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

Lois shuffled into the living room. She’d fallen asleep, waiting for Clark to come home. But when she woke up his side was empty and cold.

It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up alone and she usually didn’t mind. But today, she felt an ache she couldn’t shake, a wish that he’d been there when she opened her eyes.

She pulled her robe tighter against the lingering chill. Clark loved Christmas, the lights, the music, the traditions. Lois struggled to feel the same - not for herself but out of fear she would ruin it for Clark some day.

Her parents’ fights over Christmas dinner, the deafening silence after their divorce and later, the endless parade of commercials promising a happiness that never seemed to come - it was hard to believe in any of it. Even now, she wasn’t sure if the ache she felt came from the past or from missing Clark beside her.

Maybe both.

Rubbing her arms for warmth, she headed toward the kitchen. The faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, a reminder of Saturday evening, when Clark had insisted they start decorating. She’d humored him, but the cheer he was so determined to create had barely scratched the surface.

She stopped short when her eyes landed on the small table by the window. Something hadn’t been there yesterday: a basket filled with numbered bags, each intricately painted with festive scenes.

Clark emerged from the kitchen, with two cups of coffee, pausing as his eyes settled on her. His expression softened, the brightness in his greeting tempered by quiet concern. “Good morning! Sleep okay?”

“Morning.“ Lois raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the table. “What’s this?”

Clark crossed the room, his excitement evident. “It’s an Advent calendar. I thought we could start a little tradition this year.”

Lois sighed, sinking onto the couch. “Clark, you know I’m not exactly Mrs. Christmas Spirit. Why bother?”

He stepped closer, his voice soft and steady. “I know how Christmas hasn’t always been kind to you. And I get it. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

She glanced at the basket, curiosity fighting with her lingering frustration. “And what’s in these?”

Clark smiled and handed her the basket. “Look for number one and open it.”

She rifled through the bags, quickly finding the first one. Pulling it open, she retrieved a small green ornament shaped like a cucumber. She held it up, her brow furrowed. “A cucumber? Seriously? Who puts a cucumber on their Christmas tree?”

Clark chuckled, holding her gaze as if hoping to spark a flicker of amusement. “The Germans, apparently. Well, sort of - this might be more of an American-German thing. It’s called the Weihnachtsgurke . It’s hidden in the tree and whoever finds it first gets to open the first present.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “With just the two of us, that’s not much of a contest. And let’s be honest, Clark, you’d win without even trying.”

“I’ll play fair, I promise,” Clark said, grinning. “Besides, it’ll be more fun when our parents join us.”

Lois rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine.”

Clark’s expression softened. “Advent calendars mark the days leading up to Christmas. It is a way to build anticipation. Each door - or in this case, each bag - has a little surprise.”

Lois sighed. “And today’s surprise is a cucumber.”

Clark laughed. “Today’s about starting small. I thought we could bake together after work.”

Lois groaned. “You know I’m a kitchen disaster, right? Remember that time I tried to make brownies and almost burned down my apartment?”

Clark leaned in, his eyes soft with affection. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll do it together. And if necessary, I’ll fly to Germany and buy some for you.”

That drew a reluctant laugh from her. “Fine, but if this goes south, you’re cleaning up the mess.”

---

After work they immediately started their task and later, the kitchen smelled like a christmas market. Plates of Lebkuchen, Zimtsterne and Vanillekipferl were spread across the counter, filling the air with the warm, spicy scent of holiday cheer.

Lois stood by the stove, eyeing the last batch of cookies, reaching for a Vanillekipferl. As she took a cautious bite Clark glanced up. “Careful, those are still warm.”

Lois smirked as she waved the half-eaten cookie in his direction. “You think I can’t handle a little heat, Kent?”

Clark chuckled, moving to her side. “Fair enough. So, how do they taste?”

She took another bite, savoring the delicate almond flavor and buttery texture. “Not bad for someone who doesn’t usually bake. I’d even say… edible.”

His eyes sparkling with amusement. “Think we made enough?”

Lois glanced at the mountain of cookies and raised an eyebrow. “Considering we’re not feeding the entire Daily Planet, I’d say we’re set.”

Clark laughed, leaning against the counter beside her. “But you’ll share with me?”

Lois’s smirk softened into a smile as she looked at the spread. “That depends,” she teased, “are you on Santa’s ‘nice’ list?”

