If you're coming late to the party, you can catch up
here. Honeymoon in... Vegas 7/7
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Saturday morning
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Clark's eyes opened. His entire body felt heavy and slow and yet he couldn't shake a sense of urgency. His eyes closed as he remembered staggering along a dusty road with an unresponsive Lois over his shoulder. He tried to struggle to a sitting position but his body was uncooperative.
A familiar hand touched his shoulder and he heard his dad say, "Take it easy, son."
Feeling dizzy and a little bit nauseated, Clark tried again to sit up and managed to succeed this time. "Lois?"
"She's in the next room. But she's not awake yet."
Clark blinked and the room came into sharp focus. He remembered it now - seeing the dust rising on the road as a truck came closer and closer. He remembered his last desperate actions to hide Lois from view before the truck reached them. There had been a long ride to the hospital and then a confusing flurry of activity. They had taken her away from him, assuring him that he could see her later. How much later was it now? He swung his legs over the side of the bed and winced at how much that hurt to do.
"Clark!" His dad stood up, offering an arm for support which Clark grasped at thankfully. "Just stay here, son. I'll go check on her."
"I can't," Clark said with a grimace. "I promised I wouldn't leave her. I can't let her wake up alone."
"Mom is in there with her."
"I still have to see her." Clark leaned heavily against his dad, taking small steps as he worked his way closer to her room. His dad dragged Clark's IV pole along with them. Once they got into the hall, Jonathan gestured to the room that was their goal. Clark seemed to find his legs again and began moving more purposefully. The door was partially open and Clark took the IV pole from Jonathan so he could enter unaided.
"Clark!" Martha stood up to give him the chair closest to the bed. "Come sit down before you fall down."
Clark sank gratefully into the chair and reached out to take Lois' hand in his. "She hasn't been awake at all?" he asked.
"Not yet," Martha answered as she patted Clark's shoulder to reassure herself that he really was okay. "But the doctor was in here earlier and he said that she is stable." Martha didn't add that the doctor had also said if Lois didn't wake up soon, he was worried about what that might mean for her mental condition. There was simply no way to accurately gauge how the heatstroke and fever had affected her brain until she woke up.
Clark lifted her hand and kissed it softly. "Lois, can you hear me?"
There was no response. Her hand remained slack in his and her eyelids didn't flicker. He looked at her face, taking in the dark bruises on her cheek. Her hair was lank on the pillow, her complexion pale beneath the bruises. That his own body was still throbbing in pain only deepened the horror he felt for everything she had suffered.
"Please come back to me." His leaned closer to her and added, "You still owe me a date. And a kiss."
<><><>
They all passed the afternoon in Lois' room. Clark watched her sleep and let his mind drift through memories of her. He cataloged every word, every glance, every touch that had passed between them going all the way back to when he had first met her.
His memory caught and held on the night he had helped her piece together Dr. Platt's research. They had stayed late at the Planet and he had brought them Chinese food. It was the first time Lois had ever relaxed around him, the first time he had seen a glimpse of the warmth she tried so hard to hide from everyone. Their eyes had met and, in an instant, he had gone from simply interested to smitten. At the time he would have sworn by the way her eyes darkened that she had felt the same way - or at least recognized the heat between them. As time went on he started to believe that maybe he had dreamed it. Only now was he certain that she actually had felt it too - and had pushed him away for her own mental safety. Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids, tracking something only Lois could see and Clark wondered if she remembered that moment at all.
"I told her she could leave me," Clark said quietly. His parents both looked up from the magazines they were reading. "I thought we were as good as dead and I told her she didn't have to keep her promise to stay with me anymore. It was only a few minutes later that I saw dust rising on the road. It was a long way off, but it was coming towards us. I didn't know if it was the guys who were after us or not. So I hid Lois away from the road and waited for them to get closer."
"It wasn't them," Jonathan guessed.
Clark put his hands over his face and shook his head as he relived the fear and exhaustion of those long minutes. He had been terrified for Lois and had vowed that, if it was Mickey, he would tell him Lois had already died. The thought of Mickey or his men hurting her further had made him frantic with worry.
"It wasn't them," he finally said softly. "It was two brothers on their way to ride motorcycles in the desert. They helped me get Lois in the truck and then one of them rode in the back with the bikes all the way here." Clark picked at some lint on the blanket covering Lois. "But I'd already told her that she didn't have to stay. Do you think she heard me? Do you think she knows that I gave up?"
