Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Savior (5-6/15)

The airplane banked smoothly, beginning its final descent toward Wichita Dwight D. Eisenhower National Airport, and Lois closed her laptop, stuffed it back into its case, and pushed the case under the seat in front of her. Outside, the high clouds stretched out across the sky, and a light rain began to fall as the ground approached rapidly. Lois frowned as she stared out the window at the rain, her fingers tapping absently on her arm rest. She’d been to Kansas once before, when she was a senior in college, but she didn’t remember it being quite so flat. Fields extended to the south as far as she could see, no hills in sight.

She was here on business, of course. Because for some boneheaded reason, the American Society of Journalists and Authors Annual Conference had been moved from its long-standing location in New York City to out in the middle of nowhere—AKA Wichita, Kansas. And Perry had insisted she attend. Although she normally would have jumped at the chance to represent the Daily Planet at the ASJA Annual Conference in previous years, three days of talks on journalistic integrity, moving journalism into the digital age, and emerging media trends just wasn’t terribly appealing to her right now. However, she hadn’t really argued about it for more than a few minutes because, well, she had other reasons for wanting to come to Kansas.

One other reason, really. And that reason was the simple fact that Smallville was only about an hour southwest of Wichita.

The plane’s wheels hit the ground, and the aircraft bounced a couple times before smoothing out and decelerating rapidly. Lois pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched it out of airplane mode. Almost immediately, it buzzed with multiple text message notifications: Jimmy asking where she’d left her notes on the congressional hearing from the previous day; Perry asking if she could send her revisions for a short article that she’d written on the reopening of the Metropolis Zoo; and several from her sister asking when she’d be back from Kansas so they could meet up.

More importantly, she also saw she’d missed a call from Martha Kent.

Lois smiled to herself and quickly dialed the Kents’ number. After two rings, an older male voice answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jonathan, this is Lois,” she started, unintentionally lowering her voice as the other passengers around her also fumbled with their phones and luggage, getting ready to disembark. “I just landed in Wichita. Are we still on for this evening?”

“Lois, yes, hi. Martha is right here, cooking enough food to feed an army,” Jonathan answered jovially, a hint of laughter in his voice. “We’re looking forward to seeing you.”

“Perfect. I just need to get my rental car and then I’ll be heading your direction,” Lois explained quickly, shifting in her seat as the man next to her stood to remove his luggage from the overhead bin. “So maybe two hours or less?”

“Sounds good, Lois. We’ll see you then… What’s that Martha?” Jonathan paused, and Lois heard some rustling on the other end of the line. She smiled as Jonathan mumbled and cleared his throat. “Of course, yes. Lois, Martha reminded me to tell you to be careful on highway 42. It looks clear, but with the rain, it can get icy very quickly if the temperature drops.”

“Right, thank you, Jonathan,” Lois acknowledged, glancing again outside at the rain, which had started to fall steadier and heavier. “I’ll be careful. See you soon.”

The phone went silent as Jonathan Kent hung up on the other end, and Lois quickly shoved the phone into her pocket and pulled her laptop bag out from under the seat. It had been nearly a month since she’d helped to rescue Clark from that warehouse outside of Metropolis and just over three weeks since the Kents and made the long drive home from Metropolis to Kansas, finally reunited as a family again. She’d kept in touch with Martha and had been delighted when Martha had invited her to dinner during her trip to Wichita.

She followed the line of passengers off the plane and angled toward the baggage claim area, a smile growing on her face. And about thirty minutes later, she was on the road in a mid-sized white sedan, traveling south toward Smallville.



Lois Lane didn’t get nervous. Ah, who was she trying to fool. Yes, she did get nervous. And right now, she was quite nervous.

She shook her head to steady herself, shouldered her purse, and raised her hand to knock on the door. The old farmhouse had been easy to find, down a well-maintained dirt road just outside of ‘downtown’ Smallville, which was not much more than a short stretch of road lined on either side with a few shops, a diner, a bank, and a small movie theater. The yellow paint and white trim looked relatively fresh, and several potted plants, wilted from the cold February weather, sat on the porch. A single hand-painted wind chime sung in the breeze, its soft clangs echoing out across the open corn fields.

Lois smiled at the simple knickknack, steeled her nerves, and knocked lightly on the door. Quiet rustling came from inside the house, followed by footsteps, and then the door opened to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man about her age with deep brown eyes, short dark hair, and a guarded smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Clark Kent. She almost stepped backwards in surprise; he looked quite different than he had three weeks ago. The cut on his cheek had healed, and although still pale, he was no longer gaunt or frail-looking. He stood tall and straight, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt and khakis.

“Lois, hi,” he greeted quietly. “Please, come in.” He pushed the door open all the way, and warm air wafted out to welcome her as he motioned her inside.

“Thank you,” she replied, following him.

The farmhouse could be best described as ‘cozy,’ she decided. To her right, there was a small living room with a couch, a coffee table, two recliners, and a television, and to her left, her hosts congregated in a small but functional kitchen. Martha Kent pulled a casserole dish out of the oven, smiling brightly as she saw Lois, and Jonathan Kent stood at the counter carving a small turkey. He too looked up at her and smiled briefly, before shifting his focus back to his task.

“Lois, oh, I’m so glad you could make it,” Martha exclaimed as she set down the casserole dish and hurried around the small kitchen table to greet her guest. The two women hugged as though they were old friends, and as Martha pulled out of the embrace, she glanced quickly over Lois’s shoulder and frowned. “Clark, honey, can you finish setting the table so we can eat? I bet Lois is starving. Aren’t you, dear?” The older woman stepped away from Lois and back into the kitchen to put the final touches on dinner.

“Oh, well, you know… I can always eat…” Lois blushed as she turned to look toward Clark. His eyes were lowered to the floor, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Sorry, Mom, I-I forgot. I’ll just…”

His voice trailed off as he moved awkwardly around Lois to the table and finished setting out the appropriate dishes and utensils. A sort of uncomfortable silence filled the room as Lois stood and watched the Kents work.

