Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Honeymoon in... Vegas (5/7)

Has it been so long you've forgotten where we left off? Story TOC

Honeymoon in... Vegas 5/7

<><><>
Early Saturday morning
<><><>

There are few things in life as depressing as a cheap motel room when you're too tired and worried to sleep. Martha looked around the threadbare room in disdain and wished they had just stayed in the hospital waiting room. This room, which was the best they could do on short notice, was grimy, small and reeked of decades of stale cigarette smoke.

A resident, Dr. Foran, had talked with them at the hospital. Dr. Foran had been there when Clark and Lois were brought in. Both of them had gunshot wounds and were also suffering from dehydration and sunstroke. Lois had been unconscious and in shock. Clark hadn't been much better off, he had been barely conscious and had asked repeatedly about how his wife was doing. Dr. Foran explained that Clark had been taken back to surgery since the bullet that had struck him had splintered and it appeared that not all of it had been retrieved in the first operation.

Jonathan and Martha had waited at the hospital until Dr. Foran reappeared to tell them that Clark had come out of surgery and it was now simply a waiting game.

Martha lay down on the bed, her shoes still on, and closed her eyes to wait.

<><><>
The previous Tuesday
<><><>

The silence stretched out between them as Lois struggled to fully comprehend the implications of her discovery. It was almost frightening how clear everything had just become. All those things about Clark - and Superman - that had been so maddeningly vague or mysterious were all perfectly understandable now. The explanation was so simple - Clark was Superman.

What wasn't clear was why he was actually hurt. What had happened? Was it Kryptonite? She had known for several months that Superman could be made vulnerable. Why was it so much worse to know that it was Clark who was hurting? It was Clark watching her with anxious eyes, his face pale and tense. Did he honestly think that she would hate him?

How did she feel? It wasn't hate. It wasn't even anger. It was disappointment. He was her friend and partner. He should have told her. It hurt that he hadn't trusted her.

<"No more lies. Ask me anything.">

His earlier offer for full disclosure had made her so uneasy and now she wondered about the true source of her apprehension. Was it because, deep down, she was afraid of the truth? Had her subconscious figured out his secret ages ago? There were so many hints she had let slide. So many lame lies that she hadn't questioned. Was it because it had been so much easier to love the fantasy than to risk her heart on reality?

How ironic was it then that she had inadvertently married the superhero she had been chasing for two years? Wasn't this just her luck? She'd had the chance to sleep with him last night and she had locked herself in the bathroom instead.

Her mind reeled, remembering every touch, every look, every smile that Clark had ever given her. She had enjoyed them simply because they came from Clark - it was odd to think that they were from Superman. Actually, it was downright strange to realize that it was Superman she stole fries from at lunch, Superman's pens that she borrowed and never returned, Superman whom she had goaded into spending fifteen hundred dollars to fly to Las Vegas. It was Superman who was slowly bleeding to death in front of her.

No - she gave herself a mental shake. It was Clark. It was Clark she was going to lose if she didn't do something to help him. It was Clark who had kissed her last night. It was Clark she hadn't been able to leave behind in the mine.

"Say something," Clark pled anxiously. She had been staring at him, her eyes darting between his face and the Suit, and the pain of waiting was becoming equal to that of the bullet buried inside him.

"How could this happen?" she finally asked, nervously pulling her hand away from the hem of his shirt.

"I don't know. I don't think it was Kryptonite. That always makes me sick. This was just..." He shrugged helplessly. "One minute I was fine and the next I wasn't."

"Was it something in the truck?"

"No. I could see outside. I could hear them talking in the cab. I had my powers until we got out of the truck. And then, all of a sudden, I couldn't fly or do anything."

Anger flickered through her. She had thought he was just wishing he could break down the door of the truck when he said he could get them out of there. Now she realized he actually could have done it. Why ask her? Why not just do it?

