A/N - In Trusting Me, Trusting You, I called Wayne Irig's wife, Maggie, and added a son called Brett. My memory is that those names/characters were my invention for that fic. It suited this fic to have a wife and son for Wayne, so I used the same names.
From Chapter 10...
With a shared smile, they went into the storeroom to prepare the hot chocolate.
“How’s Bess?” Lois asked. “No sign of milk fever?”
“None at all. And Daisy is doing great, too.” He smiled again. “There’s no reason for either of us to be here.”
“No reason at all,” Lois agreed.
Clark made the hot chocolate, and they took them to bales he’d prepared. They sat down together. They sipped their chocolate in easy silence.
When her mug was almost empty, Lois said, “Is there anything between you and Lana?”
Chapter 11
Clark didn’t respond for several seconds, and Lois wondered if he’d heard. Eventually, he said, “Yes... No... And a whole lot of history.”
Figuring it was obvious he hadn’t given a complete answer, Lois waited, restraining her natural inclination to bombard him with questions.
“How long do you have?” he asked.
“As long as you want to talk,” she said.
“Are you cold?”
“A bit.”
“I’ll get the blanket.” He stood, placed his mug on the neighbouring bale, took the blanket from the chest and returned. He positioned the blanket over her knees and sat down.
Lois edged closer to Clark and arranged some of the blanket on his lap. She leaned a little, close enough that she could feel some of his body warmth.
Then, she waited.
For long moments, she listened to him breathe. Finally, he dragged in a long breath and began. “I took Lana to the Prom. We were good friends, and for a while, we thought there might be a future together.”
“But?” Lois prompted softly.
“But it didn’t work.” Lois felt his shrug. “I guess Lana is the closest thing I have to a sister. Anything beyond that just didn’t feel right.”
“She has Levi.”
“Yeah. She married Brett Irig. He is… was the neighbours’ son.”
“You said we went through Wayne Irig’s fields to get to the steers.”
“Yes. They live in the house you can see from your bedroom window. We were always close to them. Dad and Wayne… Mom and Wayne’s wife, Maggie.”
“Brett and you?”
“Yeah. We did a lot together.”
“Then he married your high school sweetheart.”
“She wasn’t my sweetheart. Not then. Not now.”
Lois had figured as much, but for some reason, it was good to hear Clark say it.
“Brett married Lana, and when Levi came along, they were ridiculously happy.”
“You were pleased for them?”
“Absolutely. They were a great family.”
The ‘were’ confirmed Lois’s suspicions that there was not going to be a ‘happily ever after’.
“One night last fall, there was a Farmers’ Co-op meeting in Smallville. Usually Dad, Wayne, Brett and I would go in together, but a tractor part had busted that day, so I was driving to Wichita to get a replacement. The other three went. On the way home, a truck went through a stop sign and ploughed into them.”
“Oh, Clark,” Lois said. “Oh no.” She inched a little closer and lightly rested her head on his shoulder.
“Dad and Brett were killed instantly. Wayne was on the other side of the car. He had some broken bones and internal bleeding. He needed surgery, but he’s OK now.”
“Clark, I’m so sorry,” Lois said. “I knew your father passed away last year, but…”
“So much loss,” Clark said in a voice weighed down with sorrow. “Mom and Lana lost their husbands. Wayne and Maggie lost their son. Levi and I lost our dads.”
“Aw, Clark.” Lois slid her hand under the blanket, resting it on his thigh, just up from his knee. After a moment’s hesitation, his hand covered hers.
“Time went on, and we all tried to adjust. Then Lana started talking about moving to Boston to be with her family. They used to live in Smallville, but they moved about six years ago because Lana’s brother needs medical attention that isn’t available here.”
“If Lana moved, Wayne and Maggie would lose their grandson.”
“Yeah,” Clark said with a long sigh. “And that was about when Maggie started trying to push Lana and me together.”
Lois groaned. “That’s awful, Clark. But I can see why she would think it would be the perfect solution.”
“Except Lana and I don’t love each other,” Clark said. “And I don’t think we ever could… other than as friends.”
“Lana doesn’t want to marry you?”
“We haven’t talked about it. I’ve tried to pretend I’m oblivious. It’s not just Maggie. It seems half the town have us already married off.”
“Yeah.”
“But then it gets complicated,” Clark said.
“It’s already complicated. And tragic.”
“Mom heard some of the talk, and she is absolutely against me marrying Lana.”
“She doesn’t like Lana?”
