From Chapter Five:The familiar flood of desire was clouding his mind. "Ni-" Oh. The White Orchid Ball, so many months ago, and his stupid attempt to impress her. "No, Lois - Shadima's virtue was closely guarded, I assure you. I'm learning this from you... only you..."
Her eyes, equally clouded with desire, met his. "You have a silver tongue, Clark Kent." She drew him closer, and soon his only thought was of the way their bodies moved together, in a harmony their minds could never reach.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Table of Contents Comments Chapter Six: Overs"I'll be back this evening."
Clark hesitated, and for a moment she wondered if he would kiss her; then he turned and left the bedroom. A few moments later, Lois heard the click of the outer door closing.
Drawing the bed covers closer around her, she snuggled into the nest of pillows. Her body was pleasantly tired and languid; her mind was churning.
But Clark had gone, neatly attired in his office clothes, with one of his usual gaudy ties, and for a few hours she was free of his mind games. Free to try and work out why she felt so... confused.
Not about getting pregnant, for all his efforts to change her mind. He'd said she had years ahead of her to take that step, but it was only months, and she had no doubt at all that it was what she wanted.
No, she was still determined to have this baby. So the clamour in her head had to be about... him. About her feelings for Clark himself.
He'd said that he didn't like the thought of anyone else sleeping with her. And silently she'd agreed with him. He only had to touch her for her body to burst into flame; the thought of anyone else touching her the same way... She shuddered, revolted.
So how, in two days, had she become so addicted to Clark?
And where did it leave her once she was pregnant?
That was easy - the same place as she'd always intended. On her own, raising her child alone. The overwhelming physical attraction she felt for Clark made no difference at all - it might make it harder to say goodbye, but it changed nothing.
More important was what happened if she didn't get pregnant with Clark. He was right - it didn't always happen at once, if at all, and he might decide at any moment that he'd had enough. In which case she'd have to find another father.
And she had to face up to it - given the way she felt about Clark, there was no way on earth she was going to sleep with anyone else. If she needed to find a different father, she was going to have to try a different approach altogether - ask him for a sperm donation and use artificial insemination, most likely.
Which raised a question she didn't want to face. Why hadn't she done that with Clark?
Oh, it had seemed a simple enough strategy at the outset - ask him out, get him tipsy to lower his inhibitions, invite him to bed, and when he was too far gone to change his mind, get him to sign the waiver so she'd be safe. If she hadn't misjudged her moment so badly, it might even have worked.
Only, she'd never really considered the repercussions... when they had to work together afterwards.
As they would tomorrow.
She'd known it would be difficult, maybe disastrous, and she'd pushed the knowledge to the back of her mind and refused to think about it. And she was starting to suspect, now, what her motive for that refusal had been.
She'd simply wanted to sleep with Clark. So desperately that the repercussions just didn't matter. She'd refused to admit, after that incident with the pheromone perfume, what had been staring her - and anyone else who'd been capable of paying attention - in the face: that she was overwhelmingly attracted to Clark. But at some level she'd known it, and her mind had come up with this convoluted plan for satisfying her desire.
Which left her feeling even worse than she'd bargained for. She'd known, when she'd planned her seduction-with-ulterior-motive, that she was being devious and underhand. She'd dismissed her qualms on the pretext that all Clark would really be interested in was the opportunity to get her into bed, and that he wouldn't care about the baby beyond being relieved that she wasn't calling on him to support or look after it.
Ever since he'd protested and then refused to do it, she'd known that she had been mistaken about him. She'd closed her eyes to that knowledge, too - because, after all, what option had she had? She had a very limited time to get pregnant, and then her chance would be gone forever. So she'd ignored what she was doing to Clark and forged ahead with the plan, piling one manipulation on another. Only to get caught in her own web...
He'd turned the tables on her in a way that she had to admit she richly deserved, and trapped her in a situation she'd never foreseen. She was his for the weekend, waiting here like a kept woman for him to return. A love slave... she had to giggle at the gothic phrase.