"You didn't give up," Martha said quietly. "If you had given up, you wouldn't have tried to protect her one last time."
"I wished for something terrible." Clark closed his eyes, awash in guilt. "I wanted her to be dead."
"You didn't want her to suffer," Jonathan corrected.
Clark shook his head silently, uncertain that he could tell his parents the truth. The sickening boasts that Randy had made about what he wanted to do to Lois had replayed in Clark's mind. He had been desperate to save her from that fate. For a few horrifying seconds he had wished he'd had the strength to--. He shuddered, unable to even admit to himself what he had wished for.
"Tell us about the wedding," Martha prompted. "Are you really married?"
Clark's fingers stroked along Lois' arm and his face relaxed. "We're really married." His lips twitched into a smile. "It wasn't planned, and it was at gunpoint, but it was a mostly valid marriage."
"At gunpoint?" Jonathan cleared his throat. "You were forced to get married?"
"It was her idea, actually. We had followed this gangster out here but when he caught us she told him we were eloping. He insisted on our getting married right then and there. If... once she wakes up, I'm sure she'll want it annulled. That was our understanding."
"And does she know? About..." Martha let her words trail away significantly.
Clark nodded. "She knows. After we had been shot and we were hiding in a culvert, she tried to check on my wounds and I had the Suit on underneath my clothes." He grimaced. "It was definitely not how I wanted her to find out."
"What did she say?" Jonathan glanced over at Martha. She grinned and shook her head. He had twenty dollars riding on 'not angry' while Martha had always insisted Lois would overreact and then come to her senses later.
Clark's forehead furrowed as he remembered her reaction. "Nothing. She didn't say anything for such a long time I finally had to ask her say something. And then she was just..." His eyes closed as he realized how generous she had been - never once had she been accusatory. He looked at Lois, lying so still and pale, and his heart felt even heavier. "She looked so hurt and angry but she never said a thing. She took care of me."
"So she was okay with it?" Martha asked.
"She was pretty quiet at first but by the next day she was joking with me about being Supe--, uh, about it."
"No hero worship?" Martha teased.
"None," Clark affirmed.
"Then you'd better hang on to her, son." His mom gave him a wink.
Clark laced his fingers with Lois'. "If it were only up to me, sure. But it's her decision, too."
<><><>
It was late in the day when Lois seemed to become more restless. She murmured occasionally, low incomprehensible words that caused him to lean closer in the hopes she was waking up. Clark was reaching to smooth the hair back from her face when his IV popped out. He watched in disbelief as the puncture wound from the needle healed in an instant.
"Be right back," he whispered to Lois before he hurried into the small bathroom in her room. Once inside he locked the door and lifted the hem of his hospital gown. The ugly bullet wound on his abdomen had vanished completely. "Uh oh," Clark said under his breath.
What should he do? There was no way he could let the doctors examine him again.
His hearing picked up the soft, familiar footfalls of his parents as they approached Lois' room. He waited until they had entered the room and then Clark opened the bathroom door a crack and urgently whispered, "Mom!"
Martha looked around to find the source of the voice. The bathroom door opened a little wider and she found herself face to face with Clark. He looked panicked and it only took her a few seconds to understand why. His face was no longer puffy and bruised.
"Jonathan, go get Clark some clothes. He's going home now."
"But, mom, I can't..." Clark protested from the bathroom.
"Well, you can't stay here. We'll call you the moment she wakes up."
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Saturday night
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Clark was dying - bleeding to death in front of her. Lois felt as if she were underwater, all of her movements were slow and ineffective as she ripped open his shirt to stop the flow of blood. He writhed in pain and his terrified eyes silently pled for her to help him. She couldn't make her body cooperate, couldn't seem to find where all the blood was coming from. As she frantically tried to save him his eyes became distant and his body went limp.
"Clark!" She tried to scream his name but he was shrinking, disappearing before her eyes.
She twitched as though she had been shocked and stared without comprehension at a stainless steel sink.
Lois blinked but the sink was still there. Next to the sink there was a white dry-erase board. The words "Your Nurse Is" were written in black and following them, after what looked like several edits, was the name "Rhonda" in green. Below that was written "Room 314" and a date that was later in the month than she could remember it being.