After another moment, Lois cleared her throat. “You have a lovely home,” she said, moving a bit closer to the table.

“Thank you, dear.” Martha smiled as she looked up from the kitchen and started moving dishes from the kitchen counter to the table. Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn casserole, green beans, rolls, and of course the turkey. Jonathan hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Martha was cooking to feed an army.

“Can I help with anything else, Mom?” Clark asked tentatively. He blinked several times and settled his hands on the back of one of the chairs as he watched his mother. Lois noticed that he seemed stiff or tense, maybe, and his smile was a bit forced; she hoped she wasn’t making him anxious just being there.

“No, thank you, honey, I’ve got it.” Martha shook her head as she set down another dish on the table, and she gently patted his shoulder. His smile seemed to shift briefly at his mother’s touch, relaxing a bit, but then tightened again as his eyes drifted to Lois. He quickly looked away, and Lois frowned. Yep, she made him nervous for some reason.

But then his demeanor shifted yet again as he moved toward her and pulled out the chair nearest to her.

“W-would you l-like to sit, Lois?” he invited, motioning to the seat. His eyes lifted to hers briefly and then lowered to his hands.

Maybe he was just shy, she wondered. She stepped toward him.

“Yes, thank you, Clark.”

To her surprise, he raised his eyes again and smiled at her, a broad, true smile that seemed to brighten the whole room. It was momentary, flickering across his lips and then hiding behind his more guarded expression, which she’d seen when she first arrived, but it was there.

She sat carefully as he pushed the chair in under her, and she then watched as he moved to take the seat next to her. Martha and Jonathan joined them a moment later, and as they all began digging into the wonderful feast Martha had prepared, Lois found herself sneaking quiet glances at the man sitting next to her. He was handsome, she realized with a start, her eyes darting back to her own plate for a moment. She took an extra scoop of green beans and a small slice of turkey, then passed the gravy to Martha, who sat on her right. She smiled at a joke Jonathan told and took a sip of coffee as she studied Clark again. His eyes. Something about his eyes… Just as they had in the photograph Martha had shown her that first time they’d met at the Planet, his eyes drew her in. She saw deep within them benevolence, wisdom, kindness, and empathy. Her throat suddenly felt dry, and she looked away sharply.

God, she was attracted to him.

No, that didn’t sound like a good idea. And how? Sure, he was nice to look at. But…no, it was much more than that. Much more.

“Lois, are you okay, dear?” Martha’s kind voice broke through her introspection, and Lois quickly nodded as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“Yes, sorry, I just—this is so nice. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal like this in a long time,” Lois explained, mentally kicking herself for lying. She lifted her eyes to Martha’s and smiled. “I really appreciate all of this. It seems like so much trouble, though…”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, dear. We’ll have leftovers for days, and, well, Clark’s got quite an appetite, so I’m sure none of it will go to waste,” Martha laughed, her gaze shifting momentarily to her son sitting across the table.

Clark blushed. “Mom…”

“Well, it’s true, honey,” Martha insisted. She leaned over toward Lois and whispered, almost conspiratorially, “He’s making up for all the lost meals, I think.” And she winked and tilted her chin briefly toward Clark, who was sheepishly shoving a much-too-large piece of turkey into his mouth. His face turned an even darker red, and he looked down at his plate again. Lois smiled as her eyes darted from Clark to his mother and then to Jonathan, who also had a crooked grin on his face.

“Don’t embarrass the boy, Martha,” Jonathan chided, setting his fork down alongside his knife. But he smiled along with both of them and then expertly redirected the conversation to Lois. “So, Lois, this journalism conference you’re attending, is this something you do every year?”

Lois shook her head and swallowed the bite of green beans in her mouth before responding.

“No, this will actually be my first time attending this particular conference. The Daily Planet typically sends one representative—a senior reporter, usually, and since I was just recently promoted, I wasn’t even expecting to go this year. But my editor thought it would be a good experience for me, so here I am.” She smiled at Jonathan, who nodded thoughtfully and then picked his knife up again to cut another piece of turkey.

“You…you’re an investigative journalist, is that right?” Clark inquired tentatively. He looked almost embarrassed to be asking her the question, but as she shifted toward him and their eyes met, she saw a deep curiosity in him, and she grinned and nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. There’s many different paths a journalist can take. For example, at the Daily Planet, we have reporters like me, who are investigative journalists, but then we also have reporters who focus on politics, or travel, or business, or sports,” Lois explained. Martha and Jonathan also seemed interested, and Lois found her audience staring at her expectantly, waiting for more explanation. Clark leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, then seemed to remember his manners as his mother shot him a look. He grimaced and sat up again.

“Um, so, how did—how did you decide when—I mean, how did you decide that you wanted to be an investigative reporter?” He fumbled slightly with his words, but seemed to gain a little bit of confidence when he managed to finish his question.

He stared intensely at Lois, eagerly awaiting her answer, and Lois found herself lost in his eyes again. They were a deep brown, full of curiosity, intelligence, and enthusiasm. Finally, she nodded to acknowledge the question and broke eye contact, blinking to focus her thoughts.

“Oh, well, that’s a good question. I think it was probably when I was a freshman in high school,” Lois mused. She set down her fork and took a quick sip of her coffee before continuing. “I started working for the school newspaper, mostly just to get my dad off my back about not having any extracurriculars, you see.” She gave Clark a bit of a crooked smile. “Anyways, another student and I ended up exposing a math teacher who was selling good grades to the football team. I kinda got hooked after that, I think. And then the summer between freshman and sophomore year, I managed to land an internship at the Daily Planet. I was mostly in charge of making sure the Editor-in-Chief got his coffee and copying papers for the senior reporters, but I just loved the atmosphere. And I decided that’s what I wanted to do.”

