Hopefully, I haven't lost too many of you with this last delay. Once again, every time I proofread this section, one or the other of them would think of something else to say, and there I'd be, trying to make sure it all made sense and flowed okay... (Ah, the trials and tribulations of dealing with Muses. Or talkative characters. Or something.) :rolleyes:
From part 21.5:
As they exited the elevator, he took her hand. She curled her fingers around his, and they walked in comfortable silence to her car. Within a few minutes, they were driving through the city toward his apartment.
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The Girl Next Door, part 22:
When Clark had said he would cook her a nice meal, Lois had assumed he meant ‘cook’ in the sense of throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, or making sandwiches. Instead, she found herself in his kitchen, sitting at his table while he set water to boil for pasta, and began to gather ingredients for the sauce.
She watched as he added canned tomatoes, tomato paste, several different seasonings, and a generous amount of white wine to the bowl of a machine sitting next to his coffee-maker, and pressed a button. “This is my mom’s recipe,” he commented. “White wine marinara – I think you’ll like it.” After a few moments, he lifted the bowl off the machine – a food processor? – and set the now-blended mixture aside, and began to chop an onion.
“I don’t know how to cook anything that doesn’t come in its own pan, frozen, with directions on how long to leave it in the oven…” she said. “…Or the microwave.” What if he minded about that? What if it really mattered, and -
“That’s all right.” He said it over his shoulder, then turned back to his preparations. “I can teach you, if you really want to know how. But it’s not necessary, if you’d rather not. Don’t feel like you have to learn how to cook for me.”
He dumped the onions into a smaller pan, added a small amount of olive oil, then turned on the heat under it and began to gently stir the contents. “Mom has always felt that both girls *and* boys should learn basic housework – cooking, cleaning, and laundry – because these days, very few women stay home full time," he continued. He poured the blended mixture from the machine’s bowl into the pan and stirred it again. "It’s only fair that if a husband and wife both work outside the home, they should share the household tasks. I’m perfectly happy being the cook in this rela-” He stopped abruptly. “That is – well…” He stopped again.
Lois watched him, unconsciously holding her breath. Did he mean… ?
He turned the heat down under the small pan and covered it. Then he turned to face her fully. He looked – not worried, exactly, but… He must not have meant what it sounded like. And he was trying to find a gentle way to make sure she didn’t get the wrong idea… She exhaled. Time to let him off the hook.
“Clark… it’s okay,” she began awkwardly. “I didn’t think you meant – you know, anything specific about you and me, or… I mean, I know you didn’t mean you wanted to mar-“ She stopped, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat. She *wasn’t* going to get upset. Doggedly, she plowed on. “Well, you know – I didn’t take it seriously when your mom said –“
She stopped when he squatted down next to her chair, taking her hands in his. “Lois.” His eyes level with hers, he gazed at her seriously and said softly, “I *did* mean it. I *do* mean it. I *want* us to be… together, like that. I love you. I want…” He took a deep breath. “I want to marry you, Lois. I want us to be husband and wife. It feels like I’ve wanted that forever. But…” His mouth quirked into the beginning of a smile. “I didn’t intend to propose to you in between stirring the pasta sauce. I meant to wait for a nice, romantic moment. So…”
He sobered again. Letting go of her hands long enough to cup her face gently in his larger hands, he leaned forward to kiss her softly, sweetly – and way too briefly. When he pulled back, she saw everything he felt for her shining from his eyes. Taking her hands again, he continued, “Can you consider this a… pre-proposal statement of intent? And then –“ He smiled. “…Could you be surprised, when I ask you for real?”
He stopped rather abruptly again, the smile fading. “That is… If you even want to… Well, I guess I’m just assuming you’d say –“
She felt the joy welling up inside her. Would she float off the chair if he weren’t holding her hands? When he looked at her like that… When he was… pre-proposing? …She felt lighter than the air around her. So if she wasn’t actually floating, she ought to be.
“I will, Clark.”
“You’ll…?”
“I will. I *will* consider what you just said to be a pre-proposal. I *will* be surprised when you ask me for real. And –“ She smiled her own smile at him, letting him see everything she felt for him. “…I *will* say… ‘I will,’ …if you’re sure -”
His laugh was joyful. “I’m sure, Lois.” To her delighted amusement, he floated up off the floor. “I was sure almost from the moment I met you.”