The expression on his face told her he was thinking the same thing. Lois looked at the hem of his shirt and saw that it was slowly turning red. "You're still bleeding." She gestured at his ribs.

"So are you," he countered.

"Yours is a lot worse. Can you, uh, can you take the Suit off? I can't really, um, see to help you with it on."

She wouldn't meet his eyes and he flushed, hating that she had learned the truth this way. "Sure," he said softly and began to pull his tie free of its knot.

Lois turned away from him, looking at the stark landscape outside as she tried not to hear the soft grunts and groans that he made as he struggled. Should she help him? No - what if he wasn't wearing anything beneath the Suit? Her cheeks grew hotter as she remembered the countless times she had daydreamed about what was under the Suit. Last night the answer had been right there beneath her questing hands.

"Okay," Clark panted, exhausted by the effort it had taken to get the Suit off. He eased back gingerly against the cool metal of the culvert, taking shallow breaths to try and lessen the constant burn of the bullet.

Lois turned to see the Suit lying in a small heap next to him. The outfit was much smaller than she thought. Then again, it was skin-tight on him. Clark was shirtless now, his chest smeared with blood and dirt. She scrubbed her palms furiously on the knees of her jeans, hoping that she wasn't just making them dirtier. Then she tentatively put her hand on his chest. He winced and she pulled her hand away.

What should she do? Take the bullet out? And how was she supposed to do that? What if it was slowing the flow? Direct pressure - that was how you stopped bleeding. Lois grabbed his shirt, folded it over a couple of times and placed it over the wound. She pressed her hands, one of top of the other, against his chest and he made a small moan.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"S'okay," he whispered back and closed his eyes against the pain. His entire body ached. He could feel his pulse pounding through his veins. He could almost hear it thumping in his ears. Then he realized that it wasn't his heartbeat - the muted rhythmic thud was coming closer and closer. He opened his eyes as fear seemed to turn everything cold. "Helicopter."

Lois had recognized the sound only a second or two before Clark spoke. "It's not a rescue, is it? They're the only ones who know we're out here. Did we leave footprints?"

"I don't know."

They crawled deeper into the pipe until they were at its center. It was cooler and darker there, rendering them both a little blind temporarily. The noise of the helicopter was becoming overwhelming. Dust swirled outside and Lois was relieved that any footprints that might have been around were surely gone now. Clark told himself that Mickey didn't know where they were. They were simply flying low and slow along the road in the hopes of spotting them. The helicopter moved on, in the direction of the ghost town.

Once the sound of the helicopter had become faint again Lois softly said, "We should just stay here until we're sure they're gone."

"It's probably better to wait out the heat of the day in here and travel at night," Clark added. He shifted uncomfortably, his foot kicking at a small rock that rolled away and then made a soft 'plop'. Clark sat up rapidly, hoping against hope that the sound was what he thought it was. His fingers groped through the darkness and then found a very small puddle.

"Lois," he whispered. "There's water in here."

Lois moved closer to him. "Where?"

They scooped it in their hands, licking the drops from their fingers. The water tasted awful and left grit in their mouths. There wasn't more than a couple of swallows for either of them and it was almost worse to have been teased with a scant amount of liquid than to have had none at all.

Over the long, hot day the helicopter passed over them several more times. Even in the shade, the heat felt oppressive. Their muscles began to cramp from the tension, the inactivity and their bodies need for water. The light outside grew fainter as the silence around them turned ominous. Was the helicopter coming back? Had they given up the search?

Lois was absolutely miserable. Her shoulder and ribs ached. She refused to think about how it was harder to breathe now than it had been this morning. Her thirst was terrible. She watched Clark's shadowy figure apprehensively. Was he still bleeding? How bad off was he? Did they dare to leave their hiding place? Did she even dare to talk to him? What do you say to your best friend when you find out their deepest, darkest secret?