She had a nurse? Was she in a hospital room? What had happened?
The dream of Clark dying was still bouncing around inside her head and she realized with horror that it wasn't entirely a dream. He really had been hurt - really had laid in front of her and bled. Only in real life he had been... Superman?
Oh god - he was Superman. Lois remembered being wrapped in the cape and tossing rocks at a narrow ledge as Clark teased her that he had only married her for her body. The memories flooded back and she tried to wrap her mind around what it seemed she had already come to terms with. Clark was Superman. And somewhere out in the desert she had not only accepted that, but she had realized that she couldn't live without him. Not because of Superman, but because he was Clark.
So where was he? Had he made it? Was he in the hospital too? She weakly tried to push herself upright.
Almost instantly she felt a gentle hand on hers and a familiar and soothing voice said, "Lois?"
She must still be dreaming, only now it was Clark's mom that was in front of her. Martha's face was creased in a relieved smile and she was talking to her.
"Honey, can you hear me?"
Lois nodded, even more confused as she realized that it wasn't a dream. Clark's mom was really there with her. Was she in Kansas or Nevada?
"What can I get for you?" Martha asked.
"Clark." The name stuck in her throat but Martha seemed to understand her.
"He's fine, but he's not here right now."
"What day is it?" Lois asked.
"It's Saturday. You've been here since Thursday night."
"Thursday," Lois echoed and tried to remember what day she had last been awake. Was it Thursday? They got married on Monday - didn't they? It was Tuesday morning when Tony shot them. Wednesday when they found water. And Thursday? Lois tried hard to remember but there simply wasn't a Thursday. She could remember plunking rocks onto the ledge and talking to Clark but nothing beyond being cold and having him hold her. No, there was a hazy memory of him refusing to leave her in the canyon. Clark had lifted her onto his shoulder and then-- her mind went blank. Had that been Thursday? Had he carried her all the way to safety? Was that how she got here? But where was he? Why wasn't he here now?
"Where's Clark?" she asked, watching Martha anxiously. "What happened to him?"
"Clark had two operations to remove the bullet and its fragments. After those were taken out he got better. He got better fast." Martha tilted her head, her eyes twinkling a little as she emphasized the word 'fast'. "So fast, actually, that he had to go AWOL before anyone could wonder why he was so dramatically better."
"He's better?" Lois whispered, suddenly worried that she was only dreaming again. "All better?"
"He's super," Martha reassured her.
Her lips were cracked and dry and it hurt to smile but Lois grinned anyway. "Super," she repeated. Their eyes met and both women grew a little teary at the unspoken secret now shared between them.
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Sunday morning
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Now that she was awake and alert, a physical therapist came to get Lois up and moving. With her bruised ribs there was a danger of pneumonia if she were to just lie in bed. She was walking slowly along the back hallway when they heard loud chattering in the main corridor. One of the nurses came around the corner, her face flushed with excitement.
"You have a visitor," she told Lois.
Superman stepped around the corner and Lois thought for a moment that her heart had stopped. There was the Suit, not torn and blood-stained. The cape billowed out behind him as he walked towards her. He looked perfect - not a hair out of place, no sign of bruising, no way to tell that only two days before he had been near death. She could see why he'd had to leave the hospital in a hurry.
Acutely conscious that they had an audience and thrilled beyond words to see him, she could only manage a breathless, "Hi."
"Hi," he answered with a smile that weakened her knees even more. "How are you feeling?" he asked, drawing close enough to take her arm and put his other hand at the small of her back for support as he led her slowly back towards her room.
"Much better," she said. "They're talking about letting me out of here tomorrow."
"That's great."
She put her arm through his in lieu of a hug. "Thanks for coming to visit me."
He ducked to softly speak near her ear. "I had to see you."
"Same," she murmured, so low that only he could hear it. The hand on her back hand moved to span her uninjured ribs. It was a gesture that must have looked supportive to everyone else. To Lois the gentle pressure of his touch was so intimate that her eyes briefly fluttered closed. The cape brushed against her bare calves and she wanted to cry in frustration that she couldn't turn and wrap her arms around him and tell everyone there that he was her best friend. And husband. Well, technically her husband.
