Table of Contents


From Part 9:


“Thanks.” I love you, he really wanted to say, but the time wasn’t right for that, he thought. As if by mutual agreement, neither of them had mentioned their feelings for each other since Luthor had kidnapped her at the farm.

And, of course, the nagging doubt he’d had about whether her feelings for him were as real as his for her... He was more confident of that now than he’d been before, after the way she’d sacrificed herself to protect him. But still. He had to be confident that she was sure.

“We need to decide on a name for you, too,” she was saying. Clark forced his attention back to the conversation.

“Well, one thing’s for sure: it’s not going to be Super Rescue Guy!” he insisted.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Lois winked at him. “You’re definitely pretty super.”

Something about the way she was looking at him told him that she wasn’t just talking about his abilities. And he felt warm inside again.


*********

Now read on...


The insistent sound of a telephone ringing woke Lois out of a deep sleep the following morning. As she came to a degree of consciousness, she heard Clark’s voice as he answered it. And then there was a pause, and a moment later she heard him call her name.

Dragging her eyes open, she looked up to see him peering around the corner of the bedroom. “It’s Inspector Henderson, Lois. He says he has to speak to you and it’s urgent.”

“Oh!” Now fully awake, she threw back the sheet and slid out of bed. Clark disappeared, clearly giving her privacy to pull some more clothes on. Checking her watch, she discovered that it wasn’t even six. She padded out into the kitchen, where Clark was waiting, dressed in a creased T-shirt and a pair of jeans he’d clearly only just pulled on.

“To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of a wake-up call from you, Henderson?” she drawled into the phone.

“Quit the smart talk, Lane. This is important.” His tone was sober, a clear sign that something was up.

“What is it?”

“There’s no easy way to say this. Lex Luthor was found dead in his cell this morning.”

There was a funny roaring sound in her ears. And suddenly the floor under her feet felt uneven, as if it was slipping away from her.

“Wha -? I must have fallen asleep again,” she muttered. “You didn’t say what I thought...?”

“Lois.” Henderson’s voice was sharp. “Listen to me. He’s dead. Luthor - your husband - is dead.”

Suddenly, Clark’s arm was around her shoulder. He was pushing her into a chair. She looked up gratefully at him; he was watching her, concern on his face. He mimed taking the phone from her, but she shook her head.

Lex was dead.

Dead.

She was free.

He wasn’t going to get punished for anything that he’d done. There’d be no trial. There’d be no public humiliation of the man who’d once been one of the most respected people in the country.

There’d be no trial. She wouldn’t have to give evidence, to stand up in front of a jury and the press and be pointed to as the most stupid woman in existence, who’d been tricked into marrying Lex Luthor so that he could continue to hide his criminal activities from her. She wouldn’t have to relate in open court how he’d pulled a gun on her, drugged her, marched her into the lake, tried to drown her...

She was free.

Her husband, the man she’d stood up beside in the cathedral only a couple of months earlier, whom she’d married with so many high hopes, was dead. The same man who’d terrified her, tried to kill her, turned out to have been a criminal all along...

She was free!

“Lois? Are you there?”

And she was shaking, suddenly, unable to control her reactions. The phone slipped from her fingers and, as if from a long distance away, she heard Clark’s voice.

“She’s here, Inspector. Yeah, just a bit shocked, I think... No, don’t worry. She’ll be fine... No, you had to tell her. And... well, no, I don’t think she did, not after what he did to her... How did it happen? ... Really? ... Okay. Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what?” The shaking had stopped and she was alert again, wanting to know what Henderson was telling Clark without her knowledge.

She heard Clark laugh briefly. “Yeah, that was her... No, I guess not.” A brief pause. “Lois, he wants to talk to you again.”

Lois held out her hand for the receiver. “Yes, Bill?”

“I just wanted to say, get yourself a good lawyer.” His voice was dry. “I’d guess the vultures will start descending pretty soon - and for once I don’t mean the press.” Just as she was about to ask exactly what he did mean, he added sardonically - and yet she thought she detected a note of sympathy beneath the biting humour - “You’re a wealthy widow, Lois. And he had a lot of business interests and people who are gonna assume they have a right to some of his assets.”

Oh, god, she hadn’t even thought of that! Everything Lex owned - well, probably most of it - was now hers. She was a multi-billionaire!

