Lois stirred in the soft cocoon of their bed, her head nestled against Clark. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. She let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer as Clark’s arm instinctively tightened around her.
They lay there, wrapped in each other, the world outside momentarily forgotten. Lois listened to his breathing steady and reassuring. Her thoughts lingered on the night before, on Jor-El’s words and the quiet hope they stirred within her.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice warm and gentle, still thick with sleep.
She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, a happy smile curving her lips. “Morning,” she whispered.
For a while, neither of them moved, savoring the stillness of the morning. Clark’s hand drifted down absently, settling over her stomach, tracing idle patterns. His touch was light, almost protective, as if he were responding to something unspoken.
Lois froze for the briefest moment, her heart skipping a beat, but Clark didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled at her, his eyes soft with affection.
Eventually, Lois stretched and yawned, her stomach letting out a loud growl that broke the peaceful silence. She winced, then laughed as Clark raised an amused eyebrow.
“Guess I can’t deny that,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing.
“Sounds like breakfast is calling,” Clark teased, his hand lingering just a second longer before he pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her lips.
Lois stretched again, reluctantly pulling herself out of their warm embrace. “We should get moving,” she said, brushing a hand through her tousled hair. “There’s too much to do. Perry’s going to…”
Clark interrupted her with a soft chuckle, sitting up and catching her hand before she could fully leave the bed. “Lois, slow down.”
She turned to him, one eyebrow arched, her expression a mix of disbelief and faint amusement. “Slow down? Do you even know me?”
Clark chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a knowing smile. “Oh, I know you,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “And I also know that even [b]you[b/] deserve a break once in a while. That’s why I called Perry last night and told him we needed a day off.”
Her jaw dropped. “You what?”
“I asked for the day off,” he repeated, his voice calm and steady. “You’ve been running yourself ragged and after everything yesterday, I figured we could both use some time to recharge.”
“Recharge?” she echoed, her tone incredulous. “Clark, we’re in the middle of—”
“It’s one additional day, Lois, tomorrow is Christmas.” he said gently, cutting her off. “Perry didn’t even argue. He said we’ve more than earned it. He also said something about you needing to stop and breathe once in a while.”
She blinked, processing his words. “Perry said that?”
Clark nodded, his smile widening. “You’ve been carrying so much lately, Lois. Let it go for one day. The world will still be there tomorrow.”
Her instincts told her to argue, to insist that taking a day off was irresponsible. But the warmth in Clark’s gaze, the quiet strength in his voice, and the way he seemed so determined to take care of her, made her pause.
“Okay,” she murmured finally, her tone soft. Then, with a spark of playful defiance, she added, “But only because you asked nicely—and because I’m pretty sure Perry would have my head if I didn’t.”
Clark laughed, reaching to brush a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ll take it. Though I’m holding you to that ‘only because I asked nicely’ part.”
He laughed, stepping out of bed and wrapping his arms around her. “Everyone at the Planet knows you’d work straight through a blizzard if you could.”
“For the record, I have - although only with your help…” she quipped, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Clark pressed a kiss to her temple, his grin widening. “And that’s why you deserve this day off.”
They grabbed their robes, slipping them on and as they headed downstairs, the scent of pine and cinnamon greeted them, mingling with the golden morning light streaming through the windows. Near the doorway to the kitchen, a sprig of mistletoe hung overhead, its green leaves and white berries catching Lois’s eye.
She stopped, tilting her head toward it, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Seriously, Clark? Mistletoe?”
Clark turned back to her, his expression feigning innocence. “It’s tradition.”
Lois arched an eyebrow but didn’t move. “I’m pretty sure the tradition involves someone catching you under it.”
“Then I guess I better not waste the opportunity,” Clark said, his grin turning mischievous.
Before she could react, he scooped her off her feet in one smooth motion, his arms cradling her with effortless ease. “Clark!” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting as he spun her around once, the room blurring around them.
“Caught you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, before lowering her just enough so their faces were inches apart. The sparkle in his eyes left her breathless, her witty retort forgotten as his lips found hers.
The kiss was soft at first, lingering and sweet, but deepened just enough to make her heart flutter. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the familiar, heady rush of being with him.
When they finally parted, Lois looked up at him with a smirk, her arms still loosely around his neck. “Fine, you win this round, farmboy. But if I find mistletoe in the Planet’s newsroom, we’re having words. Especially if Ralph is anywhere near it.”
Clark chuckled as he set her back on her feet, his hands lingering at her waist. “Fair point. I’ll make sure not to hang any in the newsroom - I wouldn’t want him to catch you under it.”
Lois laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she reached for his hand. “There’s zero chance of that happening and him living to tell the tale.” She paused, her smirk deepening. “The only question is, who’d be faster taking him out - you or me?”
Clark grinned as they walked toward the kitchen. He gave her hand a playful squeeze. “Oh, you, definitely. I’d barely get there in time to stop you - even with superspeed.”