He shrugged, his expression warm. “You’re the one to ask. I saw you eyeing the basket earlier - Santa won’t approve if you peek ahead.”

Later, as they curled up on the couch under a blanket, Lois found herself relaxing against Clark. The scent of cookies lingered in the air and the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights cast warm patterns on the walls.

Clark kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for indulging me today.”

Lois tilted her head to look at him, her smirk fading into a warm smile. “I guess I could get used to this… but don’t push your luck, farm-boy.”

His eyes twinkled as he kissed her forehead. “One day at a time.”

Lois found herself humming a Christmas tune and deep inside, she felt a flicker of the joy Clark had been trying to share.

The next morning, Lois awoke to find Clark still lying beside her. Warmth spread through her chest as she watched him, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early light. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly across his cheek. His eyes fluttered open and a soft, amused smile tugged at his lips.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice rich and warm. He pulled her close, wrapping her in the kind of embrace that made her feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

Lois smiled against his chest, her thoughts drifting back to the previous evening. Clark’s advent idea had been just what she needed. Baking cookies together had turned into a surprisingly fun activity, with flour dusting Clark’s hair like snow and her laughter echoing through the kitchen. It had been messy and imperfect, but it had felt real, full of the kind of joy she didn’t often associate with Christmas.

This morning, though, she was grateful for the simple gift of waking up with him still by her side.

Later - after lingering far longer than they should have in the warmth of each other’s arms - they scrambled to get ready for work. As Lois walked into the living room, she paused by the basket with the numbered bags. Clark was already in the kitchen, the sounds of breakfast preparations drifting through the air.

She quickly located today’s bag, untying the ribbon with a hint of anticipation. Shaking the bag gently, she jumped and let out a little shriek when a small glass ornament, shaped like a spider fell into her hand. She held it up, one eyebrow arching in disbelief.

“A spider?”

Clark stepped into the room, carrying two cups of coffee and grinning as he saw the ornament in her hand. “I see you already opened today’s bag. And yes, a spider. There’s a story behind it.”

Lois eyed the spider skeptically but allowed herself to be intrigued. “You’ve got my attention. What’s the deal with the creepy-crawly?”

Clark set the cups down and opened a nearby box, revealing shimmering silver and gold spider web decorations. “This tradition comes from Ukraine. According to legend, a poor widow and her children couldn’t afford to decorate their Christmas tree. On Christmas Eve, spiders spun intricate webs all over the branches. When the family woke up, sunlight streaming through the window turned the webs into gold and silver, making the tree beautiful and filling them with joy.”

Lois tilted her head, her initial skepticism softening. “That’s… actually kind of sweet.” She studied the spider ornament in her hand, its delicate details catching the light.

“I thought we’d make today a little extra special. First, I made some kutia, a traditional Ukrainian dish. It’s made with wheat, honey, berries, poppy seeds and nuts. It symbolizes unity and abundance.”

Lois followed him into the kitchen, where the table was already set with bowls of the hearty dish. She took a cautious bite, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“This is… really good,” she admitted, savoring the mix of flavors. She shot him a teasing glance. “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Kent. It reminds me of why I married you.”

Clark grinned as he started with his own bowl. “You married me for my cooking skills, obviously.”

“Well, those are definitely a perk,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Though I seem to recall you advertising other talents - flying, lifting heavy things, cleaning the house at superspeed...”

“True,” Clark replied, his grin widening. “But most of those don’t really help in the kitchen.”

“Exactly,” she quipped. “The only thing you’re lifting in here is my opinion of breakfast food. And, let’s be honest, you’re also saving me from my own cooking disasters.”

Clark laughed, giving her a mock bow. “Always happy to be your culinary superhero. But breakfast is just the start. After work, I thought we could do something inspired by today’s story.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess - spinning webs?”

“Close,” he said, his voice softening. “Mom and her friends in Smallville knitted some scarves, gloves and blankets. I thought we could deliver them to the shelter. It’s a small way to weave a little warmth and hope into someone else’s life, like the spiders did for the widow.”

Lois paused, her expression softening as she looked at him. “I like that,” she said, her voice quiet but warm.

With that Clark cleaned the kitchen in superspeed before flying both of them to work.

---

Later that evening, after their trip to the shelter, Lois and Clark returned home. The memory of grateful smiles stayed with her as they placed the empty donation bags by the door.