She took a deep breath. That was something she’d have to deal with later. “Thanks, Bill. For the advice - and for calling me yourself. I appreciate it.”

She could almost hear him roll his eyes. “Thanks from Lois Lane? This is a day I’ll have to mark on my calendar!”

“Yeah, well, commit it to memory,” she advised him, her equilibrium well and truly back in place. “Cause it's not likely to happen again in this lifetime.”

There was a click, and the connection was cut. Lois hung up and turned to Clark.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding cautious.

“He’s dead,” she said, knowing she sounded as if she barely believed it. “Lex... he’s dead!”

“I know.” Clark reached for her hand, held it between his two. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It was just a shock.” She took a deep breath. “I can barely believe it, Clark! After everything... he’s dead!”

“At least you won’t have to go through a trial now,” he said quietly, and she could see that he was watching her carefully. His expression was guarded, though, and she wondered what was on his mind.

“No. I was just thinking that.” She got up and went into the kitchen, finding mugs. Clark took the hint and began to make coffee. “I said I’d give evidence, and I meant it. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous of what that would mean. The whole American news media finding out what an idiot I was...”

“You brought him down, Lois,” Clark pointed out.

“We brought him down,” she corrected him. “You found the stolen art and recognised it for what it was. You called in Dr Jill and Rachel Harris. And without you I wouldn’t even be here.”

He smiled again, but it was faint.

“Clark? What is it?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and she could see hesitation in his expression. After a while, he said, “I’m just wondering how you feel about this, that’s all.”

“Shocked,” she said immediately. “But...” It was her turn to hesitate. After all, Lex had been her husband. No matter what he’d done in the last few days, she had been married to him. She’d made love with him. Known him - physically, at least - in the most intimate way it was possible to know another human being.

“It probably sounds terrible,” she said quietly. “But I’m not sorry that he’s dead. I’m... relieved.”

She heard Clark release a breath, and suddenly she knew what his problem had been. He’d been afraid that Lex’s death could make her realise that she still had feelings for him. As if that could possibly be true! How could she feel anything other than loathing for the man who’d tried to murder her? Who’d kidnapped her and held her prisoner, terrorising her by deliberately not telling her what he planned to do with her?

“If I have any regrets at all,” she continued as the thought struck her, “it’s that I never got to see him after he was arrested. So that I could tell him what I think of him. And how glad I am - was - that he was going to be put away for at least some of what he’d done.”

“Yeah.” Clark picked up the carafe and began pouring. “He’s managed to escape that fate.”

“Which reminds me... I meant to ask Henderson.” Lois reached out for one of the mugs, deciding to take her coffee black this morning. She needed it. “How did it happen? How did he... die?”

“Suicide, they think.” Clark sipped his coffee, and she could see him watching her warily over the rim of his cup. He still wasn’t comfortable, she realised. “A guard checked on him this morning and found him stretched out dead on the floor. The light-fitting had been taken apart, and there was water spilt on the floor.”

“So he electrocuted himself?”

“Looks like it. Though Henderson said they’re checking the surveillance videotapes just to be sure there was no-one else involved. It fits, though. He said somebody reported hearing the tail-end of his conversation with his lawyer yesterday. The lawyer was trying to tell him that he’d probably have to spend at least some time in jail, and Luthor said something like ‘I will not live in a cage.’ So it looks like he meant it.”

“I’m not sorry,” Lois said again, savagely this time. “He deserves to be dead. If he could set out to kill me so casually, how many other people has he killed?”

Clark pulled a face. “I wondered that myself.” He took another gulp of coffee, then ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “So, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a moment, and then a broad smile curved across her face. “I need to do three things. Third, follow Bill’s advice and get a lawyer. Second, call Perry and tell him to get ready to rebuild the Planet and come back as editor. Oh, and to hire a brilliant reporter called Clark Kent to work as my partner - that’s if you still want to?”

A wide smile creased Clark’s face. “Oh, I would love to, Lois, believe me!” Then he crooked a brow. “And the first thing?”

She put down her cup and advanced on him. “I think it’s escaped your notice that I’m not married any more, Clark. So the first thing I need to do is...” She raised her hands to his shoulders, drawing him towards her. He let her, his gaze following her every movement. “...This.”

And, stretching up, she pressed her lips to his for their first kiss.


