Honeymoon in... Vegas 2/7
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Friday afternoon
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"Clark's in the hospital?" Jonathan dusted his hands off on the seat of his pants. "What do you mean Clark's in the hospital? What happened?"
"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me. They said they needed someone to come and make medical decisions for him and Lois."
"Lois is in the hospital?" Jonathan shook his head in bewilderment. "Why would they ask us to make medical decisions for Lois?"
"Because they're married," Martha said as if that should have been blatantly obvious.
"They're... what?" Jonathan wondered if Martha had decided to tipple the afternoon away. That thought made about as much sense as Clark being in the hospital or unexpectedly married.
"Go get cleaned up." Martha waved at the house. "I'll call the airline."
He was about to argue with her, or lean closer to smell her breath, when the nervous flutter of her hands caught his attention. Martha wasn't pulling a prank on him. She was in earnest.
"Twenty minutes," he told her. "I can be ready in twenty minutes." He took hold of her hands to stop them from shaking. "There's no sense in worrying until we know what's happened."
"He's in a hospital," Martha said softly, as if the repetition of the words held the secret to explaining them. She squeezed her husband's hand, knowing that he understood as well as she did that Clark being in the hospital was reason enough to worry, let alone that he couldn't make decisions for himself. Or Lois, she reminded her herself. If there was one thing she knew with certainty, it was that Clark would protect Lois to his last breath. If they were both in a hospital it meant that Clark was...
Martha closed her eyes, unable to finish that thought.
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The previous Monday night
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"Sorry it ain't the honeymoon suite," Mickey said as they rode in the elevator. "But you just need a bed and a door that locks, am I right?" He let out a long laugh at his own lame joke and one of his bodyguards joined in. The man had a flattened nose and Lois wondered who had broken it for him and why.
The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor and the doors opened. Clark and Lois both stepped out, grateful to be away from Mickey and his crew. Mickey continued to ramble on, "I'll meet you in the lobby at seven o'clock for dinner. Don't you stand me up or I'll..." The doors closed, cutting off the rest of his words.
"Twelve-twenty," Lois muttered to herself as she walked down the hallway in search of their room. She felt desperate to keep moving, to be doing something. Otherwise she was going to start thinking and she hated to admit to herself that she had no idea what to do next. "Twelve-twenty, twelve-twenty." She stopped in front of their room and tried the key card in the door. The light flickered red and she let out an exasperated sigh and tried again. This time the light went green and she pressed down on the handle and opened the door.
"Don't you want me to carry you over the threshold?" Clark teased as she moved inside.
She ignored him and tossed her purse onto the king-size bed as she strode over to the window to look outside. The view of the fountains in front of the casino did nothing to quell the claustrophobia she was feeling. She had thought she'd feel better after she got away from Mickey's leers and dirty jokes but she still felt trapped.
She was married. Married! To Clark. She was married to Clark. If she kept repeating the words she was sure they would start to make sense soon. What on earth had possessed her to agree to this? Other than a completely rational fear of Mickey and his gun-toting buddies? She turned away from the window to see Clark dialing the phone.
"Who are you calling?" she asked suspiciously.
"Perry," he answered. "I figured we'd better tell him where we are."
"Are you insane?" Lois rushed over and pushed down on the receiver to cut off the call. "What are you going to tell him? That we followed Mickey to Vegas, promptly got caught, and then, oh, by the way, we had to get married so that Mickey wouldn't sic his goons on us?"
"I was going to leave out the marriage part."
Lois narrowed her eyes at him. "Let's wait until after dinner to call Perry. Maybe Mickey will spill his guts after a couple of bottles of wine."
Clark hung up the phone. "Whatever you say, dear."
"Don't get cute with me," she threatened.
"Or what?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "The honeymoon is over?"
Heat rushed to her face and she couldn't think of a single snappy retort for him. "There is no honeymoon," she hissed. "We're getting this annulled as soon as possible."
"Of course," Clark said, knowing that his tone was just soothing enough to increase her irritation. "But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the free honeymoon while it lasts."
Lois let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't be stupid. If we consummate this marriage, we can't annul it!"
He grinned at her in delight. "Lois, who said anything about consummating this marriage?"
For a moment she simply gaped at him, horrified that he had trapped her so effortlessly in her own words. Where was her mind? It was so unfair that the teensiest little part of her wished that the kiss he had given her back in that gaudy wedding chapel had been the real thing. Even knowing that it was just for show had not stopped her toes from curling. It had been just the right mix of soft and demanding and it had brought back memories of another kiss he had given her under equally false marital circumstances. Clark's pretend kisses always seemed to promise so much more - it made her restless to know what a real kiss from him would be like.