She found herself floating, too - up off of the seat of her chair when he didn’t let go of her hands. And as he straightened, he shifted his hands to her waist, and lifted her and twirled her around. After a startled moment, she began to laugh, and he laughed with her, joyfully. And then they were both returning to stand on the floor, and she was in his arms. And he was kissing her, and nothing else mattered.
The only thing that saved the pasta sauce was the oven timer, beeping to announce that the preheat cycle had ended.
---
Lois ended up helping to prepare the meal. Clark had provided her with a large bowl, a cutting board, and a knife, and had then set several salad ingredients in front of her. “Can you cut these up and make a salad?” He had asked.
“I guess so,” she’d answered, slightly dubiously. She knew how the various ingredients should look in the final product, anyway. “Do they require any special sort of cutting?”
“No – just in bite-size pieces,” he’d said. “You can cut the lettuce in half, then separate the layers and tear them up into smaller pieces.” Indicating the small tomatoes, he’d continued, “These are cherry tomatoes. Some people leave them whole, but if you could cut them into quarters, that’ll be fine.”
So she’d torn up lettuce, cut tomatoes, and then, at his direction, sliced carrots and cucumbers. She’d also mixed up the dressing, again following his directions.
And so it was with a real sense of accomplishment that she’d joined him when everything was ready, and it seemed like everything tasted better than their equivalent versions in her favorite Italian restaurant. But maybe that was just because she was with Clark. Lots of things in her life seemed better since she’d met him.
“You were right, Clark,” she told him as they ate. “I think this is the best tomato sauce I’ve ever tasted.”
He smiled at her. “Mom calls it ‘The Best Marinara Sauce Yet.’ She won a ribbon with it several years ago at the Corn Festival. I think the wine is what makes the difference. And it’s relatively easy - and quick – to make.”
“Well, it’s very good.” She hesitated, then asked, “Have you talked to them? You know, since…”
“Since Jor-El spoke to us?” He nodded. “Yes. I called them this morning, before I came by your place.” His smile widened. “It’s a good thing I have super powers; Mom squealed so loudly when I told her, I’d have gone deaf if I wasn’t invulnerable. She shouted for Dad to come to the phone, and then she had me tell them both all over again. They’re absolutely thrilled for us, and they want to know when we’ll come out there again.”
“I’d like to see them again; I liked your parents,” she said shyly.
“And you know they like you,” he said. “Mom suggested this coming weekend; we could go out there Friday night for supper, then come back on Saturday night or Sunday morning. What do you think?”
“I’d like that, except…” She hesitated. There was only one spare bedroom at his parents’ house. Where would they each sleep? She and Clark hadn’t really discussed intimacy at all; …things… hadn’t progressed beyond holding each other and kissing. Yet. She didn’t even know how much experience he had in that area. He was certainly a good kisser… She glanced up at him.
He was waiting patiently while she worked through her thoughts. With a gentle smile, he said encouragingly, “…Except… ?”
“Well…” She hesitated again.
This was silly. She was Mad Dog Lane, for heaven’s sake! “Um…” She squared her shoulders. “Where would we stay, Clark? Your parents only have one extra bedroom. It’s not that I don’t want…” She floundered. This was easier to think about than it was to talk about, and that wasn’t saying much. “Well, I’m just not sure I’m ready… That *we’re* ready…” She glanced rather desperately at the front door. Would it look silly if she made a dive for it?
But her prince was nodding calmly, and reaching out to place his hand over her agitated one. She’d been pushing the last few bites of pasta around on her plate; his touch stilled her fidgety movements. She looked up into his concerned and sympathetic eyes.
“It’s all right, Lois.” He said it softly. “I understand, and… I agree.” He rose and came around to her side, squatting down again so that their eyes were nearly level. One side of his mouth quirking into a half grin, he said, still softly, “I seem to be making a habit of kneeling at your feet, my love.”
She gave a choked laugh. “Clark –“
He took her hands in his, sobering. “Lois, I love you. That means I want… well, what you want. I want your happiness. And you seem to want mine?” When she nodded, he continued, “We want what’s best for each other – it’s why the idea of being related was so hard. Neither of us wanted the other to be unhappy, but the situation was not under our control. Now that we know the truth – well, we have all the time in the world. For intimacy. I’m perfectly happy taking it slow.”