And she was loving it... the admission killed her momentary amusement. They'd made love more often than she would have believed possible, and she still couldn't get enough of him.
And now she had to face the fact that at some deeply repressed level of her mind, this was what she'd wanted. In spite of her conscious fear of sex, deep down she'd felt this desire for him all along. Deep down she'd known she couldn't give in to her feelings for him and still maintain her dignity, and yet she'd gone ahead regardless.
She'd all but admitted it to him, there in the bath earlier. Not content with allowing him to do what he liked with her body, she'd been on the brink of admitting openly the power he had over her. Just in case he hadn't already guessed.
The thought of what he would do with that knowledge frightened her. He was already playing mind games with her, trying to persuade her to change her mind about getting pregnant. So that he could maintain this sex game, no doubt - for as long as it amused him.
She shivered in spite of her cocoon.
No matter what her rational mind thought of him, when he touched her like that her defences just crumbled and vanished. If he didn't stop after the three days were over - if he kept pursuing her after they left the hotel - she wasn't sure she'd be able to resist him. And where that would leave their working relationship, her ability to hold her head up in the office, she didn't dare to speculate.
Men like him rarely stuck with one woman for long. She had to cling to that ray of hope. He'd get bored with her and move on to someone else, someone more exciting. Someone who offered more of a challenge.
His fling with Cat had lasted only the one night, it seemed. Of course, Cat was infinitely more experienced than Lois, and she would never allow herself to become entangled in this sort of power game.
Was she just being ridiculously paranoid, suspecting Clark of wanting to maintain a hold over her? Was she just overreacting badly to her own loss of control - and to realising that she was actually enjoying, had sought out, this humiliating situation?
She'd thought, that first night, that Clark was enjoying dominating her; but then she'd changed her mind. She'd decided their sexual relationship was purely about pleasure.
And then he'd started trying to manipulate her feelings.
He'd fed her that line about "learning from her" - as if she had anything to teach someone with his background!
But he'd run away from her last night, when they'd been arguing, and it had seemed obvious he couldn't deal with personal conflict - a far cry from relishing it the way he would have to do if he wanted to dominate her. Was he, after all, just a weakling like her father, with a transparent line in compliments?
Oh, she was so confused!
If he was toying with her, manipulating her, she had to guard herself against him - that was clear. Insofar as she could. He'd be back tonight, and she'd sleep with him again - because it might be this time she got pregnant, and because she just wouldn't be able to help herself. But she'd reveal as little of herself as possible, and pay no heed to his honeyed words. And in the morning she'd kiss him goodbye and make it perfectly clear she considered their relationship over - at least till next month.
And if he was a silver-tongued weakling, then the same applied.
There.
It seemed everything was perfectly simple after all. She didn't need to understand what motivated his confusing behaviour after all - it made no real difference to her actions today. And his reaction tomorrow would tell her as much as she needed to know, in order to get through the difficult days ahead. When she would have to work beside him, ignoring her attraction to him, and dealing as ruthlessly as she could with any attempt to seduce her back into his arms.
She sat up in bed, squaring her shoulders and stiffening her resolve. She'd get through today, and all the difficult days ahead, because she was a fighter. A survivor. Lois Lane didn't lie down and give up when the going got tough; she fought back and forged her own path through life. Even when she was fighting her own desire as well as opposition from other people.
She spent the day in the pool and the sun lounge, wishing that she'd brought a less trashy novel to while away the time. When the early sunset had faded from the sky, she finally yielded to the desire to drop the awful thing in the nearest rubbish bin and went back to the suite to shower - alone, this time - and arm herself for her last evening with Clark.
But the evening came and went, and there was no sign of him. Her second attempt to watch Basic Instinct ended when Sharon Stone tied Michael Douglas's hands to the bed frame, and Lois shuddered and switched off the TV.
If she recalled correctly, the movie ended with Douglas narrowly escaping being impaled by agreeing not to have kids. Lois's subconscious was beginning to scare her.
