy each other’s company for now, Lois, and eat our lunch,” Clark said, taking another bite of his food, yet she saw with delight that his fork was shaking. “This isn’t the time or place for more.”

“Please, don’t make me beg,” she murmured, running her hands down his hard chest until she reached his hips. “Or is that what you want? Me, on my knees, in front of you?” It wasn’t really her style, but this was Clark, her love, her true love, the man she adored. She shrugged her acquiescence.

Clark grabbed her hands and held them in both of his. “What has gotten into you, Lois? Of course, that’s not what I want… well… No! Lois, you are being more forward than Cat has ever been. That isn’t like you.”

“But you and Cat were never in a relationship, right? Never had sex, right?” Lois said, her lips pouting. Had he lied to her about that too? “Right?”

“I love you, and only you,” he said, kissing one of her hands, then the other, and not answering her question at all. “I have never had that kind of relationship with Cat nor have I wanted it.”

That was better. Lois relaxed. She knew Clark wouldn’t cheat on her. Of course, he wouldn’t. His life depended on him being faithful.

“All I’m saying is, we should let nature takes it course. We’ll get there when we get there, okay?” he continued. “I’m happy with what I have, Lois, with this.”

He kissed her hand again, and then scooted closer to kiss her cheek. It was all very romantic, and she whole-heartedly approved.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not ready for or comfortable with. I promise you that. Just because we say ‘I love you’ doesn’t mean I expect us to jump into bed right away; that’s not who we are. I want to prove to you that our relationship means more to me than our sexual attraction.” He brushed her hair out of her face in that way that Superman always did. She liked it better when Clark did it. “I need to prove to you, first, that I’m not like other men.”

Lois sat up and grinned at him, happily eating her food once more. “Okay, handsome. As long as I know you want me, I can wait until you’re ready.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and then shook his head. For a moment there, she had thought he had exhaled in relief.

***

Lois pushed Clark against the front door of his apartment, kissing him again.

“Don’t you think we should head back to the office?” he suggested.

“We’re here already, Chuck. Why not take advantage of being at your apartment?” Lois replied.

“Take advantage?” he echoed, fearing he knew what she meant.

“To drop off our doggie bags from the restaurant, silly,” she said with a grin. She bit her bottom lip again and stared into his eyes with an expression, to which he held no resistance. He cupped her jaw in his hand and kissed her.

“Right, doggie bags,” he said, not fully believing this plausible excuse, as he came up for air. So what, if they never made it back to the newsroom that afternoon. He had turned in his article. Knowing Lois, she had too. Why shouldn’t they play hooky for an afternoon? Where would be the harm in making out with the woman he loved? He pulled his keys out of his pocket.

He knew where the harm lay. It lay in him dying a thousand deaths when he discovered that it didn’t matter what Carlos wanted. If Clark could save Lois’s true Clark, Clark would have to say goodbye to Lois forever, and that was where the harm lay. It was that one little pesky uncertainty, which had him reminding Lois that it would be better if they waited before they made love.

She nibbled on his ear as he tried to unlock the door. She was making it darn near impossible to hold onto that last little promise, which he had made to himself… well, second to last promise. She still didn’t know that Clark Kent also flew around Metropolis as Superman.

“I still don’t know why you wanted doggie bags, Lois, when the food wasn’t that great,” he continued on, pushing open his door.

“Because, Chuck,” Lois said, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside. “We needed a good reason to come back to your apartment.”

Oh, yeah. He was a dead man. Yep-er-oony.

They stumbled down the stairs leading into his living room and fell onto his couch with Lois underneath him. He used a tiny bit of levitation to slow their descent. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her.

Toast.

“Mmmmm,” Lois moaned. “This is much better, don’t you think?”

Charred toast.

“I should put these leftovers into the fridge,” Clark recommended, trying to extricate himself from Lois’s embrace so he could breathe again.

“Hurry back!” she called.

He heard one ka-thunk, and then a second. Glancing at her from over the fridge door, he saw that she had kicked off her heels. Oh, good, she was getting comfortable. He needed to get comfortable too.

Clark shut the refrigerator door. “Um… I’ve got to…” he said, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder towards his bathroom. He held up an index finger. “I’ll be right back.”

Once securely inside his bathroom with the door locked, he started to pace. It was a lousy place to pace. He could cross the floor in three steps, and it was too small to walk up the wall.

Lois clearly wanted to make love to him. Maybe not today, he deluded himself into believing, but soon. At the very least, she would want to make out some more that afternoon. Four months ago, he would have been dancing with joy to be at this point in their relationship. He was okay with making out, but he didn’t think he could make love to Lois, only to end up saying goodbye to her and giving her back to her rightful Clark.

