I'm posting this now, rather than waiting for tomorrow, because I realise that some people have busy lives and commitments that have to come before reading fic... 
Have a great Christmas, everyone. PART NINE
Bells rang across the city, joyful carillons heralding the arrival of Christmas morning.
In his small east side apartment, Clark Kent began to stir.
He tried to snag onto the fading images of his dream, unwilling to give them up. However, they sidestepped his waking mind, leaving only the faintest echoes behind.
He'd dreamed about *her* again. He did that a lot. This dream, though...
Something about it...
It had been different from usual.
Lois walking among angels.
Kisses to warm the soul.
And the merest hint of a light, fresh scent, with a hint of fruit.
Usually, after he'd dreamed about Lois, he would wake up and feel a profound sense of loss. But this time...
He didn't feel loss. He felt... hope.
A promise of things to come.
Which made no sense whatsoever because, from what he could remember of the dream, Lois had been dead.
Clark shook himself, yawned and stretched.
Time to get up and meet the day.
*****
Clark walked down the steps of his apartment, hands thrust deeply into his coat pockets. The frosty air nipped at his cheeks. He didn't find the cold painful or unpleasant. Instead, he found the chill wind playful and invigorating. He lifted his face towards the sky, closed his eyes, and felt a rare smile play on his lips.
Maybe he couldn't be a part of Christmas in the way that he'd always wanted. Maybe he didn't have a family or friends to unwrap presents and sing carols with. But, for once, he didn't care. He'd still have a Christmas that would mean something. A Christmas where he would touch the lives of others and make a difference.
He lowered his face and opened his eyes again.
He glanced down at his watch. Eleven o'clock. Plenty of time before he had to be at Sister Trine's half-way house, where he, along with half a dozen other volunteers, would serve turkey and trimmings to as many of Metropolis's homeless as the building could hold.
He felt his smile broaden. Then he set off at a walk.
No, not a walk. He was dancing, listening to the music of the crackling snow as he planted his feet first heel-toe, then toe-heel. He hopped and jumped and twirled, flinging his arms out as he spun, human-speed for once.
He hadn't felt so light and free in years. Not since... Probably not since he was a child. His laughter floated free, lifting to the sky.
Making music for heaven to hear, he thought fancifully, then wondered where the notion had come from.
He was outside the half-way house when a female voice said out of nowhere, "You sound like you're having fun."
Clark came to an abrupt halt, embarrassed. He turned, suddenly heavy-footed, towards the speaker, an automatic apology on his lips.
"Sor--" he said, before the word froze, half-formed, in the crisp Christmas air.
The woman was silhouetted against the winter sun. Clark had to squint to look at her. With the light behind her, she looked as though she wore a halo.
Then she took a couple of steps towards him and the halo vanished.
Long brown hair framed an oval face. She had the biggest, darkest eyes he had ever seen. Her lips were twisting in rueful amusement as she tried not to laugh at him.
She was beautiful.
She was... "Lois?"
She frowned at him. "Yes," she said uncertainly, almost suspiciously. "Who are you, and how do you know my name?"
*****
FIVE YEARS LATER
There was nothing like waking up with Lois in his arms. Especially on Christmas Day.
The anniversary of the day they'd first met.
The day his life had really begun.
Clark smiled and inhaled deeply, breathing the scent of her in. He'd always loved the scent of her: light and fresh, with a hint of apple. Then again, maybe the apple was from the shampoo she used. Clark didn't know, and he didn't care. All he knew was that it suited her, and that was enough for him.
He loved lying with her like this, in the silence of their townhouse, before the rest of the world woke up. Her breathing was slow, and he could hear the strong beat of her pulse.
He loved listening to her heartbeat, and the way it sometimes skipped.
He loved the feel of her skin, warm and smooth against his.
He loved her.
Sometimes, Clark wondered how he had failed to find her in all his searches of the Congo.
Sometimes, he wished for her sake as much as his own that he had found her sooner. Then she wouldn't have had to spend five years in the sweltering heat, wondering who she was.
And, sometimes, he wondered how different their lives would have been if they had met each other sooner.
But mostly, all he felt was a profound gratitude that he'd managed to find her at all. He treasured every moment of every day they spent together.
Once, Lois had jokingly said that she would trade an eternity in paradise for just a moment with him. He hadn't laughed. Her words had sounded too close to the truth for comfort, and the idea that she felt that way about him had taken his breath away.
Besides, he knew exactly how she felt. He would do the same for her. In a skipping heartbeat.
Clark reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from Lois's cheek with his finger tips. Asleep, she looked so peaceful. Relaxed.
Very different from the feisty powerhouse she was when she was awake.
Clark felt a smile curve his lips and a chuckle bubble in his chest as a memory popped unbidden into his head.
He remembered how, soon after they'd got engaged, Lois had insisted on going with him to one of his monthly meetings at the Superman Foundation. She'd said it would make for a great feature article and that she needed all the help she could get to regain her rightful place as the Daily Planet's top reporter.
Clark had wanted to say an awful lot of things to the Foundation's board for a very long time, but he'd never quite dared to. Lois, however, had had no such qualms, either to their faces or in print.
Lois was his tiger, his guardian angel, his lover, his wife and best friend, all rolled into one.
And, next to him, she was beginning to stir.
She muttered and slurred something he couldn't quite catch. Her hand reached across and brushed his chest as she stretched. And then he felt her snuggle closer to him.
