LAST TIME...
When Lois emerged, she was wearing her pajamas: a baby pink tank top that left little to the imagination, and matching floral pants. Clark had to concentrate to keep his jaw from dropping. For the first time, he could appreciate her lovely figure. Sure, she was thin, but she was not lacking in soft, feminine curves or defined arm and shoulder muscles. She had a lazy smile on her face.
“I guess I was more tired than I realized,” Lois mused. She brought him a stack of pillows and blankets. “Here you go, Clark. Are you sure you don’t mind the couch?”
“Of course not. I’ll be right here if you need me for anything.” Clark grinned and wished her goodnight.
* * * * * NOW READ ON...
As tired as Lois was, sleep did not come easy. She tossed and turned in her bed, but could not get comfortable. As soon as she started to fall asleep, she’d hear something outside her window--people’s voices, a siren, a train--and she’d be right back at square one, trying to fall asleep again. An hour and a half passed, and she was desperate for sleep. ‘Maybe I’m just thirsty,’ she decided. As quiet as she could, Lois tip-toed past Clark and into the kitchen for a glass of water.
She was not quiet enough for Clark. He was beside her in the darkened kitchen in no time. “Hey. You okay?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep,” Lois whispered, disappointment in her voice.
Only the moonlight illuminated their faces. Lois studied Clark’s face. He looked so handsome. She could see him working on a solution to her problems. “I’ll take care of you, Lois.”
“Hey, why are we whispering?”
Clark shrugged. “I don’t know, it seems like the thing to do in the dark, in the middle of the night.”
‘I could think of other things,’ Lois thought, thankful that she hadn’t said that out loud.
Clark poured a glass of milk and set it in the microwave for a few seconds. “My mom used to do this for me when I couldn’t sleep. I have no idea if it really works, but I think it sort of helps. Here; drink.” Clark placed the glass in Lois’ hands, letting his hands linger over Lois’ for what seemed to be an unusually long time.
“Thanks, Clark.” Lois took a long drink. When she’d finished, Clark escorted her back to her bedroom.
“Come on, lay down,” he urged. “How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
“Good.” Clark tucked the sheets and blankets in all around Lois. He leaned over slowly and placed a soft good-night kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Lois.”
Lois didn’t reply; she had already fallen asleep.
* * * * *
Two hours later, Clark was awakened suddenly by what sounded like strangled cries. He rushed into Lois’ bedroom to find her writhing violently with a nightmare. She shouted almost-phrases aloud in her sleep.
“No, no--*please!* I can’t be--!” Her sheets were knotted around her. Her hands gripped the blanket in tight fists. “No--stop! That--*agh!*--hurts; stop--!” She was begging and thrashing as though she could fend off her imagined predator. Clark didn’t have a doubt as to what the nightmare was about.
He immediately sat on the edge of the bed and slipped his arm under her back. He lifted her shaking body into a sitting position. “Wake up, Lois,” he said gently. “Come on; wake up.” He hugged her close, rocking her a little and rubbing her back. It took Lois a few moments to snap out of it, but at last, her tense body relaxed in his arms.
“Clark--It was horrible!” she gasped.
“I know. You had me scared for a while there.” Clark ran his fingers through her hair softly.
Lois took a deep breath and tried to hurriedly regain composure. “I’m sorry. I feel really silly. This is... pretty embarrassing.”
“Don’t, Lois. You’ve had a really big trauma this week. Nightmares are a fairly common aftereffect.” Clark looked Lois in the eye. He could see the tears welling up, but she was fighting them. “You’ve been dealing with this so well. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m... really proud of you.”
“Well?! Well!? You think I’m dealing with this *well?*” Lois snapped. The tears finally coursed down her cheeks freely. “Don’t be proud of *me,* Clark!” Lois was in full-blown rant mode, gesticulating wildly. “I can’t *sleep* like a normal person anymore. I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a siren, or footsteps, or some sound outside my window! I cannot deal with this, Clark! I still haven’t talked to a single soul about what happened.”
“I’m here to listen if you need to talk,” Clark offered calmly.