The pleased little smile he was giving her now was the same as when he had called her 'Mrs. Kent' earlier. It irked her even more to realize that he was enjoying having a laugh at her expense. Lois opened and closed her mouth a few times but couldn't think of an insult to hurl at him. To her immense relief there was a knock on the door to distract her.
When she opened the door the man with the flat nose held out a garment bag to her. "Mrs. Kent," he said in a mocking sing-song voice. "Mickey asked me to deliver this to you. He wanted me to remind you two not to disappoint him for dinner."
Lois numbly accepted the bag, draping it over her arm as the man gave her a slow once-over. She slammed the door shut and impulsively threw both the lock and the security latch for good measure.
"What is it?" Clark asked from behind her.
"Something Mickey sent over." She hung the bag on the wall hook near the desk and unzipped it.
"Mickey sent you a dress?" Clark fought to hide a smile. He was absolutely certain that Lois was going to snap out of her daze soon and he'd be a dead man for teasing her. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the cognitive dissonance of being so unexpectedly married to her while it lasted. She might have thought the kiss he gave her after they were pronounced man and wife was for the benefit of Mickey and his entourage - and it was - but for just a moment he had let himself pretend he was really hers.
Lois removed the dress from the garment bag. It was red - Superman red - and she was dismayed to see how plunging the neckline was. "Does he really think I'll wear this? I'm going to look like a call girl!"
"A high-priced call girl, if it makes you feel any better," Clark teased. She frowned at him and he managed to look vaguely chagrined. "If you don't want to wear the dress, Lois, don't wear the dress. Put it back in the bag and return it to him at dinner."
"I don't know..." Lois held the dress against her experimentally and looked at her reflection in the mirror above the desk. It was a halter-top dress so she'd have to forgo wearing a bra. "Do you think I should wear the dress?"
That had to be a trick question but he answered her with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Are you asking your husband or your partner on this stakeout?"
Their eyes met in the mirror and she tilted her head in curiosity. "Does it matter?"
"Sure, it matters. If you wear that dress we might not need to ply Mickey with wine to get him to talk." Clark risked her ire and flashed her a grin.
The risk paid off and she grinned back at him. "So, as my partner, the answer is 'yes'?"
He nodded.
Lois raised an eyebrow, spotting an opportunity to make him pay for his comment about consummating the marriage. "And as my husband? What would you say then?"
Clark looked at the way the dress was draped over her soft curves and found he had to clear his throat to answer. "I'd say I was the luckiest man in the world."
Feeling emboldened by the admiration on his face and absolutely certain she was about to break even on the conversation, Lois winked at him in the mirror. "Ply me with enough wine and maybe you'll get lucky tonight." The gamble paid off and Clark hurriedly looked away, but not before she saw him blush. She brushed past him before he could form a response and felt like her equilibrium had been restored.
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Lois scrutinized her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There wasn't much she could do with her hair. The dress was a little big on her, which meant that she had to keep her shoulders back or she was going to give everyone more than cleavage to look at. Suddenly seized with inspiration, she rifled through her purse and found a small brooch. She pinned the dress together at her breasts and felt much better. Not only did it make her look less slutty, but it also helped soothe her fears of accidental exposure.
She took one last deep breath, smoothed her hair nervously and then opened the door. Clark was standing across the room near the window. He turned around when she asked, "Well, how do I look?"
Clark froze, his gaze momentarily stuck below her face. "Uh, you look... wow. You look amazing."
"Really?" She turned around slowly to give him a view of her bare back. She had decided to wear the dress simply to see Clark's reaction and, so far, he wasn't disappointing her. It was only fair to reward his interest. She walked towards him, noting with delight the distracted look on his face. Lois brushed some imaginary lint from his lapel and then smoothed his tie unnecessarily. "Shall we go?" she asked and took his arm.
They stepped out of the elevator to find Mickey, now dressed in a suit, waiting for them. Clark looked around but he couldn't see the bodyguards anywhere nearby.
"Lois!" Mickey let out a wolf whistle. "I shoulda married you myself. You look so good I could ravish you five times before we even got back to the room."
"Hey," Clark said as his arm went around Lois's shoulders possessively. "You're talking about my wife."
Mickey blinked in surprise at the low threat in Clark's voice. He took a step back and held up his hands. "Down boy. I meant no disrespect."