Lois lowered her eyes, a bit embarrassed about the admission. Next to her, Clark mumbled something too quiet for her to hear, and she tilted her head toward him. He looked lost in thought, staring at his dinner plate as he chewed pensively, but after a moment, he met her gaze, his eyes still holding that same intensity as earlier. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but then frowned, raised his eyes to his mother, and shook his head. Lois was confused by the interaction, but Martha jumped in.

“Clark has been looking into what he needs to do to get his GED so he can maybe take some classes at a local community college. There’s one in the next town over, not too far away,” the older woman supplied, smiling across the table at her son. He nodded and smiled back at his mom, then quickly took a large bite of a roll as he lowered his eyes to his plate.

“That’s a great idea, Clark,” Lois said encouragingly. “Are you interested in journalism?”

“Um, maybe? I really d-don’t know y-yet,” he stuttered. “I-I like to write. Or, at least, I used to.” He pushed his green beans around on his plate absently with his fork, and Lois noticed his hand trembling slightly. She glanced across the table to Martha, but the older woman didn’t seem to be concerned.

“That’s wonderful. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, of course.”

“Th-thank you, Lois, I appreciate that.” Clark grinned at her, but his eyes were guarded and unsure again. He lifted his coffee cup and hesitantly sniffed the liquid before taking a cautious sip. Grimacing, he set the mug back down. “I don’t know how you all drink this. I just can’t get used to the taste. It’s so… What’s the word? …Bitter, I think.”

Lois quickly set down her own coffee cup and covered her mouth as she laughed, maybe a little too loudly.

“It’s an acquired taste, for sure,” she agreed. “Jimmy—my friend Jimmy Olsen, who works with me at the Planet—do you remember him, Clark?” He shook his head in response, and Lois continued. “He drinks his coffee with so much milk and sugar that it’s barely recognizable as coffee.”

Clark laughed—a full, deep laugh. It was a beautiful sound, Lois thought, and she had a sense of almost feeling honored to be hearing it from him after everything he’d been through. Across from her at the table, Martha reached over and placed her hand on top of Jonathan’s, and the couple shared a knowing look, reflecting Lois’s thoughts.

“Maybe I’ll have to try milk and sugar then,” Clark said, still smiling as though he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. He scanned the table quickly and then picked up his plate, pushed back his chair, and stood up. “If you’re
finished, can I—can I take y-your p-plate, Lois?”

He blinked a few times, and Lois detected a hint of agitation replacing the happiness in his expression, although he tried to hide it. She smiled softly at him and handed him her mostly empty dinner plate.

“Thank you, Clark.”

With a tight smile of his own, he nodded, took her plate, and then moved to the other side of the table, offering the same to his parents.

“Yes, thank you, honey. Oh, I’m stuffed,” Martha announced, setting her plate on top of Lois’s in Clark’s now-full hands. “Lois, dear, would you like some more coffee? Or dessert? I made an apple pie and a chocolate cake.”

Lois opened her mouth to decline, but hesitated. She wasn’t ready to leave yet.

“Oh, well, I guess I can never resist chocolate, Martha.”

The older woman smiled knowingly, winked at Lois, and then stood and followed her son into the kitchen.



Clark took his time washing the dishes as his mother began slicing the chocolate cake and apple pie. Normally, he’d be the first one lining up for dessert. He’d have one big slice of each. And probably some ice cream, too. The apple pie was his favorite, but her chocolate cake was also incredible. And she’d told him many times in the last three weeks that he could have both of whatever she’d made. He didn’t have to choose one or the other. But tonight, he politely declined dessert; he’d eaten enough at dinner, and he was quite full.

Plus, he needed some space.

The woman sitting at their table, talking easily with his dad about what types of crops they grew on the farm and in the region, she made him confused. He wasn’t even sure why. When their eyes met, he forgot what he was doing, as if he didn’t struggle enough with memory issues already, and when she spoke… Her fluid, smooth voice disarmed him, and if he didn’t pay very close attention, he’d miss what she said.

And so, being around her, while it felt amazing, was also exhausting.

He remembered her from almost a month ago. She’d rescued him from that prison he’d been held at for fifteen years. He owed her so much. Just like his parents, who had held on all that time and never given up looking for him. He owed them too. But with Lois, there was something more. She’d been the first person he’d seen outside of the warehouse. The first person to call him by his name in fifteen years. She’d held his hand in the ambulance, when he’d been terrified of the emergency workers touching him and prodding him and monitoring him. And then she’d stayed with him at the hospital until his parents had arrived, just as she’d promised she would.

And now, as he methodically dried the dishes and put them away in the cupboard, he stole glances at her. He loved the way her shoulder-length dark hair framed her face and the way her smile seemed to light up the whole room. Her laugh made him want to smile and laugh too, which was something he still struggled with. And for some reason he couldn’t explain, he longed to touch her. He wanted to feel her hand in his. Maybe even a hug.

He mentally shook himself as he put away the final plate and turned back toward the kitchen table. His mother set down a generous slice of chocolate cake in front of Lois, and the younger woman’s eyes widened as she smiled enthusiastically.

“Oh, my goodness, Martha, this looks just incredible,” she commented, picking up her fork and digging in.

Clark felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward in the beginning of a smile.

“I hope you like it, dear. Clark helped to make it, you know,” his mom explained, her gaze shifting briefly to Clark. He shook his head.

“No, Mom, I-I just stirred the—the b-batter and took it out of the—of the oven,” he replied. He turned away so he didn’t have to see Lois’s reaction, folded the dish towel up neatly, and set it on the counter.

“You’ll be a master chef in no time, Clark,” Lois declared. “And you’re probably already better than me in the kitchen. I’d have forgotten to take it out of the oven, even if that was my only job. And it probably would have caught fire, somehow. That tends to happen when I’m in the kitchen.”

She did it again. Made him smile. He turned back around and rested against the counter, watching his parents and Lois eat, and he crossed his arms over his chest. The conversation slipped back to agriculture, and his dad started into a long lecture about the importance of field crop rotation. Lois listened intently, nodding at regular intervals and asking insightful questions, but he saw her occasionally glance his direction as well.