“She loves Lana. Always has. But she cannot accept marriage for any other reason than being in love. She had that with Dad. Anything less… she thinks it cheapens marriage.”
“Which would hurt a lot when she’s grieving for her husband.”
Lois felt Clark nod. “And that has caused a huge rift between Mom and Maggie, who for most of their lives have been best friends.”
“And they had both already lost so much,” Lois said.
“Yeah. Mom is grieving her husband and worried about losing her son. Maggie is grieving her son and worried about losing her grandson. Mom was already distancing herself from her friends and the community. This made it worse.”
They fell silent, and Lois’s thoughts were filled with Clark, grieving for his father, trying to support his mother, and being thrust into a hopeless situation that threatened his friendship with Lana. She snuggled a little closer to him, enjoying his warmth, but also wanting to connect with him. “What do you think Lana wants?”
Clark sighed. “I think if I asked her to marry me, she would.”
“Why? When she doesn’t love you?”
“Because I’m close to Levi. Because at first, I tried to fill the huge gap that Brett left in Levi’s life. And then, when all this blew up, I couldn’t just dump the poor kid, so I sort of continued trying to be a pseudo father and wondering what Lana thought about me doing that. Wondering if she was hoping I’d propose because then she would be spared the decision about moving to Boston and breaking Maggie’s heart – again – or staying here and missing out on the support she needs from her own family.”
“There’s no chance her family will return to Smallville?”
“No.” Under the blanket, his hand squeezed hers. “What would you do?”
Lois snorted. “I am not the person to be asking.”
“Why not?”
“Because all of my relationships have been federal disasters.”
“That bad, hey?”
“Worse. I seem to be attracted to terrible men, with absolutely no conscience, who are completely untrustworthy. And even more damning,” she said, trying to smother the resentment from her voice, “is that I don’t seem to be able to learn from the disasters.”
His fingers closed around hers. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
She could feel his compassion. It went far deeper than mere words. She waited, feeling he had more he wanted to say.
“Lois,” he said. “There’s something I should tell you. Something I did that I realised I probably shouldn’t have done.”
The alarm bells started to clang, jarring and dissonant. “What?” she said sharply.
“I saw a copy of The Daily Planet. There was a story… the story you were writing.”
The alarm bells gave way to curiosity. “Were there arrests?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“And… and there were other details, too.”
“Who wrote the story?”
“Perry White.”
“Perry?” she squeaked.
“Yes.”
Her anger and shame rose, scorching her throat. She swallowed down the lingering bitterness. “Claude was mentioned?” she asked in a cool, steady tone.
“Yes.”
“He’s been arrested?”
“Yes.”
“Did he… did Perry say anything else?”
“He gave credit to you and emphasised the importance of your investigation in leading to the arrests.”
“Anything about Claude… and me?”
“Not in The Daily Planet.”
“But?”
“There were also some copies of The Star in the store.”
Lois groaned. “I can imagine.”
“I’m so sorry, Lois. Sorry for reading the papers. And sorry about what he did to you.”
She would not cry. She would not let Claude or his memory poison her time at the farm… her time with Clark.
Clark shifted a little on the hay, but his hold on her hand remained steadfast. “I think you could have your job back if you wanted it.”
“I got scooped,” Lois said. “I got scooped because I was chasing the wrong story because I believed my boyfriend when he told me he had information. I submitted a story to Perry that was factually incorrect, and the Planet was only saved from complete humiliation because Perry refused to publish it. And I missed the real story, which was that Claude was involved in the corruption up to his sleazy eyeballs.”
Clark turned his head and touched the lightest kiss into Lois’s hair. “I’m sorry I read the story,” he said. “I should not have done that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”
“Why did you?”
“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I went into the store looking for chocolate. There was a copy of The Daily Planet there, I saw the headline, I read the rest of the story.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“No! Of course not.”
Lois shrugged. “People are going to find out.”
“It’s none of their business,” Clark said. “It was none of my business.”
“Clark,” Lois said. “When you get to be as successful as I was, you have to make other people’s business your business in order to get the story. Often, they aren’t happy about that. Often, they’re just waiting for you to fall, so they can climb over the top of you and gloat at your downfall.”
“I guess so,” Clark said.
“Now that I’ve experienced a little bit of your life, I can see how… how toxic that is.”
“I bought all the copies of The Star and destroyed them.”
She clutched his hand tighter. “Thank you.”
“I kept the copy of The Daily Planet if you’d like to read it.”
