Authors' note: This story is an answer to the Challenging Challenges issued by LabRat and Skitz. Can you find all the challenge items we included? We're curious to see how many you found.
Comments Thank you, Retro Rose and TriciaW for your help beta reading this story.
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SMURFED!
by Alicia U. and rivka
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It had been a lovely end to a busy day. A romantic dinner, a stroll through Centennial Park, and the night was still young. As Lois thought about her plans for the evening, she felt a large, conspiratorial grin spread across her face. She hoped dinner would be only the beginning of what was shaping up to be memorable night. Lois idly poked at the fire she had just made. The fire's glow and lowered lights lent a romantic atmosphere to the living room. Today was her first Valentine's Day married to Clark, and she intended to make the most of it.
Behind her, she heard the pop of a cork and the familiar sound of her husband's footsteps. Lois hastily put the poker back on its hook, and turned to smile at Clark. He juggled a wine bottle and two glasses, carefully placing them on the low coffee table. She noticed he had already shed his jacket and tie. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and removed his glasses. As he sat on the floor, he slipped off his shoes, placing them neatly under the table.
Clark smiled back at his lovely wife, who was still fully dressed; she hadn't even removed her shoes. Maybe it wasn't appropriate to call wearing *that* dress 'fully dressed'! He had been absolutely drooling from the moment he saw her in the long, black, shimmering, clingy dress with its short, fitted black velvet jacket. It was cut down to *there* and slit up all the way to *there*, leaving little to the imagination. Clark was sure Lois had selected it carefully, knowing precisely the effect it would have on him. For what seemed like the hundredth time tonight, he allowed his eyes to trail up and down her body appreciatively, before deliberately turning his attention back to pouring the wine.
If he was going to stay sane throughout whatever game she had planned, he would have to make sure his attention was distracted elsewhere. Wine, yes, the wine was a safe subject. "I thought a nice Cabernet would be about right for cards."
"Hmm, yeah," Lois said. She really didn't care what wine they were drinking. There were many other, more important things on her mind -- like finding the deck of Uno cards.
Clark turned towards his wife, but had to look away. The way she was stretching up to the top shelf exposed even more of her long legs. He gulped audibly. It took all of his willpower to carry on a conversation, suppressing the almost overpowering urge to ravage her on the spot. Yes, she had definitely chosen this outfit deliberately -- it distracted his attention enough for him not to care about winning *whatever* game they might be playing. When Clark found his voice, he asked, "What did you say we were playing? 'Strip *Uno*'?" He'd never heard of 'Strip Uno' before, but he was always ready to try almost anything. He slowly eased himself to the floor and took a sip of his wine.
Lois had been hunting for the Uno cards on the game shelf, and she finally grabbed the large deck. Triumphant, she waved it over hear head. "Found the cards!" She walked over to Clark, smiling seductively. "Yeah, it was online. You did say I should come up with something fun and different for Valentine's Day." She leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her husband's lips as she sat down across from him. "A special game for an extra-special night."
Clark placed a glass of wine on the table, just out of Lois' reach. When she reached out to take it, he captured her hand in his, and began trailing kisses up her arm. After a moment, Lois twisted away, laughing. "Later, Clark."
He looked at her, eyes pleading. "Is that a promise?" he asked huskily.
"Yes." Lois nodded slowly, batting her eyelashes seductively. Then her expression changed and she grinned at him. "But first I get to beat you at cards!"
Conceding defeat, for now at least, Clark sat back and let Lois deal him three cards. "Just three?" At her nod, he shrugged. Since Lois didn't seem to be forthcoming with the rules, Clark tried to gently guide her into explaining them. "Who's going first?"
Instead of answering the question, Lois put her first card, a red 5, down on the deck. "Uno!" Lois exclaimed as she put her second card, a blue 5 on the pile. "Let's see some skin, Kent!"
Clark rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he hadn't figured he would probably lose. He usually did when he played games with Lois, but he hadn't expected to start losing so *quickly*, before he even knew the rules, or had a chance to play any cards!
"But this isn't fair, honey, you're wearing more clothes than I am." She was wearing three more articles of clothing than he was! He was really stupid for taking off his tie, jacket, and shoes! Wait, hadn't Lois suggested he get more comfortable? "I'm not wearing nylons..."
"I'd sure hope *not*!" Lois exclaimed.
He rolled his eyes and continued, "Or shoes, or a jacket, so maybe you should take them off to make it fair."