Caught off-guard by his possessive words and touch, Lois glanced up at Clark. She had never seen Clark look so stern and imposing before - and yet his expression was so familiar. She gave Mickey a tight smile. "Let's just go and eat now, shall we?"
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After dinner, Mickey told them to order dessert on his tab and then excused himself. Both Clark and Lois rose to follow as soon as he disappeared from the restaurant. They trailed him through the casino and outside to the fountains. Mickey stood near a fountain, smoking a cigar and repeatedly checking his watch. Clark and Lois lingered in the colonnade and watched as another man came up to Mickey and appeared to ask for a light. Clark tried to eavesdrop but there were too many people around and the splash of the water in the fountains was distracting. He could only catch snatches of their conversation.
"You're the lip reader. What are they saying?" Lois asked impatiently.
"Something about a shipment, Big Joe, and tomorrow, nine o'clock at Hoover Dam," Clark said.
"Big Joe? A shipment? A shipment of what?"
Clark ducked behind a column as Mickey turned and began walking towards them. Lois pressed up close against him to avoid detection. Clark gulped as he was treated to a glimpse of the inner swell of one breast just before it was decisively pushed against his ribs. He cautioned himself to never again even glance at anything lower than her shoulders. While he couldn't forgive Mickey for saying it out loud, he understood perfectly how looking at Lois in that dress had made the gangster feel. He hadn't been able to look squarely at her all the way through dinner.
"Did he see us?" Lois asked quietly, taking hold of his arm for balance as she peeked over his shoulder. Almost the entire length of her body was now pressed tightly against his, not to mention the fact that she was breathing so close to his throat that he could close his eyes and almost imagine they were necking.
"I don't think so. Is he gone?" His voice was unsteady but he was hoping she'd just put it down to him trying to be quiet and unobtrusive.
Lois nodded but didn't move away from him. Her entire body had gone on alert the moment it had come into contact with his. She wished he would put his hand on her back or do something to make it look like they were having a romantic encounter. Just one kiss - how could it hurt to sweeten the ruse with a kiss? That kiss he had given her back at the wedding chapel had been amazing... and completely for show. Yet again her imagination ran wild, wondering what it would be like to kiss him for real.
Married, the voice in her head mocked her. You're married to him now - you should be able to kiss him whenever you want. Try it - just see if he feels the same way. Except she knew that he didn't, not really. He might like her, but Clark had scarcely even looked in her direction all through dinner and that snub still stung. Here they were, standing close enough to look like lovers, and he wasn't even going to try and take advantage of the opportunity. Disappointment filtered through her - he wasn't going to do anything. Apparently he was only willing to be affectionate when he knew that Mickey was watching them. Like earlier - when he had cautioned Mickey that she was his wife. She had felt the phantom weight of his hand on her bare shoulder long after he had stopped touching her. The exposed skin of her back ached for the warmth of a hand she knew wasn't forthcoming.
"Come on." Clark stepped away from the column and the sweet temptation of her body pressed against his and headed in the direction of the swanky shops attached to the hotel. "As much as I like that dress on you, I don't think you want to wear it to Hoover Dam tomorrow."
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"So what did Perry have to say?" Lois asked as she came out of the bathroom.
Clark was sitting against the headboard of the bed with his shoes off and the television on. He looked over at her and then smiled. "Wow, it's every bridegroom's dream. Are those flannel pajamas?"
"They're not flannel, they're cotton." And they were the least sexy pajamas that she could find in the shop.
His attention shifted back to the television and he picked up the remote to change the channel. "You can rest assured that they don't make me want to ravish you five times."
A little tiny piece of her suddenly wished she had bought the silk nightie with spaghetti straps. Maybe it was only female pride, but couldn't he want to ravish her - just a little? Would it kill him to admit he was attracted to her?
"Perry said we'd better come back with a heck of a story or an incontrovertible Elvis sighting." Clark stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "Are you done in there?"
"Yeah, go ahead." Lois picked up the remote from the night stand and sat where Clark had just been sitting. She reached behind her to plump the pillow.
"Don't get too comfortable over there. I believe I get the bed this time," Clark said, "seeing as how you got the bed on our last honeymoon."
"Take the bed." She shrugged and waved at the cushy armchair near the window. "I'll sleep in the chair."
Lois waited for him to soften, to tell her that he'd do the chivalrous thing and take the chair. Or even to suggest that they could share - it was a big bed after all. Instead he picked up the bag with his newly purchased pajamas and disappeared into the bathroom.
When Clark came back out she had gone to stand at the window. He sat on the other side of the bed, the one furthest from the window, in the hopes that she really wouldn't sleep in the chair. The television was still on and he pretended to watch it, but he could only think about Lois.