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Oh, Clark.” It was nearly a whisper. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and kissed him softly, then tipped her forehead against his. This was easier to say if she wasn’t looking directly at him. “I’m… Well, I have no experience. At all. In… you know…”
One of his hands let go of hers, and came up to stroke her cheek. Then he pulled back slightly, curving his hand under her chin and tipping her head up so that he could look into her eyes. “Neither do I,” he whispered with a soft smile. “At all. So… we’ll learn together, okay? But not right now… later on. When we both feel it’s the right time. And maybe that will be…” His other hand came up to frame her face, and he kissed her as gently as she had kissed him. It felt like a promise. “…On our wedding night. There’s no pressure, Lois. Okay?”
She nodded solemnly.
He kissed her again, just as gently. “And don’t worry – at Mom and Dad’s house, you’ll get my old room. I’ll sleep on the couch. They won’t assume anything different, Lois. We won’t have to explain anything to them.” Taking her hands again, he asked, “Does that help?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Clark.” She looked at him for a moment. He was so good-looking, and so self-confident, and… he was such a good kisser. How had he managed to not…
“Lois? What is it?” He was still holding her hands; he squeezed them slightly and added, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
She took one hand from his and gently touched his forehead, running her fingers through his hairline to his temple, before returning her hand to his. “How did you…? Well… You’re so…” She stopped, but he smiled encouragingly at her. She began again. “I thought all guys… You’re so good-looking, Clark. You must have dated, in high school, or college… But you’ve never… ?”
“No, I haven’t.” He looked at her seriously. “There was just no one I ever… felt I could share that with. Yes, I did date; in high school, it was more… a sort of group of us that hung around together, although a few of the gang were considered to be couples. But it wasn’t anything intense - at least, not for me. And in college, it was still pretty casual. I had a couple of girlfriends, but being that intimate… Well, I never felt I could share something that close without sharing my secret first. And I never felt close enough to anyone to even consider it, until I met you.”
He paused, then continued with a slight smile, “That works both ways, anyway, Lois. You’re a strikingly beautiful young woman, but you’ve never been tempted, either. I know you grew up differently, and held yourself apart from your peers more than I did… But still, we all have a need for closeness with another person. There *must* have been men who showed an interest, but you never reciprocated - no matter how... lonely you might have been.”
“You’re right,” she replied slowly. “There were a few guys that… asked me out, especially in college. But even if I was lonely, it was never worth the risk of getting close to someone. It was easy to say no to them.” She smiled at him. “I never even thought about sharing my secret with anyone but you.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thanks, Clark.”
“You’re welcome.” He raised her hands, still in his, and kissed the backs of her fingers, then let them go to cup her face for another kiss. “So… What do you think? Would you like to visit Mom and Dad this weekend?”
“Yes, I would,” she told him.
“Okay. I’ll call them and let them know.” He rose to his feet. “Now - I have a surprise for you,” he said with a small grin. “A dessert I picked up earlier.”
He had set up the coffee maker earlier in the evening; now he pressed the switch to start the coffee brewing. As the machine began brew, he moved to the refrigerator, opened it, and removed a cardboard pastry box.
Intrigued, she focused on it and -
“No peeking,” he said sternly.
She harrumphed at him. “Fine.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and sat back, arms folded, and gave him an imperial look. “So? Surprise me, already.” She lost the fight to suppress her smile when he winked at her and performed an elaborate bow.
“Yes, milady,” he intoned seriously, and then they were both laughing.
Returning to the table, he took his seat opposite her again, then opened the box with a flourish to reveal a tiny and elaborate chocolate creation – a cake? – just right for two people.
“Oh! What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a chocolate hazelnut truffle cake. There’s a little place in San Francisco that sells them.” He carefully lifted the cake out – it was presented on a small, pale yellow ceramic plate - and set it between them, then handed her a fork.
She hesitated. “It’s almost too pretty to eat, Clark…” Then, as he grinned at her, she smiled back and they said simultaneously, “Nah…”
Laughing, she tried a bite.
