Okay, so it’s not the ATKH sequel, but... it’s something. <g>
A few notes about the timeline. It’ll become obvious fairly early that this is set during All Shook Up. In my universe, ASU aired as the 12th episode, and hence Honeymoon in Metropolis was before ASU.
I wouldn’t normally post an unfinished story, but
Sara\'s fantastic trailer convinced me to set a date, so to speak. I recommend watching this before reading the story, since... well, it's better than the actual story. <g>
As always, more so now because the story hasn’t been completed, feel free to tear into this. All types of comments are welcome.
The detailed thank you list will be posted with the final chapter, but quickly...
My band of BRs - Sara, Sorcha, Sas, Jackie and Yvonne... You’ve all been fantastic beyond words. I’d never have been able to write this without your input. A special thanks to everyone on IRC who listened to me ramble and helped me brainstorm - Julie, Mere, Rat, Wendy, Carol, you were lifesavers.
This story is dedicated to Sara. Happy birthday, Krafty.
--
An Affair To Remember
by David--
He shifted on the hard wooden chair, looked around the sparsely furnished room and quietly rattled off the names of the items.
“Chair... table... mirror...”
The swell of frustration caused the knot in his stomach to coil tighter and his hands to clench on the grimy table top. He *knew* what a chair was...
He knew so much, but at the same time... he didn’t. He just didn’t know. He couldn’t remember the important things, and it frustrated him. He glared at chair on the other side of the small table and ran an agitated hand through his hair.
Why didn’t he know who he was?
He *should* know who he was. After all, that wasn’t something you were supposed to forget. It wasn’t like he’d misplaced his keys or forgotten to turn the oven off...
His eyes darted around the room, the oppressive grey walls looming over him. The chair scraped backwards as he stood quickly and strode over to the mirror on the opposite wall. Five full strides. Just like the time before, and the time before that. The walls weren’t closing in on him. He wondered again if he might be claustrophobic...
He sucked in a deep breath. He was fine. Really.
He was just locked in a crumbling interrogation room at the Metropolis Police Department and he had no idea who he was.
Yeah, he was fine.
Or he would be, if not for the niggling feeling in the back of his head... he knew he had to be somewhere. Somewhere important. Doing something important. He just... he couldn’t remember what that was or where he was supposed to be.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. Where did he need to be? What did he need to do? But the effort was in vain. Every time he closed his eyes and tried to remember, all he saw was a vast darkness broken up by tiny splinters of light flashing in front of him, gone as fast as they appeared. Hurtling past him like bullets... Memories, just out of his reach. He knew if he could grab one, hold onto it... understand it... just one of the tiny specks...
He opened his eyes slowly and a quiet sigh escaped as he regarded the stranger in the mirror. The empty eyes that stared back haunted him.
“Who are you?” he mumbled at his reflection.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He should be somewhere doing something, not stuck in an altogether too small room at the police department. Locked in like a criminal.
“Clark?”
The voice startled him. He spun around quickly and... froze. His breath caught in his throat and warmth... warmth he could remember on an elemental level, blossomed in his chest and spread through him. It wasn’t just that she was the most beautiful creature he was sure he’d *ever* seen... it was the feeling of... rightness he got just from looking at her. From being in the same room as her.
He recognised the tingling feeling spreading through him.
He knew her.
He lo... he... Lois.
He *knew* her.
“Lois?”
Her face lit up, and his heart skipped when she smiled at him.
“You remember me?”
He felt a grin spread across his face as he nodded his head. He might not remember a lot of things... he might not remember who *he* was, but how could he forget *her*?
She was his wife.
--
Clark smiled and slipped his hand back into hers as they boarded the elevator. He felt her tense before she relaxed and shot him a worried look.
“You’re going to be fine, Clark.”
“Yeah...” Clark trailed off.
Every time he’d touched her she’d tense... he didn’t understand. Surely they’d been very affectionate, he *loved* touching her... the warmth of her skin next to his. The way his heart raced... It couldn’t be because he needed her, couldn’t be because she was the only anchor he had. It *had* to be because she was nervous... he’d lost his memory, his identity. She was just nervous and worried about him...
They were happy. He was sure.
Memories, snapshots in time, had started to flitter back into his mind after he’d recognised her in the interrogation room... Precious moments of their lives together, unveiled behind his closed eyelids. Their first kiss. Their first dance. Their wedding. The first time they made love...
His eyes drifted towards her abdomen... their... the moment she’d told him about their baby. He could feel the smile spreading across his face. They were going to name him Jon, after... after...
He scowled. He couldn’t remember.
Dr. McCorkle had said it’d take time, that he needed to be patient, but time was not a luxury he had. Lois had filled him in about the asteroid on the drive over... she’d filled him in about a lot on the drive over. At the time he’d let her flow of words wash over him, revelling in the feeling of familiarity her babble bred in him, but the enormity of their situation was starting to sink in. He let his eyes settle on her still flat stomach... time wasn’t something anybody had a lot of anymore.