The hotel suite was deathly quiet around her. She had to face up to it: Clark wasn't coming. Either his qualms about getting her pregnant had finally won the day, and he was too weak and spineless to tell her so; or he'd decided that letting her stew in suspense, waiting for him to arrive, was more fun than coming back for more sex.
Either way,she'd had enough. She was going to bed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had taken hours to subdue the bush fire that had been raging out of control in the Australian outback, threatening the lives of thousands of sheep and other wildlife, and the livelihoods of dozens of stock farmers. It felt good to have taken part in the fight, but Clark's euphoria was mingled with bone-deep weariness.
And a healthy dose of apprehension. Goodness knew what Lois would thinking of his abandoning her a second time. It was almost two in the morning in Metropolis.
Clark showered off the distinctive smell of blue-gum smoke at his own apartment and changed into jeans, trusting that Lois wouldn't be awake - or, if she was, that she'd be too distracted by his behaviour to notice his change of clothes. When he arrived at the hotel, however, she was fast asleep.
Not, this time, peacefully. She was curled on her side as usual, but she was breathing erratically and now and again her hands would twitch as though reaching out for something in her dreams. As Clark shucked off his clothes beside the bed, a whimper from her sent an ache through his heart.
He climbed under the covers and settled his body in a curve around hers, a protective barrier between her and the world. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed with a sigh. Her breathing quietened.
He laid his arm along his side, wishing he could cuddle close to her but not wanting to disturb her sleep. The aching of his tired muscles slowly drained away, soothed by her presence.
After several long minutes she stirred and rolled over, her arms reaching automatically to wind themselves around his body. He responded gladly, gathering her close against himself at last.
"Clark..." she slurred. "Thought you... 'bandoned me."
He sighed and rubbed his cheek softly over her silken hair. "I couldn't stay away from you if I tried."
Silence. Then the faintest of snores. Lois had relaxed back into slumber, and this time it was quiet and peaceful.
After a long time, the sound of her heart beating next to his lulled him to sleep.
When he woke for his morning patrol, she'd rolled away from him again. That made it easier to get out of bed... easier in one way, at least. He lay for a while, missing the feel of her skin on his, before he could persuade himself to move.
Three days, he thought to himself as he took to the air behind the hotel. Three short days, and they were nearly over. He had so little time left to persuade her to change her mind...
... about getting pregnant? Going back to their old relationship as work partners - was that what he wanted?
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his own stupidity. He couldn't bear the thought of turning back the clock. Three days had changed him totally - he lived and breathed her presence now. No, he had to persuade her that what they'd found together was rare and precious, and they must hold onto it. Persuade her that, baby or no baby, they should stay together.
If she was still adamant on getting pregnant, he would help her - surely they could find a sperm donor somehow and do it that way. And then they would raise the child together. It wouldn't be his, but it would be hers, and that would be more than good enough for him.
He had to confess... everything. That he loved her, that he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her. That he wanted to marry her. That he would do whatever he could to help her have a baby, but that he himself was infertile. And then, if she accepted what he said, if she could forgive him for the way he'd deceived her... that he was Superman. That might soften the blow.
Or maybe he should put it the other way round. That he loved her, that he couldn't bear to leave her, that he'd only walked out on her the other night because he was Superman... that he wanted to marry her and help her raise her child, but since he wasn't human, she'd have to get pregnant some other way. That might make her more likely to accept him. He didn't like the thought that she might accept him only because he was Superman, but he was rapidly running out of time and options...
"No, stop! Help! Somebody help me!"
Turning in mid-air, he streaked towards the source of the cry. Superman to the rescue... it was what he did.
By the time he got back to the hotel, Lois was gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lois lay still, wondering what had woken her.
The outer door of the suite clicked shut.
Clark?
She lay listening, but there was no further sound. No approaching footsteps.
She sat up and looked at the other side of the bed. Yes, he had been here - she could see the indentation in the pillow. It was still warm.
