Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Advent Calendar for FoLCs

Lois emerged from the bedroom, drawn out by the smell of breakfast and coffee. The scent pulled her toward the kitchen, where Clark stood by the counter, his usual bright smile already in place. But today, the warm aroma of spices mingled with the coffee, something rich and unfamiliar that made her pause.

“Morning,” she mumbled, reaching for her mug. Her eyes landed on a tray of golden-brown pastries cooling on the counter, next to it was the bag with the number 21.

“Did you sleep well, honey?”

She gave him a kiss on his cheek and answered “Yes.” She then proceeded to untie the string. Reaching inside, her fingers brushed against something smooth and solid. She pulled out a small, intricately carved drum ornament.

“A drum?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clark nodded, his smile widening. “Today’s tradition comes from Ghana. Communities there celebrate the days leading up to Christmas with drumming and dancing. But it’s also a time for sharing food, especially treats like these.” He gestured to the pastries.

Lois reached for one and took a cautious bite. Her eyes widened as the sweet, nutty flavor hit her tongue. “What is this?”

“It’s called atwemo,” Clark explained. “They’re fried pastries, sometimes flavored with nutmeg. Perfect for snacking during celebrations.”

“You made these?” she asked, a hint of admiration in her voice.

“I did,” he said with a grin. “I thought we could bring some to share tonight. There’s a Ghanaian community hosting a drumming and dancing event and they invited us to join. Sharing food is very important in their culture, so I thought it would be nice to bring something too.”

---

The community center buzzed with energy, the steady pulse of drums drawing Lois and Clark into a room alive with color and movement.

Drummers sat in a circle, their synchronized rhythms filling the space, while dancers in vibrant fabrics moved with graceful precision, their bodies telling stories through each step.

Clark carried the tray of atwemo to a long table laden with steaming dishes. Lois lingered hesitantly until a smiling woman approached.

“Did you make these?” she asked, gesturing to the pastries.

“My husband did,” Lois admitted with a small, sheepish smile. “I can only eat them.”

The woman laughed warmly. “Well, if you’re willing, we can teach you to make something now.”

Lois blinked. “Now? I mean… sure.” Her insecurities stirred, but she didn’t want to offend.

She soon found herself at a table with ripe plantains, nutmeg, flour, and oil. “We’ll show you how to make kakro, plantain fritters. Quick, easy, and delicious!”

Clark caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Lois rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

Guided by the women, she peeled and mashed the plantains, added spices and flour, and carefully shaped the mixture into balls.

“It’s all about balance,” one explained. “Too much flour, and it’s heavy. Too little, and it falls apart.”

As the fritters sizzled in hot oil, the woman placed a golden one on a plate. “You’re a natural. And as we say, The fufu is never too hot for the fingers of the one who needs it.”

Lois paused, her hands still resting on the bowl of mashed plantains. “What does that mean?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“It means when you truly desire something, no challenge feels too great. You’ll find a way, no matter how hard it seems.”

The words struck a deep chord. Lois glanced at Clark, happily chatting with the drummers and felt the proverb resonate far beyond the task at hand. Could the women sense her unspoken hopes, or was it just her own heart speaking?

Later, carrying the plate of fritters to the table, she beamed with quiet pride. The warm, sweet flavor of her first bite felt like more than success - it tasted like possibility.

---

As the evening wound down, Lois found herself lingering by the table where the fritters had been such a hit. The woman who had guided her earlier approached, holding a small container.

“For you,” she said warmly, handing it over. “After all, eating by yourself leaves you hungry, but sharing makes you full.”

Lois blinked. “That’s so kind. But… it means more than just sharing food?”

The woman nodded. “Oh, yes. It means life is richer when we share it with others, our joys, our struggles, everything. What you give comes back to you in ways you might not expect.”

Lois stared at the container in her hands, her heart swelling. When she looked up at the woman, she could only utter “Thank you,” before being pulled into a warm hug.

The woman smiled. “You have a good spirit,” she said softly. “Remember, the fufu is never too hot. Whatever you truly want, you’ll find the strength to hold it.”

Lois froze for just a moment, the words sinking in as the embrace surrounded her like a quiet reassurance. Then, she hugged back, her voice low. “Thank you. For everything.”

The woman stepped back with a knowing smile, leaving Lois to wonder how much had been noticed - and how much had simply been felt.

Lois glanced at Clark, who was already helping to clean up, his easy smile lighting up the room for her. The meaning sank in deeply: her life with Clark was already full, but she couldn’t help wondering how much fuller it might become if her suspicions proved true.

---

Back at home, Lois placed the container on the counter and turned to Clark. “Okay,” she said, her voice soft. “You were right. This was… more than amazing.”

Clark slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Christmas is about connection, Lois. Whether it’s through drumming, dancing, or learning to make fritters with strangers who become friends.”

She smiled, leaning into him for a kiss. “Connection, huh? Well, if it means more moments like this, I think I could get used to it.”

Clark stirred as the alarm buzzed softly next to their bed. He tightened his arms around Lois, who instinctively nestled closer, her breathing still slow and steady in the dimness of their bedroom. He pressed a gentle kiss into her hair.

When Lois began to stir, he whispered, “Good morning, honey.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open as she shifted to look at him. Groaning, she feigned reluctance, burying her face against his chest. “It’s too early. Can’t we just stay like this?”

“Enticing,” Clark admitted, “but you know that won’t work.” He kissed her lingeringly before chuckling. “Come on, Perry won’t like it if we’re late again.” He began to disentangle himself from her embrace.