“Oh.” She closed her eyes and savored the taste. Opening her eyes again, she met his amused look and said, “Marry me.”
He threw his head back and laughed heartily.
They shared the cake between them. Clark got up long enough to pour them each a cup of coffee.
As they were finishing, she remembered their earlier conversation, the one that had been put on hold when they arrived at work.
“This morning, we were talking about your hearing cries for help better than me,” she reminded him. “For instance, yesterday, I never heard either of those car accidents.”
“Well, I heard the first one just after I landed on the Planet’s roof,” he said. “It was probably easier for me to hear it, though, because I was up there in the open – you were inside the building, so sounds would be more muted, you know.”
She nodded. “What was Superman needed for just after the fire, by the way? You made it back to the Planet – as far as the roof, anyway – only about a half hour after Jimmy and I left the fire.”
“An attempted car-jacking.” He grinned. “The carjacker must have thought I couldn’t chase him down. While the victim stood on the curb – with a few witnesses – and called the police from his cell phone, I grabbed the car and returned it to the scene of the crime. I held the car up in the air until the police arrived, then brought it down and let them take over. The carjacker seemed a little shaken.”
She laughed. “I’ll bet. Nice job, flyboy.”
“Thanks. I thought it had a certain… flair.” He winked at her. “Too bad there weren’t any reporters around.” As she laughed, he continued with a grin, “Anyway, after that, I headed back. Just after I spun out of the suit, I heard the first of the cars hit the next one, and by the time I got there, it was a sort of domino effect. Five cars in all. They hit pretty hard – there were some fairly serious injuries, and Superman helped free two trapped people. He also took a couple of the less injured victims to the hospital.”
“Yeah, LNN showed it. They had a helicopter there – the cameraman got some nice, clear shots of Superman peeling open that one car to get to the driver. It was pretty impressive.”
He smiled at her. “And the pilot had the good sense to stay out of my – I mean, out of Superman’s – way. So Superman could do his job and help the rescue personnel free those people.”
“Okay…” She shook her head at him. “…It’s just weird to talk about you in the third person when we’re alone, Clark.”
He laughed. “Mom says the same thing. If you’d like, we can save the third person for when we’re in public.” He stood up and reached for her empty plate, stacking it with his.
“I do like. I don’t really see either of us slipping up when we’re at the Planet, or at some emergency or something, Clark.” She got up, too, and began to help him clear the meal. “We’ve both had to hide our abilities all of our lives, after all. It’d be different, I think, if only one of us – you – were…” She frowned. “What do we call it, anyway? Different? …Kryptonian? A strange visitor from another Planet?” She ignored his snort of laughter. “…Super?”
“Kryptonian, I guess – or super,” he replied, opening one of the cupboard doors and removing several food storage containers. “It still feels a little… pretentious to me, but with the Superman name, that description – super - *has* sort of caught on with the media.”
She grinned at him. “Hey, I had to come up with some sort of name for you in less than a minute – and I’ll bet that was something you didn’t think about at all, flyboy, what to tell people to call you.” She gathered the salad plates, stacking them with the larger plates. “The name had to go with that ‘S’ on your chest. At least I didn’t say something like… ‘Splendiferous Man’ or… ‘Supreme Guy,’ or ‘Sensational Man,’ or… or Sean, or something.”
He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “And I want you to know how much I appreciate it that you *didn’t* say Splendiferous Man. Or Supreme Guy – that makes me sound like the pizza delivery boy.”
She was laughing, too. “Help, Supreme Guy! I don’t know what to cook for dinner!”
That cracked them both up. He had to set down the food container, and it took several minutes for him to stop laughing enough to speak. “And… *Sean*?”
She had been leaning against the counter, laughing; she straightened, grinning, and waved a hand airily. “All I could think of was male ‘S’ names. Sam… Steve… Stanley… Stuart… Sean… They all flashed through my mind. But it needed to be something… grander. And it had to start with ‘S,’ of course…”
Still chuckling, he replied, “Well, you’re right – I never thought at all about what to call myself. I never even realized I hadn’t thought about it, until just now.” He sobered slightly as he looked at her. “Thank you, Lois. I was still in the planning stages, you know. I was at Mom and Dad’s; we were watching the launch on TV when that alarm went off. So I just reacted. I never thought about the media, or a name, or anything. And then when I looked into the shuttle and saw you…” He moved closer.