Lois shrugged when she said, "Yes but you *are* wearing the Suit. That should count for at least three different items."
"No I'm not! I took it off. Superman is taking Valentine's Day off, for a romantic evening of 'Strip Uno' with his wife." He looked at her pleadingly. "So, come on, make it fair. I'm just wearing my boxers under my clothes." He unbuttoned a few shirt buttons, showing her his bare skin.
"That's your own fault, Clark." Lois shook her head slowly, as if she hadn't guessed that Clark wouldn't wear the 'Suit.'
"But the 'Suit' is so hard to take off," he argued.
"But you can do it in 5 seconds," Lois objected. "It is *not* hard for you to take it off."
"Well, I was hoping *you* would help me, with whatever I was wearing." He gazed at her hopefully.
Lois laughed. "I see." She smiled oh-so-sweetly at Clark. "Well, you *will* be taking off your clothes. There's no question about that. I'm glad you're thinking ahead. But judging by how well you're doing so far, you won't need *my* help."
Conceding defeat, Clark tried another tactic. "I don't understand, honey." He shook his head incredulously. "It makes no sense. We only get three cards to start, but you got to go first and you had two fives. And you win when you have Uno, not when all of your cards are gone? I've never played Uno like this before."
"We've never played 'Strip Uno' before, Clark." Lois said matter-of-factly. "The rules are different."
"I still don't think we're playing right." Clark shook his head woefully. "I didn't even get a chance to play any of my cards!"
"It's all in the rules, honey." Lois knew he wasn't really angry, but this was a script they often followed. He would accuse her of cheating, she would deny it, they would keep playing, she would cheat, and then she would win. It always worked out that way. She did anything to win -- even accused *him* of cheating.
"Where did you find these rules?" Clark was having difficulty believing that these were real rules. They just couldn't be. He was fairly sure she had invented this game for tonight -- a game that she was sure to win.
She flashed a piece of paper with two hand-written lines and said, "On a Valentines Day web site. 'Spice up your love life.' Come on, Clark, I'll go easy on you. Just take off one of your socks," she said, tugging on his right sock for emphasis.
Clark pulled the sock off the rest of the way and flung it at Lois. "Hey!" she objected. "You're just supposed to take them off. The rules say *nothing* about throwing them."
"Oh, yeah? Let me see those rules. Who's ever heard of 'Strip Uno'?" He reached out to grab the rules from her hands.
She sat back just out of his reach and said, "Apparently, a lot of people. The site had over 10,000 hits, according to that little counter thing on the bottom. Plus, you're the one who claimed I cheat at strip poker! I thought it would be a nice change."
"Well, yeah, I said I wanted variety, but by variety I meant . . ." He shook his head woefully as he muttered, "I still think you made this game up."
"I heard that, Clark! You're just upset because you're losing."
"I am *not* losing! Let me see those rules." He grabbed them out of her hand as she protested.
"Hey, no, it's my game! I'm the ref and I make the rules," she realized her mistake, and quickly amended, "I mean decisions; I make the decisions. And I say take your sock off!"
"But I'm playing, too." He decided to ignore her comment about making the rules. After all, he'd known *that* all along. But even though he had accepted that Lois had made them up, he couldn't believe what he was reading. His jaw dropped. "'Clark takes off all his clothes. Lois wins.' *Those* are the rules?"
"Those aren't the *only* rules. They're my 'house rules.' Every Uno game must follow the house rules. It's a *rule*. Look at the other side of the paper."
Clark flipped the paper and saw a page of notes in Lois' scrawled handwriting.
Lois tapped the paper. "See, *these* are the rules. But see, right there, where it says everyone must follow house rules? The house rules are on the other side."
"You made this game up."
"No I didn't! It's really on the Internet. We didn't have any ink in the printer, so I had to write the rules down. Do I have to show you?"
"Yes!" He exclaimed and grabbed Lois' laptop from the other end of the coffee table. "I want you to show me these so-called rules."
"Fine! I will!" As she loaded the web page, she smirked at him. "I should make you take off your shirt for challenging me."
"Fine, if these are the real rules, I'll take off my shirt."
When the web page came up, she read it aloud. "Strip Uno, the fool-proof game for adult fun." She grinned at him when she said, "See, I told you! It's just like traditional seven-card Uno, but each player starts off with only three cards to make the game go faster. Whenever someone yells 'Uno,' the other players must take off one article of clothing. However, if a player has a wild card, he or she may use it to make another player take off an article of clothing of their choosing."