“I don’t care, as long as I can stay in bed with you,” she protested, pulling him back.

He gave in for a moment, the world fading away as they held each other. But eventually, Clark stood, leaving her with no choice but to sit up as they slowly started their day.

After breakfast, they turned to the basket with the remaining three advent bags. Clark handed her the one marked "22." Lois opened it to reveal a small globe, its surface etched with green and blue.

“The Earth?” Her eyebrows lifted in curiosity. “Are we celebrating the planet today?”

“Something like that,” Clark said, smiling. “Yesterday was the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of the year. I thought we could have a quiet evening together. I’ll cook something nice and we’ll see where the evening takes us.”

---

The evening arrived and after a long but uneventful day at the Daily Planet, Lois and Clark stepped outside into the cool night air. The city’s lights twinkled, casting a warm glow on the bustling streets, but Lois barely noticed. She gazed up at the sky, her voice soft. “Even the darkness of the night has its beauty, though you barely see any stars here in Metropolis.”

Clark turned to her, sensing a wistful sadness in her tone. “You okay?” he asked gently.

She hesitated, her breath visible in the cold air. “I was just thinking about that night, before you left for New Krypton. We stood by the window of my apartment and I asked you to show me the star where you were going. It felt so final, like I would lose you forever.” Her voice faltered and she glanced down, blinking quickly. “I guess nights like this remind me of that.”

Clark’s heart ached at her words. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gently pulled her toward a darkened alley. “Come with me,” he murmured. In an instant, he spun into Superman, wrapping her securely in his arms and they soared upward together.

“Better?” he murmured, his breath warm against the cool night air.

“Yes,” Lois breathed, leaning into him as he wrapped her in his cape. As they floated higher, Lois’ gaze softened and she laid her head against his chest enjoying their closeness, her thoughts drifting back again.

Clark’s heart tightened. “I never wanted to leave you.”

“I know,” Lois whispered. She turned her gaze to the stars. “I watched your star every night, just like I promised.”

A quiet moment passed between them as they both looked up, reflecting on the time that had passed since that painful goodbye. The weight of those words - I’ll watch it every night - still echoed in the space between them.

Clark gently pulled her closer, his voice low. “And now you don’t have to watch alone.”

Lois smiled softly, her heart full. “No. Now I never will and neither will you.”

---

After their quiet moment under the stars, Lois and Clark returned to their house, the warmth of their home a sharp contrast to the crisp winter air. Clark quickly disappeared into the kitchen, determined to prepare a special meal for the Winter Solstice, a small but meaningful celebration of the returning light.

Lois lingered in the living room, a soft smile playing on her lips as she took in their space. Inspired by the evening’s theme, she decided to set the mood. She gathered a few candles from around the house, placing them on the dining table. She also found a few evergreen sprigs she’d clipped from the yard earlier in the week and arranged them in a small centerpiece.

Satisfied with her work, she stepped back and admired the simple but cozy ambiance she’d created. Then she rifled through their music collection and chose a soft instrumental album that suited the reflective mood. As the first notes filled the room, she felt a quiet peace settle over her.

Curious about Clark’s progress, Lois wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. “Need a sous-chef?”

Clark glanced up from the stove, his expression amused. “You volunteering?”

“Maybe,” she said, stepping closer. “What can I do without ruining dinner?”

He chuckled, reaching for a bowl of dried cranberries. “How about stirring these into the salad without burning anything down?”

Lois rolled her eyes but took the bowl with a smirk. “One time, Clark. One time.”

As she stirred, they chatted about the traditions they’d learned through the Advent calendar. Lois teased him about his dedication to authenticity, while Clark marveled at how much she’d embraced the journey.

“You know,” she said, pausing to taste the salad dressing, “I never thought I’d find so much meaning in something as simple as marking the days. But this... it’s been special.”

When the dinner was ready, they sat at the table and lighting the candles one by one, their warm glow casting flickering shadows against the walls.

Clark paused for a moment, taking in the soft candlelight, the evergreen sprigs and the warmth that seemed to radiate from every detail. His gaze shifted to Lois and he smiled.

“This is perfect,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “The table looks beautiful, just like you. You really know how to make everything feel... special.”

Lois tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Even though I didn’t actually cook anything?”

Clark chuckled, shaking his head. “You brought the light into the room, Lois. That’s what tonight is about - finding warmth and hope even in the darkest moments. And you’ve always been my light.”

Lois’s teasing expression softened and she reached across the table, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

The smell of roasted root vegetables filled the air - carrots, parsnips and sweet potatoes glazed with honey and a touch of rosemary, their golden edges crisped to perfection. There was a hearty stew, rich with tender beef and winter greens, its savory aroma mingling with the earthy scent of thyme and bay leaves.

Lois smiled at the sight of the meal, the simple yet nourishing dishes reminding her of the many times they had shared meals together, comforting each other through the difficult times. “It smells amazing,” she said, her eyes meeting Clark’s.

He smiled back, his heart full. “I thought we could have something to celebrate the longest night, the return of the light,” he said, his voice soft. “Something to remind us that no matter how dark it gets, the light always comes back.”

They ate together, the silence between them comfortable, their hearts lighter with each bite. The meal was simple, yet perfect for the night, reflecting the quiet joy they found in one another’s company.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, where Clark had set up a small fire in the fireplace. They sat together, wrapped in blankets and watched the flames flicker as they shared stories of their hopes for the future, the dreams they both carried - of family, of love and of the new beginnings that awaited them.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” she said, leaning back.