Clark had tried for hours to do something super but there was nothing there. At this point he would gladly trade his powers forever if he could have just had them back for another ten minutes. His mind went over and over the chain of events and he loathed himself for allowing Lois to get hurt. There were so many things he could have, should have, would have done differently. He could have freed them from the back of the truck. Truthfully, if he had known that Mickey was out in the hall, he would have just flown her out the window of the hotel and dealt with the consequences later.

Anything would have been preferable to this, hiding in a culvert beneath the road as he could almost hear the time they had left ticking away.

"It's getting dark now," Lois ventured quietly. "What do you want to do?"

Clark weighed their options. It was safe under the road, but it wasn't getting them any closer to help. He shouldn't have spent the day hiding in the shadows. The lack of sunlight had left him feeling weaker and weaker as the day wore on. He knew that the continued loss of sunlight might prove to be fatal for him. But if he stayed in the sun, he could be spotted. And that would mean endangering Lois. It had been a couple of hours since they had last heard the helicopter - maybe Mickey was giving up the search? At least for tonight?

"We should start walking," Clark answered softly. "We'll hike as far as we can. Maybe we can find another culvert to hide in if we don't reach a town before daylight."

<><><>
Tuesday night
<><><>

It was harder going than either of them had expected. Not only were they both in pain and weak, but the night was dark and the crescent moon provided very little light. They shuffled forward slowly, feeling their way carefully. The road turned steeper, winding back and forth as it climbed a hill. The incline was costing them both and the effort to climb it seemed excruciating. It wasn't until his toes slid forward and found nothing that Clark realized there was a drop at the side of the road. It was impossible to tell how far the drop was or how sheer. Clark let out a frustrated sigh. They were going to do Mickey a favor and kill themselves before morning ever reached them.

He put his arm out to stop Lois. "Wait," he cautioned. "I think there's an edge here. Let's walk on the other side of the road."

Lois took a several steps to the side, her feet scraping along the ground as she felt her way. "Now what?" she asked. She wanted nothing more than to find someplace to sit down or, even better, lie down. Even sleeping in the bathtub back at the Palace would have been heaven right about now.

"I don't know," Clark answered. His injured leg was starting to shake. It had been aching the entire time they were walking and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stay on it. "What if we wait out the rest of the night here and move on as soon as it starts to get light?"

They both thought about the dangers if Mickey and his gang decided to come back. Neither one of them wanted to speak those thoughts aloud.

"Okay," Lois agreed and sat down against one of the large boulders just off the side of the road.

Clark sat down a few feet away and they both shifted uneasily as they tried to find a comfortable position to get some rest.

<><><>
Early Wednesday morning
<><><>

Sleep was impossible. The air, which had been so hot during the day, was far too cool now that they weren't moving. The desert wasn't quiet - the night was filled with insect noise and the low distant rumble of thunder. For a while Clark had hoped that it was going to rain on them but the sound was moving in the wrong direction. There was another sound, a soft rustle that was almost like trees but he then realized it was probably the breeze through the Joshua trees and sage that were scattered around them.

"I left your jacket at the mine," Lois said ruefully. It hurt too much to try and hug herself for warmth and she was exhausted from the pain.

"I'll just run back and get it for you," he answered.

She left out a soft snort. "Thanks. I'll wait here."

They listened to the breeze for a few minutes and then Lois said, "Hey, Clark? Those big round cactuses?"

"Cacti," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes and kept talking. "Couldn't we break one open with a rock and get water?"

"No." He shifted, stretching his injured leg out in front of him carefully.

"No? Oh, come on. Why not?"

"Lois, those are barrel cactus. It's a myth that they're filled with water. They actually contain an alkali slime that would kill us faster. We'd get diarrhea, which would dehydrate us even more. Plus it would drop our core temperature and then we'd get hypothermia."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing everything?"

"I don't know everything," he said, unsure just how rude she had meant that to sound. He supposed he should take comfort in the fact that she was treating him like Clark and not Superman. It didn't mean that he couldn't miss the hero worship just a little though. "I just read a lot and remember pretty much everything I read."