Lois lingered by the Christmas tree, her eyes on the spider web decorations now draped across the branches. They shimmered in the soft light.

“You know,” she said quietly, “there’s something comforting about this story. It’s like… no matter how hopeless things feel, there’s always a chance for something beautiful to surprise you.”

Clark came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That’s what I love about Christmas,” he said, his voice low and warm. “It’s not just about what we give or get. It’s about noticing the beauty in the small, unexpected things.”

Lois leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “For showing me that.”

Clark kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

Together, they stood in the glow of the tree, the spiderwebs shimmering like spun gold. And for the first time, Lois felt the stirrings of a quieter, simpler kind of Christmas magic, one that reminded her of the joy found in unexpected places.

Lois woke up shivering. The other side of the bed was empty again, the covers cool to the touch. Clark had been called away hours ago to deal with the aftermath of a severe snowstorm.

She pulled on a cozy robe and padded to the window. Outside, the city was wrapped in a thick white blanket, the soft snowfall transforming everything into a scene straight out of a Christmas card. She sighed, already missing Clarks warmth, before heading downstairs.

In the living room, the Advent basket sat waiting, each bag tied neatly with its ribbon. Lois hesitated, her hand hovering over it. Clark had been the one to introduce this new tradition, filling each bag with thought and care. Opening it without him didn’t feel right.

With a sigh, she left the bag untouched and went to get ready for work. As she slipped on her coat and grabbed her keys, she glanced once more at the basket, silently hoping Clark would make it back in time to share the tradition later.

---

Clark finally joined her at the Planet just before the morning staff meeting. He looked worn, his shoulders heavy, his expression distant.

“Was it bad?” Lois whispered after greeting him with a quick kiss.

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “It was... Let’s talk about it later.”

Before she could press further, Perry’s booming voice summoned them all to the conference room. During the meeting, Lois held Clark’s hand under the table, gently squeezing it now and then, offering quiet support. She whispered small comments to him whenever Perry wasn’t looking, trying to lighten his mood.

During a pause in the meeting, she leaned closer. “I waited with the calendar, so you can watch me open it.”

That earned her a faint smile, the first she’d seen from him all morning. She realized then that this new tradition wasn’t just bringing her joy, it meant just as much to Clark.

---

Later, when they returned home, Lois quickly found the right bag, while Clark disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he handed her a glass of something a few minutes later. The liquid smelled of raspberries and spices, Clark smiled, the weariness in his eyes fading. “This is called Julebrus, a soft drink from today’s country.”

Lois took a sip, the tart sweetness surprising her. “I like this,” she said, her eyes flicking back to him. “And I like seeing you relax again. Tough night?”

Clark nodded. “It wasn’t the rescues themselves. People were scared and upset - and some blamed me for not getting to them faster.”

She sighed, her hand resting on his. “Unfortunately, the weeks before Christmas tend to bring out people’s stress. But you helped, Clark. You always do.” She kissed him tenderly.

“Thank you, honey.” His expression softened and he gestured to the bag. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Lois untied the ribbon. Inside, she found a small wooden bird ornament. She turned it over in her hands, admiring its simplicity. “Okay, what’s today’s tradition? Something bird-related, I’m guessing?”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice warm. “Today’s tradition is from Norway. It’s called Julenek. Every Christmas, Norwegians tie a sheaf of grain, like this one, to a tree or pole outside their homes. It’s meant to feed the birds during the harsh winter and symbolizes kindness and care for all creatures.”

Lois smiled, touched by the idea. “That’s really sweet. So even the birds get to celebrate Christmas?”

“Exactly,” Clark said. “It’s about finding small ways to help, no matter how insignificant they might seem. And it’s a reminder that even in the coldest times, we can spread warmth.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “Do we get to make one ourselves?”

Clark grinned and revealed a bundle of wheat, neatly tied with a red ribbon. “Already prepared. I thought we could hang it outside together. And I set up a few more feeders around the neighborhood earlier this morning while I was out. It’s not just for the birds, either, it’s a way to spread a little joy to anyone who passes by and sees them.”

They stepped into the snowy yard together, carrying the sheaf. The cold air bit at Lois’ cheeks, but the sight of the pristine snow and twinkling lights from their neighbors’ houses felt almost magical. They tied the wheat sheaf to a pole, the red ribbon standing out like a cheerful burst of color.