“Well,” Lois started, “can you imagine waking up in the hospital, having no recollection of how you got there? The last thing I could remember was being on the subway train. Some man sat down next to me, and the next thing I know I’ve collapsed. Then I wake up in the hospital feeling terrible, and they tell me two days have gone by! What would you think if that happened to you?!”
“Honestly? I... don’t know,” Clark responded honestly. He rested his hand on top of hers, encouraging her to continue.
“I was convinced I was dying of some terrible disease. I mean, why else would I have collapsed on the subway, right?”
“Right.”
Lois lowered her voice, as though the words would seem less harsh that way. “And then... And then, they tell me I was drugged. And sexually assaulted. Clark, I--he took most of my clothes off, and he tried to--” Choked up, Lois covered her mouth with her hand, fighting more tears. “I couldn’t even fight back. I was completely unconscious. It’s--It’s not fair!”
“Lois, you’re right. It’s not fair,” Clark murmured, holding her close.
“All I know about what happened was told to me by someone else. I feel like, maybe if I knew--maybe if I could remember, I could deal with it better.” She cuddled closer to Clark’s warm body. “My mother told me to be grateful that I couldn’t remember. She seems to think I can pretend it never happened. But, Clark, I turn on the TV, and there it is. For God sake, I have to go for blood tests every six months for ten years now to make sure I don’t have AIDS! Isn’t that reminder enough?!”
Clark remained silent. What could he possibly say? He simply held Lois in his arms.
“I want to talk to Ian,” Lois whispered finally.
“Ian? Who’s Ian?”
“The homeless guy who found me. He--saw the Hyde and SEEC rapist.”
Clark looked at Lois with disbelief. “You can’t write this story, you know. You’re entirely too... close to it--”
“Clark. This is not for a *story.* This is for *me.* For my peace of mind. Will you come with me?”
“Of course I will, Lois. I... hope this is what you want. It might be... hard for you to hear.”
“That’s why you’re coming along.” Lois’ determined expression changed. “Clark, you agree with my mother, don’t you?! You think I’d be better off wondering what happened, and pretending it didn’t?”
“I didn’t say that--!”
“Well--you implied it.”
“I apologize.”
Lois had worn herself out arguing. She tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn.
“You need sleep, Lois.” Clark rose from the bed, getting ready to return to the living room couch.
“Clark, I’m scared.” She looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.
The nightmares. Right.
Clark sat down in a soft recliner in the corner of Lois’ bedroom. “I’ll sleep right here if you want,” he offered. Lois did not look convinced. “Here,” he extended a hand to her. “Come sit with me for a few minutes.”
Lois rose uncertainly. She walked over to the chair, allowing Clark to take her hand. He guided her easily, sitting her across his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, feeding her the warmth and protection she so desired. Lois softened in his arms, resting her head back on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck slightly. Clark rocked the chair slowly with his foot.
The ‘few minutes’ of sitting together turned out to be a whole lot longer. Lois fell into a peaceful sleep, and Clark didn’t have the heart to move her over to her own bed. Besides, it felt good to hold her close. Clark admired the woman in his arms. In the moonlight, she looked angelic. The cool light crossed her high cheekbones and down across her well-defined clavicles. She looked, he thought, like a modern version of a Renaissance painting: a perfectly-formed woman, beautiful, flawless, and ideal.
Clark had to fight the urge to kiss her sleeping lips. At the same time, he wanted nothing more than to help her through her ordeal. Toying with her emotions by getting romantically involved was a bad idea, Clark decided. He rested his cheek on the top of Lois’ head, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of her hair. He thought fondly of the little Thanksgiving meal they’d shared. His pleasant thoughts lulled him to sleep soon afterward.
* * * * *
“Superman! Help!”
Groggily, Clark awakened at the faint sound of a cry for help. His instinct was to leap up, spin into his Superman suit, and fly off. Blinking, he remembered he was not in his apartment. He looked down at Lois, who was still curled up in his lap, sound asleep. ‘No,’ he thought. ‘I can’t leave her, can I?’
He argued with himself. ‘She’s safe now... but someone else is in trouble.’