Lois sighed again and shivered. "Well, at least I was right about one thing. We're going to freeze to death in the desert."

Clark worked the cape free of his Suit and wished he had thought of the idea sooner. He draped the cape over her knees. "Take this."

"What about you?"

"I'm fine," he lied.

"I can hear your teeth chattering. We should share."

"All right." Clark had been hoping she would suggest it. She might be upset with him, but shared body heat was one way to ensure that she lived to make his life miserable later. He moved closer to her and pulled a corner of the cape across his lap.

"This isn't going to work," Lois said in frustration as his movements pulled the cape away from her. "Can we lie down? Or would that hurt too much for you?"

"No, that's fine."

It took well over ten minutes, but eventually they were settled on their backs with Lois on the left so that they didn't accidentally bump each other's injuries. The ground was hard, but they were so tired it hardly mattered anymore.

Lois stared at the vast blanket of stars above them and wondered which was his. It was staggering to realize that Clark wasn't from here. He had come from out there. Her partner was an alien. She'd always thought of aliens as little green men. They weren't supposed to have broad shoulders and smile that could stop you in your tracks. Aliens were supposed to have cold, dead eyes and scaly skin. Clark was the absolute opposite of everything she had considered "alien".

Then again, so was Superman. She thought back on all the interviews she had done with Superman. He had told her about Krypton, about its destruction and she had been sad for him. Sad that he had been alone his whole life. Only he hadn't really been alone, had he? He had been raised in Kansas, by two wonderful people who had the childhood pictures of him to prove it. So when had he come here?

"Can I ask you a question?" she ventured.

"Yes." Clark cringed and waited. Maybe she had decided to start early with the accusations on the off-chance that he didn't survive this?

"How old were you when you came here?"

He blinked in surprise. "About a year old."

"How did it happen? Did your parents on Krypton know who they were sending you to? Had they worked something out?"

"No, not really. They knew I would land in Kansas, but they were just relying on luck for the rest of it. My mom and dad, the Kents, they found me. They couldn't have children of their own."

"So was that your ship? That one we found in the Bureau 39 warehouse?"

"Yes."

She fell silent and they both contemplated the stars above them. Then Lois said quietly, "You must hate me."

Clark was shocked at the thought and he turned his head, wishing he could see her better. "What? Lois, why would I hate you?"

"I was such a brat. Worshipping Superman and snubbing you. Does it help that I've been nicer lately? I mean, I wanted to date you. And I've always respected you."

He let out a short laugh even though it hurt to do so. "Liar. You hated me at first."

"I didn't hate you," she said defensively.

"You disliked me."

"You were so squeaky clean - it made me suspicious. And you were irritating. You acted so naïve and yet you stole my stories and you were mean to me."

"Mean? I was never mean to you! And what stories did I steal? You were the one who stole my stories."

"I might have stolen one little story from you. But you took several of mine. The one about the theater. And the space shuttle? The Toasters? And what about the time you..."

"Okay," he cut in. "But I was never mean to you."

"The sewage reclamation plant? How about telling the entire newsroom that I was dancing in a chicken costume? Throwing in me in that disgusting dumpster? And..."

"You win," he sighed. "I was terrible to you."

Lois was silent for several seconds and then she sighed. "We both were. We were both awful to each other, just in different ways."

"Will you forgive me?" he asked.

He sounded so sad and she realized that he still thought she was upset over finding out he was Superman. For a moment it was tempting to tease him and tell him that he was going to owe her. Only she owed him, didn't she? How many times had he saved her life? Even now, he was being nice about the fact that she had been so blind and stupid for far too long.

"I guess I'd better," she answered. "Don't they say that you shouldn't go to bed angry at each other?"

Clark smiled. "Yes, they do."

