Dear Diary,


Check this out. My sister is too much.

- - - - - -

TO: Lane, Lois < llane@dailyplanet.com >
FROM: Lane, Lucy < ilovelucy311@freemail.com >
RECEIVED: Friday, May 17, 1:10 PM

Lois, I hate you! I can't believe this! I talk to you on the phone this morning and in the course of the 10 minute conversation, Clark, your BOYFRIEND, who is HOT, brings you coffee and then goes away, and five minutes later brings you a donut. Is that all he does? Does he stop there? No. He proceeds to then pass a note like children in the second grade do that makes you stop listening to me and laugh all giddily and giggly. I ask you 'what' a thousand times until finally you tell me that he had Jimmy Olsen pass you a note that said "just wanted to tell you that you look absolutely beautiful. And that I am so lucky. I love you."

Do you know what MY boyfriend did today? Oh, that's right, I don't have one. I was dumped last month and yesterday a guy on the subway (who has holes in his pants and I'm pretty sure doesn't own any underwear) asked me out. Well, better this way. Single life suits me sometimes. Well it'd better. I have no choice, do I?

I just hope you're grateful for what you have, Lois. You have the most perfect man alive bumping into things, he's so blinded by love for you and only you. It's the forever kind, too, I can tell.

Call me sometime when HE'S not around, please, so I don't have to sit there talking to my sister, thinking about the sad things in my own life!

Lucy

Ps- you know I'm kidding right? I am so happy for you! (Well, mostly... I do wish I wasn't still single, though.)

- - - - - -

Oh, Lucy... I am grateful. Believe me. You see, when I'm sitting there fretting about things like imaginary syndromes of the two-month variety, I see that things could most definitely be worse. They could be much worse. I have as Lucy says, "the most perfect man alive" falling all over himself because of me, and I am finding things to worry about where he's concerned?

I am Lois Lane. I laugh in the face of two months! AND I've gone nuts. Again. I think it's this book...

Anyway, Clark and I have organized our whole weekend. We are going to relax all day on Saturday. His parents will be in town for the day. I am not sure why they're just visiting for a day, but they are. Then Sunday, the actual anniversary, we are going to Santoni, a really nice restaurant. I am not sure what Clark is drinking that he thinks this is even remotely in our price range, but I guess he's thought this out, and he seems to have his heart set on doing certain things in certain locations on Sunday. So I'm game. Then we go to that mysterious place that is... quiet? I have no idea where/what that is.

Okay, I have to get back to work.

I wonder what he wants to talk to me about.


Dear Diary,


Oh my god! I am such an idiot! He wants to go somewhere way nicer than he/we can afford and do something "special" this weekend!! He has something he wants to talk to me about!!

Hm, let's think about this.

Lois Lane, top investigative reporter for the Daily Planet.

And I apparently need a house to fall on my head!

Clark is going to propose to me!

In two days!

I think my life just flashed before my eyes or something. I don't know, it's weird. I'm seeing stars, and I don't mean the ones in the sky or in the movies. I think Clark's noticed I don't look right.

And now he's heading over.

See ya.


Dear Diary,


It's Friday night now, and I am sitting at home, relaxing. Me and Clark are spending the night apart, as he said he had a lot of things to do. I guess he has to get everything ready for... well, for Sunday. That's fine. I am actually enjoying a few glasses of wine while I write. I am writing in my novel a little and then alternating that with this. I have to say, every other sentence from that leads me to a few more paragraphs in this. It's good though. That shock from earlier today wore off and now I am just wondering one thing...

What is wrong with me? I love Clark. I love him with my whole heart and body and soul and mind and whatever else you can love someone with. I mean, when I saw what life was like without him when he left for two weeks and I thought it was truly over between us (before it even began), you know, two months ago, I realized I wanted to be with him forever. And I even told him that, that wonderful day in the park.

Why would that notion, of spending forever with him scare me now? And then I realized. It didn't. It didn't at all. It actually made me excited. There could never be anyone in my life as in tune with my feelings and emotions and needs as Clark.

Like before, when he walked over because I looked all panicked, most likely, and pale.

He put his hand on my back and looked at me with concern. "You okay?" he asked.

I knew he was worrying about me, but I could also see nervousness in his expression. Poor thing; I am always running his emotions around in circles.

"I'm okay. Really. I just have a lot on my mind," I said truthfully. Because, come on, I really did have a lot on my mind.