In the kitchen, Clark moved easily, preparing a quick breakfast - scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and coffee. Lois set the table, her movements deliberate as she placed the dishes with care.
"You're really pulling out all the stops this morning," Lois teased, glancing over her shoulder with a raised brow.
Clark grinned, flipping the eggs with practiced ease. "Well, if we’re taking a rare day off, I figure it’s my job to make sure it starts right. Especially since I know how grumpy you get without your coffee."
“Hey!” Lois protested, feigning offense as she swatted his shoulder.
He laughed softly, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Am I wrong?”
She decided not to grace his remark with an answer and leaned against the counter, watching him with a softened gaze. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this - seeing you like this. Just… making breakfast, doing the little things.”
Clark set the eggs on a plate and turned to her, his smile gentler now. “I like these little things. They keep me grounded. Sometimes it’s easy to lose perspective when Superman’s always flying off to save the day.”
Lois poured their coffee, her smirk returning as she handed him a mug. “Well, you certainly don’t lose focus in the kitchen. I’ve definitely gotten used to this kind of service.”
Clark carried the plates to the table, his eyes gleaming with teasing warmth. “Oh, so you’re admitting it - you’re spoiled.”
Lois laughed as she sat down, shaking her head. “Maybe just a little.”
As Clark set the last plate down, he leaned against the table and grinned. “You know, I think you’re getting soft on me.”
Lois arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Soft? Me? Let me remind you - I didn’t work my buns off to babysit some hack from Nowheresville.”
He chuckled, remembering the fiery words from when they first met. “I know, I know. I don’t work with you; I work for you.”
“Exactly,” she said, grinning as she stepped closer. “I call the shots. I ask the questions.” Her tone turned playful as she kissed the corner of his mouth.
“And we both know you like to be on top,” Clark murmured, his voice dropping slightly as his arms circled her waist.
Lois gave him a wicked grin. “Don’t push me, Kent. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Clark chuckled, letting her go just enough to pull out a chair for her. “Guess I’ll just have to keep proving myself, huh?”
Lois shook her head, rolling her eyes but taking the offered seat. “Keep trying, farmboy. Maybe one day I’ll let you call the shots—don’t hold your breath, though.”
He sat across from her, his expression soft as he reached for her hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But for today, I like the idea of a quiet morning with my favorite person.”
Lois rolled her eyes again, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her. “Careful, Smallville. You keep saying things like that, and I might start thinking you actually enjoy spending time with me.”
Clark’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he passed her the fruit bowl. “Guilty as charged.”
After breakfast, they worked together to clear the table. Clark rinsed the dishes while Lois wiped down the counters, a comfortable rhythm flowing between them.
“You’re not bad at this,” Lois remarked, tossing him a dishtowel as he finished drying the last plate.
Clark smirked, catching it effortlessly. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”
Lois rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Don’t get too cocky, farmboy. It’s just dishes.”
They finished up quickly, and Clark gave her hand a gentle tug. “Come on, let’s go get ready for the day.”
Upstairs, the bathroom filled with the soothing sound of running water as Clark adjusted the shower temperature. Steam curled around them as Lois stepped under the warm spray, letting it cascade over her shoulders.
“This is nice,” she murmured, tilting her face up to let the water wash away the last remnants of sleep.
Clark joined her, his movements easy and familiar as he reached for the shampoo. “Let me help.”
Lois laughed softly as his fingers worked through her hair, the pressure just right. “You’re too good at this. Should I be worried you’ve had practice?”
Clark met her gaze with a mock-serious expression. “Only on myself. Do you know how tricky it is to manage super-powered hair?”
She smirked, leaning into his touch. “Well, I have to admit, you’ve got the technique down.”
He chuckled, rinsing her hair before soaping his hands and gently massaging her shoulders. “And you’re not bad at relaxing, city-girl.”
“Careful, Kent,” she teased, her voice low and playful. “I might start expecting this level of service every morning.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he replied, his tone warm and sincere.
They lingered a little longer, sharing quiet laughter and whispered words, until the water began to cool. Lois grabbed a towel from the rack, tossing one to Clark before wrapping herself up snugly.
As they stepped out, she glanced at him with a grin. “You’re setting the bar high, farmboy.”
He winked, draping the towel over his shoulders. “Just wait until I make lunch.”
Lois shook her head, laughing softly as they moved toward their closet to pick out the day’s outfits.
Upstairs, they dressed quickly, the lightheartedness from their shared shower lingering between them. Clark, in his usual thoughtful way, helped Lois with the clasp of her necklace, his fingers brushing against her skin. She gave him a soft smile, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before they headed back downstairs.
As they reached the living room, Lois paused, her gaze catching on the mantle. The twigs they had gathered weeks ago on St. Barbara’s Day were no longer bare. Stepping closer, she saw delicate white blossoms adorning the branches, glowing softly in the early morning light.
She stopped in front of them, her fingers brushing gently across the petals, almost as if she were afraid they might disappear. “They bloomed,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe.