A few minutes of silence passed as she watched the stars and then she said, "I'm not angry, Clark. In fact, I kind of have to admire you for being able to hide it for so long. Please tell me it wasn't easy to do."

"It wasn't." He shifted uncomfortably and the movement caused her to suck in an unsteady breath when he jostled her. "Sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you, not now, and certainly not when I started this charade. I wanted to help people, but I wanted a normal life, too."

"Is it so bad, being adored by the whole world?"

"Not everyone adores me."

"I did."

He felt a pang at her use of the past tense. "I know you did."

She heard the longing in his voice and added, "I still do, you know. Actually, it's somehow more heroic to know that Superman is a regular guy than this flawless god who flies around in tights."

"Flawless?"

She rolled her eyes, hearing the smile in his tone. "Well, he did have a few flaws, but those were mostly due to his inability to commit to me."

His hand reached over and found hers. "He was committed to you, Lois. He just didn't know how to tell you."

Her throat seemed to have suddenly closed off so she squeezed his fingers as she croaked out, "Thanks."

He stroked his thumb over hers. "For what it's worth, I always adored you right back."

She made a snuffling noise and moved her head so that it was just barely touching his shoulder before she closed her eyes. "G'night, Clark."

"Good night," he answered softly and gave her fingers another squeeze.

<><><>
Wednesday morning
<><><>

Clark blinked, unable to make sense of the world. He was cold. His entire body ached and it felt like his lungs were on fire. He went to push himself up on one elbow but immediately changed his mind. Just tensing to move hurt and he was afraid of how actually moving might feel. For the briefest of moments he gave in to despair - they were never going to make it out of here alive. They had no water, no food and they were both growing weaker by the hour. His gaze searched the bleak landscape around him and then caught on a patch of green about fifty yards away on the other side of the road.

Trees? He squinted at the green and realized with a growing sense of excitement that the green was a small group of about five or six cottonwood trees. He sat up in a hurry, ignoring his body's protests and shook Lois' good shoulder gently.

"Lois, wake up." Her eyes blinked open and stared at him in confusion. He grinned at her and pointed across the road towards the trees. "Those are cottonwood trees."

Lois pulled the cape tighter around her and closed her eyes again. "Good idea," she mumbled. Her lips felt cracked and dry and her voice was hoarse from lack of water. "We can use them for shade when it gets hot later."

"City girl, you don't get it. Cottonwood trees grow along the sides of rivers and streams."

"There's water nearby?" Lois tried to sit up, but had to settle for propping herself on her good arm.

"Most likely. Why don't you stay here and I'll go check it out?"

Clark rose painfully to his feet and limped across the road. The edge that had seemed so unknown and terrifying to him last night was nothing more than a gentle slope that gradually dropped about four feet into a dry creek bed that ran into and then parallel with the road. He worked his way along the creek to the trees. The ground beneath them looked damp. Rocks and pebbles were strewn about, defining where the water flowed - if there had been any. His eyes followed the stream bed past the trees to where it disappeared into a narrow slot canyon.

He glanced behind him and found Lois watching him anxiously. He pointed towards the canyon and shouted, "I'm going to check in there." She waved and he moved forward.

The canyon was about six feet wide, but loomed high above him. At the very least, it would be a good place to wait out the heat of the day, and it was possible that the eroded curve of the canyon's walls might block them from view if the helicopter came back. Clark walked further into the fissure, his footsteps crunching with a loud echo on the gravel underneath. Occasionally there was a tiny shimmer of water, but nothing that was going to sustain them.

He had gone about fifty feet in when he found a seep on the canyon wall. It was only a small trickle of water about one foot above the ground. Delicate plants were growing in the crack above where the water was dripping. A small pool had collected beneath it. He dropped to his knees and put his lips to the rock, gratefully taking in several swallows of water.

Then he rose to his feet and walked swiftly, ignoring the pain in his leg and lungs as he hurried to get Lois.

<><><>

"Drink slow," he cautioned her. "If you drink fast it's going to make you throw up and you'll be even worse off."