A familiar pain started to pulse between his eyes, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. He needed to rest for a bit, or at least get out of the light and close his eyes. Ten, fifteen minutes tops should be enough.

He felt his mother watching him, and he looked up at her, his face taut with pain. She nodded to him, and he knew that she’d explain his absence to Lois. Then he again lowered his eyes and turned toward the hallway. A moment later, he collapsed onto his bed as the room began to sway around him. The thick comforter was still warm from his nap several hours prior, and he buried his head into his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chin. The silent darkness of the room calmed him, as it always did, and he felt the pain receding again, fading to a dull ache. He closed his eyes. A few minutes of rest, and then he could join them again.

A gentle knock at his door woke him up a bit later, and he quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Clark, honey, are you okay?” his mother asked, raising her voice slightly so he could hear her.

He jumped out of bed and flipped the light switch on, bathing the room in yellowish unnatural light. He then cleared his throat and pulled open the door, pasting a smile on his face.

“Yeah, Mom, s-sorry. I, uh, guess I—I guess I fell asleep,” he fumbled, running a nervous hand through his hair. He glanced back over his shoulder at the clock on the wall in his room. 7:15 p.m. He’d been asleep for about thirty minutes. Yikes. “Lois isn’t—she isn’t g-gone yet, is she? I wanted to say goodbye.”

Martha shook her head with a knowing smile.

“No, dear, she hasn’t left. And I don’t think she’s going to tonight. It’s been snowing pretty hard for a while now actually. So you just relax a bit. Sorry to wake you, honey.”

His mom turned and left, and he shut the door again and stumbled back over to the bed. He still felt exhausted, and that dull headache still pulsed behind his eyes.

But he’d slept long enough. He pushed himself up into a sitting position on his bed, his back resting against the dark oak headboard, and picked up the book on his nightstand. He’d spent a lot of time reading in the last three weeks, anything he could get his hands on, really. He’d read the newspaper, his mom’s National Geographic magazines, and his old paperback copies of the Chronicles of Narnia. Then he had moved on to read some more classic literature, including his current read, To Kill a Mockingbird. He flipped to page 79, marked by a plain blue bookmark, found his place, and began reading.

He’d give himself a chapter, maybe, before he’d head back out into the living room and see what Lois was up to. He knew right now his dad would be out at the barn, and his mom would probably be talking with Lois. A wave of guilt washed over him, and he frowned as he sat up straighter. Lois had come here all the way from Metropolis, and here he was, hiding out in his bedroom. He shook his head and closed his book.

He owed her more than that.

If not for her, he’d still be…

His chest tightened as he forced himself to his feet. Don’t think about it. You’re safe now.

Safe. Right. He’d felt safe when he was ten. He’d felt loved and safe and protected. And look what had happened.

No, it won’t happen again. You’re safe now.

His heart began racing, like it always did when he couldn’t keep the bad thoughts out of his mind. He grabbed onto his dresser for support and screwed his eyes shut as images and memories flashed in front of him. White walls of a small room, locked from the outside. White walls of a slightly larger room with a plain, cold steel platform in the center. The straps tightening around his legs, chest, and arms to hold him down. A surgical knife moving toward his abdomen. Pain as they cut into him. But he couldn’t scream, or else. Be quiet, or else. No crying, or else.

“Clark?”

He exhaled sharply as his mother’s voice from the other room pulled him out of the memory. Wiping the thin layer of sweat from his forehead, he willed his feet to move him forward, and his hands shook as he reached out to open the door. He quickly fixed an unperturbed expression on his face, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and moved toward the light at the end of the hallway.

The light that would lead him toward her. Lois. “You’re safe here, Clark.”

Safe. He was. Really.





Snow. Clean white snow. And lots of it.

Lois stood on the porch and stared out across the darkening fields in disbelief. Just two hours ago, it had been a light rain. But now, heavy snow fell, and a thick layer, almost a foot deep already, covered the driveway, her rental car, and everything as far as she could see. And as the darkness grew into the evening, there was no end in sight.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Yep, she should have moved to California with her sister Lucy. Next to her, Martha Kent shook her head and then put an arm around Lois’s shoulders.

“Well, dear, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere until morning, at least,” Martha lamented, following Lois’s gaze out over the open fields. “This storm sure moved in fast. We weren’t expecting any snow until late tonight.”

“Oh, Martha, I can’t impose on you like that,” Lois argued. However, she knew Martha was right. The roads were not safe, and her small rental car would not handle well in the deep snow. She was stuck.

“It’s not an imposition, dear. We’re happy to have you. Now come on back inside, and I’ll send Clark out to your car to get your bags,” Martha instructed, guiding the younger woman back inside. Lois followed Martha, who led her over to the couch. “You just sit here, and I’ll get you a fresh cup of coffee. Clark?”

Lois slipped off her coat and laid it across the back of the couch, then sat back into the cushions as she contemplated her situation. Perry was going to be furious. And the hotel—she needed to call the hotel so they didn’t just cancel her reservation. After all, she should be able to make it back to Wichita tomorrow. At least, that’s what she hoped.

Clark emerged from the hallway, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He glanced briefly to Lois and smiled, then turned to his mother.

“What is it, Mom?”

“Lois will be staying with us tonight, honey. Can you head out to her car and bring in her luggage?” Martha poured a cup of coffee and started over toward Lois, careful to not spill the hot liquid.

“Sure, of course,” Clark answered, his gaze drifting again to Lois.

She watched as he turned toward the front door, grabbed his coat from the rack, and then smiled at her shyly before disappearing outside. Martha set Lois’s mug down on the coffee table.

“I’ll get the guest bedroom ready for you, dear. It’s just down the hallway here across from Clark’s room.”

Martha tilted her head toward the hallway and started to turn away, but then stopped and spun back around. Her eyes darted to the front door, from which Clark had exited just a moment before, and then back to Lois. Sighing deeply, the older woman took a seat next to Lois and then reached out and took Lois’s hands, her eyes turning stormy.