Clark joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his gaze warm as he looked at the blossoms. “They’re beautiful, Lois.”
She leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, and for a moment, she considered telling him right then and there. The words hovered on the tip of her tongue, her heart aching with the weight of her secret. She knew how much this would mean to him - how it was his heart’s wish.
But tomorrow, she reminded herself. Tomorrow would be perfect.
Still, the thought of holding it in for another day made her chest feel tight. Turning in his arms, she looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. “It feels… symbolic. Like a promise.”
Clark nodded, his voice gentle as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “A promise of hope and renewal. Perfect for today.”
Lois smiled, resting her hand lightly against his chest. She knew he could feel everything - her heartbeat, her warmth - but not the tiny, miraculous life growing inside her. Not yet. But soon.
Her fingers lingered over the blossoms again as she leaned into his embrace, savoring the moment, and the promise of the one to come.
---
After their quiet morning, Lois and Clark transitioned into preparing for the following evening. The house hummed with warmth and activity, filled with the scent of baking and the soft hum of Christmas tunes.
Clark took charge of the heavier preparations - carrying chairs from the basement, rearranging the dining room for the extra guests, and helping Lois with decorations.
Lois, meanwhile, focused on the smaller, more personal touches: folding napkins into festive shapes, arranging candles, and placing name cards on the table. As she worked, she paused occasionally, her hand brushing across her stomach, a small, private smile crossing her lips.
Clark noticed her pause and tilted his head. “You okay?”
“Hmm?” Lois startled slightly, quickly recovering. “Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about how much everyone’s going to love this.”
He smiled, brushing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ve thought of everything.”
Lois swallowed her urge to tell him, her heart fluttering. “Not quite everything, but tomorrow will be perfect.”
One of the final tasks was assembling a centerpiece for the dining table. Lois had come up with the idea of a small decorative jar filled with handwritten notes for their guests - “Christmas wishes,” she called them.
She sat at the table, carefully writing each note on small slips of paper while Clark worked in the kitchen, preparing for tomorrow’s dinner. The quiet moment gave her a chance to finalize another part of her plan - her special gift for Clark.
She began drafting a letter for him, pouring her heart into the words. But each time she finished, she hesitated, crumpling the paper and starting over. None of the drafts felt quite right for the occasion. Finally, after much deliberation, she wrote the perfect version, folded it neatly, and slipped it into her pocket.
Hearing Clark’s footsteps approaching, Lois quickly gathered the discarded scraps of paper and walked over to the fireplace, tossing them into the flames just as he entered.
“Are you cold?” Clark asked, noting her by the fire. “I can throw another log on if you want.”
Lois shook her head with a quick smile. “No, I’m fine. Just getting rid of a few little… mishaps while writing.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, moving to join her at the table. Together, they began folding the small notes for the jar.
“You’re sure this isn’t too much?” Clark teased, glancing at the growing pile of folded papers.
Lois smirked, her tone playful. “It’s Christmas, farmboy. There’s no such thing as too much.”
Clark chuckled, reaching for another slip to fold.
When they finished, Clark tied a festive ribbon around the jar and placed it in the center of the table. He turned back to Lois, pulling her gently into his arms. “Looks perfect,” he said softly.
Lois leaned into him, her fingers resting lightly on his chest. The warmth of the fire and Clark’s embrace filled her with a quiet joy. “It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas,” she whispered, her smile tinged with a secret she could barely contain.
---
When they finished with their preparations, they settled on the couch, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree casting a soft glow across the living room.
Her eyes fell on the advent calendar sitting nearby, and she noticed the final bag waiting for her. She picked it up carefully, untying the ribbon and pulling out its contents—a small, handcrafted ornament shaped like a dove, its wings outstretched in flight.
Lois held it up, studying the intricate detail. “A dove,” she said softly. “The symbol of peace.”
Clark stepped closer, his voice warm. “And a reminder of hope. The kind we carry with us, even when things seem uncertain.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her gently into his embrace. “The first Christmas wasn’t about grandeur - it was about love, humility, and the simple act of being there for others.”
She leaned against him, her voice soft. “Thank you, Clark, for the best Christmas season I’ve ever had.”
Together, they hung the dove ornament on the tree, its soft shimmer catching the glow of the lights. They stood quietly for a moment, the warmth of the room and the delicate blossoms of the St. Barbara’s twigs filling the air with a sense of renewal - a promise they carried into the night.
As the tree lights twinkled, Lois glanced up at Clark, her heart full of unspoken words. She brushed her fingers lightly over her stomach, where a new kind of hope was quietly growing. Tomorrow, she would tell him. For now, she stayed in the moment, letting herself rest in the love they shared.
Outside, snow began to fall, blanketing the world in quiet stillness. Inside, the little dove gleamed softly on the tree, a symbol of everything they were building together, peace, hope, and the kind of love that could light up even the darkest of nights.