***********

Clark had known that kissing Lois would be amazing. He just hadn’t appreciated how earth-shattering the very first touch of her lips against his would be. He groaned against her mouth and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer.

Her lips were as soft and sweet as he’d imagined in his dreams. This was better, far better, than it had ever felt to hold her before, because this time he was holding nothing back. He didn’t have to remind himself that he couldn’t get close to her, couldn’t kiss her, because she was married.

He broke the kiss briefly, ignoring her moan of protest, and slanted his lips over hers at a different angle to allow himself better access. Her arms tightened around him and she parted her lips beneath his, inviting him inside. And he accepted the invitation.

No kiss he’d ever experienced in his lifetime had come even close to this. No sensation, even flying, was anywhere remotely as amazing. Kissing Lois was simply the most sensual experience of his life.

Her closeness, her touch, her taste, the sensations she was wreaking in his body... he felt as if he was flying, only far, far better.

And then he realised that he was flying. Or, rather, floating. They were a couple of feet off the ground and in danger of bumping against the ceiling.

He slid his mouth away from hers, gliding his lips over her cheek. “Oops.”

She blinked and looked around, and he felt her soft laugh against his hair. “Oops,” she echoed.

“Let’s get more comfortable,” he suggested and, without waiting for a reply, flew them into the living-area and sat on the sofa, pulling her onto his lap.

“Oh, much better!” she agreed. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she moved in for another kiss.

“You don’t waste much time,” he managed to say before her lips covered hers again.

She broke the kiss briefly to say, against his mouth, “We have days of kissing to make up for.”

Oh, yeah. They did. And he had no complaints about that. Stroking her back and hair with hands which were almost shaking with the emotion he felt, he proceeded to show her just how desperately he’d been longing to kiss her over the past few days.

Just as she was showing him. And he could barely contain the joy and relief he felt at the knowledge. She still wanted him. Oh, he’d seen the frustration and the longing looks she’d been giving him occasionally over the past couple of days. He’d been aware that she’d wanted him to kiss her. But still, he hadn’t been able to help himself; he’d wondered whether the feelings she professed for him would pass. Whether she’d realise that she’d really just been grateful for his help, and that, together with the sense of comradeship they’d felt on the beach, had made her think she was in love with him.

But this was several days later, and she still wanted him.

Worst of all had been his feelings when he’d heard Inspector Henderson tell her that Luthor was dead. That her husband was dead.

No matter what the man had done to her, he’d still been her husband. She’d still been his wife. They’d been a couple. She’d believed that he loved her, and she must have had feelings for him. Perhaps she’d even believed that she loved him at one stage. So, he’d thought, she would grieve his death, surely?

But apparently not - not that he could blame her one bit.

She groaned against his mouth again, and he smiled inwardly, turning all his attention back to Lois and their kiss. She deserved one hundred percent of his attention, and she would get it.


*********

A long time later, Lois sighed and ended the kiss, tucking her head into Clark’s shoulder. “That was worth waiting for.”

“Yeah?” His tone was teasing, but there was also something else... a note of uncertainty, perhaps?

“Oh, definitely! You’re something special, Clark Kent. And...” She hugged him. “...I’m just very, very grateful that you want to be with me.”

“Oh, I do, I swear!” he exclaimed. “And... you? Do you still want to be with me?”

So that was it. He was still unsure of her - which she could understand, she supposed, given that they’d only known each other a little over a week and she’d been married to someone else until a very short time ago. “Clark,” she said softly. “I told you a few days ago that I’ve fallen in love with you. My feelings haven’t changed.”

“Yes, I know.” His lips traced a path from her jaw to her earlobe. “But still - it’s a big step. In a very short time.”

He thought she was in danger of falling for him on the rebound, then. Well, she supposed that he was right to be cautious. After all, she’d been asking herself only a few days earlier whether she could be completely sure of her feelings this time.

She could only be as honest with him as she knew how.

“I’m as sure as I can be, Clark. But... will you understand if I want to take things slowly?”

“Slowly?” he questioned, straightening and giving her a concerned look.

She missed the feel of his lips on her skin instantly. “Not that slowly!” She bent and touched her lips to his again. “I just mean... I made the wrong decision a few months ago, Clark. Married someone I never should have even been dating. I... didn’t know my own mind. My judgement was completely flawed. I... don’t want to rush into a serious relationship again - I want to be completely sure first.”