“I haven’t said this enough, Lois, but thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” Lois felt Martha’s hands trembling, and a tear slid quietly down Martha’s cheek. “I honestly never thought I’d have my son back again. Although the last month has been hard, Clark, well, he’s—he’s already healed so much, Lois. But you saw him at dinner, I’m sure. He…he sometimes has lapses where he can’t remember what he was about to say or do, and he still has trouble speaking. He’s still got a long ways to go. You’ve been so kind to him. I just…I just needed to thank you again, Lois. If not for you, he’d still be in that horrible place, with them doing God knows what to him.”

The sincerity of Martha’s words gave Lois goosebumps, and Lois nodded and closed her eyes tightly to hold back her tears. Martha leaned into her, and the two women embraced.

“It makes me so happy to see him. And to see you all together,” Lois whispered into Martha’s ear.

She pulled back out of the hug, and their eyes met again. Martha reached up and brushed the tears off her cheeks just as the front door opened. Lois quickly turned around in her seat and grimaced as she saw Clark struggling to carry in Lois’s two large luggage bags and computer bag. She jumped up to her feet.

“Oh, goodness, Clark, I’m sorry. Here, let me help.”

“No, I got it, Lois, really, I—”

“I should have asked you to just get the one bag. I don’t really need both, I just—”

And then, in her hurry to get to Clark, her amazing grace and balance and poise flew right out the window. She tripped over something—what, she wasn’t sure—and stumbled directly into Clark’s arms. He dropped her luggage and somehow managed to stop her fall, his arms wrapping around her tightly. In the awkward position she landed in, her face and hands ended up pressed against his chest. His strong, solid chest. Oh, wow, she thought, momentarily distracted by the feeling under her fingers, and then she immediately scolded herself and pushed away from him.

“Sorry! Sorry, I—”

His hands moved to grip her shoulders, steadying her on her feet. Oh, God, his hands are strong too. She shook her head. Get a hold of yourself, Lois.

“No, I’m—I’m sorry. Are—are you okay?” he faltered, biting his lip nervously. His hands released her when he realized she was stable, and he moved back a step, putting a few feet of distance between them. His eyes darted over her shoulder, to where his mother now stood, and then back to her.

“Yes, thank you, Clark. I’m fine, I-I just tripped. I must be tired, or I dunno, something,” she mumbled, her face turning bright red. She smoothed out her T-shirt with shaky hands and then grimaced as she watched him bend over and pick up her luggage bags again. “Please, let me help, Clark. Here…” Her voice trailed off as she reached out and took her computer bag from him. He swallowed tightly and then nodded to her.

“I’ll just put your bags in the—” He squinted as though trying to remember something, but shook his head again and restarted. “I’ll just put them in the e-extra b-bedroom.”

“Sure, okay. Thank you again, Clark,” Lois said, and she sidestepped to give him room. He smiled weakly and moved past her and down the hallway. Lois’s eyes followed him and then shifted to Martha. The older woman stood with her arms crossed over her chest and worry in her eyes. Lois grimaced again. “Sorry.”

“Oh, dear, it’s okay. I’m glad he caught you though!” Martha smiled with a hint of a twinkle in her eye. “I’d better go get your room ready, dear, and then I’ve got a few chores to do before bed. Jonathan and I usually get to sleep pretty early around here, but Clark keeps odd hours, I’m afraid. He hasn’t really adjusted yet in that regard. So he may…” She paused and glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway before continuing. “…he may be up late. You’re welcome to anything we’ve got in the fridge, or cupboards—there’s tea and coffee and more cake.” Martha smiled again and winked at Lois, then turned and started off down the hallway. “Oh, and the wi-fi works best out here in the living room. The password is Buttercup… Don’t ask.”

Lois chuckled as a small smile grew on her face. “Thank you, Martha.”

Martha’s kind, wise eyes shone again, almost with a trace of mischief, and then she disappeared down the hallway. Lois shouldered her computer bag and moved over to the couch. She did actually need to get some work done; the revisions to her article on the Metropolis Zoo reopening were due in a few hours to make it to the afternoon edition the next day, and that was just the thing she needed to help her wind down after the long day. She settled back on the couch, took a long sip of her coffee, and pulled out her laptop.



Her fingers paused on the keyboard, and she bit her lip in concentration as she reread the final paragraph of her article. It was okay. Not great, but…something was missing. She frowned.

“Hmmm, I just don’t…”

A rustling from across the room reminded her that she was not alone, and she looked up at the dark eyes staring back at her from over the top of a novel. Clark raised his eyebrows and lowered his book.

“Sorry, I’m having trouble with the final paragraph. Sometimes I talk to myself,” Lois explained, her cheeks turning slightly red as she smiled at him. Curiosity flickered in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated.

“Uh… Can—can I, um, w-watch you work?” he stuttered, setting the book down on the side table next to him and then rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He scooted to the edge of his chair.

“Sure, Clark. Here, come sit next to me,” she offered, patting the cushion next to her on the couch. He smiled, a wide goofy grin that made Lois’s heart flutter, and then stood and moved across the room toward her. She mentally shook herself. She was not allowed to be attracted to him. No, it wouldn’t be right.

He settled into the spot next to her, leaving a good amount of space between them, and she shifted her laptop so he could read the screen. After a second, he blinked a few times and frowned. He then hopped up from the couch, moved into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a pair of black-framed reading glasses. He sat next to her again, smiling tightly, and then adjusted the glasses and began reading silently to himself, his lips moving ever so slightly and his brow furrowed in concentration.

Adorable. No, Lois. Focus.

She forced her eyes closed and then opened them again as she shifted her gaze back to the computer screen. The final paragraph stared back at her, her cursor blinking tauntingly, and she almost growled at it in frustration. This was an easy article; she didn’t understand why she was having so much trouble. She inhaled sharply.

Oh, wow, his aftershave. It smells so good… No, Lane, knock it off!