Clark scanned the page incredulously. "It's a real game. I don't believe it. Are you sure you didn't create this web page?"
Lois rolled her eyes and said, "Clark, do you *think* I know how to make web pages? I just learned how to use my email!"
"Liar! You used email before I did. And maybe Jimmy was in on this, too."
Lois tugged on his shirt and started to unbutton the bottom buttons. "You lose, Clark, take off that shirt!"
Clark groaned. He was losing more quickly than he ever had before. Strip poker was looking better and better by the second. Begrudgingly, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and shrugged out of it revealing his bare, delectable chest. Watching Lois' tongue dart out and wet her lips, he realized that losing so quickly wasn't such a bad thing, after all. The sooner this game ended, the sooner they could move on to their . . . other plans.
With newfound enthusiasm, Clark picked up the deck of cards and dealt a new hand. "Okay, let's get this game going again."
All too quickly, Clark found himself wearing only his boxers. He had picked some out specifically for today. Black silk, with tiny red hearts. He caught Lois, still fully-clad, eying them surreptitiously. The game would be over before he knew it! Then they'd be onto the good stuff he'd been waiting for all day.
Lois grinned at her utter brilliance. After playing just three hands, Clark was in 'check,' wearing just his boxers. She wanted to make it 'check mate'! She reached out to deal the next hand, the 'victory hand,' as she intended to call it. She was distracted by the wide, rippling expanse of Clark's chest. She couldn't stop her eyes from tracing a path across his well-defined pecs, down his six-pack abs . . .
"Honey, are you going to deal?" Clark asked, noticing that Lois had stopped celebrating her latest victory, but still hadn't picked up the cards. It looked like she was . . . distracted.
Maybe Lois' traditional victory celebration, something Clark definitely enjoyed, and the ultimate reward of losing to Lois, could come early tonight. Right now, he was considering conceding defeat. And judging from the way she was ogling him, he was sure she wouldn't object.
When it didn't appear that Lois was going to answer him, he decided to get her attention another way. He leaned over the deck of cards, spilling the pile. He grabbed her and pulled her close, trailing soft kisses down her neck. Mmm, she tasted so good . . .
"Clark!" Lois exclaimed in surprise. She had been staring at his yummy chest, but suddenly it was a whole lot closer. And *something* was sucking on her neck. "What are you doing?"
Clark leaned back, still holding her close. He winked. "I found it on the Internet."
Lois raised her eyebrows. "You found sucking my neck on the Internet?"
"Hey, you found 'Strip Uno' on the Internet. I can't find new things there?" He shrugged. She wasn't the only one surfing the net for new and exciting Valentine's Day activities.
"What site did you find this on, because it is *not* fun." It felt like a leech or a high-powered vacuum was attacking her neck. It wasn't fair. She could suck on *his* neck for hours and he wouldn't have to worry about embarrassing hickeys, but if he sucked on her neck for more than a few seconds, she'd probably be covered in them.
"Oh, you know, I got a link to it in my email and it looked interesting." He grinned wickedly. "So I thought I'd try it."
In his email? Junk email? What kind of email gave ideas about kissing techniques? "Was it porn, Clark?" she accused.
Defensively, he said, "No, no, www dot vampire kisses dot com. It was a link in an email with vampire jokes." He laughed to himself before he continued, "Like 'What do you call it when a vampire kisses you?'"
"I don't know." Lois wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear the answer. Sometimes Clark had a very weird sense of humor.
"Necking." He laughed loudly, not really at the joke, but at the expression on Lois' face. She was obviously *not* impressed.
Lois groaned. "That isn't funny."
Clark decided to go back to 'necking' and leaned down to press his lips against the smooth, inviting, ivory skin of Lois' neck. "
Mmmm, delicious ," he murmured when he lifted his lips.
"More vampire kisses?" Lois groaned. It wasn't that the kisses didn't feel good, quite the opposite, actually. She didn't want to lose control and his lips on her neck were making her crazy. If she wanted to continue the card game, she had to change the subject quickly. "You are *not* a vampire, Kent!" Lois jumped up, grabbed the poker from the fireplace, and waved it threateningly. "I have a stake, and I'm not afraid to use it!"
Clark raised his eyebrows and looked at her questioningly. Yes, she had successfully killed the mood he had been trying to set. He decided to play along. "Stake, Lois? But I'm a Super-Vampire. It won't hurt me unless it's made of silver! Or maybe a garlic-covered *steak*?" He grinned at his wife, who looked distinctly unamused.