They left the door open to her room when they came inside - neither of them wanted to pull the door shut and set off a flurry of gossip. Clark helped her back into bed and pulled the covers up over her legs. Then he stood there as if he was uncertain what he should do next. He sighed and sat in the chair next to the bed, wishing that he could sit on the edge of the mattress with her or at least hold her hand.
"I came to see you, when I first woke up yesterday," he said softly. "But then I got better so fast, I couldn't stay. I'm so sorry. I meant to be here."
She answered just as quietly. "It's okay. I'm just glad to see you back to normal. Have you figured out how it happened?"
"Remember that sample of Kryptonite that Jason Trask had analyzed? Kryptonite is composed of sodium lithium boron silicate hydroxide."
Lois shook her head. "And that's what was at the mine? But you said it didn't make you sick. If it was Kryptonite, shouldn't it have done that?"
"If it was Kryptonite, it would have. They took us to a borax mine and the dust I breathed in was full of boron silicate with traces of sodium lithium. It just lacked one thing - the radiation stored in it from Krypton's red sun. So it didn't make me sick, but it took away my powers just the same."
"If I were you, I wouldn't go flying into any borax mines in the future."
He grinned and shook his head. "No, I wasn't planning on it."
Her eyes darted to the open door and the people pretending not to watch them from the nurse's station.
"Clark," she whispered, turning her head away so that no one could read her lips.
"Yes?"
She smiled. "Nothing. I just wanted to call you that when you were in the Suit. I mean, I know it's you, but it's still kind of hard to..." She waved her hand, searching for the words. "I just wanted to make it official, I guess. Call you Clark and see if you answered."
"You can call me whatever you like and I promise I'll answer."
'Husband', she thought. Let me call you that. Or 'sweetheart' or 'darling'. An entire list of sickeningly sweet names went through her mind and yet none of them seemed so saccharine if she was referring to him. What had happened to her? Maybe it was just the residual effects of sunstroke because there was no other excuse for it. She wanted to call him 'sweetheart' and have him answer.
She cleared her throat softly. "I, uh, I'd ask you to fly me home tomorrow, but I'm not sure I'm allowed that much excitement yet."
"No, probably not. But as soon as you're up to it, I'd love to take you flying."
Her heart sped up at the thought of flying, not in Superman's arms, but Clark's. God, that would be so weirdly amazing. "You're on," she told him.
When he smiled, his entire face seemed to relax and Lois realized that she had never seen Superman so at ease before. It was the end of an era, she thought. He wasn't hiding from her anymore. Just as quickly she remembered that he should still maintain the ruse for everyone else. "You should probably leave soon," she said regretfully. "Although I wish you could stay longer."
In an instant his face had returned to the distant but friendly mask of Superman. He reluctantly stood up, letting his fingers brush over her wrist as he did so. "Call and let me know when you're coming home, okay? I'll come to the airport to meet you."
Lois gave a regretful nod. "That would be nice."
Clark started to go to the door, hesitated and then turned to look at her again. "Honey?" he asked softly.
"Yes?" she answered automatically.
He grinned. "Nothing. I just wanted to call you that and see if you answered."
<><><>
Monday afternoon
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"Hi, this is Clark Kent. I'm sorry I'm not here to take your call. Please leave a message and I'll call you back."
Lois closed her eyes, disappointed that she wasn't going to be able to talk to him in person.
"Hi, Clark. It's me, uh, Lois."
You know -- your wife, her mind added.
"I'm at the airport and you told me to call and let you know what time my flight gets in. Well, I should be there around 10:30 tonight, Metropolis time. I, uh, I know you might have something more pressing going on, so it's okay if you don't come. I mean, I understand that you're, well, you know. You don't have to come up with an excuse anymore. So, uh, so if I don't see you, I'll just give you a call tomorrow morning. Okay?"
She hung up the phone and then thunked her forehead against the side of the phone booth. "Idiot," she whispered to herself. "You didn't even tell him the most important part." She dialed the phone again, pressing the receiver closer as his greeting played.
"Hi, uh, it's me again. I forgot to tell you but the police are going to be looking for you. Someone from the sheriff's office came to talk to me earlier today and I didn't know what to say when they asked about you."
Lois looked around nervously. No one in the crowds bustling past was paying any attention to her, but she still felt uneasy saying anything about his alter ego.