Didn’t think – Ha! That was understating his situation to the nth degree. Clark knew, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn’t make love to Lois and then leave her, ever. He knew this to be fact. Therefore, he needed to make sure that there was no possible way that they could make love, not until he knew what Herb had found out about her true Clark.

What could he do?

What could he do?

What could he do?

Damn, Clark hated planning.

First of all, he decided he should take this one day at a time. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He probably was blowing this problem way out of proportion, and it wouldn’t even be an issue. After an afternoon of making out with him, which Clark would sacrifice for the good of the cause, Lois would calm down, right? She would know that Clark wasn’t going to dump her, so she would stop freaking out, and they could return to dating as normal. Right? Therefore, he only needed to make it through the afternoon.

Clark could do this. He could, somehow, not move their relationship any further forward for one afternoon, right?

He could tell her he was Superman; that might work. He had planned on telling her before Herb returned anyway and Clark had to say goodbye, so there was that plan. Maybe he should take off his uniform though, just in case. Not that they would progress far enough for her to take off his clothes, but just in case… because he’d hate Lois to discover that he was Superman by trying to get into Clark’s pants. Of course, with the way she was acting, he doubted it would make her angry enough to turn off her hormones.

Clark’s brow furrowed. Yeah, Lois is behaving a bit strange, he thought as he spun out of his business suit. He didn’t know if she had drunk something funny, if she was just nervous, or if months of unsatisfied desire had finally come to a head. He had experienced moments like that recently, days when he wondered if Superman would be the cause of the polar ice caps melting.

He looked down at his uniform before spinning out of it and back into his shirt and pants. Perhaps in-a-relationship Lois was much more affectionate than just-friends Lois. Regular Lois was fairly touchy-feely as well, he reminded himself as he tossed his uniform into the dirty clothes hamper. On second thought, he buried it at the bottom of the basket. He hung his jacket and tie on the hook on the back of the bathroom door.

He recalled how Lois had held him after he was unable to save all the kids in the double school bus accident outside that high school basketball game in Milwaukee earlier in the month… actually, it was last month now. True, by the time Clark had heard of it, the accident had already occurred and those who had died had done so before he had arrived on the scene. Still, Lois had comforted him.

No. Lois had held Superman.

He dropped his head into his hands. Telling Lois that he was Superman might slow her ardor a bit, but there was a slim chance that, after she yelled at him and asked him a hundred and one questions, she would want to jump his bones more than before he told her. It was a slim margin, but still a margin. At least, it would slow her down, temporarily. Clark knew he couldn’t count on his willpower; it had already proven useless today.

Clark only wished he knew how long it would be before Herb returned. H.G. Wells had dropped him off on May 16, or thereabouts. Then Herb had returned in mid-August, and finally in mid-November, shortly before Thanksgiving. It was now February 2. There were two weeks until Valentine’s Day and mid-February. Two whole weeks? Clark’s shoulders fell in defeat. If Lois continued in this manner, he wasn’t sure he could make it another two whole hours, let alone two weeks.

He took another deep breath. One day at a time, he reminded himself. One hour at a time.

If his plan to tell Lois he was Superman failed to cool her ardor, what else could he do?

Surrender, and deal with the consequences later?

No, no, no! He couldn’t surrender this last shred of dignity that he had remaining. Well, he could, and easily at that, but he shouldn’t.

He stopped pacing as an idea popped into his head. It was just another delaying tactic, but at this moment, he could take what he could get. He opened his medicine cabinet and removed the still to be opened box of condoms he had bought on the way home from the Metro Club that night so many months ago. He shut his eyes and shook his head. Lois was right. They weren’t moving all that fast.

Clark lifted up his glasses and gazed out into his apartment. Lois had moved from the couch to his bed. She had lowered his blinds and plugged in his lava lamp, setting it on the nightstand next to his bed. No, Lois isn’t moving fast at all, he thought wryly.

If Clark didn’t get out there soon, she would be naked in his bed and… well… that might be a little too much for his willpower.

He looked back down at that box in his hand. If he scorched it, Lois would be able to smell the smoke. He blew his icy cold breath, freezing the box and its contents as if he had dropped it into a container of liquid nitrogen. Then he simply clapped his hands together, turning it to frozen dust particles. He rinsed his hands in the sink and opened the door to his bedroom.

**************
Valentine’s Day
**************

Herb Wells stepped out of the elevator and onto the newsroom floor. It was business as usual here at the Daily Planet. No holiday decorations had been hung. No paper doily hearts or streamers pinned up. There was a bouquet of red roses on Lois’s desk, but other than that, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary.

He walked down the ramp and into the bullpen. He didn’t see Lois or Clark anywhere. Oh, dear. He hoped Clark wasn’t out on a stakeout or an assignment. Didn’t he recall that Herb would be returning for him around this time?

The elevator dinged, and Jimmy Olsen and Cat Grant exited. They were laughing. Cat shook her head and rice fell to the ground. She reached over and brushed some out of Jimmy’s hair as well. They both laughed again. Strange, Herb had never known a universe where those two were close friends before.

“Pardon me,” Herb said, taking off his hat and holding it in both hands. “I’m looking for Clark Kent. Do you know where I might be able to reach him?”

“The Lexor Hotel,” Cat answered.

“Pardon?” Herb stammered. What was he doing there?

“CK won’t be in today,” Jimmy announced. “He got married this morning.”

“About time too. If those two weren’t going to lock themselves in a room with a bed, I was going to do it for them,” Cat said, and grinned at Jimmy.

“Married?” Herb gasped.

Clark had said he would wait until Herb returned before starting to woo Lois again. Herb had been under the impression that Clark wanted to do right by this universe’s Clark. What had happened?

Cat and Jimmy exchanged another expression, with which Herb wasn’t familiar.

“Sure did. We just left them at the Lexor honeymoon suite, not a half hour ago,” Cat said, elbowing Jimmy. “I needed to show them how all the amenities worked.” She winked at Herb. “I’ve been checked in there once or twice myself.”

She was certainly the equivalent to the Cat Grant of his universe, from all that Herb had learned of her.

Herb cleared his throat. “This seems all rather sudden,” he said. “When I saw Clark three months ago, he mentioned their relationship as being on a hiatus.”

“Well, if I had to guess, I would say it had to do with a bit of Revenge that they were both exposed to a couple of weeks ago,” Jimmy said with a peal of laughter. “It didn’t do me any good…”

“I wasn’t even affected,” Cat said with a heavy sigh.

“But Lois and CK…” Jimmy whistled. “They couldn’t keep their hands off one another. It was inevitable.” He looked at Cat and they shared another grin.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear,” Herb said, pulling out his pocket watch. “Half hour ago, did you say?”

“Thereabouts,” Cat answered. “Is there something we can help you with? I’m sure Lois and Clark won’t be making it into the office until at least tomorrow.”

“If I don’t hurry, I’m sure neither Lois nor Clark will be coming to work ever again,” Herb said, rushing towards the elevator, before stopping and turning back to the two reporters. They seemed to be giggling over his very serious statement. “This ‘Revenge’ drug. When were they first exposed to it again?”

“Beginning of the month,” Cat said, and thought for a moment. “Wednesday, February third, that was the day of the perfume photo shoot, wasn’t it, Jimmy?”

Jimmy shrugged.

“Perfume?” Herb said, baffled.

“Yes, Revenge is the name of a pheromone based perfume. It makes people horny in love,” Jimmy clarified. “It was sprayed all over the newsroom. There’s a reason none of us are celebrating Valentine’s Day today. Well…” He winked at Cat. “Other than our newlyweds.”

Herb’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear. Well, that explains it. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“I wouldn’t disturb them, if I were you,” Cat called to him. “You know what honeymooners are like.”

“Yes, that’s what worries me,” Herb mumbled, his foot tapping as he waited for the elevator to empty.

From behind him Herb heard Jimmy tell Cat, “CK’s going to kill us,” before they burst into laughter again.

***

Upon returning to his time machine, Herb discovered that February 3, 1994 was a Thursday, not a Wednesday. He decided to check first with February 3 and see if he could intervene soon enough to stop this tragedy. He had already interrupted one honeymoon with this news. It was best if he delivered it earlier this time. He was sure Clark would thank him before he said, “I do.”

***

Thursday, February 3, 1994

Once again, Herb stepped into the newsroom from the elevator. The change from the Valentine’s Day he had just come from was drastic. Streamers, paper doily hearts, roses were everywhere. Teddy bears on every desk, rose peddles littering the floor, and bouquets of pink, white, and red balloons filled the newsroom. It was as if love had exploded here. He heard a pop of a champagne cork, and double-checked his pocket watch, 10:15 a.m. Jimmy Olsen hadn’t been joking about the perfume’s effect.

Herb picked up a copy of that morning’s Daily Planet off a table. Couple Reunited! Love Wins Out!

Oh, dear. It was as bad as Jimmy Olsen had informed him it would be. Where was Clark? He saw the young photographer sitting at his desk, mooning over some black and white photographs of a pretty, young lady.

“Pardon me, but could you tell me where I might find Clark Kent or Lois Lane?” Herb asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “They didn’t come in this morning. CK called and said they would be out on something all day.” He lifted up one of the photos. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Yes, quite. I’m sure you’ll be very happy. Pardon me,” Herb said, hurrying back to the elevators.

Lois and Clark must be at one of their apartments. He decided to check Ms. Lane’s apartment first.

***

Forty-five minutes later, Herb walked up the final flight of steps to Clark’s apartment. No one had answered at Ms. Lane’s apartment. Herb knew Clark must have waited to consummate their relationship until after marriage, as the Clark from his universe had, since they were still both alive and well enough to marry on the fourteenth. He needed to warn Clark that they could not get married, under any circumstances. If Clark had already made the decision to marry Lois, let alone already asked Lois to be his wife, Herb knew his news would be doubly painful. Herb needed to talk to him before Clark had reached that turning point. He needed to contact him before Clark had any restored hopes of staying in this universe.

Herb knocked on the door to the apartment and waited, and waited, and waited. Clark never came to the door. Herb unfolded the Daily Planet with its red heart shaped “a’s”. It was possible that Herb was already too late. He would need to go back in time another day to try to reach Clark before he and Lois had been exposed too long to the perfume, and each other. Clark’s health and wellbeing depended on it, as did Lois’s.

****************
Revenge, Revisited
****************

Wednesday, February 2, 1994

“Lois,” Clark inquired, moving from the bathroom to his bedroom window. “Why did you close the blinds?” He pulled the cord to open the curtain, letting in that strengthening sunlight, and then went into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? I feel like some coffee. Would you like some coffee?”

“How about some wine?” Lois called from his bedroom, not having followed him as he had hoped. “Or champagne! I feel like celebrating.”

Always good to hear from the woman one loves, Clark thought. His resolved faltered.

What if her newfound giddiness didn’t have anything to do with him? What if it had to do with a memory of her true Clark? That thought was like refreshing ice water on his resolve. He sighed. And on his libido.

“Sorry, no champagne, Lois,” he said. “Coffee? Or I could make some tea?”

Lois appeared under his archway, and leaned seductively against it. “Actually, I’m not very thirsty.”

“I’m thirsty. I’m going to make some coffee. Why don’t you sit on the couch, and I’ll join you there in a minute?” he said, searching his cabinets for coffee filters. Normally, he made heat vision espresso, but that wasn’t how he wanted to reveal himself to Lois.

“How about you join me in the bedroom, instead?” Lois countered.

The mug, which he was pulling from the shelf, fumbled in his hand and crashed to the floor. Clark placed a hand to his head and exhaled, before retrieving his broom and dustpan.

“Clark, you seem a bit nervous,” she observed.

He smiled at her, hopefully in a reassuring manner.

She left the archway and moved towards him.

“Wait!” he said, holding up his hand. “I don’t want you to step on broken ceramic.”

Lois stopped at his dining room table and watched him finish. He dumped the pieces in the trash and turned on the coffee maker.

“Clark,” Lois said, joining him in the kitchen and surrounding his waist with her arms in a most welcome manner. “Is this… Have you ever made love before?”

Clark blushed at her assumption and directness, and enveloped her with his arms, kissing the top of her head. “No… well, yes… but, no.”

She gazed up at him with her big doe eyes and waited for him to explain, uncharacteristically patient.

“Have I ever had sex? Yes,” he said, unable to say more because she moved her arms to around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He tried to remember why he wasn’t making love to her at this very moment, but for some reason his mind failed him.

She withdrew her arms. He opened his eyes to find out why, and saw her pushing herself up on the counter. She spread open her legs and pulled him between them, before taking him into her arms again. Clark had to admit he wasn’t adverse to this position. She licked his lips, and he hungrily deepened the kiss, their tongues caressing one another.

A thought flitted across his mind, something about stalling Lois, but he couldn’t find the motivation to stay away. Her hand snaked down to his chest and started to unbutton his shirt. His hands instinctively moved to hers and stilled them, as he remembered that they still had things to discuss.

“I have had sex,” he clarified, resting his forehead against hers. “But never with you. Therefore, I’ve never made love.”

She grinned, clearly liking his words. “Is that why you’re so nervous?”

“A bit,” he admitted. “And why I don’t want to rush things. I want our first time to be…” He searched for the right word. There were too many from which to choose.

“Perfect?” Lois asked. She cupped his jaw in her hands. “It will be, Chuck. How could it not be when we will be joining our hearts and souls into one?”

Clark had to acknowledge her argument was pretty darn convincing.

She hooked her ankles behind him and squeezed as she continued to kiss him.