"Fine, fine. I'll put it back." She reached back and put the poker back in its place. She found herself smiling, as the mention of steak reminded her of dinner. "Dinner was fun, wasn't it? You chose a really nice place. But *I* was supposed to pick tonight's game, so let's get back to it. No more delaying the inevitable! You're going to lose -- and lose quickly." Lois wouldn't let a little thing like being distracted by her husband's smooth, muscular chest get in the way of victory.
She started to deal the cards, but paused when she laid eyes on his bare chest again. No, she just wouldn't look at him. What she needed was a minute to collect herself. Her focus was completely shattered. "You know what?" She stood up hastily. "This talk about food is actually making me a little hungry." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Do you want anything?"
"I vant to suck you blahd." Clark tried to grab her and steal a kiss, but Lois ducked away, laughing, as she headed for the kitchen.
"No more 'vampire kisses', Dracula." She laughed again despite herself. "Maybe I'll just eat a whole garlic clove." Grinning, she sauntered into the kitchen.
Clark watched his wife disappear through the kitchen door. His expediting tactics had not worked. He should have known better. Lois obviously had something big planned for when he lost. She was right. He *had* picked the restaurant and it *had* been her job to pick the game. Maybe he should just sit back and watch.
As Clark waited restlessly for Lois to return, he wandered over to the desk. He began to sift through the large stack of unopened letters. He hadn't had a chance to look at the mail in a few days. Long hours at the Planet and too many Superman emergencies had kept him extremely busy.
He idly flipped through the envelopes and muttered, "Water bill, electric bill, Visa bill, letter from Aunt Gail. Wait, letter from Aunt Gail? Oh no!" Clark eyed the very bright purple envelope -- complete with elaborate gold lettering -- with trepidation. How had he missed this? The last time he had received a letter from Aunt Gail, it was to announce she was coming for a visit. "Hey, honey?"
"What is it, Clark?" Lois called back from the kitchen. "Getting ready to lose another hand?"
He grabbed the letter and started to walk towards the kitchen, still staring at it in disbelief. "Did this come today?"
"Did *what* come today?" They'd gotten a lot of mail. Did he mean a package, a letter, the newspaper? She didn't have x-ray vision, so she had no idea what he was talking about.
Clark stopped next to her and tossed the letter on the table, still shocked that he'd missed it. Lois would have had no way of knowing what it was. *He* should have known better. "This."
Lois turned around with two kiwi halves in one hand, and a spoon in the other. "Oh, *that*, hmm, I think it came a couple of days ago. Maybe yesterday." Why did Clark look so stunned? She had seen the odd letter, but had assumed it was some sort of advertisement, or a perhaps one of those tiresome death threats. She shrugged. "It isn't important, is it? I mean, it's in a purple envelope and I didn't recognize the name. I thought it was just junk mail so I ignored it. Plus, I don't know any Lt. B.G. Robinson and I've never heard of Enterprise. We get all kinds of weird junk mail, Clark, so I didn't pay much attention to it. But I did plan to ask you about it, before I tossed it."
Quickly, Clark said, "Oh no, honey, don't worry. It's not your fault. I should have warned you about her." He sighed deeply. "It's Bronwyn Gail, actually. Lieutenant Bronwyn Gail Robinson." He sighed again.
"Oh, so you know her?" Lois asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
"I know it's, well, unusual, Lois, but she's my mom's weird aunt." At Lois' blank look, Clark explained, "You remember. Mom's Aunt Gail. You know, the one who gave us that unusual sculpture, that wedding present we put away somewhere? Well, she lives in Enterprise, but she thinks she lives *on* the Enterprise."
"She is lives where? Enterprise? Is that in Kansas?"
"Well, actually, yes, it is."
"Oh, okay, so Enterprise *is* in Kansas? I thought you were just making that up." Now Lois was really confused.
"Yeah it's right off Interstate 70. I mean, according to my mom, she was always a little different, but when she moved to Enterprise, she got really strange."
Lois picked up the envelope and examined the return address again. "But this envelope doesn't say
Enterprise, KS , it says *the* Enterprise."
"See, I *told* you she's a little . . . odd. She lives in Enterprise, Kansas . . . but the thing is, she thinks she lives on *the* Enterprise."
"What is *the* Enterprise? I've never heard of it." It did sound oddly familiar, but Lois could not place it.
"You, know, like in Star Trek?" When he saw her blank stare, he continued, "The Starship Enterprise?"