Next to her, Clark continued reading, oblivious to her mental gymnastics. After another moment, he reached a hand up toward the screen and tentatively pointed to the second paragraph.

“W-what do—what do you mean here by this, uh… ‘Regulators had rev—revoked the zoo’s accredit—accreditation due to gross neg—neg—’” He paused and swallowed hard with frustration. But Lois gave him a kind smile.

“Negligence,” she read, her voice soft.

Clark lowered his eyes for a moment, but then raised them again with a sort of quiet determination. He took a deep breath and started the sentence over, his voice much steadier. “‘Regulators had revoked the zoo’s accreditation due to gross negligence and multiple accounts of animals suffering from severe malnutrition.’” He looked to Lois, who grinned and nodded emphatically.

“Yes, good job,” she praised. He gave a weak smile and continued to listen intently as she clarified the meaning of the sentence. “So, in this paragraph here, I’m trying to explain to the readers what happened three years ago when the zoo was shut down. All zoos in the country have to be accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums, and that means that the zoo has been evaluated to ensure it meets appropriate standards for animal welfare and management. The Metropolis Zoo was assessed three years ago when the AZA received reports of animal neglect and malnutrition—”

“Malnutrition?” he interjected. He lowered his eyes for a moment. “Does that mean they were not being fed enough?”

“Basically, yes,” Lois answered. “The reports also alleged that the animals’ pens were not being cleaned and that they were not receiving proper medical treatment.”

Clark nodded in understanding, and his eyes seemed to darken momentarily as he adjusted his glasses. He shifted his gaze back to the computer screen.

“So, um, the zoo was shut down because…because they weren’t taking proper care of the animals and the—the AZA…uh, took away the zoo’s accred-accreditation,” Clark summarized. He looked back to Lois, who nodded, and then he frowned and started reading again.

Lois watched as he worked his way down the page, occasionally stopping and blinking as though trying to interpret the meaning of the text. When he reached near the end of the article, he cleared his throat and looked at her almost nervously. He again raised his hand to the page and tentatively pointed at a phrase on the screen.

“I-I think this sh-should be ‘affected’ w-with an ‘a’, not an ‘e’…”

His voice trailed off, and Lois frowned as she reread the sentence he’d pointed to. She almost laughed; he’d indeed caught one of her many typos—and it was one that even her copy editor had overlooked since the article had already been through one round of editing.

“You’re right, Clark. Nice catch. Thank you.” He sat up a little straighter, another broad grin on his face, and Lois couldn’t help but smile back. “Now if only you could help me fix up this final paragraph here.”

He squinted at the screen again, reading, and then looked up at her in confusion.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he admitted.

And he was right. There really was nothing wrong with it. But she felt like it wasn’t quite how she wanted to end the article, and she sighed and nodded.

“I know. It’s just…not as impactful as I want,” she said. When he gave her a confused look, she added, “I guess it’s this—I’ve explained what happened when the zoo was shut down and announced that the zoo is reopening on a certain date, with specific changes being implemented. But what assurance does the public have that the new zoo commission will keep animal welfare at the forefront of their agenda? The AZA hasn’t insisted on more frequent inspections, and several members of the old management team for the zoo are still heading the new management team. So, is anything really going to change?”

“Oh, right, I see,” Clark agreed pensively. He blinked several times and then reread the final paragraph for a third time. “Um…” Hesitantly, he scooted a little closer to Lois and pointed to a sentence in the next to last paragraph. “W-what if you m-move this sentence, this, uh, quote from the—the AZA inspector to the last sentence?” Nervously, he glanced at Lois and then back to the screen. “Uh, I-I think the quote is…the quote says…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, struggling to find the words he wanted. But Lois understood his suggestion, and a huge, bright smile grew on her lips.

“Clark, you’re a genius. That’s perfect!” she exclaimed. She quickly shifted the computer back onto her lap, and her fingers flew over the keyboard as she copied, pasted, deleted, and retyped the final two paragraphs, moving the sentence Clark had suggested to the final paragraph and reorganizing the previous paragraph slightly. “There. What do you think now?”

He smiled and nodded.

“Better. Right?”

“Definitely,” Lois agreed. “Thank you, Clark.”

She suddenly had a strong urge to kiss him. He was so close to her—only a few inches away now—and he smelled so good. But it wouldn’t be right. No, definitely not right. So she just smiled at him again and then shifted slightly to surreptitiously put a tiny bit more space between them. She quickly finalized the article and emailed it to Perry, then closed her laptop. Clark still sat next to her, a silly grin on his face, and he watched her as she put her laptop away in its case. However, as she straightened up and raised her eyes to his, his smile faded, and he blinked again and removed his reading glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand gently on his back. He flinched slightly, but nodded and cleared his throat.

“I-I just get headaches s-sometimes still,” he explained. “It’s worse when I’m r-reading, although the glasses help. I—” He shook his head again and closed his eyes. “Everything can get…blurry, especially when I’m reading on a computer. The d-doctor says—the doctor says the headaches and—and blurry vision and everything are—are probably b-because of that…that…” He paused again and frowned, his frustration evident. Lois rubbed a slow circle on his back, waiting patiently as he gathered his thoughts. “…probably because of that drug they were g-giving me.”

She found herself blinking back tears as she listened. She really knew nothing of his medical condition or prognosis, except for the brief conversation she’d had with Martha earlier when Martha had mentioned his memory and speech issues. But she supposed that being dosed with a strange mineral-derived drug for fifteen years would be expected to cause long-lasting effects. Her hand stilled on his back, and he turned his head toward her and gave her a weak smile.

“Most of the time, I feel fine,” he assured her, as though he sensed that she was concerned. “And it’s all much b-better than…than when I was…” He didn’t finish his thought this time, but they both understood. Lois nodded emphatically and wiped a tear off her cheek.