“So, what are you saying?” he asked quietly. “You want us to stay friends for a while first? Get to know each other better? I guess that would be sensible...”

“Are you kidding?” she exclaimed. “Now that I know what a wonderful kisser you are, you want me to forgo this?” Again, she kissed him; this time he groaned and kissed her back.

“Then what do you mean?” he asked as she pulled away.

“That we spend a long time being just boyfriend and girlfriend?” she suggested. “I mean, I don’t know where you want this relationship to go. But I’d like to get my own place and then just date. And kiss, and touch, and have fun together...” But she wasn’t ready to make love. Not yet. Feeling kind of shy about raising *that* particular subject with him, especially since they’d only just had their first kiss, she hoped he’d understand what she was trying to say.

He stroked her hair, then combed his fingers through a few strands. “I understand,” he said, smiling. “And as long as I know you want to be with me we can take it as slow as you like. Dating can be a lot of fun.” He grinned. “How’d you like a long walk on a beach in the moonlight? On a deserted island in the Indian Ocean?”

She had to catch her jaw before it dropped. Dating Clark Kent was going to be very interesting, it seemed.

“It sounds wonderful,” she whispered, before moving in for yet another kiss from the man she loved.


**********

~ Six Weeks Later ~


“Hey, CK! I got those printouts you wanted.”

Clark smiled up at Jimmy Olsen as the younger man approached his desk. When he’d met Jimmy a little over a month ago, once he’d been released from prison, all charges against him struck from the record, he’d immediately liked Perry’s young protege.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the papers and beginning to scan them. “Nice work.”

“Glad to help. Hey, where’s Lois?”

Clark glanced over at Lois’s desk. Even though the Planet had been properly up and running again for the past three weeks, he still had to pinch himself sometimes to remind himself that this wasn’t just a dream. He really was working for the best newspaper in the world, under the best editor he’d ever had the privilege of meeting, and partnered with Lois Lane, who was the best.

“She had another meeting with the lawyers,” he explained with a wry smile. Those meetings had been taking up a lot of her time lately. Though it was all necessary, of course.

Lex Luthor’s estate was taking a great deal of time and effort to sort out. Of course, there were the legitimate accounts for the above-board companies. There were the legitimate bank accounts, stock holdings and so on. But there was also the not-so-legal stuff. Stolen property which had to be returned. Secret bank accounts and deposits of gold bullion which were definitely not Luthor’s by right. And, of course, even money in the legitimate bank accounts which had got there by illegal means.

The police were still combing through every aspect of Luthor’s business and finances, and would be for some time to come. Some funds had been declared not part of the investigation, however, and had been released to probate; probate having been completed a week or so ago, Lois was now a millionaire several times over, with the prospect of many more millions to come once the police had finished their work.

One of the first things Lois had done, with the co-operation of her lawyers, had been to deal with the fact that many people had been hurt by her late husband in ways which weren’t necessarily illegal. She’d had her lawyers issue a notice to the effect that anyone who felt that they had been damaged by Lex Luthor in any way had a month to bring their claims forward. They would then be investigated and compensation, if appropriate, agreed upon. The police, her lawyers and people elsewhere in the media had said that she was foolish to entertain those sorts of claims, but Lois had insisted. As she’d told Clark, every penny of Luthor’s money felt like ill-gotten gains to her.

“It’s dirty money, Clark. Even the legit stuff. He hurt so many people - every day I’m finding out more about the sort of things he did. I don’t want his money, but I want to make sure that it’s used wisely to compensate the people he hurt.”

And so today’s meeting was another one of those, Clark had assumed when Lois had mentioned it. He thoroughly approved of what she was doing, and he’d been pleased to see that her acts of benevolence, as they were regarded by some sections of the press, had gone a long way towards redeeming her in the media and business community.

She’d had a tough time in the immediate aftermath of Luthor’s death as the full extent of his crimes began to be known; some parts of the media had portrayed her as a shallow gold-digger who’d married Luthor uncaring whether he was what he appeared to be or not, and who’d profited hugely from her brief marriage. Never mind that those sections of the media had not only never suspected that Luthor was a criminal, but had lauded him in their columns for years. Suddenly, they had a new bogeyman and, since the principal target was dead, they found a living substitute in Lois.