Lois nodded. Now she remembered. "Oh, right, Star Trek, that movie with the cute grizzly bear."
"Grizzly bear?" Clark raised his eyebrows. There weren't any grizzly bears in Star Trek, were there? He wasn't exactly a Trekkie, but he had watched several episodes.
"Right, what *is* his name?" She shook her head, trying to stir the memory. "He's tall and fuzzy." She tapped Clark on the shoulder, hoping he would jump in with the answer. "You know the movie. It has all those robots with a lot of numbers and letters, and that funny-sounding guy, Dark Nader."
"Dark Nader?" What did she mean? Robots with lots of numbers and letters? Then he figured out what she must be referring to. "Oh, you mean *Darth Vader*. That's Star *Wars*. I'm talking about Star *Trek*. You know, the Starship Enterprise? Vulcans? Tribbles?"
"Oh, Tribbles, aren't they those cute little . . . oh *that* Enterprise!" Clark's Aunt Gail thought she was a character on a TV show?
Deciding a change of subject was necessary, Clark opened the letter. He looked more and more unhappy as he read it aloud.
Transporter Chief's Log,
Star Date -326084.47
New orders received from Admiral M Kent. I am to arrive at 348 Hyperion Avenue, Metropolis, New Troy, United States of America, Earth, Sol System, Sagittarian Arm, Milky Way, Alpha Quadrant no later than Stardate -326122.83. My orders are to search for intelligent life at that location. Return to Enterprise by Stardate -326128.31.
"Oh no, she's coming!" groaned Clark.
"She is?" How did he get that from the gibberish he had just read? "When?"
"Well, she didn't use regular dates." He showed the letter to Lois, pointing. "But my mom told me how to convert Stardates into our calendar . . . Aunt Gail always uses Stardates, so we learned how." Clark pondered for a moment. "It says she wrote this two weeks ago! Oh no! Just how long have we had this letter sitting here?"
Lois looked a little guilty, but ignored his question in favor a more pressing one. "But when does it say she'll be here?"
Clark did another quick calculation. He raised his eyebrows in horror. "Tomorrow night! At 8 o'clock. Lois! What if I hadn't seen this letter just now? What if she'd just shown up, and we weren't expecting her?" He tried not to panic. Aunt Gail was very . . . strange. He was never sure *how* to prepare for her, but he always tried!
Lois was unconcerned. "What if she did? Do we need to crazy-proof the house before she comes or something?" She shrugged.
Clark fought a grin. "No, Lois, but we do need to find that statue. If I know Aunt Gail, she'll be very upset if we aren't displaying it. She might even try to use it as an excuse to stay *longer*! Where did we put it?"
"But, Clark, it was *awful*! It's a statue of . . . of . . . *ET* or something, made of some sort of purple rock with yellow polka dots! I don't even know how anyone could *make* something like that or how someone could *buy* it. It was so *bright*, so garish, so horribly *ugly*! I don't even like having it in our house, let alone in our living room! It gave me the creeps!"
"Lo-is. It was NOT that bad. It was just... colorful." Probably in Aunt Gail's mind, it was the most beautiful, prized stone in the world. She would be devastated if she arrived and her favorite, okay, *only*, grandnephew wasn't displaying her precious gift.
"Clark, didn't you hear me? It was *purple*! With yellow *polka dots*! And it looked like *ET*!" She knew Clark was giving his aunt the benefit of the doubt. He was just so sweet, so *Clark*, but oh, that THING! Lois shuddered in remembered horror.
Clark sighed, not wanting to argue. "Just tell me where it is, Lois, so we can put it out and get back to our game." Recognizing the mulish look in her eyes, Clark changed tactics. "You know what? Don't tell me. I bet I can find it all by myself."
Clark lowered his glasses, and scanned the room, concentrating on the closet. Nope, not there. He gazed up, and through the ceiling above them. Now, where would Lois have hidden it? Aha! It was right there, way in the back of the guest bedroom closet, behind all those never-unpacked boxes. At superspeed, he zipped up the stairs and back down, statue in his hands. "Aw, Lois, he's kind of cute. With that pug nose, and that pudgy belly..."
Lois stared at him in disbelief. "Maybe the Lieutenant isn't the only wacko in your family," she said under her breath. She lowered herself to the floor and straightened the strewn cards back into a neat pile.
As Lois dealt the cards for the next, most likely final, round, Clark quickly set the 'statue' on the center of the coffee table and took his place on the floor.
Part 2