The memories flared again. Being wrong. Being deceived. Being used. Believing in a liar. She packed them away – firmly and decisively. They were lessons learned, nothing more. Did she want to read Perry’s story? Did she want to relive her final few days in Metropolis?
She didn’t know. “Thanks.”
“I’ll keep the paper,” Clark said. “You can read it anytime you want.”
Clark always seemed to understand. “A week ago, I thought my life was effectively over,” Lois mused.
“And now?”
“Now, I’ve gained a different perspective. A better one.”
“If Perry offered you your job back, would you take it?”
Lois chuckled sombrely. “Not a fair question, Farm Boy.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m snug and warm in a barn in the middle of the night, watching a cow and her beautiful calf, surrounded by peace, and lured by the sense of tranquillity and… I don’t know… maybe the sense of how good this feels. Right now, I cannot imagine pounding those Metropolis streets in search of a story ever again.”
“But… it’s what you do. It’s what you have always wanted to do. And it’s what you do so incredibly well.”
“Yes. But I’m no longer sure it’s how I want to live. I’ve been thinking about what you said - that if you’d done some of the things you dreamed about, the price would have been missing time with your dad. If we choose one road, it’s inevitable we miss out on other roads.”
“I guess we have to try to work out which road is most important. Which is the one we really want.”
“I don’t know that anymore,” Lois admitted. “I want the excitement of chasing stories. I want the satisfaction of having my words inform people about what is happening in their world. I want to feel I have played a small part in bringing the bad guys to justice and making the world a better place. I have always wanted that. But the price is living a cutthroat, exhausting, lonely, meaningless, empty life in a relentless pressure cooker world. I’m no longer sure I want to pay that price.”
“I don’t think what you did was meaningless.”
She appreciated his words, more that she could ever explain. “It doesn’t compare with caring for a cow giving birth to her baby,” she said. “Or stitching up a steer’s leg. Or growing food. Or working to secure feed for your animals over winter.”
“It does compare,” Clark insisted. “It’s just different.”
“Very different.” She drew away from his body so she could look into his face. “Will you be honest with me please, Clark?”
“Of course.”
“Did you ask about my job because you think it’s time I left here?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, of course not.”
“Because I really don’t want to outstay my welcome.”
Clark chuckled, and his hand exerted the gentlest pressure to return to the warmth against his body. Lois did so, sighing with satisfaction at the comfort he so readily offered. “If you’re still here in six months, we’ll talk about outstaying your welcome,” he said. “But you still won’t have done it.”
“Six months!” But there wasn’t much impetus in her exclamation. Not as much as she would have expected. Staying for six months should seem totally impossible.
But somehow, it didn’t.
And Lois was too tired and too comfortable to try to work out if that were a good thing or a bad thing. Suddenly, she giggled.
“What?” Clark asked, sounding concerned.
“Did you get the chocolate?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you still have some?”
“Yes.”
“Is it in the house?”
“No.” He reached up to the hay behind them. “It’s right here.”
“Perfect,” she said.
~~~~
Lois had been asleep for over half an hour. Clark had decided three times he would wait ‘just another couple of minutes’, but they were still here.
Lois Lane was an incredible woman.
It would be easy to think that the atmosphere – the friendly darkness, the scent of the hay, the intimacy of hands linked under a shared blanket, the soft sounds of Bess and Daisy – had been the trigger to loosen his tongue and get him talking about the impossible situation with Lana and Levi, his mom and Maggie.
But it hadn’t been the atmosphere. It had been the woman.
Again.
It wasn’t that he didn’t-want-to-marry-Lana, but that he didn’t want-to-marry-her. Surely every woman deserved more than a man who was ambivalent about being with her. A man who married her because it seemed convenient for everyone.
His fear – irrational and unlikely – had been that he would marry Lana and then later meet a woman who was everything he’d ever wanted. Also, there was the more likely possibility of Lana meeting a man she loved yet being stuck in a friendship marriage with Clark.
But now…
In a few short days, everything had changed.
The ethereal image of the woman he would love had taken shape. She was courageous and determined, fun and resilient, and so, so beautiful.
She was Lois.
And Clark knew he couldn’t even pretend to have feelings for Lana when they didn’t compare in the slightest with the avalanche of his feelings for Lois.
She wasn’t with Jack Mackenzie.
She had been shamefully treated by Claude.
She was single.
She was also hurting and confused and guarded.
And very unlikely to consider a relationship with a Kansas farmer when her whole life was about being a successful city reporter.