"I told them I thought you had gone back to Metropolis to follow up on some leads about Mickey. So, anyway, uh, we can talk about it when I get back. I'm assuming that since I can't reach you neither can Henderson or anyone else. Not that you owe me any explanations for where you go or what you're doing. I don't want you to think that I'm being nosy. Because I'm not. I, uh, I'll just see you later. Or talk to you later. Probably talk to you. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff that, uh, you have to, you know, take care of. Soooo, bye now."
She picked up the bag at her feet and took three steps before she spun around and dialed his number again. She had to say this, had to tell him before she completely lost her nerve.
"Hi, it's me again. I had to tell you this, just in case. Let's face it, with my luck lately, it's entirely possible that the plane is going to explode in midair or something before I can get back to Metropolis. So the thing is..." Lois took a deep breath and tightened her hand on the phone to keep it from shaking. "I love you, Clark. I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that. I should have told you that sooner. Anyway, I know we have a lot to sort out with, uh, the marriage or annulment or whatever and all that, but I wanted you to know that I do love you. And don't think that it's because of, you know, uh, that other guy. I already felt this way, honest. I hope you can be there tonight. I'd give anything to be able to hug you right now." Her voice faded to a whisper as she realized how much she meant that. She choked on the last few words as her throat seemed to close off and tears came to her eyes. "I miss you, Clark."
She hung up the phone and sagged against the phone carrel's wall. It was out of her hands now. If he felt the same way about her, well, everything would work out. And if he didn't?
Lois pushed that thought away. Clark cared about her - she was absolutely certain of that much. Maybe he even loved her or was starting to love her? He had, after all, refused to leave her behind in the desert. And he had come to visit her - surely that indicated that he wanted to see her again?
<><><>
Lois had sat with her head resting against the window during most of the long flight home. Did Clark really get airsick if he couldn't see out the window when he flew? If she could fly unassisted she was certain it would drive her crazy to be stuck in a metal tube. It drove her crazy enough as it was - all those unproductive hours.
Clark. A delicious shiver went through her at the thought that he might be there when she landed. Assuming he wasn't out saving the world somewhere or that her phone messages hadn't sent him flying in the opposite direction. If he was there, she could hug him. Her arms felt empty, useless almost, that she hadn't been able to hug him at the hospital. More than anything else, she wanted to hold him and feel his arms around her in return.
A week. It had been a week since they were married. A week since she had kissed him. She remembered what he had said about a scorching good night kiss and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. If he was there, if he was waiting for her, it had to mean that he -- what? Wanted her? Wanted to be married to her? Or was he just too polite to ditch her while she was this vulnerable?
The familiar lights of Metropolis appeared below her. She traced the West River bridge on the window, her eyes following the path of that street as it bisected Metropolis. She could see the Daily Planet building and she looked past it, finding the general area of Clinton Street. Had he heard her messages? Would he be waiting for her when she got off the plane? She told herself that it wouldn't matter if he hadn't been able to make it but she knew that was a lie. It mattered. It mattered more than anything else in the world.
She opened her hand and traced a finger over the hospital ID bracelet that she had taken off but had been unable to throw away. "Kent, Lois," she read silently for the umpteenth time. She closed her eyes and remembered his teasing words after he had kissed her at the altar.
<"Hello, Mrs. Kent...">
That name had sent a thrill through her at the time and that was even before everything had changed. Before they had risked their lives to save each other, before she had known his secret, before she had spent the night nestled in his arms to keep warm. What if she really could be Lois Kent? How different - how amazing - would her life be if she could spend every night in his arms simply for the pleasure of being near him?
As the plane touched down her stomach lurched along with the wheels.
Please, let him be there.
<><><>
She was coming down the escalator when the lobby below erupted into a sea of bright flashing lights and people shouting her name, asking her questions about Mickey and what had happened in the desert. She considered running back up the escalator and then she caught sight of him. Clark was in the Suit again, his face grim as he waded through the throng of media.
"She's been through a lot, please give her some room," he told the press as he took her arm and led her toward the doors. She numbly went along with him, clutching the duffel bag she had with her tight as insulation against the melee around her. People spilled out of the terminal along with them, still asking questions. One of the shouted questions made her stop in her tracks.
"Hey, Lois, where's your husband?"
The question caught her off-guard and Lois turned to see Brendan Francis from the Star giving her a knowing grin.
"My what?" she asked, her mind racing as she wondered how Brendan had known to ask that.
"You were registered at the hospital as Lois Kent so I checked and there was a marriage license filed for you and Clark Kent last week. So where's your husband? No one can seem to find him."
"Marriage license?" That was a public record. It would have only taken a phone call for Brendan to confirm a license had been issued. "How is that newsworthy?"
"Maybe it's not," Brendan admitted with a wink. "But, if you are married, I'm going to need to think of someone else to ask to the Press Corps Banquet next month."
"Don't flatter yourself, Brendan. You're not Clark's type."
Brendan tipped his head back and laughed. "Touche, Lois."
Clark's hand gave her elbow a squeeze in recognition of the joke. They took a couple more steps and then Brendan called out. "So are you two married or not?"
They were mid-way from the terminal to the taxi stand but Lois was suddenly weary of the crowd and the questions.
"Superman? Would you please take me home?"
Without a word, Clark scooped her into his arms and rose into the air so quickly that it seemed her stomach had been momentarily left behind.
"I'm not sure you want to go home. There are people camped outside your place," he told her as they soared away from the airport.
"How did they find out?" She had never been more aware of the sheer physicality of Clark than at this moment. Both he and Superman had always seemed so solid to her, but he was currently the only substantial thing in her world. The ephemeral night air was cool and it made a striking contrast to the warmth of his body. The Suit gave her the semblance of normality but her mind was still reeling that it was Clark - Clark! - who was flying with her. In the next instant all her fears dissolved and she relaxed into his sure embrace. She had always trusted Superman but somehow knowing that he was truly Clark increased her confidence in him.
"The wire service in Vegas sent out the story this afternoon. I think someone in the sheriff's office tipped them off. I haven't dared to answer my phone most of the day."
Lois closed her eyes and fought the urge to panic. Obviously, at some point, he had listened to her messages. She wondered why he didn't want to talk about it. Had she revealed too much?
"So Mickey knows we're back in Metropolis now, too," she said, if only to have something neutral to talk about.
"Yet another good reason for you not to go home tonight."
She considered it for a moment and then sighed in resignation. "Darn. I really wanted to sleep in my own bed."
His face softened. "Then I'll take you home."
They landed on the sidewalk outside her building. There were a few reporters and one camera crew waiting for them. "If you want to know what happened," Lois said as they hurried up the stairs, "you can read about it tomorrow in the Daily Planet."
The closer they came to her apartment, the harder her heart began to pound. By the time they got to her door she was almost dizzy. Would he stay with her tonight? Technically they were married, so that had to be okay. But did he consider them married?
Clark took the bag from her so that she could open her door and asked, "Didn't you head out there without luggage? What's in the bag?"
"All the stuff we, uh, Clark and I bought while we were in Vegas. I stopped at the Palace on my way to the airport in the hopes that they still had my purse. They had saved everything we left in our room in a box. Which was a good thing because I wouldn't have been able to get on the plane without my ID." Lois pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Clark followed her in, waiting until the door was shut before he softly asked, "Do you still have that red dress that Mickey bought for you?"
She flushed and took the bag back from him. "Yes."
"Darn," he said and she saw his eyes darken a little. "I'm not sure I could handle seeing you in that dress again."
Her cheeks grew even hotter. "It's a good thing I wasn't planning to wear it then, isn't it?" She stared at his chest. In her mind's eye she could still see the wounds he had suffered. It was wonderful to think that beneath the Suit the damage was gone.
"Definitely," he said and gave her a mischievous grin. "Because I would have some serious expectations if you showed up on my doorstep in that dress."
For a moment her heart pounded so furiously that spots danced in her vision. He was just teasing her - she knew that. He had no idea that she had spent a good portion of the flight from the airport trying to concoct a valid reason to have him stay with her tonight. Here was a ploy she hadn't thought of, not seriously anyway. If all else failed, she could put on the red dress and seduce him. She glanced over at her windows and saw that the curtains were closed.
Alone. There were no prying eyes to watch them. An anxious flutter started in her stomach - was he going to leave her now?