Still, guilt consumed him. Clark felt he had left Lois once before; he was not about to do it again. He had made a promise. Suppose Lois woke up scared? Suppose she realized he had left her? She would never believe one of his lame excuses in the middle of the night. What would she possibly think if she found he had left her? He couldn’t do that to her... could he?
Looking down at Lois, he decided she was sleeping fairly deeply. He was pretty sure he could pick her up and lay her in her bed without waking her up. Besides, the average call for help didn’t take *too* long to answer. He could theoretically be back by Lois’ side in minutes.
“Help! Police! Somebody!” A woman’s voice yelled again. Clark tuned in his super hearing, trying to assess what was happening on the other side of Metropolis.
Lois stirred slightly in her sleep, snuggling closer to Clark’s body. He looked down at her again. She was precious; a faint Mona Lisa smile played across her lips. She was getting some much-needed rest. ‘I owe this to her,’ Clark thought. ‘I have to keep my promise. I said I’d never leave. Besides, as Superman, I’ve let her down enough.’
Still, someone needed his help. His heart ached. Clark recalled telling Lois just today that Superman would never ignore a person in trouble. Torn, Clark wasn’t quite sure what to do.
He listened again. “He’s got my purse! Stop him!”
A mugging. The thief took the handbag and ran; there were no weapons involved. It wasn’t life-threatening after all. Clark heaved a great sigh of relief. The authorities could handle this one. From the sounds of it, they already were.
Clark stayed awake for a long time after the crisis had been averted; he wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing or not. Still, he knew he had not betrayed his friend. That thought, at the very least, was a comfort to him.
Also of comfort to him was a beautiful woman sleeping in his lap. A woman who trusted him with her safety. A woman who he couldn’t help dreaming about. Lois Lane. He was in love with her; there was no denying it. He had told himself time and time again, ‘Don’t get involved with her. Don’t get emotionally attached.’
Clark knew how cynical Lois was about love. Still, she showed him otherwise this past week. It was Clark she’d wanted to see, most of all, when she gained consciousness. It was Clark’s shoulder she cried on, many times over. And finally, it was Clark who she first opened up to, directly discussing her feelings about the attack.
Maybe there *was* something special going on between them after all.
* * * * *
Lois’ eyes blinked open, squinting in the sunlight. She didn’t dare move. She felt safe, warm, and loved. Clark’s arms were wrapped around her, keeping her close. She inclined her head to look at him, and was surprised to find that he was still asleep. His features were even more handsome up close, if that was possible. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d found the ‘Kansas farmboy’ very attractive, from the first moment she actually paid enough attention to notice him.
‘He looks different without his glasses,’ Lois thought, admiring her sleeping partner. ‘He looks like a little boy when he’s asleep.’ Lois leaned back sightly, nestling into the crook of his arm. She didn’t want to wake him, but most of all, she didn’t want this sweet moment to pass. It felt good to be in someone’s arms; it felt even better because that ‘someone’ was Clark.
Lois regretted putting a damper on what could have been a romantic evening. She wished for once that she could easily forget her newfound problems and insecurities, and simply seize the day. At the same time, she felt some relief from having opened up to Clark. She was embarrassed she’d cried again, but Clark had been so understanding. After all of the nice things he’d done for her, she was most upset about forcing him to put up with her crazy rants.
Still, her overall impression of last night was overwhelmingly good. Lois was certain she’d felt chemistry with Clark. She was pretty sure he felt it, too. The Thanksgiving meal was incredible, and not just because of the food. It was mostly because of Clark. There was nothing she’d needed more than a pleasant diversion, and Clark was the perfect person to cheer her up. She hoped he had realized how much she appreciated it.
She was lost in thought for over an hour when Clark finally opened his eyes. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said smiling. Waking up holding Lois felt amazing. He wiped the sleep from his eyes with his hand, then, realizing he was ‘undisguised,’ quickly donned his glasses. He was pleased to see Lois looking more well-rested and bright-eyed than she had since before the attack.
“Good morning, Clark,” Lois replied. Her sweet smile lit up the room. “Do you want me to make us some breakfast?”
“I’ll put on some coffee.” Clark had heard the rumors about Lois’ cooking. Perhaps *he* better make the breakfast.
* * * * *