She shot him a look but followed his advice. They took turns getting a drink until their thirst was slaked and then they both leaned against the canyon wall and let out sighs. Lois' gaze fell on his injured leg.

"You should let me check that for you." She waved at his leg. "We have water now. We should probably try to clean ourselves up a little."

"Yeah," he said cautiously.

"You first this time."

Clark wavered for a moment, not entirely sure about why he felt so shy. Then he slowly stood up and unbuttoned his shirt. Lois glanced away, watching the reflection of the sky above them in the tiny pool of water.

Clark stripped down to his boxers and then leaned against the canyon wall opposite Lois. He flinched at how cold the stone was. He felt drained from the effort that just getting undressed. He wasn't getting any stronger - he would have to try lying in the sun today.

"Clark," Lois said, her voice pitched higher in anxiety. "I had no idea it was this bad!"

She picked up his shirt from where he had left it and dipped the corner of it in the pool of water. Then she stood up and dabbed at the angry-looking wound beneath his ribs. He let out a moan and tipped his head back against the rock.

"Sorry," she whispered. "But we need to try and clean this. It looks awful. I think it's getting infected."

He grit his teeth as she gently wiped away the layers of blood and dirt. "No, don't apologize. It's fine. In fact, I've been thinking about how this happened and I'm wondering if the dirt is part of the problem."

"How's that?" She glanced up at his face, puzzled.

"I was fine." Clark was panting between words, his body in agony as he tried to think and speak. "Inside the truck, I was fine. It was when we jumped out, it was dusty, and it made me sneeze."

"Okay," she said to humor him. "It was dusty."

"I rarely sneeze. But there must have been something in the dust, something I breathed in because it was only a few seconds later that they kicked me and I was without any powers at all."

"But it wasn't Kryptonite dust?"

"I don't think so. That's always so painful, this was just... nothing. I sneezed and everything was gone."

"You're still bleeding," she said. "Maybe we should tie your shirt around your ribs? Or your tie?"

"What could have been in the dust? We were at a mine, what kind of mine was it?" he mused aloud.

"I don't know. You're the expert who remembers everything he reads. Are you telling me that you've never studied the mines of the Southwest?" She picked up his tie and looked at it with a frown. That just wasn't going to work.

"Are you mocking me for knowing stuff? How are you going to sleep with me tonight if you're picking fights with me now?"

Lois looked up at him, her mind still swimming with the words 'sleep with me tonight'. "I wasn't picking a fight with you. I was just..." She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Your turn," he told her.

Lois swallowed in nervousness. She was going to have to take her shirt off in front of him again. He wasn't going to ogle, she knew that. Actually, maybe that was part of the problem. Why couldn't he want to ogle her, just a little? She lifted the hem of her shirt, letting out a hiss of pain as her left arm refused to go any higher than a few inches. Lois pulled her right arm out of the sleeve and then tried to pull it off sideways but it was impossible to do with just one arm.

"Damn it," she swore softly and averted her eyes, embarrassed. "Can you help me?"

"Okay." He gently helped her to free her shirt from her left arm. "I promise I won't look anywhere I shouldn't."

She grimaced. Of course he wouldn't, the big boy scout. Then she sucked in a breath as he carefully dabbed at her shoulder with the wet hem of his shirt. His expression turned grim and it sent a frisson of worry through her.

"How's it look?" she gasped. She looked down but couldn't really tell what was so worrisome to him.

"It looks like it hurt." Actually it appeared swollen and streaks of red were extending from the exit wound. Clark frowned as he realized that meant an infection was setting in. At least it had scabbed over and was no longer bleeding.

"It's not so bad. It just throbs more than anything," Lois said anxiously.

"What about your ribs?" Clark quickly looked past her bra to focus on the bruises that looked even more horrific to him than they had before. They were a deep, ugly purple color now. He hated to think about how hard Tony must have struck her. "Does it still hurt to breathe?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Would it help if we put something cold on them? Or wrapped them?"