Very convincing arguments indeed.

“We need to talk, Lois,” he said between kisses.

“Goody! I have so much to say,” she said, not stopping her kisses or speaking another word.

Before he realized it was happening Lois flung open his shirt and began to kiss down his neck to his chest. He had never had anyone touch him quite like that before, caress his body with love and attention. It had always been him giving the attention to the woman’s chest. This was a pleasant development. Making love with Lois would be the most sensual experience of his life.

Lois’s ragged breath danced across his skin as she kissed back up to his ear. “Take me to bed, Chuck,” she moaned.

Something in his brain nagged him as he lifted her off the counter and into his arms. He was supposed to do something. Coffee?

Right! Delay. Delay. Delay! Tell Lois the truth. As her legs squeezed him tighter and she nibbled down his throat, he realized he didn’t want to delay, but he needed to tell her about Superman. How much better would making love to Lois be if he didn’t have to try to hide that side of himself? That in itself was worth chancing her ire, if afterwards he would be able to make love as himself.

Instead of carrying Lois to his bed, he took her to his couch. “I need to tell you something, Lois,” he said, moving her off his lap, so he could concentrate better.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good. Is it something that will upset me?” she asked, her fingers reaching for his chest again as her eyes searched his. “Yes, I think it will. No, Chuck. I don’t think I want to know.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“You’ve got this tone to your voice. You know when people are uncomfortable, like when they want to borrow your car, or money, or your clothes. This thing you need to say will upset me and kill this feeling of happiness, won’t it? Well, I don’t want to know. I am so happy right now. I love you so much,” Lois said, sliding back onto his lap. “Make love to me first, and then tell me.”

“Lois?” he sputtered. He wasn’t so sure now.

She giggled. “Well, of course, I am! Who else would I be?”

He shrugged in confusion. He had no idea. She had Lois’s scent, Lois’s heartbeat, and kissing her made him deliriously dizzy with happiness, unlike kissing anyone else had ever done. All the signs pointed to her being Lois Lane, his partner, his soul mate, and the woman he loved with entire heart. Still…

Lois took hold of his jaw and focused her gaze on his. “I always become angry whenever you keep something from me or lie, and I don’t want to be mad. I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want to make you sad. I love that you want to share the truth with me and, for now, that is enough. I’m telling you that whatever your secret might be, I love you so much, nothing could make me stop loving you,” she said, running her hands down his chest and kissing him. “And right now, I don’t want to talk; I just want to kiss you.”

Clark’s heart burst with ecstasy.

Nothing could make me stop loving you.

He wasn’t sure how to argue against that logic, but he needed to tell Lois the truth first. “Lois…”

She lifted up his hand, stuck his finger in her mouth and began sucking on it.

“Lois, please,” he moaned, his resolve weakening, his brain turning to mush, and his body to steel. He wanted so much for this Lois to be his, but he knew she rightfully belonged to her true Clark, and barring that, the Carlos in Brazil.

She moved his finger in and out of her mouth, as her thighs tightened on his. Sliding his damp finger out of her mouth, she arched back and let his finger skim down her throat to her chest. Two seconds later, he had her shirt unbuttoned and was reaching inside to caress her soft skin. She grabbed his head and brought his mouth to her chest.

“I love you, Chuck,” she murmured against his hair.

“I love you, too, Lois,” he whispered, hating himself for not being able to resist her charms enough to tell her the truth first.

Carlos had told Clark to go home, marry Lois, and create his own descendants for Utopia. “That woman isn’t minha,” Carlos had insisted. Lois wasn’t his. Well, the man was a priest after all.

“Minha,” he murmured, his hand brushing down her soft skin to her bottom. He lifted her up and moved her more onto his lap.

“Huh?” Lois mumbled, her voice hoarse.

“Minha. It’s Portuguese for ‘mine’,” Clark explained.

She grinned. “Portuguese, too. I doubt you’ll ever stop impressing me with that tongue of yours.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

He showed her what else he could do with that tongue.

Lois moaned. “Minha. I like it. I want you to call me that, because that’s what I am, yours, forever yours.”

He had to tell her. This couldn’t go any further until he said the words. As his hand slipped under her skirt and up her thigh, he whispered, “Lois, I’m…”

“Minha. Call me minha, Chuck,” she said, turning to lie down on the couch and bringing him to cover her.

“Minha, I’m…” Clark cleared his throat as the word caught there. “I am…”

A knock on his front door interrupted him. He glanced up and scooted down his glasses to see who it was. H.G. Wells stood on the other side.

***End of Part 72***

Part 73

So, how many of you believe H.G. Wells is related to Jimmy Olsen? Comments ?