“I just thought we could celebrate the return of the sun with something cozy, only for the two of us,” Clark replied, his eyes twinkling.

---

After dinner, Lois curled up on the couch, tucking a blanket over her legs as Clark joined her. He handed her a mug of steaming, spiced hot chocolate, its warm aroma wrapping around them like a comforting embrace.

She took a sip and smiled, savoring the rich flavors. “I have to admit, this feels pretty magical.”

Clark settled beside her, his arm draping over the back of the couch. “It’s been a year of changes,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady.

Lois nodded, her tone softening. “I keep thinking about everything we’ve been through - the hardest days... and how we made it through. Together.”

Clark reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “We’ve faced some dark times, but you’ve always been my light,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere. “And now, with the solstice, we can look ahead to brighter days. The return of the sun and all the hope that comes with it.”

As Lois took another sip of her drink, a faint wave of queasiness crept in - so slight she almost dismissed it. She set the mug down carefully, her brow furrowing. “I think I’ve had enough of this for now,” she said, glancing at Clark.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing grin. “Lois Lane turning down chocolate? Stop the presses.” Then, his expression softened with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t catch that cold Ralph’s been complaining about, did you?”

Lois gave a small laugh, brushing off his worry. “Doubtful. I avoid Ralph like the plague - literally.”

The uneasy feeling faded, leaving her grounded again, but a quiet thought lingered. She wasn’t ready to share what she suspected. Not yet. She needed to be sure before she spoke the words aloud.

“I’m ready for those longer days,” she said, shifting the conversation. Her gaze drifted to the flickering firelight. “I love waking up in your arms, sunlight spilling across the bed, bathing us in a soft light. It feels like the world pauses just for us.”

Clark’s expression softened as he leaned closer, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he said gently, “but as long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.”

The silence that followed was warm and unspoken, stretching like the promise of brighter days ahead. Lois leaned into Clark, resting her head on his shoulder, her thoughts quieting as the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room.

The night seemed endless, yet brimming with possibility. Lois’s thoughts wandered to all the ways Clark had made this Christmas special, every detail wrapped in his love and care. Whatever the future brought, she knew one thing with certainty: they’d face it together.

And that was enough.

Lois paused just inside the doorway, her coat slipping from her fingers. She stood frozen, her eyes locking on Clark, crouched by the fire. The golden light caught in his dark hair, softening the exhaustion etched into his features. His broad shoulders, usually so steady, seemed weighed down tonight.

An ache rose in her chest, sharp and sudden. He was her husband, her partner, her safe place in the chaos of the world. And yet tonight, he felt more fragile - more human - than ever.

She stepped closer, needing to feel his presence. When she stopped beside him, her hand hovered over his shoulder before she finally broke the silence.

“You’ve been busy today,” she said quietly, her voice flat, betraying none of her usual spark.

Clark turned to her, offering a small, weary smile. “So have you. Did Perry like the story?”

“He loved it. Front page for tomorrow’s edition.” Her tone was hollow, devoid of the pride that usually accompanied such news. She moved past him and sank onto the couch with a sigh, pressing her fingers to her temples. “But it wasn’t exactly easy, writing both halves of Lane and Kent today.”

Clark exhaled quietly, his expression tightening. Rising to his feet, he joined her on the couch, lowering himself slowly as if every movement required effort. “I’m sorry. Long day, huh?” His words were gentle, but there was an edge of weariness he couldn’t quite hide.

Lois laughed bitterly, shaking her head as her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her eyes shimmered, betraying the storm of emotions churning inside her. “You could say that. It’s not every day I cover the aftermath of a collapsing bridge while trying not to panic because my husband is still holding part of it up - knowing someone planted Kryptonite there to hurt him.”

Her voice cracked, and she dropped her gaze. “It wasn’t an accident. That piece of Kryptonite was planted. They knew you’d come. And you still went.”

Clark’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. The ache in his muscles and the lingering nausea from the Kryptonite were reminders of how close he’d come to the edge.

Clark’s jaw clenched and for a moment, he didn’t speak - she was right.

The ache in his muscles and the lingering nausea from the Kryptonite were reminders of how close he’d come today.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice low. He ran a hand through his hair, his movements slow and deliberate. “The second I saw it, I knew it was a trap. But I couldn’t just... I couldn’t let those people die.”

“I know…” Lois’s face crumpled at his quiet admission and her hands curled into fists. “Clark, you were already struggling. And when the Kryptonite rolled closer...” Her voice broke and she looked at him, her eyes blazing with emotion. “You were bleeding. Superman doesn’t bleed.”

She swallowed hard, as she tried to steady her trembling voice. “I know you have to do it. I know you can’t stand by and let people suffer. And I don’t want you to stop - not ever.” Her hands unclenched. “But when I see you like that, when I see you hurting…” She broke off, shaking her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It feels like the world is shattering under my feet, and there’s nothing I can do to hold it together.”

Clark reached for her hand, but she pulled back.

Her voice rose, raw and trembling. “Do you have any idea what it felt like? Watching you fall to your knees, knowing I couldn’t do anything?” Her shoulders shook as her tears began to fall. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

She pressed a hand against her stomach instinctively, her lips parting as if the words were about to spill out. But she stopped herself, biting down hard on the wave of emotion surging within her. It wasn’t the right moment - not yet. Instead, she took a shaky breath. “You mean everything to me. And I don’t know how to keep going if you’re not here.”