"With what? We don't have a compress or a bandage."

"We could use the Suit."

Lois almost laughed. "You're suggesting I should wear the Suit? Now there's something I hadn't thought of before."

"Not wear it, necessarily. Although I think you'd look amazing in the cape."

"Just the cape?"

He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling and she knew that she'd been had.

"Hmm, maybe," she said breezily. "Later on I'm going to wear nothing but the cape and see if you're right."

Clark flushed and looked away and she fought a smile. Then he turned and picked up the Suit, turning it over in his hands as he appeared to look for something. She let out a gasp when he grasped one of the legs and pulled, tearing it away with a loud ripping sound.

He dropped the Suit and held the leg out in front of him and nodded. Then he turned and knelt next to the small puddle of water, soaking the leg in it. He glanced over his shoulder to see her watching him, her expression bewildered. "It was already ruined," he said by way of explanation and then stood up with the soaking wet leg. "Can you raise your arms for me?"

Lois did so, wincing as she was barely able to lift her left arm. Clark reached behind her and she jumped as the cold, wet fabric touched her back. He pulled it forward, laying it carefully over her ribs and then pulling it tight. He moved behind her and tied the leg in place.

"Too tight?" he asked.

Lois shook her head. The firm support of the cloth actually was better. The cold she could have done without but she knew he was trying to decrease the swelling. Deeply exhausted, she took a step back to lean against the rock. Only Clark was still there and it threw her off-balance when she bumped into him. She staggered to the side but he caught her, pulling and turning her at the same time until she was safe against him. Lois closed her eyes and sagged gratefully against the warmth of him, forgetting for a moment that he was shirtless and she was wearing nothing on top but a lacy black bra and one of Superman's pant legs.

After a few seconds it occurred to her that she was wearing only those items and she pushed away from him to pick up her shirt.

"Sorry," she told him. "I, uh, I guess I should get dressed now."

Clark's cheeks grew heated. "I wasn't trying to..."

"I know," she cut in. "Neither was I."

Lois pulled her shirt on again, struggling as she tried to get her left arm through the sleeve. She felt the tug as Clark helped her and she was divided between gratitude and mortification.

Her shirt back on, Lois sank to the ground and leaned back against the canyon's wall. It seemed like the canyon's shadows were getting colder. "Hey, Clark, is there any chance at all that you'd let me have the cape for a while?"

"Are you cold?" he asked as worry flickered through him. Then he told himself not to worry. It was cool in the canyon. She wasn't feverish, it was the shade.

"Yeah, a little."

"Me, too," he said, even though he really wasn't all that cold anymore. He gave her the cape and then sat down on her right side. "We'll rest here today," he said and she nodded. "We'll get hydrated and then we can finish walking out of here tonight. I think if I can lay in the sunshine today, it might help. I get my strength from the sun and it did seem to help yesterday. I could barely breathe when we left the mine, but I felt a lot better after a few hours in the sun."

Lois cracked open one eye to peek at him. "So your plan to save us includes spending the day sunbathing?"

"Do you have a better plan?" he teased.

She grinned and shook her head slowly from side to side. "Hey, I'm just here for the pampering. It's like a spa, only sandier."

"Hard to believe people pay good money for this, isn't it?"

He put his arm around her and she laid her cheek against his chest. Clark closed his eyes, tipping his chin to rest against the crown of her head. His fingers smoothed her hair back, absent-mindedly repeating the action over and over, the soft repetition soothing both of them.

<><><>

End 5/7

Why don't they just pull out their cell phones and call for help? For one, they didn't really use cell phones in the series until the third season. For another, even if they did have one I can assure you from experience that you get NO reception out in the Mojave Desert. So I just skipped that detail. I had them talking about it but it got axed.

So where are they? I brought slides to illustrate!

The desert:


The canyon: