From part 8:
Clark’s super hearing picked up the soft click of the door latch as their targets returned to the office across the street just before the computer alerted them that the microphone had been activated.
And now, part 9:
---
Lois and Clark returned to the bedroom in time to see Roarke, Bart, and Harrington entering the office.
<< …What exactly will happen? >> Harrington was asking apprehensively. Even from across the street, he looked drawn and worried.
<< Why don't I show you? >> Roarke answered, opening a laptop on the desk in front of him, << We had a video made from our computer model. Bart, get the lights and the shutters. >>
Within a few moments, Bart had closed the interior shutters and the office was dark.
“Rats!” Lois exclaimed, “Now what?”
Clark tried looking through the shutters but they must have been painted with a very high lead-content paint. He couldn’t see clearly into the office - the men were hazy outlines lit dimly by the glow of the computer screen they were watching, but that was all he could see.
Like many of the office buildings in downtown Metropolis, the windows stretched almost the length of the office, so he really couldn’t look through the office walls, either.
Lois had turned up the microphone but the men weren’t talking - static filled the bedroom, and she turned it down again.
“This is torture,” Lois began, but suddenly light was shining behind the shutters, and then Bart was opening them again.
If possible, Harrington looked even more ill and careworn than before. He wiped at his forehead, asking << …are you sure you can pull this off? >>
<< I guarantee it, >> Roarke said with obvious satisfaction.
<< … Because if you don't, what... happens to me? >> Harrington was asking.
Roarke laughed.
It wasn’t a nice laugh. << Pray you never find out, >> he said, gesturing at Bart.
Bart moved forward, took Harrington by the arm, and showed him firmly out of the office.
Roarke shut down the laptop and tucked it under one arm. << Put these with the other ones, >> he told Bart, handing him another manilla envelope. << That’s the last of Harrington’s ‘help’ we needed… I’m beginning to wonder if he’s more of a liability than I originally thought… >>
Bart began filing papers in the file cabinet as Roarke left the office.
Watching him, Clark spied the wall calendar and suddenly thought of a way to tell Lois the date of the test.
“Let’s try the spotting scope, Lois,” he said, “Maybe we can see the date on that calendar.”
“Good idea, partner,” she replied, “And Clark, we *have* to find a way into that office!”
“Let’s see if we can get a look at the calendar first, okay?” he asked, “before…”
“…before Bart leaves the office,” she finished, already reaching for the scope.
They began calibrating the spotting scope, heads bent close over the equipment. This close to her, Clark was trying to concentrate on maintaining full gravity while still giving Lois his complete attention.
So he heard it only peripherally; he almost missed it, even with his super hearing.
The sound came from the suite’s main room - a knock… and then a click.
He whipped his head up and around and looked through the door into the main room. The maid had entered the suite, a stack of towels in her arms, and she was even now halfway across the room.
He snapped his gaze back to the surveillance equipment - in plain sight - and Lois, who was looking at him quizzically.
He was acting on the idea even as it flashed into his mind.
He swept the equipment up and onto the bed, tossing the bedclothes on top of it all. In almost the same moment, he scooped his partner up and tossed her onto the bed, following her down among the rumpled blankets.
Even as Lois began to struggle, her hands pushing at his shoulders, he was gently restraining her arms - and as she started, “Clar- ” his lips came down on hers.
He’d envisioned it as a quick but convincing-looking kiss that would end as the maid, discovering her error, retreated from the room - and the suite.
He’d had a vision of himself glancing back toward the door as she left, pulling back carefully from Lois - who would have heard the maid’s hasty apology and would understand why her mild-mannered partner had suddenly gone caveman.
But this was not just his partner - heaven help him, this was the curvy, warm, sexy little body of his beloved, wrapped in his arms. If she hadn’t kissed Superman like that at the airport… he would have been able to stop, to pull back after the briefest of pecks, as soon as the maid had retreated.
He began drifting upward, hindered slightly at first by the blankets tangled around their feet.
And… was she *responding* to him? She’d gone still when the maid spoke, but now… *Yes* - his life, his heart, his beloved was *kissing him back*.
Dimly, distantly, a little voice in his mind was protesting something about <secret> and <not a good idea>, but he had ceased to listen.