And yet…
With her body tucked against his side and her head leaning on his shoulder, Clark couldn’t help but feel there was hope.
She had said she’d realised that in living the life she had chosen, she had unconsciously chosen not to live a different life, and maybe she was rethinking those choices.
If he’d been a normal man, it would be simple. Terrifying, but simple.
He’d ask her on a date and take his chance.
But what woman would want to be dragged into the complications and weirdness of being married to an alien?
Clark sighed.
Lois took in a deep breath and snuggled closer against his body.
He stood, supporting her shoulder so she didn’t collapse onto the hay bale. He lifted her easily and tucked the blanket around her body. “You fell asleep, Lois,” he whispered. “I’m taking you back to your room.”
He carried her across the yard, through the kitchen, and up the stairs. Once in her bedroom, he pulled back the bed covers and shot some warmth into them. Then he lowered her down, removed her shoes and covered her. He yearned to drop a light kiss to her cheek but forced himself to walk away.
“Goodnight, Lois,” he said, very low. Then, “I love you,” even lower.
~~~~
Lois managed to get downstairs and into the kitchen before seven-thirty the next morning, but only because she’d had an extremely quick shower.
Martha was there, drinking her coffee and eating toast.
“Sorry I slept in,” Lois said. “It must be the country air making me so tired.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Martha asked, looking concerned. “You went to bed early.”
“I’m fine,” Lois said. “Is Clark milking?”
“Yes, he left a few minutes ago.”
Lois headed for the door. “I’ll have breakfast when I get back,” she said.
She ran to the barn and found Bess grazing in the field and Daisy asleep under the tree.
Lois let herself into the field, closing the gate behind her. She slowly approached Bess, who stopped grazing and looked at her.
“How are you doing, Bess?” Lois asked, feeling a little strange to be addressing a cow. She walked right up to Bess and began stroking her neck. Bess stood very still, and as far as Lois could tell, she was enjoying the attention. Lois shuffled sideways and scratched along Bess’s spine.
“You have such a beautiful baby,” Lois said. “And when you gave birth, that was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. I did not think you were going to be able to get her out, but suddenly, there she was.”
Bess turned her head and gave Lois a lick on the thigh of her jeans.
“Clark says you do that to people you like, so I’m going to take it as a compliment,” Lois said, laughing at herself for continuing the conversation.
She heard a click behind her and turned to see Clark walking towards them. “What are you two ladies doing?” he said.
His smile caused a warm flow of pleasure through her insides, and Lois turned back to Bess. “I hope it’s OK that I came to see her,” she said.
“Of course it is,” Clark said, offering Bess the chunks of sugar beet in his hand.
“I shut the gate,” Lois informed him.
“Told you you’re a natural farmer.”
“Are you about to milk Bess?”
“Yes, I am.”
When Bess had finished the beet, they strolled back to the barn, and Clark prepared Bess’s feed. By the time it was ready, Bess was at the gate, waiting.
“Can I open the gate?” Lois asked.
“Yep.”
“What about Daisy?”
“She can stay under the tree,” Clark said. “Bess won’t be concerned.”
Bess came in and went straight to the bucket Clark had put there. She started eating, and Clark took another bucket and sat on a stool to begin milking.
“Don’t you tie her up somehow?” Lois asked.
“No. She won’t move.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“’Cause you look real close to her legs, and I thought cows could kick.”
“They can,” Clark said as squirts of milk started landing in the bucket. “But Bess won’t.”
“Are you going to take all the milk?”
“No. I’ll take enough to make her feel more comfortable and leave plenty for Daisy.”
“Martha said we will start drinking the milk soon.”
“Tonight.”
Daisy had woken up and come to the gate. “Is it OK if I go and pat her?” Lois asked.
“It would be great if you did,” Clark said. “I’ve been too busy to give her much attention.”
“Oh!” Lois said, struck by a sudden idea. “I can come when you milk and spend the time with Daisy.”
Clark turned from where his dark head was buried into Bess’s side. “You might need to get up a little earlier,” he said with a wide grin.
“Sorry. I slept in.”
“You slept out, too,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
She smiled to cover that she was feeling a little self-conscious. “I assume you were responsible for getting me safely back to bed?”
Clark nodded and returned his attention to the bucket, not that he’d stopped milking when his head has been turned away.
Lois opened the gate and went into the field, but stayed close enough that she could continue her conversation with Clark. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How did you know the milk was still going into the bucket when you weren’t looking?”
