Lois awoke to the soft patter of rain against the windows, a gray December morning greeting her through the faint glow of the curtains. The snow had melted into scattered patches of ice, leaving the city draped in shades of gray. Beside her, Clark slept peacefully, his breathing deep and steady. She smiled, her heart warming at the sight of him so at ease.
Quietly slipping out of bed, she padded into the kitchen, determined to surprise him. She brewed a pot of coffee and set out his favorite mug, a gift she’d bought him not long after learning his secret. At the time, she’d needed a little space to process everything, but when the dust settled, she’d stumbled on the perfect mug:
"Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is just be yourself."
It had come to symbolize the moment they truly became a team, secrets and all. She smiled, as she set the table.
“Well, good morning,” Clark said from behind her, already dressed and ready. “You’re full of surprises today.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Lois teased, a smirk playing on her lips. “Mad Dog Lane has got a reputation to protect.”
Clark chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “So, what’s the occasion? You’re pampering me - there’s got to be an angle.”
“Can’t I just do something nice for my husband?” she asked, tilting her head and leaning up to kiss him.
After breakfast she went to the calendar, untying the ribbon of the bag, a cherry ornament fell out. “A cherry?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Today’s tradition is tied to Saint Barbara’s Day. I learned about it in Lithuania. People cut branches from cherry or apple trees and bring them indoors. If the branches bloom by Christmas, it’s a sign of good luck and prosperity.”
Lois turned the ornament in her hands, intrigued. “So, it’s like fortune-telling, but with flowers?”
“In a way,” Clark said. “But it’s more about patience and hope - watching something bloom in the heart of winter. I thought we could head to the park on our way to work. We’ll bring some branches back and see what happens.”
After breakfast they grabbed their umbrellas and headed out. A cold wind blew around them as they wandered through the park, the trees standing bare against the winter sky. Clark carefully selected a couple of branches from an old cherry tree and handed them to Lois.
“These should do,” he said with a smile. “Now we just need to give them a little warmth and care.”
---
Later that day, the newsroom was abuzz with its usual energy. Lois sat at her desk, typing up notes.
Clark leaned over, catching her eye. “How’s the story coming?”
“Slowly,” Lois muttered, brushing a strand of hair back. “But it’s getting there. You?”
“Pretty much done. Just waiting on a call to confirm a detail.”
Before they could say more, Perry strolled over, coffee cup in hand. He gestured at the vase on Lois’s desk. “What’s that? New Christmas decor?”
Lois smirked. “It’s for St. Barbara’s Day. Clark introduced me to the tradition. If the branch blooms by Christmas, it’s supposed to bring good luck.”
Perry studied the branch with interest. “Good luck, huh? Well, we could use some of that. Christmas season’s a snooze-fest for news.”
Clark chuckled. “It’s more about hope than luck - a reminder that good things can grow even in tough times.”
Perry nodded, his expression softening. “You know, you two could teach this old dog a thing or two about keeping the faith.”
Lois smirked. “We’ll try not to rub off on you too much, Chief. Wouldn’t want you getting too sentimental - besides, you and Clark are the sentimental softies here, not me.”
“Don’t push your luck, Lane,” Perry retorted with a wink. “Now, if you two lovebirds can tear yourselves away from horticulture, I need that exposé by end of day.”
As he walked away, Clark glanced at Lois. “Sentimental softy, huh?”
She shrugged, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “It’s part of your charm, honey. People can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy around you.”
He chuckled. “Even you?”
“Especially me.” Lois leaned back in her chair, giving him a playful look.
Clark reached over, his hand brushing hers briefly. “Well, I ‘m glad it works on you.”
Lois smirked, but her eyes softened as she glanced at the branch again. “Yeah, it does.”
She stole a kiss from Clark before they got back to work.
---
That evening, the house glowed with warmth as Lois set the branches on the windowsill.
Clark handed her a mug. The faint aroma of honey and something earthy filled the air.
“This,” he said, gesturing to the creamy drink, “is Aguonų pienas - poppy seed milk. It’s another Lithuanian Christmas tradition, usually served during Kūčios, their Christmas Eve dinner because poppy seeds were believed to symbolize the return of the sun and the promise of longer, lighter days ahead.”
Lois picked up the mug, studying the pale, milky liquid. She took a cautious sip, her brows lifting in pleasant surprise. “It’s sweet. I like it.”
Clark smiled, his gaze soft as he watched her. “Sweet, like my beautiful wife.”
Lois set the mug down and leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”
“And you love me for it,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her.
She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I do.”
They sat in peaceful silence, the fire’s warmth and rain’s gentle rhythm wrapping them in calm.