He took a step closer to her and she lifted her gaze to his face. He looked just as hesitant as she felt. How was that possible? Leaving aside the fact that he knew she had a huge crush on him, there was still the matter of her perhaps ill-conceived phone message. What did he have to be nervous about?
"You said," he started and then had to swallow. "You said you wanted to hug me?"
In response she wrapped her arms around him. All the things she had wanted to say fled from her as his arms encircled her in return. The only word she could manage was, "Clark."
"I wanted to hold you, too," he whispered near her ear. "It was all I could do at the hospital not to pick you up and fly away with you then and there."
His admission sent a wave of emotion through her. For a few seconds she fought the urge to cry. Even though she had cried in his arms before - and had always felt safe in doing so - everything was different between them now. Everything was far more complicated and yet a lot more simple.
Clark felt her shudder and he chided himself for pushing her too hard. She didn't want to hear how desperate he had felt when he thought he had lost her. She just wanted a friend tonight - wanted something tangible to prove that they had both made it back safely.
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asked softly. "We're both okay now."
The realization that they were safe sank in and Lois gave up fighting her emotions. She let out a choked little sob and buried her face in his chest to muffle the next one. She cried for the fear she had felt in the truck, in the mine, and ever since she had heard that first gunshot and known that he had been hurt. She sobbed away all the accusations and hurt that learning his secret had caused. She cried for the pain that both of them had suffered and how hard they had struggled together simply to survive. Through all her tears he simply rocked her and whispered soft reassurances.
When she had run out of energy and tears she sagged against him in weariness. Clark lifted her into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. He set her down on her bed and slipped her shoes off before pulling the covers over her. He smoothed a damp tendril of hair away from her forehead and then kissed her cheek softly. "Get some sleep now."
"Don't leave me," she murmured sleepily.
"I won't," he promised and knelt next to the bed.
Her eyes slipped shut and she sighed. Clark watched as her breathing evened out and her face became lax. When he was certain she was asleep, he kissed her cheek again and left the room, pulling the door half-shut behind him.
<><><>
Blood. There was so much blood and no matter how frantically she searched she couldn't find the source.
"Clark! Stay with me!" she begged as his eyes closed. "Please!"
He didn't seem to hear her as she desperately pressed her hands to his chest, watching in horror as her efforts did nothing to stop the flow. Suddenly, there was a boom and he disappeared.
Lois sat up and gasped. The windows of her bedroom were still rattling from a rumble of thunder. She could hear the rain outside and she flopped back onto her pillow.
Was Clark still there?
She glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost four in the morning. There was a soft glow of light coming from the other side of her half-closed door. She tiptoed from her bedroom into her kitchen. One of the lamps in her living room was on and she saw him then, stretched out on the floor on his stomach with his head pillowed on his folded arms. He had changed into the t-shirt and sweat bottoms that he had bought for pajamas in Las Vegas.
The memory of her nightmare flooded through her. He was only sleeping, she chided herself. He wasn't dead. The urge to check on him was overwhelming so she silently crept towards him and knelt next to him on the floor. She had taken hold of the blanket to pull it higher over him when he stirred, turning over and sleepily asking, "Lois?"
"Shh. Go back to sleep."
Another boom of thunder sounded outside and he sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No." She shook her head. "I just woke up and came out to check on you." He looked so young without his glasses - and without the bruises that had covered his face after the attack. She almost reached out to touch him, but then stopped herself. "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"
"Your couch is too small."
"So you chose the floor?"
He shrugged. "I've slept in worse places. Your floor really isn't that bad."
On impulse, Lois laid down, looking first at her ceiling and then at him. "You're right. It's not that bad, considering."
Clark smiled and lowered himself so that he was propped up on his side facing her. "I'm sorry if the light woke you up."
"It wasn't the light, it was the thunder and I, uh, I was having a bad dream anyway."
"What was your dream about?"
She shook her head and snuggled a little closer to him. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay." Clark slipped his arm around her, drawing her against him as he lay down on his back. Lois moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his stomach.
She smoothed out a wrinkle on his shirt with her fingers. "Do you have any scars from what happened?"
"No. They're gone." When she didn't say anything, Clark felt terrible. "It's unfair, isn't it?" he asked regretfully.