He couldn’t stop.
And this was… *heaven*… He stopped thinking and just… *felt*.
The reasoning part of his brain threw up its hands in defeat, and left the arena.
He moaned and deepened the kiss as she arched into him; he kicked at the restraining blankets as he wrapped her more tightly in his arms.
Her fingers had crept into his hair, sending delicious shivers across his scalp and down his back. She pulled her mouth from his, gasping, and moaned his name. Her lips returned to his as her hands slipped to the nape of his neck, and she tightened her hold around his shoulders, pulling him to her as he finally kicked free of the blankets and floated fully off the bed.
He wasn’t thinking about floating, or about protecting his secret - or about gravity’s stronger hold on Lois. He only knew she wasn’t pressed as tightly against him as he wanted, and as they rose into the air, he rolled with her until she was above him.
She was trembling in his arms, and he lightened his kisses until he was sipping gently at her lips, one hand cupped against her cheek. Leaving her mouth, he lifted his head and brushed feathery kisses across her jaw; she blindly sought his mouth again.
“Clark,” she whispered breathlessly against his lips, “Clark, I… I want…”
He kissed her deeply once again, and she melted bonelessly into him.
“Oh, Lois… I *love you*,” he murmured, overwhelmed by her, sliding his hand from her cheek into her hair, cradling her head against his shoulder as he held her snugly against him.
She lifted her head and stared at him, eyes wide, as she repeated, “You love me? Clark…”
“Clark!” she repeated his name sharply, jolting him back to his surroundings, as she - and he - discovered their position more than a foot above the bed.
She pulled back against his arms, staring uncomprehendingly at the surface of the bed below them, then turned her gaze back to him, as he began to float them down onto the blankets again.
Both of them were breathing rapidly, hearts pounding; Clark’s body shook with fine tremors as he fought to bring himself under control.
She still rested easily against him, arms braced on his chest as she stared around her again, and again looked back at him. Her gaze sharpened on his face: he loosened his arms around her slightly, and waited, saying nothing…
He saw the moment she recognized him - *all* of him. Her eyes grew wide; still breathless, she whispered, “Clark?” She reached forward and removed his glasses, dropping them on the bed beside them. She pushed his hair back off his forehead, her eyes rapidly cataloging his facial features.
“Clark!” she said again, in a tone of voice he found hard to decipher. The solid thump she delivered to his shoulder in almost the same moment, however, was easier to understand.
“Lois,” he started, and she seemed to recollect herself to her present position. She scrambled off of him to sit back on her heels on the rumpled bed, arms wrapped across her middle. He, too, sat up, carefully avoiding the surveillance equipment still concealed beneath the blankets, and retrieved his glasses.
“When were you planning on telling me?” she asked icily. “…*Were* you planning on telling me?”
“I can’t believe it!” she continued before he could even begin to formulate a reply, “I should have figured it out! I’m an *investigative reporter*, for pete’s sake!”
“Lois,” he said again, “I didn’t intend for that to happen - “
“What, revealing your secret?” she interrupted angrily, “You *weren’t even* going to tell me? You didn’t… you were - ”
“No! Yes! I mean, yes, I’ve been wanting to tell you for quite a while now, but no, I didn’t intend for that kiss to get so out-of-hand,” he said rapidly, before she could draw a breath and continue.
“What?” she asked blankly. “We’re talking about your being *Superman*, Clark! …Oh,” she added belatedly, sidetracked. “That was… you didn’t?”
“Lois, I… I heard the maid coming,” he said. “We’re supposed to be a couple on our honeymoon - not hanging over equipment straight out of a spy novel. It was the only thing I could think of in the short time we had before she got to the bedroom.”
“So what happened?” she inquired, still icily.
<But more like a northern-Minnesota-spring-icy than the-Arctic-Circle-icy> his inner voice piped up. He firmly quashed the voice.
“I… got carried away,” he said softly, looking down at the blankets. “Lois, you tempted me almost beyond my control for the last couple of days, and then - when you kissed Superman at the airport… I… It was *heaven*, Lois,” he said, looking up at her again. “I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop. I should have known that would happen - the moment I touched your lips with mine,” he continued. “You don’t realize the power you have over me, Lois.”
“What power? Clark, you’re *Superman*!” she said. “And you weren’t interested, anyway… Oh,” she said, looking at him wide-eyed, “You really *weren’t* affected by Miranda’s stuff, were you?”
“No, Lois - but I’ve always been affected by you. I’ve *always* been interested in you,” he told her. “You had to have known.”
“No… I, well, yes, I thought so, …but Clark, you didn’t respond to me when… well, you didn’t respond,” she mumbled, embarassment in her voice. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I couldn’t, Lois - however much I *wanted to*,” he said. “I couldn’t take advantage of you. Whether you were attracted to me or not, it would have been against your… well, you were under the influence of Miranda’s pheromone.”
She said nothing for a moment, staring down at the rumpled bed.
“Lois?” he asked. “Look at me… please?”
She raised her head and gazed at him; her expression was hard to read.
“And if I wasn’t?’ she asked suddenly.
“You weren’t what?” he asked, confused.
“What if I *was* interested, Clark? And not affected by Miranda’s compound?” she asked him.
Clark immediately rose six inches off the bed.
“Lois?” he asked, “Are you saying…” He trailed off.
Lois was gaping at him, and he fought to bring himself down onto the surface of the bed again.
<crack!>
He’d come down on the surveillance equipment, and hurriedly stood up, pulling the blankets aside and looking for damage.
“Clark,” Lois asked, “does that always happen to you?’
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Only with you, Lois,” he said, looking up at her again. “I can’t seem to stay… grounded around you.”
“You know,” she said, almost conversationally, climbing off the bed, ‘I really should have guessed before now. After all, *nobody* could be that clumsy.”
“When *were* you going to tell me, Clark?” she continued, pacing toward the bedroom door and then back again toward the window, where he had leaned the surveillance equipment against the windowsill. “When our babies were floating out of their basinets?”
She seemed to realize what she’d said at the same time he did, and a rosy blush surged in her cheeks.
“Clark, were you going to tell me?” she continued quickly, before he could comment.
He sighed.
“Yes, Lois,” he answered, “I knew I had to tell you - I wanted to tell you. You’re the only person besides my mom and dad that knows. You’re the only person I’ve ever *wanted* to tell. I was waiting for the right moment,” he continued, “but it never seemed to *be* the right moment, and then I kept getting cold feet. I was afraid you’d hate me, Lois,” he said miserably, “because Superman’s just me, Clark - nobody special.”
She opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again, shaking her head. She paced away from him again, and he bent with a heavy heart to finish setting up the surveillance equipment.
Defeat kept his feet firmly, solidly on the floor.
“Clark.” She spoke from across the room. “You’re not *just* anybody. You’re Superman. No, -“
She held up her hand to forestall anything he might say, but he was too miserable to even try. She did hate him. He’d ruined any chance he had with her.
“…I mean, you’re *Superman*, Clark. I should have seen it,” she continued, approaching him again. “I *should* be angry with you, but I’m angrier at myself. All of the qualities that make him so good - they’re yours, Clark. He’s you. And you’re him. You can’t conceal that part of you no matter what you wear.”
“Lois…” he started to say as she advanced on him, that same indecipherable look on her face as when she’d first discovered his secret. It was a dangerous look.
She continued toward him, crowding him back against the window.
“I should have seen it,” she repeated. “I think… I think maybe I *did* see it, sort of… But I could only admit it when I was sprayed with the pheromone stuff.”
She had continued forward until she was pressed against him, and his hands came up of their own volition to steady her as she threaded her hands up around his neck and into his hair.
Helplessly, he rose with her slowly into the air.
She looked startled for a moment, then giggled. “We’re going to have to work on your reactions to this sort of thing, hoverboy,” she said, grinning up at him.
“Clark,” she continued softly, taking pity on his confusion, “I couldn’t figure out why I was so… attracted to Superman, but… even more strongly attracted to you. How I could be in love with… with both of you. I couldn’t explain it - I couldn’t even admit it to myself until a few days ago.”
“You really should have told me,” she continued chidingly, as his jaw dropped and he stared at her in utter shock. “We could have… resolved a few things… days ago.”
Clark had slowly drifted higher as he realized what she was saying. Against all expectations, Lois, his love, his heart - was saying she loved him - him, *Clark*.