"Anything I can help with or that you want to talk about or vent about?" he asked.

"No, not really. But I’m okay. Honestly. And thank god it's almost the weekend! I can't wait," I added, which made him release a little breath and smile.

"Me neither," he said, although even as he said that and smiled, he still seemed nervous. I guess when you're about to propose marriage to someone, you would be nervous. "And Lois, if I can help at all with whatever's on your mind, I'm just ten feet away, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

He walked back to his desk with his hands in his pockets and my heart just filled with this feeling that put all those worries from earlier to rest. Just quashed them and killed them. Here was a man who knew me so well and loved me so much. A man I could not live without and loved completely and irrevocably. From that moment on, I had healthy color in my face and was able to just focus on work and leave so I could have this nice, quiet night, writing in my journal... okay, diary... and working a little on my novel.

To think in two days my life might just be completely different.

It's... It's...

Wonderul.


Dear Diary,


It's now Sunday. Clark is picking me up in an hour, so I thought I would write a little in here. As I've said, I love Sundays! Yesterday was wonderful (in some ways I will elaborate on in a little bit), fun and... interesting. When I say interesting, I am referring to Martha Kent and something she said to me.

We had just had a wonderful lunch that Martha had made and were getting ready to go into the city to do some shopping. Well, the Kents wanted to do a little shopping. Clark and I were merely tour guides and company.

Clark said he'd go get the car and Jonathan said he'd go with him. Martha said she'd wait with me and meet them out front, to which I noticed Clark give his mother a warning-look I was all too familiar with. He shot me that same look every time we were on a story. And often when we weren't, actually. I am not sure why, though. I don't get into THAT much trouble.

Well anyway, I noticed the look and thought that was strange, but shrugged it off. Maybe he just likes to give that look out a lot or something, and to everyone, not just me. Maybe...

So Clark and Jonathan left and Martha and I were getting our coats on. Light jackets actually. It's still pretty cool, even though it's early May. And then she started talking and I think I started to understand Clark's look.

"Lois, it's been so wonderful these past two months, seeing you and Clark together. Finally! We just waited and waited for it to happen, ever since he first mentioned you when he moved to Metropolis," she said, laughing.

I laughed too. "I'm not sure why it took us so long, Martha. Actually I do know why. It was me. All me. I wish I'd caught onto that whole listening to your heart thing a little earlier," I joked.

"Oh, honey, it happened perfectly," she said.

I smiled as I slipped one hand in one sleeve of my jacket and prepared to do the same for the other. But Martha walked over to me with a look that stopped me from doing anything. She looked nervous and serious.

"Lois," she said solemnly.

"Martha, what is it?"

"Lois, tomorrow... just hear him out, okay?" she said, nervously.

I was shocked. Had Clark told his parents of his plans? Well, of course he probably did. He seemingly went to them for every little bit of advice. This seemed so foreign to me, but just because that was not how my parents and I operated did not mean that other families in the galaxy couldn't. And this family, the Kent family, definitely did.

"I... of course I will, Martha," I said, turning a little red, since we were, basically, talking about her son proposing to me. She was obviously nervous because she thought I might refuse him or something. And why not? Why wouldn't she think that? I mean, two months ago, I had broken his heart, sending him running off for two weeks to be alone, and he hadn't even told THEM where he went, which spoke volumes for the pain I had inflicted on him.

"It's just... oh, Clark told me not to say anything," she said, placing her arm gently on mine. "This is big, Lois, and please... just please promise me that you'll hear him out before you... uh, react too much," she said, having struggled a little for the right wording.

I felt so bad! I mean, the woman clearly thought that I might refuse him. Couldn't she tell how much I loved him? I tried to clear this up for her.

"Martha, in case you haven't noticed, I love Clark," I said, a sympathetic smile, that was more amused than honest, painted on my face. "I love him more than anything. You don't have to worry about anything."

She didn't seem all that relaxed after I said this, and I couldn't help but wonder just what she thought I really thought of her son. I'd just professed my love for him, what more did she want, that I love him written in blood on the wall? The whole thing seemed strange--almost cryptic--but I just figured, he's their only child and incredibly precious to them. Understandably. She just didn't want to see him hurt. Well, after tomorrow, she'd know that she had not had any need to worry at all.

Then we left the apartment to meet the Kent boys and go shopping. The rest of the day went by quickly. It was nice spending the day with the Kents. It was like a lesson for me in how normal families operate. No cutting putdowns or "constructive criticism" or condescending remarks or arguments. Just small talk and sharing opinions on items that someone was considering purchasing and joking and laughing. You know, Brady Bunch stuff.