“I can hear it. I can tell if it hits the milk in the bottom, or the side of the bucket, or misses altogether by how it sounds.”
Daisy cautiously approached, and Lois held her hand towards the calf. “Could you milk with your eyes closed?” she asked Clark.
“Easily.”
“What if Bess moved?”
“I would sense she was about to move,” he said. “I can tell if she’s shifting weight from one foot to another.”
“You’re quite tuned in to her?”
“Yep.”
Daisy had sniffed Lois’s hand and not backed away, so Lois slowly stretched out towards the calf’s neck. She stroked the soft fur. “You’re a beautiful baby,” she murmured.
The calf seemed to like the petting, so Lois moved to her shoulders and then along her back. She scratched her little hips, and the calf leaned sideways in encouragement. Lois laughed softly. “Daisy,” she said, “you’re wonderful.”
~~~~
The sense of peace and wellbeing Clark always felt as he milked Bess was enhanced by Lois’s presence. He’d tuned in his hearing and listened to her quiet words to Daisy.
When each of Bess’s quarters was soft and comfortable, there were a couple of gallons in the bucket. He moved the bucket out from under her, reached for the bottle of mint, and began massaging Bess’s udder.
“That smells nice,” Lois’s voice said from behind him. “What is it?”
“Udder mint.”
She laughed at that. “There’s a mint for udders?”
“Bess has a bit of oedema. It’s quite common after calving.” He heard Lois’s footsteps stop just behind him.
“How does that help?”
He loved her thirst for knowledge, her desire to comprehend. “It helps ease the discomfort and breaks up the swelling to make it easier for her body to deal with it.”
Lois watched him for a moment, then drifted back to Daisy.
When he was satisfied that he’d worked Bess’s udder long enough, Clark stood and went to the gate, opening it, and allowing Bess to walk through.
“You’re doing great, Lois,” he said. “I appreciate you spending time with Daisy.”
“I really enjoy being with her. I’ll set my alarm and try to get here on time tomorrow morning.”
“Might depend on whether your sleep is interrupted and for how long.”
They shared a grin, then Lois said, “Thanks for telling me about the situation with Lana.”
“Thanks for listening.”
“Did it help you work out what you’re going to do?”
“Yes.”
His certainty caused a lift to her eyebrows. “And?”
“It’s not right to marry someone I don’t love,” he said. Particularly now that he was hopelessly in love with someone else.
If Lois had any reaction to that news, it was difficult to decipher in her expression. “Are you worried about how Lana might react?” she asked.
“I can’t even guess at how she might react.”
“What about the local people?”
“I think they’re expecting a wedding, so I figure a lot will be disappointed.”
“Their disappointment isn’t important. But maybe you should tell Martha. If you’re sure about your decision.”
“I spoke to Mom this morning.”
“What did she say?”
“She was pleased. She’s made so much progress this past week.” He swept his hand lightly down Lois’s arm. “Thank you.”
“I’m not sure what I’ve done, but I’m glad things are getting better for Martha.”
Clark opened his mouth and unplanned words spurted out. “Would you go out to dinner with me?”
She eyed him for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. “That’s a brilliant idea,” she said.
“It is?”
“Yes! If we go out to dinner in Smallville, Lana will hear about it. If she doesn’t seem to mind, you’ll know she’s relieved that you’re not wanting to marry her. If she does mind, you’ll know you need to talk to her.”
“I didn’t mean –”
“It will open the lines of conversation, and you and she will have a chance to be honest with each other.”
“I want –”
“And it will dampen down all the expectation of the town. It’s a great idea, Clark.”
He nodded slowly, his mind spinning. “You’ll go out with me?”
“Of course,” she said. “I think it’s a great plan.”
“Tonight?” he said weakly.
“Perfect,” she said. She gave Daisy a final pat. “We should get on with that wood.”
They walked back into the barn, and Clark picked up the bucket of milk, his mind still reeling.
“What will you do with the milk?” Lois asked.
“Mom will make clabber for the hens. It’s like yoghurt.” Clark stopped near the door to the storeroom. “I need to prepare Bess’s feed for tonight.”
Lois held out her hand. “I can take the milk to Martha.”
Clark gave her the bucket and lingered, watching as she walked away. He had a date with Lois! But somehow it had turned into a not-real date.
He was unsure whether to sigh or laugh out loud. The laughter won.
He had a date with Lois!
Last edited by Female Hawk; 07/01/24 04:46 PM.
