The next morning, Lois awoke to find Clark still lying beside her. Warmth spread through her chest as she watched him, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early light. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly across his cheek. His eyes fluttered open and a soft, amused smile tugged at his lips.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice rich and warm. He pulled her close, wrapping her in the kind of embrace that made her feel like nothing else in the world mattered.
Lois smiled against his chest, her thoughts drifting back to the previous evening. Clark’s advent idea had been just what she needed. Baking cookies together had turned into a surprisingly fun activity, with flour dusting Clark’s hair like snow and her laughter echoing through the kitchen. It had been messy and imperfect, but it had felt real, full of the kind of joy she didn’t often associate with Christmas.
This morning, though, she was grateful for the simple gift of waking up with him still by her side.
Later - after lingering far longer than they should have in the warmth of each other’s arms - they scrambled to get ready for work. As Lois walked into the living room, she paused by the basket with the numbered bags. Clark was already in the kitchen, the sounds of breakfast preparations drifting through the air.
She quickly located today’s bag, untying the ribbon with a hint of anticipation. Shaking the bag gently, she jumped and let out a little shriek when a small glass ornament, shaped like a spider fell into her hand. She held it up, one eyebrow arching in disbelief.
“A spider?”
Clark stepped into the room, carrying two cups of coffee and grinning as he saw the ornament in her hand. “I see you already opened today’s bag. And yes, a spider. There’s a story behind it.”
Lois eyed the spider skeptically but allowed herself to be intrigued. “You’ve got my attention. What’s the deal with the creepy-crawly?”
Clark set the cups down and opened a nearby box, revealing shimmering silver and gold spider web decorations. “This tradition comes from Ukraine. According to legend, a poor widow and her children couldn’t afford to decorate their Christmas tree. On Christmas Eve, spiders spun intricate webs all over the branches. When the family woke up, sunlight streaming through the window turned the webs into gold and silver, making the tree beautiful and filling them with joy.”
Lois tilted her head, her initial skepticism softening. “That’s… actually kind of sweet.” She studied the spider ornament in her hand, its delicate details catching the light.
“I thought we’d make today a little extra special. First, I made some kutia, a traditional Ukrainian dish. It’s made with wheat, honey, berries, poppy seeds and nuts. It symbolizes unity and abundance.”
Lois followed him into the kitchen, where the table was already set with bowls of the hearty dish. She took a cautious bite, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.
“This is… really good,” she admitted, savoring the mix of flavors. She shot him a teasing glance. “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Kent. It reminds me of why I married you.”
Clark grinned as he started with his own bowl. “You married me for my cooking skills, obviously.”
“Well, those are definitely a perk,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Though I seem to recall you advertising other talents - flying, lifting heavy things, cleaning the house at superspeed...”
“True,” Clark replied, his grin widening. “But most of those don’t really help in the kitchen.”
“Exactly,” she quipped. “The only thing you’re lifting in here is my opinion of breakfast food. And, let’s be honest, you’re also saving me from my own cooking disasters.”
Clark laughed, giving her a mock bow. “Always happy to be your culinary superhero. But breakfast is just the start. After work, I thought we could do something inspired by today’s story.”
Lois raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess - spinning webs?”
“Close,” he said, his voice softening. “Mom and her friends in Smallville knitted some scarves, gloves and blankets. I thought we could deliver them to the shelter. It’s a small way to weave a little warmth and hope into someone else’s life, like the spiders did for the widow.”
Lois paused, her expression softening as she looked at him. “I like that,” she said, her voice quiet but warm.
With that Clark cleaned the kitchen in superspeed before flying both of them to work.
---
Later that evening, after their trip to the shelter, Lois and Clark returned home. The memory of grateful smiles stayed with her as they placed the empty donation bags by the door.
Lois lingered by the Christmas tree, her eyes on the spider web decorations now draped across the branches. They shimmered in the soft light.
“You know,” she said quietly, “there’s something comforting about this story. It’s like… no matter how hopeless things feel, there’s always a chance for something beautiful to surprise you.”
Clark came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That’s what I love about Christmas,” he said, his voice low and warm. “It’s not just about what we give or get. It’s about noticing the beauty in the small, unexpected things.”
Lois leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “For showing me that.”
Clark kissed the top of her head. “Always.”
Together, they stood in the glow of the tree, the spiderwebs shimmering like spun gold. And for the first time, Lois felt the stirrings of a quieter, simpler kind of Christmas magic, one that reminded her of the joy found in unexpected places.