For the first few days, she’d been the biggest story in town. Everywhere they’d gone, they’d had to run the gauntlet of TV cameras and photographers and reporters; he’d had to take great care when leaving or entering his apartment by air while she’d still been staying with him. But then a new story had come along, taking most of the attention away from Lois. She’d been able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Not so Clark; he’d been the new story.

Superman had come to town.

He smiled, allowing his attention to drift further from the printouts as he remembered. His parents had been dubious at first, but then pleased for him; his excitement about the possibilities which a disguise offered had been contagious. When his mom had produced the stylised S emblem from his blanket and sewn it onto the blue and red costume, Lois had grinned triumphantly.

“See? I told you! S for Super Rescue Guy!”

He’d rolled his eyes and growled at her; his parents had laughed.

“Actually,” Lois had continued, “I think Superman works better.” And, despite his rolling his eyes again, his parents had agreed.

When he’d made his first appearance in the Suit a couple of days later, Lois had been there to christen him - quite how she’d managed to be on the scene of the fire he still didn’t know. Perry had said something about her radar for news stories, and he was quickly learning that that was true.

The Planet hadn’t been officially back in business then, but somehow, between them, Perry and Lois had got hold of a printing press and they’d produced a special edition of the Planet to herald the arrival of the Superhero - giving it away free, because it was good advertising for the fact that the paper would be returning soon. And Clark had been very grateful for that article. It had all the hallmarks of a typical Lois Lane piece: incisive, questioning and getting as much of the facts as possible; but at the same time she’d presented Superman, as she’d called him in the article, as someone who was there to help, who performed miraculous feats but wanted to use his abilities for the good of humanity. She’d finished her article with the comment that only time would tell if Superman’s intentions were really as good as he claimed, but that by saving four lives in the inferno he’d come to help out at he’d made a very good start.

Superman, then, had replaced Lex Luthor’s widow as the hottest news story around. Clark still felt nervous every time a microphone or tape recorder was pushed under his nose by a reporter when in the Suit, but so far nobody had even stopped to wonder whether the new hero had another identity at all, much less question who could be behind the disguise.

Only a very small number of people knew the secret. His parents and Lois, of course. And Rachel; a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken Lois to meet her at last when they’d been in Smallville. As they’d been leaving, Rachel had murmured with a wink, “Nice new job you’ve got yourself.” He’d simply smiled.

They’d run into Doc Jill on that visit as well, he remembered. Lois had been very anxious to thank the doctor for her help in getting the evidence which would have gone a long way towards convicting Luthor for murder. Another good thing had come out of that incident, Clark thought with a smile; Jill was now dating Tom Newton, the town vet.

There was a sudden clatter as a pencil landed on the desk next to his arm.

Startled out of his thoughts, Clark’s head shot up, but he grinned delightedly when he saw who had thrown it. “Lois! I thought you wouldn’t be back for a while yet.”

“Managed to get the business finished sooner,” she said, looking very pleased about it. “And, even better, this will be the last meeting for quite a while.”

“Excellent!” He knew how she felt about the endless bureaucracy. “Want a coffee?”

“Sure. If you can afford to buy me one,” she teased.

He gestured towards the Planet’s coffee machine. “Unless that’s not good enough for my millionaire girlfriend...” He winked, reminding her that he was simply teasing about his reference to the money she hated.

“If you’re only in this for the money, you might want to think again,” she told him with a grin as they walked together to the coffee area. “This girl only has her paycheque to her name.”

“Huh?” Taken aback, he stared at her.

“Right as of now, I don’t have any of his money any more.” And she looked incredibly pleased about it.

“Yeah?” Delighted as well, Clark slid his arm around her shoulders and hugged her briefly; they tried not to indulge in too much open affection in the newsroom. “So what’d you do? Sign it all over to Justice for Victims or something?”

“Oh, Lex would’ve hated that!” Lois laughed. “But better. The Police Benevolent Fund got a very large anonymous donation. MetU now has a fully-funded scholarship scheme for its journalism programme. Suicide Slum is getting a night shelter. And a few other things like that. All anonymous - not one of them will have Lex’s name attached. That’s what he’d have hated most, you know? He gave fortunes to charity, but all of it was done with a huge splash. He loved picking up the kudos it gave him.”

She accepted the coffee he poured for her. “Best of all, I set up the Daily Planet Trust.”