The ding of the elevator pulled him out of his morose thoughts. He followed Lois submissively as she led him into the bustling newsroom. She’d sounded so sure earlier when she’d told him that Superman would save them... so certain. He had to trust that, to trust her. He had to trust that everything would work out and in the mean time... he had a life to rediscover.
The newsroom was pulsing with energy and he fought the urge to cover his ears or shield his eyes. His senses were working on overdrive, overloading him with lights and sounds and smells...
“Are you ok, Clark?” Lois asked, squeezing his hand. He imagined he could feel her heart beating between their clasped palms.
He opened his mouth, but the words were lodged in his throat.
“I...”
And then it was over, the moment had passed. The sounds returned to normal, the brightness turned down a notch, the smell of the coffee brewing on the other side of the room gone. Back to normal, only everything seemed... muted. Less than it was before.
“Clark?” She sounded worried.
“I’m fine, Lois,” he reassured her. “I’m just... remembering what it feels like to be in here.”
“It can be a little overwhelming,” she said, offering him a small smile, dropping his hand and moving further into the newsroom.
The rush of sensation... he wasn’t sure what it was. It felt like so much more than a memory... a panic attack maybe. He’d certainly felt panicked... but it felt so real.
“Look familiar?” Lois asked, standing at a desk and holding up a name plate emblazoned with the name of a man he couldn’t remember how to be. Clark Kent. In black and gold lettering, smooth beneath the pad of his thumb. Substantial proof of the life he had, the life he had to get back to - not only for his benefit, but for the sake of the woman standing next to him.
“I’m sorry. No.” He tried not to let his frustration show, but it was difficult... they had so little time left together... too little time to rebuild a life.
“Well, you always get a donut when you come in,” she continued without missing a beat, “you usually like these cake things.”
The tension bled out of his shoulders. He might not know who he was, he may have lost his identity, he might die, trapped eternally in a state of confusion, but... he felt like the luckiest man alive. How many men got to fall in love with their wife twice? She was being so strong, so solid... he felt the warmth spreading through him, soothing him. He loved her so much.
“This one’s a little stale,” she said, offering him the donut. “Are you hungry?”
“I can’t really remember...” he trailed off. He wasn’t hungry but he accepted the donut and tried to smile.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, as she scurried around to the other side of the desk. “You keep an extra pair in here.”
He popped half the stale donut in his mouth and grimaced as she searched through the drawer. She handed him a pair of glasses he didn’t need and he slipped them on. It felt so natural that he didn’t question it. Simply handed back the pair Henry had given him and slid on the new set.
“Now look at me, Clark,” she began, placing her hands on his arms. Initiating contact for the first time. “You really don’t remember anything else?”
“I remember you, Lois. I remember us.” He said, shaking his head. “And I guess... some random crumbs of nothing are starting to come back. But beyond that...”
Her brow crinkled. “You remember us?”
“Yeah... and we’re a reporting team. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Well, I’m more like the senior partner,” she clarified.
He nodded his head. That made sense. He could tell already that she was very take charge and in control.
“So you call the shots?”
“You could say that,” Lois said, grinning at him.
“Ok... so what do I do?” He asked, eager to get his life back together.
He watched her face change, her lips slide from a smile to a grimace.
“We’re full partners, nobody works for anybody.” She said, letting out an annoyed growl. “Although I do think in the immediate future you should follow my lead.”
He hid his confusion with a nod of his head. Why would she lie to him about that? Unless... it was a private joke and he wasn’t meant to take it literally. He’d probably upset her...
She squeezed his arm to grab his attention and an image flashed through his mind, gone as soon as it had developed. Too fast to grasp substance, but... The elevator. Her hand touching his shoulder and... bananas. Top banana.
“You like to be on top?” he asked, a smile spreading across his face.
He saw her face flush and an amused twinkle light her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond. “Don-”
“Clark, what’s the fashion statement here?” The husky feminine voice sliced through the air.
Clark held his breath as he looked over and caught sight of a striking older woman with auburn hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She held herself with an air of confidence and an almost predatory gleam lit her eyes.
He was waiting for the shock of recognition to hit him the way it did when he first entered the newsroom, but... nothing. Not a tremor of a memory. He only felt uncomfortable as she eyed him. He supposed he did look rather odd, standing in the middle of a sea of professionals wearing the rumpled clothes of a homeless man. Still... he shifted closer to Lois, resisting the urge to take her hand again.
“The statement is,” Lois began, unfazed by the older woman, “Clark has amnesia. Clark, this is Cat Grant. She writes the gossip column for the paper. We write the *news*.”
He clasped Cat’s outstretched hand, biting down on his reaction to her name. He thought it was rather... fitting. Her high cheek bones and long thin eyebrows were very... feline. He wondered momentarily if he’d feel the same electric shock he’d felt the first time he’d touched Lois, but, again, there was nothing.