She smiled up at him. “I was awfully glad to see you, Clark. And then – to realize that the man with the same abilities as me, the one saving the shuttle from a bomb, was *you*…” She reached up and gently stroked his cheek and jaw. “I had been fighting my attraction to you so hard. It was such a relief to realize that I could tell you this hidden thing about me, and that you would understand…” Softly, she finished, “That was when I began to think that maybe I *could* have a future with you.”
He captured her hand against his cheek, then turned his head and kissed her palm. Looking back at her, he said, “Before I knew your secret, I was so afraid that you’d… see my abilities, and not *me*. And then I thought you would recognize me, and I was afraid…”
“That I might print it?” she asked.
“No!” He frowned. “No, never that – even though it would have been the story of the century. No. I never thought that you’d print it. I already knew you would never do something like that to a friend – to me.”
“Clark, I was so mean to you!” She looked down, biting her lip. She hadn’t been very friendly even at the best of times, and especially that awful day when those people had been killed in that tenement fire.
“No you weren’t, Lois.” He gently touched her jaw, urging her chin up until she looked him in the eye. “You’re thinking about that fire, aren’t you? I knew you didn’t really mean the things you said. It was obvious – to me, anyway – that something horrible had happened. And I knew if I gave you a little time, you’d be able to talk about it.”
She hugged him fiercely. “Thanks, Clark.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and his arms were tight around her as he hugged her back. “For not giving up on me.”
He chuckled, and she felt it rumble through her. Resting his chin lightly on top of her head, he said softly. “You’re welcome.”
After a few moments, she pulled away slightly. “What were you afraid of, then, Clark?”
He smiled crookedly at her. “I thought you might recognize me and… I don’t know… Hate me. For having this secret. For not telling you. And I didn’t want to lose your friendship.”
She told him earnestly, “I didn’t hate you. I was just so… relieved. That it was you. If there was going to be somebody else like me…” She paused. “I’m saying it awkwardly, but what I mean is, if… Well, there’s no one else I’d have wanted it to be. Does that make sense?”
He tightened his arms around her in another hug, then let her go. “Yes.”
“…All I knew was that I had to reassure you that your secret was safe,” she continued. “And then – I had to tell you about me.”
“And you did. And after overcoming a few obstacles, here we are.” He glanced around, and then gestured at the table. “Cleaning up my kitchen.”
She laughed. “I think ‘a few obstacles’ is rather an understatement, Kent.”
He laughed and went back to scooping the leftover salad into the storage container.
She gathered the silverware. “So, anyway - on your way back from that big multi-car accident, there was the other one – the one on Michigan…”
“Yeah… That one wasn’t too bad, although one car was flipped over. But no one was injured seriously – just bumps and bruises.” He was spooning the leftover pasta into one of the larger storage containers.
Lois stacked their plates on the counter. “Leave those – I’ll do them,” Clark told her as she began to run water into the sink.
“Tell you what - you put away the leftover food, and I’ll do the dishes,” she suggested. She winked at him, turned back to the sink, and tossed over her shoulder, “Race ya!”
“Lois -!” she heard him laughingly exclaim, as she poured on the speed.
Seconds later, finishing, she dried the last plate, hung up the towel, then slowed and turned back to him, laughing. “Ha!”
He was still a blur, but as she turned fully toward him, he slowed, and she saw him shut the refrigerator. He, too, was laughing. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he said, “You win!” He moved toward her, gathering her into a hug. “…You goof,” he murmured. As she laughed up at him, snuggling closer, he dropped a quick kiss onto her lips. Then sobering, he slid one hand up to cup the back of her head and kissed her again, more deeply.
It was several minutes before they separated slightly, Lois laying her head against his chest just over his heart. He kissed her hair, then laid his cheek against the top of her head, and they just stood that way for a while, there in his kitchen, enjoying the freedom to hold each other like this.
Finally, he stirred, arms loosening from around her. “Let me make some more coffee and then let’s go sit down,” he suggested. “We can watch a movie, or just talk.” He kissed her lightly. “And I can hold you.”
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To be continued