“What’s that?”

“A way of owning and funding the Planet - it’s based on the Scott Trust, which owns a big newspaper company in Britain. Instead of shareholders, there’s a board of trustees to administer the paper. And I put plenty of money behind it, so the paper will never have to go begging to shareholders again dependent on the whim of the stock market...”

“...or somebody’s manipulation of it,” Clark said dryly.

Lois nodded. “Anyway, the lawyers are working on setting it up now and they have a list of people to approach to be on the board. I’m staying out of it - I never wanted to own the paper anyway.”

No, she hadn’t, Clark knew, and she’d taken some ribbing, and worse, from colleagues around the Daily Planet and from other media organisations. There’d been veiled suggestions that, after her failure to see Lex Luthor for what he really was, the only way she’d got a job at a newspaper was by buying her own. That had made Clark furious; he’d actually wanted to punch the guy who’d come closest to saying it. But he’d found a better way of helping; he’d ensured that most, though not all, Superman exclusives since the re-opening of the Planet had gone to Lois, and had let it be known that it was because of his admiration for her work.

“So,” Lois continued, “I’m not rich any more. I don’t even have any of the things he bought me.”

He knew that; once the police had allowed Lois to go back into the homes she’d lived in with Luthor, she’d collected a very small amount of personal items from each and ordered the rest to be given to charity. From the beach house she’d only wanted her laptop, and that only to salvage the book she’d begun in the week he’d met her.

She was still working on the book in what little free time she had. It had changed emphasis, however; now, as she’d put it to him, it was a story of mistakes to avoid in journalism. Oh, she’d still included the positive stuff; how she’d made a success of her first few years, the winning of her Kerths and so on. But she’d been determined to be brutally honest about what she’d done wrong, too. And Clark and Perry were supporting her in it. She needed to do it, Perry had commented, in order to forgive herself for the mistakes she’d made.

“So,” Clark said, sipping his coffee and smiling warmly at her. “Could I tempt my newly-poor girlfriend to an exotic meal tonight? Seeing as you can’t afford to buy your own dinner...”

She laughed. “Well, that depends. What kind of exotic meal?”

“Well, I was thinking... You know some people eat ants and grasshoppers in southern Mexico?”

He laughed at Lois’s look of revulsion. “Suddenly, a Kraft Dinner sounds appetising!” she exclaimed.

He relented. “Seriously, I thought we could take a trip to the Bahamas. Dinner and a walk on the beach?” He’d quickly realised that Lois seemed to love moonlight strolls on the sand just as much as she’d loved walking with him on the beach in Canada.

“Sounds wonderful.” She smiled dreamily. “You know, if this is your approach to taking it slow, Clark, let’s stay at the dating stage for... ooh, the next ten years?”

“Ah, but you haven’t seen me when I move into serious relationship stage yet,” he pointed out. “Ever flown through the Aurora Borealis? Or over the Limpopo Falls? Or seen Sydney from the air?”

Even as he said it, it occurred to him that he wasn’t offering her anything very different from things she could have done with her husband, if he’d offered and if she’d wanted it. After all, with the money he’d had at his disposal, Luthor could have taken her anywhere in the world. Exotic locations weren’t new to Lois.

She seemed to work out what he’d been thinking. “Even if I had - which I haven’t,” she said softly, “I’ve never done them with you, Clark. And that makes all the difference.”

Regardless of the fact that they were in the newsroom, Clark leaned over and kissed her. “I love you, Lois Lane,” he murmured as they moved apart again.

“And I love you.” She turned so that she was facing away from the bullpen, and he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “You set me free, Clark. Without you, I’d still be somewhere on a beach, living a nightmare of a life while still trying to pretend that I was happy. You showed me what real happiness could be.”

He caught her hand, holding it tightly between his two, a lump in his throat. “You helped me to find freedom too, Lois,” he said, in little more than a whisper. “Without you, I’d still be hiding what I could do, getting torn apart with guilt every time an emergency happened where I could’ve saved lives. You gave me the courage to do something about it.”

Her fingers stroked his face; moved, he bent to kiss her again. And, even though whistles and catcalls echoed through the newsroom, he knew that neither of them cared.

They were in love, and love deserved to be shared.


~ The End ~

Merry Christmas and Season's Greetings, everyone!

Just a fly-by! *waves*