It hadn't been a dream, then. He'd come in some time in the night, barely waking her, but soothing away her inner turmoil by his mere presence. Had he - no. Surely she'd have woken if he'd tried to do anything more than cuddle her close.
So he'd come in, long after she'd gone to sleep, and left again before she was awake.
No note this time.
More mind games? Or was he just vacillating between willingness and refusal to sleep with her again, finally deciding he couldn't face her anger and ducking out before the inevitable confrontation when she awoke?
Either way, she felt betrayed once again - even more so than when he hadn't arrived last night.
It was time to pick herself up and face reality - stop caring why he was behaving like this. Stop yearning for him to walk back through the door and sweep her into his arms. Start building her protective armour against him.
And the first step was to get out of this hotel room with its constant reminders of the last few nights and the ecstasy she'd experienced with him... and the distress she'd felt, still felt, at being without him.
She should be grateful to him, really, for running away again... she didn't know how, otherwise, she'd have found the strength to say goodbye to him. To what they'd shared together.
By seven she'd been home, unpacked and showered, and walked to work. The brisk exercise in the frosty air had left her feeling alive and tingling in every limb, full of energy for the day ahead. As though it had finally woken her from a dream state where she was helpless in the face of hostile forces. She wasn't helpless at all; she was Lois Lane, she knew her own mind, and before long Clark was going to know it too.
It was a while before he arrived at work. She sat at her desk, the suspense slowly twisting her stomach, completely failing to concentrate on her email. She found herself staring instead at the TV screens on the opposite side of the newsroom which allowed the reporters to keep an eye on the major news networks. LNN was in the middle of an item about Superman stopping an armed robbery at a convenience store some minutes before - no live footage this time, the excitement had been over before the camera team had got there - when something made her glance across the newsroom in time to see Clark emerge from the stairwell.
At once her heart was in her mouth. She looked away before he could notice her gaze.
He normally went to his desk to take off his coat, then came past her desk on the way to the coffee machine, to collect her mug and say good morning. It was time to act.
She picked up her mug and stood up, feeling her knees wobbling. Get a grip on yourself, girl... She squared her shoulders and walked steadily over to the break area.
There was already a cluster of reporters around the coffee machine, gossiping. She'd almost forgotten what it was like here, first thing in the morning - the whole reason she tended to avoid this area and was normally so happy to have Clark bring her her first cup.
She was on her own now.
The knot of people broke apart as she approached, giving her a clear path to the machine. Only a couple of people ventured a hesitant greeting as she filled her mug, and she muttered a grudging general "Morning" in response. Idiots - hadn't they worked out her cycle by now? It was at least another week before her temper would get really bad... and perhaps, this month, it wouldn't... She helped herself to creamer and sweetener, ignoring Jimmy's attempt to ask her about her weekend. If she told him a fraction of what had happened, his brain would probably explode, she thought mordantly.
Turning to head back to her desk, she found herself face-to-tie with... only one person would be wearing a design like that, she thought despairingly. She raised her eyes as far as his chin.
"Morning, Lois." The soft words woke a storm of emotion inside her. Ridiculous! She was being completely and utterly ridiculous!
She sucked in a breath. "Morning, Clark," she said flatly. "Excuse me, please."
Hyper-alert, she caught the tiny, instantly controlled flinch. She waited, not daring to breathe, for his reaction. "Lois, can we talk?" he said after a moment.
"I don't think we have anything to discuss," she said coldly. She hesitated, conscious of the listening silence around them. "All the information we need is in that... letter we got on Friday."
He didn't respond. She didn't dare look at his face; she checked her watch instead. "Anyway, don't you have to be at the courtroom in a few minutes for the Trevino trial?"
She pushed past him without waiting for an answer, and walked on wooden legs back to her desk. When she sat down and shot a covert glance around the room, he'd gone.
She should have felt relieved. Instead, she had to bite her lip hard to stop herself bursting into tears.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
.../tbc