“Of course,” she said quietly. She leaned into him as he scooted closer to her, and her arm moved to wrap around him, his head coming to rest on her shoulder. His large body shuddered against her, and she realized that he too was struggling to hold back tears. Her arm tightened around him involuntarily as she felt a sudden surge of protectiveness toward him.

And that strange connection she’d felt the first time she’d seen a picture of him as a young boy, when Martha had shown up at the Daily Planet begging her to help find him—that strange pulse of knowing him, as though they’d been friends in another lifetime or another world somewhere—she felt that again. Only much stronger this time. And growing.

And she absently wondered, as she closed her eyes and felt his tears wet her shirt, whether the snow could just continue through the night and into the next day so she wouldn’t have to leave for Wichita in the morning.



Clark stood shivering at the end of the long driveway, his coat pulled tightly around him, as his father plowed the two feet of snow to clear a path to the main road. Unfortunately, the roads were drivable; the snow had stopped around midnight, and road crews had done a fantastic job of plowing. Which meant Lois would be leaving for Wichita soon.

He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans, wishing he’d remembered a pair of gloves, and he recalled his conversation with Lois late last night. His mild embarrassment at crying when she held him had been all but forgotten when she’d suggested they go over the requirements for his college application together. She’d opened her laptop back up, searched the Internet for Granville Community College, and shown him how to find admissions information. He was still hopeless with technology, but she’d explained everything clearly and logically, and he’d been able to follow along as she’d navigated the website. They’d found out he did in fact need a GED to apply and that the small college actually had a fairly rigorous journalism program, with ties to the Wichita Post and Kansas Star.

He still wasn’t sure if he was interested in journalism, but after helping Lois with her article, he did feel as though he would definitely be suited to a career in writing.

His dad slowed the tractor to a stop in front of him and motioned for Clark to climb up. They then rode back toward the barn in an amicable silence. The early morning sunlight peeked through the clouds to the east, and Clark found
himself having to shield his eyes from the bright white snow covering the fields in every direction.

He shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment. Bright white everywhere. Nope. He shifted his gaze to the barn, a large structure painted red. Bright red. Not blood red. And then he looked to his dad, whose head was covered with a blue and black wool hat. His dad smiled at him, stopped the tractor, and shut it off, the engine’s loud rumble quieting abruptly. The older man then patted Clark gently on the back.

“Your mom probably has breakfast ready by now,” he said, motioning toward the house. “Why don’t you head on inside, and I’ll check on Ginny one more time.”

Clark nodded and hopped down from the tractor, allowing his gaze to jump to the pile of wood logs covered by a blue tarp, then to the yellow siding of the farmhouse. His own black boots and dark-wash jeans. The multicolored wind chimes his mom hung on the porch. Anything but plain, bright white.

Plain white was dangerous. It made him slip back in time and forget where he was.

Nope, he needed color. Lots of color. Even black, even darkness, was much better than bright white.

He opened the door to the farmhouse and was greeted by warm air smelling of bacon, eggs, and cinnamon rolls. Ah, his mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls. Lois was in for a treat.

Motion and voices from the kitchen distracted him as he kicked off his boots and removed his hat and coat. He looked up sharply. The two women worked side by side, his mom directing Lois as they joked and laughed together.

“See, a little bit of nutmeg is just what you need,” his mom said, pulling a large tray of rolls out of the oven. “Can you smell it?”

Lois leaned over the tray, inhaled deeply, and groaned.

“Yes, wow. Martha, I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Don’t forget to take the eggs off the heat now, dear, or they’ll burn.”

“Right!”

Lois scooted over to the stovetop and quickly removed the scrambled eggs from the heat as she stirred them, and Clark smiled. His mom had given him the same lesson—Breakfast Foods 101, she’d called it. How to make scrambled eggs. Low heat, stir often, don’t overcook.

“Oh, Clark, honey—how are the roads? Your dad was able to clear the driveway?” his mom asked as she began removing the cinnamon rolls from the baking tray and placing them on a serving dish.

Upbeat. Positive. Don’t show them that you’re anything less than excited, he rebuffed, forcing a neutral expression.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, the roads look clear n-now. Lois shouldn’t have any trouble g-getting to—getting to Wichita.” Seeing a stack of plates and utensils sitting at one corner of the counter, Clark moved to the kitchen and then started setting the table. “Dad is just checking on Ginny. He’ll be—”

And his brain shut off. It did that sometimes, and it frustrated him to no end. He lost whatever he was going to say, and he knew there was no way to recover it. Mercifully, it hadn’t happened to him last night when he’d been alone with Lois. But it was still embarrassing enough to have it happen at all. He closed his eyes and felt his shoulders tense as he set down another plate and tried to remember what he’d been talking about. His mom beat him to it, however.

“Lois, Ginny is our milk cow. She banged up her leg last week, and Jonathan has been babying her like I’ve never seen before!”

Martha laughed and started moving serving dishes to the table. Clark thanked her silently and then pulled out a chair for Lois.

“Thank you, Clark,” Lois murmured. She sat, and the three of them were joined by Jonathan just a few minutes later.

Over breakfast, Clark listened quietly as Lois explained to Martha what they’d found about the community college the night before. She also mentioned how Clark had helped with her article, and he found himself blushing at her praise. The two women then continued talking about the recipe for the cinnamon rolls, and Martha promised to write it out for Lois and send it to her via email. Lois claimed, with a self-deprecating laugh, that if she could manage to make the cinnamon rolls at home on her own, it would be the first dish she could make that didn’t involve chocolate. Clark chuckled at the thought as he ate his third cinnamon roll and piled an extra helping of eggs on his plate. And the four continued their easy chatter.

Soon, however, much too soon, breakfast was finished.

An odd sort of fluttering in his stomach gripped him as he stood, collected everyone’s plates, and began washing the dishes. His dad excused himself back out to the barn to finish up chores, and his mother cleared the leftovers from the table. After arranging the extra food in appropriate containers in the fridge, she came up behind him and placed a gentle hand on his back. She could feel his tension; she always could. She was almost too intuitive.