Clark leaned forward, his hand hovering near hers until she let him take it. His grip was firm but gentle, his touch grounding her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I hate putting you through this. I hate that I made you feel that way.” He paused, his voice faltering. “Lois, but I swear to you, I’ll always do everything I can, to come back to you.”

Her breath hitched and she shook her head, her tears spilling freely now.

He cupped her cheek, gently brushing away her tears with his thumb. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m home.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as her tears slowed. After a moment, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her like a protective shield. She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry! It’s just...” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “Sometimes it feels like home is only home because you’re here.”

Clark’s arms tightened around her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her words. “It’s the same for me,” he admitted. “You’re my home, Lois. No matter what, I’ll never willingly leave you.”

The room fell silent except for the steady crackle of the fire. For a long moment, they simply held each other, letting the warmth of their embrace soothe the raw edges of the day.

Finally, Lois exhaled, her breath shuddering as she whispered, “Yeah... home.” Though the word still carried a fragile weight, it was enough.

On the table beside the couch she noticed the advent calendar bag, untouched. “We didn’t get to open it this morning.”

Clark followed her gaze, a faint smile touching his lips as he gently reached for the bag. He placed it in her lap and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Let’s fix that,” he said softly.

Lois untied the string with trembling fingers, pulling out a small globe similar to the one yesterday’s bag held, though it held a reddish hue. Her breath hitched as her thumb traced the designs, the patterns unfamiliar yet oddly captivating.

“Is this…?”

Clark reached for something nearby, retrieving a larger globe - the one she had seen years ago in a photograph. It was almost forgotten, a fleeting memory from before she knew the truth about him. “A replica of this one,” he said softly, holding it out for her to see. “I made it for you.”

Her eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper. “The globe…” She turned to Clark, her expression a mix of wonder, disbelief, and something deeper - something profoundly touched.

“You’re sharing this with me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Clark, this is…” She stopped, unable to finish as emotion welled up, threatening to spill over.

“You’re a part of who I am, Lois - and I want to share everything with you.”

He turned the larger globe over in his hands, his expression contemplative. “This was with me when I came to Earth but got lost. When I discovered the kryptonian artifacts in Trask’s warehouse, I could only grab the globe and hide it - as soon as I touched it - I somehow knew the name krypton. But I thought it was just a relic, not much more than a fancy paperweight - months later, it’s glow woke me in the night, when I touched it… it showed me messages from my father, Jor-El.”

Lois blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed his words. “Messages? Like… recordings?”

Clark nodded. “Holograms, actually. My father speaking to me, telling me where I came from, why I was sent here.” His voice grew quieter, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and lingering unease. “It told me who I was, where I came from. For the first time, I understood that I wasn’t just some science experiment or an abandoned child. I was loved.” He swallowed hard, “I wasn’t left alone.”

Her breath caught and she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. “Clark…” she whispered, her voice soft but full of emotion. “I can’t imagine how that must have felt, to find out after all those years.” Lois placed her hand over his, her touch gentle but firm. Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she whispered, “Clark, you weren’t left alone. You’re not alone now. You’ve got me.”

Clark smiled, the warmth in his eyes melting away the shadows of his memories. “I know,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of gratitude.

His voice wavered as he continued. “When it was stolen, I panicked. I knew someone else had it - Lex, most likely. I could see the messages, but I also knew they could too. It became my greatest fear: that it might reveal something that could hurt my parents or expose me. My biggest treasure turned into my greatest weakness.”

Lois’s brows furrowed. “That must have been horrible!”

Clark hesitated, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I couldn’t risk anyone else getting it again. So I hid it. I wanted to show it to you so many times, but life got in the way. And then, honestly, I forgot about it until recently. This advent calendar felt like the right time to bring it back.”

“Forgot about it?” Lois echoed, her tone disbelieving but softened by the awe in her voice.

Clark gave her a sheepish smile. “It went quiet again for a long time, and I didn’t think there was anything left to learn from it. Life got busy.”

He pressed his palm against the globe and it floated into the air, glowing softly. Lois gasped as an image appeared - a tall man with strong features and an air of quiet dignity.

It played the five messages, telling them about the end of Krypton and Clark’s journey to earth.

After that, instead of returning to its dormant state it played another message.

“My son,” Jor-El’s voice went on, resonant and calm. “You have seen these messages before and I hope they have guided you well. But there is more of Krypton I wish to share with you, so that you may carry our legacy forward. Devices like the one you’re holding were used commonly on krypton, to function as a library. Even though your mother and I can’t remain in this realm, know that a part of us will always be at your side, this globe shall give you the wisdom of our people.”

Lois leaned forward, watching as the holographic image shifted, showing a city of crystalline towers beneath a red sun.

“There was a time in Krypton’s history when darkness threatened to divide us - fear, famine and war,” Jor-El continued. “But out of that chaos came the Festival of Light - Tor'Quinta'Rao, a tradition to remind us of the unity and hope that binds us. On the solstice, we would gather as families to light a single flame, passing it from one to another until our homes were filled with light.”

The image flickered, showing families holding glowing, crystalline lanterns. “Even in the darkest times, the light endured, a symbol of our shared strength.”

Lois’ hand tightened on Clark’s as the message concluded. The globe returned to his hands, its glow fading.

Clark turned to her, his voice thoughtful. “My parents never had the chance to teach me their traditions, but maybe we can make our own festival of light with our friends and neighbors next year - even though most of them will never know its origin.”

Lois smiled, her fingers brushing his. “I’d like that.”

Clark’s expression softened as he laid his hand with the globe on her lap, letting her see it up close. She placed her hand over his, their fingers naturally intertwining, a comforting gesture that felt as instinctive as breathing.

As their hands settled on the globe, a faint vibration stirred beneath their palms - a subtle, rhythmic thrum, like a heartbeat awakening from a long silence. Lois’s breath hitched, her gaze flicking to Clark, but his wide-eyed wonder mirrored her own.

The globe pulsed with energy, a soft hum filling the air as it sprang to life. A warm, golden light poured from its surface, spilling over their hands and bathing the room in an ethereal glow. The globe hummed with a gentle glow, as though responding to their shared touch.

Clark tilted his head, his brows furrowing in quiet amazement. “It’s... never done that before,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent.

Lois swallowed hard, her free hand instinctively brushing against her stomach. “What does it mean?” she whispered, though deep down, a part of her already felt the answer.

The light seemed to focus, its glow intensifying briefly as if in recognition, before softening again. It was as though the globe had attuned itself to something new - a connection that went beyond Clark alone.

“I don’t know,” Clark admitted, his voice almost a whisper, his gaze locked on the globe as it continued to pulse. “But whatever it is… it’s reacting to us. To both of us.”

Lois’s heart skipped, her fingers tightening slightly over his. She felt a warmth that went beyond the globe’s glow - a subtle but undeniable presence that seemed to echo within her.

The globe’s light began to fade, dimming until it returned to its dormant state, but the energy in the room lingered, leaving them both in awed silence.

Clark looked down at her, his expression tender yet searching, as though trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t yet have all the pieces for. “Lois... whatever just happened, it’s something new. Something… amazing.”

Her lips curved in a small, wavering smile. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “It really is.”

The golden light of the globe lingered, warm and steady, as though it had embraced not just their touch but the essence of their bond. Clark’s hand rested beneath Lois’s, their fingers still intertwined as the globe pulsed softly. He tilted his head, his expression a mixture of wonder and quiet reverence.

Lois blinked, her gaze shifting between the globe and Clark’s face. The gentle vibration beneath their hands seemed to resonate not just with the globe but with something deep inside her. The thought made her heart race, though she kept her composure.

Before either could speak further, the globe brightened again, its light shifting from gold to a soft, silvery hue. A familiar voice, calm and resonant, filled the room.

“My son, this message is for you and the one you have chosen to share your life with.”

Lois’s breath caught as the light expanded, the walls of their living room dissolving into a field of stars. It was as if the universe itself had opened before them, infinite and breathtaking. Clark’s arm instinctively tightened around her waist covering her stomach in a gentle supportive gesture, grounding her as the celestial vision swirled around them.

Jor-El’s voice continued, steady and filled with quiet conviction. “Know that Krypton, its dreams and hopes, live on, not just in you, but in those who will come after you. May Rao’s light guide you toward a future of love and unity.”

The stars shifted, forming a vivid image of Krypton. Gleaming cities stretched toward twin moons, their light reflected in rivers of crystal. The people of Krypton moved with purpose and joy, their faces alive with hope. Lois felt her chest tighten at the beauty of the scene, its vibrant life a stark contrast to the fate Clark had told her about so long ago.

Jor-El’s voice grew steadier, filled with quiet resolve. “Kal-El, you were born to a world of great knowledge and power, but also of great mistakes. Your mother and I sent you to Earth not to bind you to our past but to give you a choice, to forge your own path, unburdened by our failures. When I recorded the message for you and your birthwife, Krypton stood on the brink of collapse. Pressured by tradition, I signed the bond of your birth marriage, hoping it might preserve unity in the chaos. Yet in my heart, I always wished for you to choose your own way. Now that you have triggered this message, I see that Earth has given you that freedom - the freedom to shape your destiny, guided by love, not obligation.”

The vision of Krypton dissolved, replaced by Earth as seen from space. Its blue and green surface glowed softly, a beacon of life and hope. Lois’s fingers tightened around Clark’s hand as Jor-El’s voice continued, softer now but no less powerful.

“Your life, my son, is your own. The bond of your birth marriage, though sacred to our people, has no claim upon you now. Krypton’s traditions were meant to guide, not to shackle. You are free to choose love, as your heart leads you.”

Lois felt her throat tighten as Jor-El’s words lingered. Her gaze flicked to Clark, whose expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the globe.

Jor-El’s voice softened further, imbued with a quiet, hopeful strength. “To you and the one who stands by your side, I offer this blessing: may your union be strong, your hearts steadfast, and your love endless. May you build a family rooted in the values of compassion, courage, and hope. Together, you carry the legacy of Krypton - not as a burden, but as a promise. It lives in you - and in those who will follow.”

Lois’s breath hitched again, the phrase echoing in her thoughts. Her hand instinctively tightened over Clark’s, her heart racing. For a moment, the globe’s light seemed to radiate outward, embracing them both in a warmth that felt as tangible as it was ethereal.

Jor-El’s final words resonated softly in the air. “May Rao’s light guide you toward a future filled with love, unity, and new beginnings.”

As the glow dimmed and the globe fell silent, the room returned to its familiar warmth. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its light mingling with the faint remnants of the globe’s luminescence.

Lois turned to Clark, her eyes wide and shining with emotion. “He sent you here to have a choice,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And you chose me.”

Clark’s gaze softened, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Always.”

Lois blinked, her mind racing. The words “those who will follow” echoed again, and she swallowed hard, her secret pressing against the edges of her resolve. She wasn’t ready to share it - not yet.

“It’s… beautiful,” she said finally, her voice soft but steady.

Clark shook his head, his expression tinged with both wonder and sadness. “He couldn’t have known - but we’ve done everything we can to confirm it, Lois. Dr. Klein, your dad - they both said it wasn’t possible. We have to accept that.”

Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “Mhh, maybe,” she murmured, her fingers brushing his hand. “But sometimes, even impossible things have a way of surprising us. And whatever happens, we’ll face it together. That’s what matters.”

Clark’s eyes searched hers, his expression tender as he wrapped an arm around her. “I know,” he said quietly, resting his chin against her hair. “But maybe Jor-El wasn’t just talking about children. Maybe he meant something more - legacy, love, hope. All the things we build together, the lives we touch.”

Lois closed her eyes, leaning into him as the weight of her secret remained nestled safely in her heart. “Maybe,” she murmured, her voice soft, her fingers tracing small circles on his hand as if committing this moment to memory.

They sat in comfortable silence, the glow of the fire casting long shadows across the room. The globe rested quietly in Clark’s hand, its mysteries now shared between them.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Lois whispered, her voice filled with quiet gratitude.

Clark kissed the top of her head, his voice tender. “Thank you for being my light, Lois.”

Lois stirred in the soft cocoon of their bed, her head nestled against Clark. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. She let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer as Clark’s arm instinctively tightened around her.

They lay there, wrapped in each other, the world outside momentarily forgotten. Lois listened to his breathing steady and reassuring. Her thoughts lingered on the night before, on Jor-El’s words and the quiet hope they stirred within her.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice warm and gentle, still thick with sleep.

She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, a happy smile curving her lips. “Morning,” she whispered.

For a while, neither of them moved, savoring the stillness of the morning. Clark’s hand drifted down absently, settling over her stomach, tracing idle patterns. His touch was light, almost protective, as if he were responding to something unspoken.

Lois froze for the briefest moment, her heart skipping a beat, but Clark didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled at her, his eyes soft with affection.

Eventually, Lois stretched and yawned, her stomach letting out a loud growl that broke the peaceful silence. She winced, then laughed as Clark raised an amused eyebrow.

“Guess I can’t deny that,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing.

“Sounds like breakfast is calling,” Clark teased, his hand lingering just a second longer before he pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Lois stretched again, reluctantly pulling herself out of their warm embrace. “We should get moving,” she said, brushing a hand through her tousled hair. “There’s too much to do. Perry’s going to…”

Clark interrupted her with a soft chuckle, sitting up and catching her hand before she could fully leave the bed. “Lois, slow down.”

She turned to him, one eyebrow arched, her expression a mix of disbelief and faint amusement. “Slow down? Do you even know me?”

Clark chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a knowing smile. “Oh, I know you,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “And I also know that even [b]you[b/] deserve a break once in a while. That’s why I called Perry last night and told him we needed a day off.”

Her jaw dropped. “You what?”

“I asked for the day off,” he repeated, his voice calm and steady. “You’ve been running yourself ragged and after everything yesterday, I figured we could both use some time to recharge.”

“Recharge?” she echoed, her tone incredulous. “Clark, we’re in the middle of—”

“It’s one additional day, Lois, tomorrow is Christmas.” he said gently, cutting her off. “Perry didn’t even argue. He said we’ve more than earned it. He also said something about you needing to stop and breathe once in a while.”

She blinked, processing his words. “Perry said that?”

Clark nodded, his smile widening. “You’ve been carrying so much lately, Lois. Let it go for one day. The world will still be there tomorrow.”

Her instincts told her to argue, to insist that taking a day off was irresponsible. But the warmth in Clark’s gaze, the quiet strength in his voice, and the way he seemed so determined to take care of her, made her pause.

“Okay,” she murmured finally, her tone soft. Then, with a spark of playful defiance, she added, “But only because you asked nicely—and because I’m pretty sure Perry would have my head if I didn’t.”

Clark laughed, reaching to brush a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ll take it. Though I’m holding you to that ‘only because I asked nicely’ part.”

He laughed, stepping out of bed and wrapping his arms around her. “Everyone at the Planet knows you’d work straight through a blizzard if you could.”

“For the record, I have - although only with your help…” she quipped, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Clark pressed a kiss to her temple, his grin widening. “And that’s why you deserve this day off.”

They grabbed their robes, slipping them on and as they headed downstairs, the scent of pine and cinnamon greeted them, mingling with the golden morning light streaming through the windows. Near the doorway to the kitchen, a sprig of mistletoe hung overhead, its green leaves and white berries catching Lois’s eye.

She stopped, tilting her head toward it, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Seriously, Clark? Mistletoe?”

Clark turned back to her, his expression feigning innocence. “It’s tradition.”

Lois arched an eyebrow but didn’t move. “I’m pretty sure the tradition involves someone catching you under it.”

“Then I guess I better not waste the opportunity,” Clark said, his grin turning mischievous.

Before she could react, he scooped her off her feet in one smooth motion, his arms cradling her with effortless ease. “Clark!” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-protesting as he spun her around once, the room blurring around them.

“Caught you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, before lowering her just enough so their faces were inches apart. The sparkle in his eyes left her breathless, her witty retort forgotten as his lips found hers.

The kiss was soft at first, lingering and sweet, but deepened just enough to make her heart flutter. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the familiar, heady rush of being with him.

When they finally parted, Lois looked up at him with a smirk, her arms still loosely around his neck. “Fine, you win this round, farmboy. But if I find mistletoe in the Planet’s newsroom, we’re having words. Especially if Ralph is anywhere near it.”

Clark chuckled as he set her back on her feet, his hands lingering at her waist. “Fair point. I’ll make sure not to hang any in the newsroom - I wouldn’t want him to catch you under it.”

Lois laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she reached for his hand. “There’s zero chance of that happening and him living to tell the tale.” She paused, her smirk deepening. “The only question is, who’d be faster taking him out - you or me?”

Clark grinned as they walked toward the kitchen. He gave her hand a playful squeeze. “Oh, you, definitely. I’d barely get there in time to stop you - even with superspeed.”

In the kitchen, Clark moved easily, preparing a quick breakfast - scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and coffee. Lois set the table, her movements deliberate as she placed the dishes with care.

"You're really pulling out all the stops this morning," Lois teased, glancing over her shoulder with a raised brow.

Clark grinned, flipping the eggs with practiced ease. "Well, if we’re taking a rare day off, I figure it’s my job to make sure it starts right. Especially since I know how grumpy you get without your coffee."

“Hey!” Lois protested, feigning offense as she swatted his shoulder.

He laughed softly, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Am I wrong?”

She decided not to grace his remark with an answer and leaned against the counter, watching him with a softened gaze. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this - seeing you like this. Just… making breakfast, doing the little things.”

Clark set the eggs on a plate and turned to her, his smile gentler now. “I like these little things. They keep me grounded. Sometimes it’s easy to lose perspective when Superman’s always flying off to save the day.”

Lois poured their coffee, her smirk returning as she handed him a mug. “Well, you certainly don’t lose focus in the kitchen. I’ve definitely gotten used to this kind of service.”

Clark carried the plates to the table, his eyes gleaming with teasing warmth. “Oh, so you’re admitting it - you’re spoiled.”

Lois laughed as she sat down, shaking her head. “Maybe just a little.”

As Clark set the last plate down, he leaned against the table and grinned. “You know, I think you’re getting soft on me.”

Lois arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Soft? Me? Let me remind you - I didn’t work my buns off to babysit some hack from Nowheresville.”

He chuckled, remembering the fiery words from when they first met. “I know, I know. I don’t work with you; I work for you.”

“Exactly,” she said, grinning as she stepped closer. “I call the shots. I ask the questions.” Her tone turned playful as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“And we both know you like to be on top,” Clark murmured, his voice dropping slightly as his arms circled her waist.

Lois gave him a wicked grin. “Don’t push me, Kent. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Clark chuckled, letting her go just enough to pull out a chair for her. “Guess I’ll just have to keep proving myself, huh?”

Lois shook her head, rolling her eyes but taking the offered seat. “Keep trying, farmboy. Maybe one day I’ll let you call the shots—don’t hold your breath, though.”

He sat across from her, his expression soft as he reached for her hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But for today, I like the idea of a quiet morning with my favorite person.”

Lois rolled her eyes again, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her. “Careful, Smallville. You keep saying things like that, and I might start thinking you actually enjoy spending time with me.”

Clark’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he passed her the fruit bowl. “Guilty as charged.”

After breakfast, they worked together to clear the table. Clark rinsed the dishes while Lois wiped down the counters, a comfortable rhythm flowing between them.

“You’re not bad at this,” Lois remarked, tossing him a dishtowel as he finished drying the last plate.

Clark smirked, catching it effortlessly. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

Lois rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Don’t get too cocky, farmboy. It’s just dishes.”

They finished up quickly, and Clark gave her hand a gentle tug. “Come on, let’s go get ready for the day.”

Upstairs, the bathroom filled with the soothing sound of running water as Clark adjusted the shower temperature. Steam curled around them as Lois stepped under the warm spray, letting it cascade over her shoulders.

“This is nice,” she murmured, tilting her face up to let the water wash away the last remnants of sleep.

Clark joined her, his movements easy and familiar as he reached for the shampoo. “Let me help.”

Lois laughed softly as his fingers worked through her hair, the pressure just right. “You’re too good at this. Should I be worried you’ve had practice?”

Clark met her gaze with a mock-serious expression. “Only on myself. Do you know how tricky it is to manage super-powered hair?”

She smirked, leaning into his touch. “Well, I have to admit, you’ve got the technique down.”

He chuckled, rinsing her hair before soaping his hands and gently massaging her shoulders. “And you’re not bad at relaxing, city-girl.”

“Careful, Kent,” she teased, her voice low and playful. “I might start expecting this level of service every morning.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he replied, his tone warm and sincere.

They lingered a little longer, sharing quiet laughter and whispered words, until the water began to cool. Lois grabbed a towel from the rack, tossing one to Clark before wrapping herself up snugly.

As they stepped out, she glanced at him with a grin. “You’re setting the bar high, farmboy.”

He winked, draping the towel over his shoulders. “Just wait until I make lunch.”

Lois shook her head, laughing softly as they moved toward their closet to pick out the day’s outfits.

Upstairs, they dressed quickly, the lightheartedness from their shared shower lingering between them. Clark, in his usual thoughtful way, helped Lois with the clasp of her necklace, his fingers brushing against her skin. She gave him a soft smile, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before they headed back downstairs.

As they reached the living room, Lois paused, her gaze catching on the mantle. The twigs they had gathered weeks ago on St. Barbara’s Day were no longer bare. Stepping closer, she saw delicate white blossoms adorning the branches, glowing softly in the early morning light.

She stopped in front of them, her fingers brushing gently across the petals, almost as if she were afraid they might disappear. “They bloomed,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe.

Clark joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his gaze warm as he looked at the blossoms. “They’re beautiful, Lois.”

She leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, and for a moment, she considered telling him right then and there. The words hovered on the tip of her tongue, her heart aching with the weight of her secret. She knew how much this would mean to him - how it was his heart’s wish.

But tomorrow, she reminded herself. Tomorrow would be perfect.

Still, the thought of holding it in for another day made her chest feel tight. Turning in his arms, she looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. “It feels… symbolic. Like a promise.”

Clark nodded, his voice gentle as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “A promise of hope and renewal. Perfect for today.”

Lois smiled, resting her hand lightly against his chest. She knew he could feel everything - her heartbeat, her warmth - but not the tiny, miraculous life growing inside her. Not yet. But soon.

Her fingers lingered over the blossoms again as she leaned into his embrace, savoring the moment, and the promise of the one to come.

---

After their quiet morning, Lois and Clark transitioned into preparing for the following evening. The house hummed with warmth and activity, filled with the scent of baking and the soft hum of Christmas tunes.

Clark took charge of the heavier preparations - carrying chairs from the basement, rearranging the dining room for the extra guests, and helping Lois with decorations.

Lois, meanwhile, focused on the smaller, more personal touches: folding napkins into festive shapes, arranging candles, and placing name cards on the table. As she worked, she paused occasionally, her hand brushing across her stomach, a small, private smile crossing her lips.

Clark noticed her pause and tilted his head. “You okay?”

“Hmm?” Lois startled slightly, quickly recovering. “Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about how much everyone’s going to love this.”

He smiled, brushing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ve thought of everything.”

Lois swallowed her urge to tell him, her heart fluttering. “Not quite everything, but tomorrow will be perfect.”

One of the final tasks was assembling a centerpiece for the dining table. Lois had come up with the idea of a small decorative jar filled with handwritten notes for their guests - “Christmas wishes,” she called them.

She sat at the table, carefully writing each note on small slips of paper while Clark worked in the kitchen, preparing for tomorrow’s dinner. The quiet moment gave her a chance to finalize another part of her plan - her special gift for Clark.

She began drafting a letter for him, pouring her heart into the words. But each time she finished, she hesitated, crumpling the paper and starting over. None of the drafts felt quite right for the occasion. Finally, after much deliberation, she wrote the perfect version, folded it neatly, and slipped it into her pocket.

Hearing Clark’s footsteps approaching, Lois quickly gathered the discarded scraps of paper and walked over to the fireplace, tossing them into the flames just as he entered.

“Are you cold?” Clark asked, noting her by the fire. “I can throw another log on if you want.”

Lois shook her head with a quick smile. “No, I’m fine. Just getting rid of a few little… mishaps while writing.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, moving to join her at the table. Together, they began folding the small notes for the jar.

“You’re sure this isn’t too much?” Clark teased, glancing at the growing pile of folded papers.

Lois smirked, her tone playful. “It’s Christmas, farmboy. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Clark chuckled, reaching for another slip to fold.

When they finished, Clark tied a festive ribbon around the jar and placed it in the center of the table. He turned back to Lois, pulling her gently into his arms. “Looks perfect,” he said softly.

Lois leaned into him, her fingers resting lightly on his chest. The warmth of the fire and Clark’s embrace filled her with a quiet joy. “It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas,” she whispered, her smile tinged with a secret she could barely contain.

---

When they finished with their preparations, they settled on the couch, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree casting a soft glow across the living room.

Her eyes fell on the advent calendar sitting nearby, and she noticed the final bag waiting for her. She picked it up carefully, untying the ribbon and pulling out its contents—a small, handcrafted ornament shaped like a dove, its wings outstretched in flight.

Lois held it up, studying the intricate detail. “A dove,” she said softly. “The symbol of peace.”

Clark stepped closer, his voice warm. “And a reminder of hope. The kind we carry with us, even when things seem uncertain.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her gently into his embrace. “The first Christmas wasn’t about grandeur - it was about love, humility, and the simple act of being there for others.”

She leaned against him, her voice soft. “Thank you, Clark, for the best Christmas season I’ve ever had.”

Together, they hung the dove ornament on the tree, its soft shimmer catching the glow of the lights. They stood quietly for a moment, the warmth of the room and the delicate blossoms of the St. Barbara’s twigs filling the air with a sense of renewal - a promise they carried into the night.

As the tree lights twinkled, Lois glanced up at Clark, her heart full of unspoken words. She brushed her fingers lightly over her stomach, where a new kind of hope was quietly growing. Tomorrow, she would tell him. For now, she stayed in the moment, letting herself rest in the love they shared.

Outside, snow began to fall, blanketing the world in quiet stillness. Inside, the little dove gleamed softly on the tree, a symbol of everything they were building together, peace, hope, and the kind of love that could light up even the darkest of nights.

You peeked again? Aww, did you really think I’d spoil the surprise? Nope, you’ll have to wait, like everyone else. Better go and read something else 😉