As Clark stepped back to admire their work, Lois scooped up a handful of snow, forming it into a quick, lopsided ball. With a mischievous grin, she called out, “Hey, farmboy!”

Clark turned just in time for the snowball to hit him squarely in the chest. He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You’re sure you want to start this?”

“Oh, I’m positive,” Lois said, already gathering another snowball.

Clark bent down, moving in a blur to pack a perfect snowball of his own. Lois barely had time to yelp before it lightly grazed her arm. “That’s cheating!” she laughed, ducking behind a tree.

“All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Clark teased, lobbing another snowball her way.

The yard quickly turned into their battlefield, laughter echoing through the crisp air as snow flew back and forth. Lois managed to land a well-aimed shot on his shoulder, only for Clark to retaliate by gently sprinkling a handful of snow over her head, leaving her sputtering and giggling.

Their playful battle left them laughing and breathless, snow clinging to their hair and coats. Finally, Lois called out, “Truce!” holding up her hands. Clark, already closing the distance between them, pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Truce,” he agreed, brushing a few stray flakes from her hair. She leaned into him, his warmth melting away the cold.

They stood there for a moment, the snow gently falling around them, cocooned in their own little world. Clark rested his chin on top of her head, his voice soft. “You know, I think I won this round.”

Lois tilted her head back to look at him, smirking. “Only because you cheated, flyboy.” She whispered the last word.

He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Maybe. But I’ll make it up to you later.” Reluctantly, they pulled apart and headed back toward the house.

Later as she looked out into their yard Lois saw a small flock of sparrows fluttering down to the wheat sheaf. She smiled, watching the tiny creatures pecking at their unexpected gift. A quiet smile spread across her face.

“They’re already coming,” she said softly.

Clark slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “It’s amazing how a small gesture can make a difference, isn’t it?”

Lois leaned into him. “It really is.”

The gentle crackle of the fire filled the room as Lois’s gaze drifted to the bird ornament on their tree. It rested among the spider and the cucumber, each a testament to traditions that carried unexpected beauty and meaning.

“It’s funny,” she said after a moment, her voice thoughtful. “I never thought about how different Christmas is celebrated in other countries, but somehow the heart of it always stays the same.”

Clark turned his head to look at her, a quiet smile on his lips. “And how love, in all its forms, is at the heart of it all.”

Her eyes softened as she met his gaze. “I’m starting to think you’re the heart of all this, farm-boy.”

He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her gently. “Only because you’re mine.”

The warmth of the day lingered in the quiet comfort of their embrace as they watched the flames dance. Outside, the faint song of birds seemed to echo the harmony they felt in their hearts.

Lois awoke to the soft patter of rain against the windows, a gray December morning greeting her through the faint glow of the curtains. The snow had melted into scattered patches of ice, leaving the city draped in shades of gray. Beside her, Clark slept peacefully, his breathing deep and steady. She smiled, her heart warming at the sight of him so at ease.

Quietly slipping out of bed, she padded into the kitchen, determined to surprise him. She brewed a pot of coffee and set out his favorite mug, a gift she’d bought him not long after learning his secret. At the time, she’d needed a little space to process everything, but when the dust settled, she’d stumbled on the perfect mug:

"Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is just be yourself."

It had come to symbolize the moment they truly became a team, secrets and all. She smiled, as she set the table.

“Well, good morning,” Clark said from behind her, already dressed and ready. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Lois teased, a smirk playing on her lips. “Mad Dog Lane has got a reputation to protect.”

Clark chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “So, what’s the occasion? You’re pampering me - there’s got to be an angle.”

“Can’t I just do something nice for my husband?” she asked, tilting her head and leaning up to kiss him.

After breakfast she went to the calendar, untying the ribbon of the bag, a cherry ornament fell out. “A cherry?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Today’s tradition is tied to Saint Barbara’s Day. I learned about it in Lithuania. People cut branches from cherry or apple trees and bring them indoors. If the branches bloom by Christmas, it’s a sign of good luck and prosperity.”

Lois turned the ornament in her hands, intrigued. “So, it’s like fortune-telling, but with flowers?”

“In a way,” Clark said. “But it’s more about patience and hope - watching something bloom in the heart of winter. I thought we could head to the park on our way to work. We’ll bring some branches back and see what happens.”

After breakfast they grabbed their umbrellas and headed out. A cold wind blew around them as they wandered through the park, the trees standing bare against the winter sky. Clark carefully selected a couple of branches from an old cherry tree and handed them to Lois.

“These should do,” he said with a smile. “Now we just need to give them a little warmth and care.”

---

Later that day, the newsroom was abuzz with its usual energy. Lois sat at her desk, typing up notes.

Clark leaned over, catching her eye. “How’s the story coming?”

“Slowly,” Lois muttered, brushing a strand of hair back. “But it’s getting there. You?”

“Pretty much done. Just waiting on a call to confirm a detail.”

Before they could say more, Perry strolled over, coffee cup in hand. He gestured at the vase on Lois’s desk. “What’s that? New Christmas decor?”

Lois smirked. “It’s for St. Barbara’s Day. Clark introduced me to the tradition. If the branch blooms by Christmas, it’s supposed to bring good luck.”

Perry studied the branch with interest. “Good luck, huh? Well, we could use some of that. Christmas season’s a snooze-fest for news.”

Clark chuckled. “It’s more about hope than luck - a reminder that good things can grow even in tough times.”

Perry nodded, his expression softening. “You know, you two could teach this old dog a thing or two about keeping the faith.”

Lois smirked. “We’ll try not to rub off on you too much, Chief. Wouldn’t want you getting too sentimental - besides, you and Clark are the sentimental softies here, not me.”

“Don’t push your luck, Lane,” Perry retorted with a wink. “Now, if you two lovebirds can tear yourselves away from horticulture, I need that exposé by end of day.”

As he walked away, Clark glanced at Lois. “Sentimental softy, huh?”

She shrugged, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “It’s part of your charm, honey. People can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy around you.”

He chuckled. “Even you?”

“Especially me.” Lois leaned back in her chair, giving him a playful look.

Clark reached over, his hand brushing hers briefly. “Well, I ‘m glad it works on you.”

Lois smirked, but her eyes softened as she glanced at the branch again. “Yeah, it does.”

She stole a kiss from Clark before they got back to work.

---

That evening, the house glowed with warmth as Lois set the branches on the windowsill.

Clark handed her a mug. The faint aroma of honey and something earthy filled the air.

“This,” he said, gesturing to the creamy drink, “is Aguonų pienas - poppy seed milk. It’s another Lithuanian Christmas tradition, usually served during Kūčios, their Christmas Eve dinner because poppy seeds were believed to symbolize the return of the sun and the promise of longer, lighter days ahead.”

Lois picked up the mug, studying the pale, milky liquid. She took a cautious sip, her brows lifting in pleasant surprise. “It’s sweet. I like it.”

Clark smiled, his gaze soft as he watched her. “Sweet, like my beautiful wife.”

Lois set the mug down and leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”

“And you love me for it,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her.

She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

They sat in peaceful silence, the fire’s warmth and rain’s gentle rhythm wrapping them in calm.

If you keep this up, you'll be spending Christmas in the newsroom, no eggnog for you!

Naughty list alert! Not even Kryptonian powers can get you out of trouble for jumping ahead.

Relax, it’s not a breaking news story! No need to open this door faster than Clark changes into the suit.

Clark wouldn’t approve of this sneaky behavior. Lois might... but only if you share the scoop with her!

Santa sees you! And so does Superman. Close this door!

If you open this door early, Lois will be cooking the Christmas dinner. Still tempted?

You know who’s a very patient man? Clark. Be like Clark.

Don’t make me call Perry! He’d have a thing or two to say about ruining the Christmas surprise.

Lois often got in trouble for rushing in too soon - don’t make the same mistake!

This isn’t a scoop; it’s an advent calendar. Timing is everything!

Patience, please! Otherwise Luthor might be waiting behind this door and he’s never one to give up easily!

Clark says patience is a superpower. Channel your inner superhero and wait.

Peek now, and you’ll miss the magic. Even Superman doesn’t use his buzz buzz to spoil the surprise!

Are you investigating the door early? Lois might approve, but Santa won’t.

Open this door early, and you’re tempting fate - Jimmy will probably burst in just as Lois and Clark share a quiet moment. Best to wait and avoid the interruption!

Faster than a speeding bullet? You’re faster than the author!