"No. It's wonderful." Lois ran her hand over the spot where his wound had been and then propped herself up on his chest so that she could see his face. Her hand moved to cup his cheek as her eyes drank in the sight of his beloved features free of the bruises and blood that haunted her dreams. On impulse she leaned closer and touched her lips softly to his. His lips parted slightly but he didn't kiss her back. Lois moved to kiss the corner of his mouth and then his cheekbone. "I'm glad you're back to being you, Clark. When I woke up in the hospital and remembered what had happened I was so worried about you. Hearing that you were fine - and then seeing that you were - well, it was like a miracle."
She kissed him again, letting her mouth linger against his so she could savor the feel of his lips. It seemed to her now that things had gone far too fast in that Vegas hotel room. She hadn't thought to memorize the way that kissing him had felt. They had all the time in the world now and she settled against him, content simply to take little tastes of him as his warm breath played across her mouth.
A wave of longing surged through Clark. More than anything he wanted to kiss her back and tell her how he felt. He wanted to leave her without any uncertainty about his feelings for her and their marriage. He didn't want to pressure her so he had been careful to avoid the subject. The gentle weight of her body against his and the feather-soft brush of her lips were dissolving all his good intentions.
Lois sighed when she felt him waver. "Do I have to ask you to kiss me every time?" she teased.
"A real kiss?" he answered in the same light tone.
"God, yes." This time when she pressed her lips to his, he combed his hands into her hair, holding her to the kiss as he came alive beneath her. She opened her mouth to welcome him as his tongue nudged its way inside and caressed her lips. She dipped her tongue into his mouth and the kiss turned deep and hungry.
"I love you," he whispered before their kiss melted into another. He said it again when that kiss ended, unable to hold back any longer. "Lois, I love you. I always have."
"I love you," she told him, more than a little breathless from both his words and his kisses. She searched his dark eyes, feeling another jolt of heat low in her belly at the intensity of his gaze. Lois ran her fingers through his hair, captivated by the pull of his silky locks tickling through her fingers. A lock slipped away from her and fell onto his forehead in a shallow curl.
All at once he rolled, turning them both so they were lying face to face as his leg possessively covered hers. She knew, deep down, that she had just pushed him past his limits. His hoarse plea in Vegas for them to stop replayed in her mind and it sent a hot shiver of desire through her. His hand touched her shoulder, then pulled away.
"You aren't hurting me," she told him breathlessly, guessing that he was nervous about her injuries. Feeling bolder now, she slipped her hand beneath his t-shirt, letting her fingers glide over the spot where the bullet had struck him. "You can touch me, Clark. It's okay."
Clark let out a shaky laugh. "If I start touching you now, I might not stop. I want you. I don't just mean for tonight or for... this." He swallowed hard and then added, "Lois, I meant every word I said in that wedding chapel. I want you for my wife."
Her heart seemed to have burst, spilling happiness into every cell of her body. "And I want you for my husband."
He placed a kiss just below her ear as his arms tightened around her. "To have and to hold."
Lois tipped her head back to look into his eyes, remembering the fear and horror at the mine and how they had struggled together to get away. "For better or for worse."
Clark smiled, remembering the very different circumstances of the nights they had spent together. From a posh hotel room to lying beneath the stars with only his cape and their shared body heat to keep them warm. "For richer or poorer."
"In sickness and in health." As she spoke the words she could still remember how horribly wounded he had been and how brave and determined he must have been to save them both.
"To love, honor and cherish." Having nearly lost her he knew the true value of what he now held. It was a promise he meant with all his heart - he would spend the rest of his life cherishing her.
"Until death parts us." Lois remembered making him promise that he wouldn't leave her and how he had exacted the same promise from her.
His eyes darkened with emotion. "Not even death, Lois. I'll love you forever."
For a moment it seemed that time stood still as the full impact of what they had just promised set in for them both. Married. They really were married. For a breathless moment they could only stare at each other.
Then Lois put her arms around his neck and whispered, "Make love to your wife."
<><><>
End
ETA: I'm so tired and frazzled - that's the only explanation I can manage for why I forgot to thank DJ.
Many thanks (as always) to DJ who patiently read draft after draft of this story and yet never failed to be enthusiastic about it. Thanks for the idea, for the encouragement, and for your friendship. Out of those, I value your friendship most. <<<hugs>>>