With an inarticulate shout of joy, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and his lips came down on hers, eagerly uplifted and waiting for him. The world ceased to exist around him, and he lost all sense of time, of what was up and what was down.
Until they bumped against the ceiling.
Lois pulled back from him, dazedly, her breath coming in gasps to equal his own. “Wow,” she whispered, in an echo of her reaction at the airport.
“Yes… wow,” he repeated, a huge grin on his face.
“Much as I’d like to continue this,” she said, smiling, “we still have a job to do. Could you land us, flyboy?” she asked him sweetly.
With a flourish, he took them down, reluctantly letting her go once they were both standing steadily on the bedroom floor once more.
“Help me set this stuff up the way it was, Clark,” she told him, beginning to fiddle with the surveillance equipment. “We have things to do.”
He couldn’t help sighing as he moved to help her.
“Okay, Lois… you’re right. We have a dirty politician to expose and a story to write… But I kind of wish we didn’t have to stop what we were just doing,” he added wistfully.
She tossed a cheeky grin at him as they realigned the microphone and the video camera toward the office windows across the street.
“Who said we have to stop, Clark?’ she asked him. “Didn’t Jimmy say the system would automatically record what it sees and hears? We’re just here to review the data. There’s no reason why we can’t find… things to do while we wait,” she continued with a grin. “Just - this time, make sure the ‘do not disturb’ sign is hanging on the door, okay?”
Her grin turned to outright laughter as he once again rose involuntarily into the air.
---
Much later, in the early hours of the morning, Lois and Clark lay on the couch together, Clark’s head and shoulders resting back against the cushioned arm, and Lois resting on Clark.
They’d had several very enjoyable - and elevating - kissing sessions. Both of them had agreed that it was too soon for true intimacy; they had been content to limit themselves to kissing, cuddling, and talking. Clark was happy to just hold Lois in his arms with no pretenses between them.
Their reactions to each other were very strong, so some moments had been fairly intense. Fortunately, Lois’s tendency to react with laughter when Clark floated them had helped keep their desires in check.
They’d bumped against the ceiling more than once, and had even ended up floating over the hot tub. That time, when recalled to his surroundings, Clark simply dropped down into the tub with Lois, drenching them both. She’d come up spluttering and muttering dire threats while he laughed helplessly, but she’d been laughing, too.
And she’d gotten her revenge on him by kissing him, deeply and hungrily, as they sat on the seat of the hot tub, both of them wet and dripping, until he was completely oblivious to anything else - then she’d taken adantage of his slow but steady rise from the seat of the hot tub to tug him quickly forward and duck him.
Now she lay sleepily against him as they half-heartedly watched a movie neither one of them was very much interested in.
“We never looked through the scope, Clark,” she said drowsily into his neck.
“The calendar’s marked for the day after tomorrow,” Clark replied.
Lois raised her head to stare at him questioningly, and he gestured to his eyes. “Super vision, you know,” he said.
“Oh… you could see it from…” Lois trailed off. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to that, Clark,” she continued.
“I, uh… also, …heard it from Harrington’s side of that conversation earlier,” he confessed.
Lois’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed on his guilty expression.
He squirmed uncomfortably under her glare, wondering what she was going to do.
But all she did was say mildly, “You’re going to pay for keeping secrets from me, flyboy.”
“Pay?” he asked apprehensively. He might be Superman, but this was Lois Lane he was dealing with.
“Pay,” she confirmed solemnly, “I’m thinking… Swiss chocolate… a tour of the Eiffel tower followed by breakfast in Paris… maybe a shopping trip to Milan… a visit to a tropical paradise…”
A slow grin had formed on Clark’s face as she continued, and she smiled at him in return.
He dropped a quick kiss on her lips - a kiss that quickly escalated into something so powerful that it left them both trembling.
And floating.
“Hmmm…” Lois murmured against his lips, “We need to practice keeping you grounded, Clark… which could be quite enjoyable…”
Clark wrapped his arms more firmly around her. Holding her, kissing her, being close like this was more than enjoyable, it was paradise, the culmination of his dreams. Looking into her eyes, soft with love - for him - was elating <elevating> and he had never been as happy as he was now.
-----
tbc