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
"H'm... Feels nice..." she said. "But I think we can do better than that..."
"Oh? Really...?"
"Yeah..."
She scooted along the length of his torso, setting his nerve endings on fire.
Her lips on his were soft and warm and perfect.
He loved her kisses. Sweet and warm and passionate.
Touches of heaven.
*****
"Mewwy Chwistmas!"
Clark glanced over and looked at the alarm clock. 6.35 AM.
The door handle turned, and then a pint-sized tornado stormed inside. She clambered onto the double bed and began to bounce.
"Mewwy Chwistmas! Daddy! Mommy! Mewwy Chwistmas!"
Three years old. Brown-eyed. Excited. And *loud*.
If Martha was awake, the baby wouldn't be far behind.
Oh, well. Early mornings were a small price to pay for family.
At least the early start would give them plenty of time to get up, have breakfast, open presents, and tidy up the resulting wreckage before going over to Sister Trine's...
Clark heard Lois groan as Martha launched into a tuneless chorus of Jingle Bells.
"No doubt about it, Clark," Lois said. "She's inherited your talent for singing."
Clark grinned wryly. "So you keep saying."
*****
"Lois! Clark! Welcome!"
Sister Trine held out her arms, embracing the adults and then kissing the heads of the Kent children.
"Come inside out of the cold! Make yourselves at home!"
Clark loved Christmas dinner at Sister Trine's, and it would always have a special place in his heart.
He had met Lois for the first time on the pavement outside, and he'd begun to get to know her as they'd helped to serve up turkey, cranberry sauce and Christmas pudding.
Clark hadn't had wanted to stop helping at the half-way house after Martha was born, though he'd wondered if he would have to.
Fortunately, neither Sister Trine nor her friend Patrick would hear of either him or Lois giving up their Christmases at the half-way house just because they thought it might be awkward having a baby around. She could never have enough volunteers, Sister Trine had said, when he'd broached the subject. She couldn't possibly spare them.
Clark didn't quite believe her. Especially because she'd been winking at the time.
As the Kents' circle of friends had grown, so had the number of people who came by on Christmas day. This year, for the first time, Lois's sister, Lucy was going to come along. So were several people from the Daily Planet and a couple of friends that Clark had made from among the reinvigorated Superman Foundation's newer employees.
If there were too many people to serve the food, the extra volunteers would chat with the homeless who came by. Sometimes the volunteers could find ways to help them. Other times, it was simply enough to talk.
And there were always plenty of people ready and willing to keep Martha entertained while Lois and Clark worked. This year they'd also get to bounce the baby on their knees.
Martha ran ahead, knowing from other visits exactly where the dining room was. Lois followed. Clark, holding the baby, brought up the rear.
Clark smiled as he took in the amount of trouble someone had taken to decorate the half-way house. There were garlands along the walls and tinsel around the door frames.
In the corner of the dining room stood the seven foot spruce that Clark had dropped off just a few days before. Now it was festooned with baubles and fairy lights, and a serene-looking angel looked down from its topmost branch.
*****
Patrick looked up from peeling potatoes to greet the Kents like long lost friends.
They usually only saw him at Christmas. Clark wasn't even sure what he did for the rest of the year. Lois seemed to think that he was some kind of aid worker, but the one time Clark had asked outright what he did, Patrick had quickly changed the subject.
This year, Patrick had brought along a friend, an old man called something Martin. Or Martin something. Whoever he was, Clark noticed that he seemed to be pretty taken with Lois. Something Martin (or Martin Something) also lavished attention on the kids.
The dinner, as usual, was a runaway success.
Afterwards, a few people drifted away, but most stayed to sing carols and then, after they ran out of those, other holiday favourites, including Jingle Bell Rock, A Winter's Tale and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.
They even sang Fairytale of New York.
Lois leaned in to Clark's side and nudged, directing his attention towards Sister Trine. The nun was singing as loudly and as lustily as anyone else, even if she did seem a bit embarrassed by the words.
Then Lois nudged him again and pointed upwards.
Mistletoe.
She grinned at him.
He grinned back.
And then they kissed.
And kissed.
The singing faded away. Then people all around them began to applaud and wolf whistle.
And Clark drew back and looked around sheepishly. He could feel his cheeks warm. "Lois... I think we've drawn a crowd," he whispered.
She blushed and ducked her head. Then she looked back up at him, her eyes alight with mischief. "Aw, heck, Clark! Who cares if anyone's watching?"
END
Author's afterword:
Writing this story has been a fascinating experience. Usually I feel in control of a story. This time, I felt that the story was in control of me. I wanted to write something short, in the spirit of the season. The story was determined to be long, complicated, and angsty! It took me on a magical mystery tour of my imagination, showing me things I didn't know were there.
The feedback I've received on the lcficmbs has been amazing. Not only has it been complimentary, it has also been thought provoking. Thank you to everyone who has commented, both on the boards and privately.
I'm sure Wendy didn't know what she was letting herself in for when she said she would beta-read and GE this for me. How could she, when I had no idea, myself! She worked miracles, being at all times encouraging and *fast*. Also, it is largely thanks to her that the story ends the way it does. (I'd wondered if I could get away leaving it where the bell knelled, but Wendy promised to lead the lynch mob if I did. And since she knows where I live...
)
So, finally, to Wendy: I can't thank you enough.