Clark dropped his parents off at his apartment and said he'd drive me to my apartment (did I mention we were in the Kents' rental car all day?) and sit with me for a little while.

We kind of just drove in a comfortable silence. I looked out the passenger-side window watching the stars in the sky, and the lights from the cars behind us, seen though the side mirror. Clark reached his hand over the center armrest and took my hand, holding it on my lap wordlessly. Still, we didn't talk. We exchanged one sweet smile and sat, enjoying the peace and quiet of the calm night.

When we arrived at my place, he came inside, which I thought was strange since his parents were in town and for such a short visit. But he didn't seem to want to go.

As soon as the door was shut to my apartment, he pulled me into a hug. The hug seemed... desperate. Yes, I think that is the only way to describe it. When he first pulled me in, it was gentle (as always) and sweet... but then he didn't let go. He just held me in his strong arms, seeming so vulnerable and scared even. Resting my head on his chest, I let him rock me and hold me for as long as he needed to. Not that I minded. I love hugging Clark. It's a wonderful feeling. A feeling of belonging and loving. He's sexy and strong, but when we hug, he's Clark, my Clark and he needs me and loves me, the way I love and need him. It's an amazing feeling of connection.

He eventually pulled back enough to look into my eyes, a small smile on his face.

"I love you, Lois Lane. Do you know that?" he asked.

"Of course I know that," I told him, an amused smile playing across my lips. "Do you know that I love you?"

"Yes," he said, his gaze boring into mine.

I felt so bad. I could see some demons unknown to me tearing him up.

In an attempt to make him relax and be sure of the strength of my feelings (and just because I really wanted to), I reached up and kissed him. There was a lot of love in the kiss that I was rewarded with in return. And a lot of desperation. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my hand which rested on his chest. I'd never seen Clark like this. He was so scared. He wanted tonight to last forever, it seemed, because he was afraid of what would happen tomorrow.

Sometimes, more than words, kissing communicates volumes of our feelings for each other, me and Clark. I deepened the kiss, hoping to relax him. I walked him over to the couch, all the while keeping the kiss going. Once we were sitting, I pulled at him, so he'd lay on top of me, while we kissed. When we make out, this is usually the position we end up in. One of us on top of the other. I like it better when I can look up at him, my hair not obstructing the view by falling in the way. Nothing much happens besides some intense kissing and roaming hands when we make out. Clothing never gets removed or anything. He is Clark Kent, after all, ever the gentleman. And that's fine. With him, I always wanted to take it slow, so nothing could ruin it. Ruin us.

But on this particular night, something in his kiss seemed so anxious, desperate and even sad. I met his desperation with a passion all my own, and soon enough, we were getting a little further than we ever had before. The warm sensation I felt when I noticed his hand was roaming over my bare stomach sent shockwaves through me. My shirt had been pulled up a little, and his hand was on my stomach. That was it, my stomach! Not anywhere else! But it felt amazing, feeling him touching my skin. I reached my hand under his shirt and was rewarded with the feeling of warm skin underneath my hand. Hard stomach muscles and soft skin.

My Clark...

His hands started roaming everywhere from the waistband of my jeans to the straps of my bra, brushing over my breasts a little, in his explorations. I was, meanwhile, running my hands up and down his chest, starting to move his sweater and t-shirt together up, to take them off and be rewarded with a view of that amazing chest I was always thinking about. I didn't get that far, however, because his head shot up. I guess his conscience kicked him in the butt or something, because he pulled my shirt down nicely, before attending to his own.

"I'm sorry, Lois,” he said, reddening.

“Clark, it’s okay,” I said, also blushing.

He looked out the window, a conflicted look on his face. “I should go before this... before..."

Again, he looked sad, nervous, relieved and frustrated all at once. The range of emotions he can pull off, I swear, he should have considered acting.

"No, it's fine," I said, smiling shyly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He kissed me quickly and was out the door before I could even tell him one more sweet "I love you" to put his worries to rest.

Although I don't think all the I love you’s in the world could calm him down. But what a way to deal with nerves! A little making out. I like that medicine. Should we have more problems that lead to that solution! One can only hope!

Oh! Clark is here. Wish me luck! And wish him luck too! Poor thing's so nervous!

To think, next time I write in this I may be engaged to be married to the man I love!