"There's no bed!"
Clark looked up from the cameras he was repositioning in front of the window. "What?"
His partner came out of the bedroom looking shocked. "There's…nothing! Just an empty frame… No sheets, no mattress, nada!"
Was this a joke? He stood and looked past her shoulder, lowering his glasses slightly. Sure enough…
"There was definitely a bed here before!" Lois stared back at the bedroom door, looking completely mystified.
Clark shrugged, replacing his glasses. "I guess the last guest wanted to keep it as a souvenir?"
She snorted. "They must have packed it with the towels. But do you expect me to believe housekeeping was in here and somehow didn't notice the bed was gone? This place is probably a petri dish!"
It was probably best not to confirm that assessment for himself. Instead, Clark just reached for the phone. "I'll let the front desk know. They probably won't even believe it—"
"Clark, no!" Lois grabbed his arm and reached over him to jab the hook switch, ending the call before he could even make it. "Do you know what will happen if they find out there's no bed in here?!"
Clark shrugged. "They'll probably just give us—" Oh! His eyes darted back to the window and the freshly repositioned cameras.
"A new room," she finished for him, releasing his arm.
"But…how are we going to sleep?"
Lois chewed her lower lip, sinking onto the sofa. "We'll just…have to make do, I guess. Maybe we can flip for the couch?"
Clark shook his head.
She huffed. "Well somebody—"
"—You take the couch. I'll just camp out on the floor."
Her eyes widened. "The floor?! But, Clark—!"
"I'll be fine," he insisted. It would certainly be easier on his invulnerable body than hers. He even had experience "roughing it". It would be fine.
**********
A startled scream woke him out of a sound sleep. He was nose-to-nose with Lois, a situation which only lasted a fraction of a second before he dropped onto the floor with a thud.
Lois sat up on the sofa and clicked on a nearby lamp. "Clark?! What are—how did—Why—?!!!"
His eyes took a moment to readjust to the sudden brightness. The cushion he'd appropriated for a pillow was still on the opposite side of the room, where he'd originally bedded down for the night. He scrambled up so that he was sitting at Lois's feet, his face burning.
She gaped at him. "You were floating!"
"Floating?" a nervous chuckle escaped him. "Wow, that must have been some dream you were having…"
Her eyes narrowed. "You. Were. Floating." She let out a gasp, and her hand reached out to touch his face. His glasses were still on the end table, and he saw the flash of realization in her eyes as she smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "Oh my god."
"Lois…"
She stood up and ran to the window, her breath quickening. Her heartbeat galloped.
Clark swallowed. "Lois, please…" He rose to his feet.
"You're Superman," she whispered.
"I'm Clark."
She turned to glare at him. "No, you're not!"
He glared back, stepping towards her. "Yes, I am. I'm Clark Kent, son of Martha and Jonathan. I was raised in Smallville, Kansas." His arms folded across his chest. "I'm the hack from Nowheresville."
Her face flushed, but only for a moment. She leaned back against the window, crossing her arms in imitation of his pose. "You're not from Earth!"
"It's the only home I've ever known," he said quietly, letting his arms drop.
She stared at him. "You…" She looked out the window, then back at him. For a moment, she seemed to contemplate the floor. "So, did that spray affect you, or not?"
"What?"
"The pheromones a couple weeks ago," she clarified. "Clark didn't sleep with me, but Superman kissed me. But Clark is you, and Superman is you." She stepped towards him. "So, what's the truth?"
He felt his face heat up. "The truth is…the spray never affected me."
"But you kissed me," she pointed out.
"Superman kissed you," he corrected.
"You're Superman." Her arms crossed again.
The room got considerably warmer. "I…" He swallowed. "Okay, yes. I kissed you. I'm sorry."
"Why?" Her confusion sounded genuine.
He tore his gaze away. "Because I knew an opportunity like that would probably never come again, and just once, I wanted—"
"No. I mean…" She turned his face to make him look at her again. The faint light from the window seemed to give her a halo. "Why are you sorry?"
"Because you don't feel that way about me."
Her eyes bored into his. For a while, the only sound in the room was the soft, rapid thudding of her heart. Then, her lips were on his.
The moan escaped his throat before he could stop it. After only a microsecond of pure bliss, he pulled away. "Lois…I'm not the man you want. Superman isn't even a real person; I just—"
Her finger laid across his lips, silencing him. "Clark, I did not do the dance of the seven veils for Superman."
Her words sent a thunderbolt through him. Suddenly, her finger was replaced by her lips again. This time, he did not protest. After a long, exquisite moment, she pulled away with a frustrated groan.
"Lois?"
Her forehead came to rest against his chest. "I just remembered: there's no bed!"
The End