“Honey, why don’t you help Lois take her luggage out to the car, and I’ll finish up the dishes.”

He set down the plate he’d been scrubbing and nodded. After quickly drying his hands, he hurried down the hall toward the guest bedroom. The door was cracked open a few inches, and he heard Lois’s voice and some rustling from inside.

“No, Perry, I’m leaving in just a few minutes, so I can still catch the keynote speech… Yes, I’m fine. I can handle driving in the snow, Perry… I know, I know, Chief…”

Clark knocked quietly on the door, not wanting to disturb her, but also not wanting to eavesdrop. The door creaked open a few more inches, and Lois leaned back from her spot near the bed, her expression breaking into a huge bright smile as their eyes met.

And that sensation of his stomach fluttering hit him again. Awkwardly, to hide his reaction, he gave a little wave. She nodded and held up a finger, which he thought might mean, “Just a minute,” or something to that effect, and turned away from him.

“Perry, I have to go… Yes, I’ll call you later… Sure, yes, the mayor’s speech notes are on my laptop, so I’ll do the write up tonight… Yes, Chief. Goodbye.”

With a huff, she hung up her phone and stood.

“Sorry about that, Clark. My boss—he’s the best, but he can be a bit long-winded sometimes,” she explained with a crooked smile. “What’s up? I was just finishing up packing.”

“I, uh, that is, my mom, she—she suggested I—” He stopped and shook his head. Why did he have so much trouble speaking still, even after almost a month? As always, Lois stood patiently and waited for him to gather his thoughts again, her beautiful dark eyes smiling at him. He restarted, speaking slowly and carefully to avoid stuttering again. “Can I help you take your luggage to the car?”

“Of course,” she replied easily. “But this time, you take one bag, and I take one bag. Okay?”

He felt his face heat up as he recalled Lois tripping and falling into him the evening before when she’d thought he was overburdened by her two luggage bags and computer bag. Her hands pressing into his chest had caused that odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. He quickly nodded in response.

“Deal.”

She smiled up at him and motioned to the heavier of her two bags, and together, they lugged the bags out through the hallway, into the living room, and to the car. The brisk winter air hit him, and although he had long sleeves on, the chilly breeze had him shivering almost instantly. Thankfully, their trip to the car was short, and they hurried back inside.

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Lois moving toward the kitchen, where his mother was still finishing the dishes. He turned to watch as the two women hugged and said their goodbyes. Lois wiped a tear from her eye, and then his mom let out a sigh and hugged the younger woman again.

“Thank you so much, Lois,” his mother murmured. He smiled but lowered his eyes as Lois whispered something back that he couldn’t quite hear. Maybe something about chocolate cake.

“Clark, I’m going to grab my computer bag and then say goodbye to your dad out at the barn,” Lois explained.

He looked up and nodded at her as she hurried off back toward the guest bedroom. His mother set down the dish towel and was almost immediately by his side, her arms wrapping around his waist lovingly. Although they often shared hugs for no real reason except that they could, this embrace felt different somehow. He returned the hug, pulling her closer to him, and he felt her shaking slightly.

“Everything okay, Mom?” he said quietly, holding her tighter.

“Everything is perfect, dear.”

She backed away as Lois came out down the hallway, a black computer bag slung over one shoulder. His stomach lurched, a feeling that was much different from the fluttering, he noted, as she headed toward the front door. And he realized that the slight nausea he felt was because he just really wasn’t ready to let her leave. With a quick glance at his mom, who gave him a knowing wink, he hurried after Lois and reached the door just before her. Holding it open, he smiled nervously at her and motioned her through.

“Why thank you, Mr. Kent,” she joked, returning his smile.

Clark grabbed his coat and followed her outside. Several minutes later, after Lois had said goodbye to his dad, he found himself staring into her deep brown eyes, smiling as she told him a joke that he hadn’t really understood. But he laughed and nodded anyways. Anything to see her smile and hear her laugh. Then her smile faded, and he frowned right along with her.

“It was really great to see you, Clark,” she said quietly, her eyes not leaving his. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are doing so well.”

“It’s all because of you,” he replied automatically, his eyes lowering to the ground. His shoes stuck slightly in the muddy snow, and he scuffed the ground a bit, watching distractedly as the snow turned brownish. “I can’t—I can’t even thank you enough.”

He was glad his voice hadn’t failed him at that moment, although there was so much more he felt he needed to say to her. Maybe he could write to her; writing might be easier than talking. Then again, he knew he was going to miss hearing her voice.

“Maybe, um, you don’t have a cell phone, do you?” she asked, biting her lip and shifting her computer bag up her shoulder higher.

He smiled weakly as he realized that her train of thought had been the same as his. But then he shook his head.

“No, not yet. But I-I, uh—”

And then it happened again, and his mom wasn’t around to save him. His brain clicked off, shutting down whatever he’d been about to say. He nearly growled in frustration, but managed to control himself, and as always, Lois seemed to understand him.

“Well, your mom has my number. So, um, I hope that you’ll maybe call me?”

He raised his eyes to hers, and the stomach flutter happened again. He couldn’t speak still, so he simply nodded. She smiled—that huge, bright smile that just warmed him—and then swallowed as she opened the door to her rental car. She hesitated and turned back toward him again.

Before he knew what was happening, her arms wrapped snugly around his waist, and she pressed herself up against him in a hug—the hug he’d thought about last night, the one he’d wanted to initiate but had held back. And it felt as good as he’d imagined. He closed his eyes and encircled her with his arms around her shoulders. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she settled her head on his chest, and for a moment, Clark forgot again where he was and what he was doing. All he felt was her. And a comforting, stabilizing warmth spreading from his chest and through his body.

And then, it was over. And she pulled away from him, smiled almost sadly, and climbed into her car.

“Goodbye, Clark.”

“Goodbye, Lois.”

At least he’d found his voice again. But a single tear slid down his cheek, and as he watched her drive away, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and wondered how he was going to earn enough money to buy himself a cell phone.