Wife. She was his wife. It was both a dream come true and a waking nightmare. He stared at the television without really seeing it and wondered what she would say if he told her about Superman right now. Would she want to stay married to him if she knew the truth? Clark fought a sigh - he couldn't tell her. It was the wrong time, wrong place, wrong situation. He glanced over at her to find that she was watching him curiously.
"Weird, huh?" she asked softly.
"What is?"
"This." She spread her hands to indicate him and the room in general. "When I pictured my wedding night, this was not how I imagined it."
"Oh yeah?" Clark sat up a little straighter. "How did you imagine it?"
Lois rolled her eyes. "Well, for one thing, it wasn't going to be a shotgun wedding."
Clark grinned. "Lois, where I come from a shotgun wedding means the bride is pregnant. Do you have something you want to tell me?"
She blushed and moved away from the window. "Okay, then, what would you call it when we practically got married at gunpoint?"
"In our case?" He tipped his head back and thought about it for a few seconds. Then he shrugged and looked over at her. "I guess I'd call it a shotgun wedding."
Lois smiled at him, pleased that he had conceded the point so readily. "Do you think he knows? Mickey, I mean. Do you think he knows that we're just out here to follow him?"
Clark considered her question. "Maybe. It feels like he's messing with us, doesn’t it?"
Lois moved closer to the bed, trying to work up her courage to sit on it at the same time as him. "I just hate having to wait until tomorrow to find out why he's here and what he's up to. What if we're wrong, Clark? What if we followed him all the way here, went to all this trouble, and he's just sightseeing?"
Clark smiled at her. "Then you're going to owe me seven hundred and fifty dollars."
Lois let out a soft laugh. "And an annulment."
"Oh, I don't know." His smile widened, melting what little resolve she had left. "I sort of like being married to you."
Her knees wobbled and she plopped down on the corner of the bed. Married, her mind chanted over and over. You're married. To Clark. You're married to Clark. Just kiss him.
Clark was about to ask her to move since she was now blocking his view of the television, but the rapid beat of her heart and the stutter of her breath stopped him. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Lois shrugged. She didn't quite trust her voice and she was afraid that if she moved now she might just crawl into bed and ask him to snuggle with her.
"Come to bed," he said softly.
Lois shivered, unable to hold back a gasp at the promise those words could have held. She didn't budge from the corner of the bed, even when she heard him move and felt the mattress shift slightly. Clark moved in front of her but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor. Alone, alone, alone. She was all alone with him in this room and that realization was making her feel awkward and shy. What if he kissed her? What if she kissed him? Right now? Right here? What would he do?
"You can have the bed," he said quietly. "I'll take the chair."
She finally dared to look up and their eyes met. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest as she realized that he wasn't going to kiss her. He was just going to walk away. He was going to sleep in the chair and she would have to lie in bed all night, just a few feet away from him and listen to him breathe and wish that she had been brave enough to kiss him. Her mind raced to find a reason for him to stay right where he was. He started to turn away and she stood up and grabbed his arm to stall him.
"Wait." The word seemed to have escaped without her quite meaning to say anything.
Clark faced her again and she dropped her hand from his arm. "What is it?" he asked.
"I know this is backwards," she said, her mouth moving rapidly to drown out the shrieks of 'No! Don't!' in her mind. "And it's awkward and weird and yet, I kind of like being married. To you, I mean. Tonight, when you put Mickey in his place, it was nice. I can fight my own battles - that's not it. I just like having someone - you - to back me up."
He smiled and she felt a welling of emotion as he softly assured her, "I'll always back you up, Lois. Always."
"I know that. I guess it was having you call me your wife that made it seem so much more... authoritative, you know? I know you like me, at least a little. After all, you have asked me out, even if we never actually went on a date. And now we're married and I've never even kissed you. Not for real, I mean. It's always been because someone was threatening us in some way. Just once I'd like to kiss you without worrying about whether we're going to survive it."
Danger, his mind cautioned him. Danger! They were legally wed and all alone in a hotel room thousands of miles from home. She had never looked more beautiful or more vulnerable than she did right now in modest pajamas as her eyes anxiously searched his. He looked away, focusing on the narrow ribbon of light where the curtains weren't quite closed. There was an entire world out there - one that he usually couldn't block out. Tonight the only sounds he could hear were the frantic beat of his own heart and the nervous resonance of her breathing.