“Is there a punch-line I’m missing?” The smile was still pasted on her face.
He shook his head ruefully. “No, it’s true, Ms. Grant. I really can’t remember much of anything.”
“Would you excuse us?” she asked, and without waiting for a reply grabbed onto his arm and whisked him off. He really didn’t want to leave Lois’s side, but he allowed Cat to lead him away.
“Honey, it’s me - Cat! How could you not remember what we meant to each other?”
Clark thought he could hear something under the pleading tone in her voice. His eyes sought out Lois, ambling over to her desk on the other side of the newsroom, far too far away. He had a sinking suspicion that he wouldn’t like where the conversation was heading.
“I guess we work together, right?” he offered, hopefully.
“We do a lot more than that.” She said, confirming his worst fears with her husky sigh.
Clark felt his heart sink. What kind of a man would cheat on his wife with a woman in a strappy pink dress?
He blinked and an image flickered behind his closed eyelids. He concentrated, trying to draw out the memory... he remembered... Cat’s hand on his knee, moving up his thigh. A plate of grapes. Lois on the phone, her angry voice demanding where he was, and... drums.
Clark’s eyes shot open. What kind of a life did he lead? If he would cheat on his wife, the woman he *loved*... he just... he couldn’t have... he knew, deep inside that he just wasn’t that kind of person. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.
“We kept it a secret,” she whispered. “You’re so worried about what people think.”
He shook his head in disbelief and she squeezed his upper arm, turning to look at Lois.
“Especially her.”
His heart was breaking. He couldn’t... he wouldn’t... it *couldn’t* be true.
Was it possible that he loved Cat? Enough to have an affair? He searched deep inside himself, but no matter how hard he looked he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t feel her imprint on his soul. Not like Lois. He loved his wife. He *knew* he loved his wife. Maybe they had problems... maybe... but they were happy, they had to be happy.
He *remembered* being happy.
He just... he wasn’t... what kind of a man had he been?
Obviously Cat thought... and Lois hadn’t mentioned anything, but... could that be why she wasn’t wearing his ring?
“You don’t even remember... us?” Cat’s teary voice barely broke through the haze of his thoughts.
He took a step backwards, even as Cat started to sob dramatically. He knew he should probably offer some form of comfort, but... he couldn’t. An adulterer. A liar. He realised with a sinking feeling that he didn’t want to be that man... that wasn’t something he *wanted* to remember.
Was that why Lois flinched every time he touched her? Did she think he was an adulterer? Did she think he was having an affair? Was she trying to spare him the humiliation of being told their marriage was falling apart? He shook his head roughly. No. It was impossible...
Clark closed his eyes, trying to recapture the flashes of memory, but once more, all he could see behind his closed lids were the lights, shooting past him on their way to oblivion. He started to panic as a breathless sensation overtook him. He felt like he was suffocating.
“Excuse us, folks.” A gruff voice interrupted. “Clark, Perry White.”
Clark snapped open his eyes, the darkness receding into the depths of his psyche and the newsroom refocusing around him. He forced himself to calmly shake the hand shoved in his direction and noted absently that the stern-looking man before him was nothing like Lois’s description had led him to expect.
“Sorry to hear about what happened, son.” Mr. White paused awkwardly before introducing the young man standing next to him. “This is Jimmy Olsen.”
Clark tried to smile at the boy, and the twist of his lips took more effort than he expected. He felt like he was watching the scene play out from a distance. A part of it, but... not. He didn’t know how to react to these people. These strangers that knew him.
“Hi, Clark.” Jimmy said, thrusting out his hand. “Actually, I always call you ‘C. K.’, C. K.”
He tossed the name around in his head as he shook the young man’s hand. He didn’t feel like a C.K. But then... he didn’t feel like a Clark either. A quick glance at the woman scurrying away reminded him... he might not want to.
He sensed Lois’s familiar presence at his side and slipped his hand into hers. The feel of her small hand squeezing his caused the anxiety knotting his shoulders to bleed out. Her message was clear - no matter what he’d done, she was still there for him. He wanted to thank her, he wanted to pull her into his embrace and never let go, but he knew he couldn’t.
“Now, how you feeling?” Mr. White asked, his eyes riveted to their clasped hands. “You feel up to doing a news conference?”
Clark looked at Lois who was nodding her head encouragingly. He opened his mouth to assure Mr. White that he was, but no sound came out. He wanted to say yes, but he felt uncomfortable lying to the man. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything, and he didn’t think he could handle anymore without the fragile shards crashing around him. His thoughts were swimming, his mind working on overload, and he was dangerously close to shutting down completely.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “This is... there’s just so much to take in.”
He saw Mr. White’s eyes flicker between Lois, himself, and their clasped hands.
“That’s understandable, son.” Mr. White said. “Why don’t you take the afternoon off? Both of you.”
TBC...