"If you don't want to, that's fine. Forget I said anything." Lois felt like an idiot. Clark liked her, she was sure of that. But he had also spent the two weeks since their almost date running out on her at the oddest times, just like he always had. The man obviously had some severe commitment issues. Her negative thoughts were scattered when his hand cupped her cheek.
"A real kiss?" he asked, just to make sure he understood her. "Are you sure?"
All the air seemed to have been squeezed out of her lungs. Before she could lose her nerve, she went on tiptoe and kissed him - just the slightest, softest brush of her lips against his. His lips parted as she was about to pull away and she found herself kissing him again, taking that full lower lip of his between hers and paying it back for all the distraction it had caused her since the words, 'You may now kiss the bride.' Her hands went to his shoulders to brace herself. The realization of just how wide and solid his shoulders were sent a shiver through her. Husband! He was her husband! She swayed closer to him, dizzy with the knowledge that she was kissing her husband.
His arms closed around her, one hand tipping her head back to rest in his palm as his mouth moved against hers again and again. His kiss was gentle and yet there was an urgency to it, an intensity that built with each pull of his mouth on hers. His arms tightened around her, holding her securely against him. Lois gave in to the tender demands of his kisses and his arms, feeling as though her entire body was melting into his. She combed her fingers into his hair and made the softest moan of pleasure.
It was her moan that was his undoing. Clark couldn't get close enough, couldn't taste her nearly enough now. He sank to the edge of the bed and she came with him. Her only response was to make that sound again as she tipped them sideways onto the bed, entangled in each other's arms. He coaxed her mouth to open further so his tongue could taste hers. She let out a throaty whimper and he rolled them so he was on top. He wanted to know - just once - how it felt to kiss her without caution or restraint.
Lois was beyond thinking. The only thing she understood anymore was sensation. Her body and her mind wanted only one thing and that was for Clark not to stop. Ever. If he stopped now she was quite certain she'd die from either desire or embarrassment. Maybe both. Her hands wandered over the muscular contours of his back. For two years she had carefully suppressed the sometimes irresistible urge to touch him. The few glimpses she had been afforded of his physique had only whet her curiosity for what really touching him would be like. Tonight it was as if Christmas had unexpectedly come early and she wasn't about to squander the opportunity. Her hands slipped beneath the hem of his t-shirt to explore the tactile pleasures of warm flesh and firm muscle that had for far too long been off-limits to her.
Clark groaned into her mouth and his kiss turned even hungrier and more insistent. His entire world consisted of nothing but the way her body fit beneath his. Her kisses were eager and her hands were stroking over his skin, deepening his need to have her. She wanted him. Right now, at this moment, she wanted him. But what was going to happen after tonight? As much as he wanted her right now; he wanted this - if it ever actually happened - to be real. And that was never going to happen if he let this go any further than it already had.
"Lois," he whispered as he broke their kiss. "Oh god, Lois, we have to stop."
She knew he was right. This was a bad idea. You should never kiss a co-worker when he's temporarily your husband. Nothing good could come of it. Lois knew that and yet she kissed him again, arching up beneath him so that he rolled obligingly and she could straddle him. Just one more kiss, she told herself as her body settled on his. Or one more minute. Yes, that was it. One more minute and they would stop.
Clark forced his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender. He had finally found his limits; found the one thing besides Kryptonite that he was powerless against. His wife. His legal, lawful, wedded wife. He had thought she felt amazing beneath him but that was nothing compared to how she felt astride him, her body pressing against his in all the right places as her mouth teased his. Clark turned his head to the side, clenching his fists to keep from touching her again.
"Please. We have to stop. I can't keep going like this." His voice was thicker than usual and her inner muscles contracted when she recognized the raw need in his tone. Lois came back to reality in a rush and scrambled off of the bed for the safety of the bathroom.
Once inside she fought to get her breathing under control as she berated herself over and over again. She shouldn't have kissed him. She shouldn't have pushed him back on the bed. Or, at the very least, she should have stopped the first time he asked her. What must he think of her now? It was beyond mortifying to consider.
From nowhere tears appeared on her cheeks and she swiped angrily at them as she tried to shake off the haze of desire that still had her pulse racing. She looked at her dazed expression in the mirror and shook her head in disgust. Of all the stupid cliches - she had locked herself, crying, in the bathroom on her wedding night. Worse still - she wasn't coming out of there until she was sure he was asleep. After several calming deep breaths she sat down on the edge of the tub and examined her cuticles.
It was a good thing her purse was already in here. She was in dire need of a manicure, she had an emery board handy, and she finally had plenty of time to give them a thorough working over.
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End 2/7
