Glad to see fics are still forthcoming.
TOC of all stories located
here. A Vision in White
“I’m not sure how you talked me into this,” Clark complained as he easily fell into step beside his partner.
Lois smirked. “You’re not afraid of a little shopping, are you?”
“Of course not,” he protested. “I just think one of your girlfriends would have made a better choice.”
“Nah, I need a man’s perspective.”
Lois swung open the shop door and walked right in. It took her a moment to notice that her companion hadn’t followed. He stood at a standstill outside the door—a look of horror passing over his countenance.
“Aren’t you coming?” Lois inquired with just a touch of irritation.
“This is a wedding boutique.”
She smiled at him. “Well, of course it is, silly. Where did you think we were going?”
“You said you wanted my opinion on a dress…”
“And I do. I want your opinion on my wedding gown. What? You think I should ask my MOTHER? No way I’m going down that road. So are you coming?”
His eyes finally left the manikins in the window long enough to find her face. “I can’t believe that Luthor’s personal seamstress hasn’t already taken your measurements. Won’t he be appalled that you’re buying a dress off the rack for this, the social event of the year?”
She frowned at him. “I’m Lois Lane; regular, middle-class woman for two more weeks. I’m doing this one last thing my way.”
Clark’s tone softened. He took her hand in his. “You know, if you don’t want to be the wife of a gazillionaire you don’t have to be. Just say the word, and the whole things off.”
“Fat chance.” She tugged on his arm, pulling him into the dress shop behind her.
The clerk that greeted them practically bubbled as she saw Clark in tow. “You brought your groom. How charming! How’s the lovely couple today?”
“I was just trying to talk her out of this whole marriage thing,” Clark beamed at her with a hyper-saccharin smile. “And how are you today?”
The shop clerk froze for a minute, as if unsure how to respond. Her laugh was forced and weak as her gaze swung from the bridge to the supposed groom. “Let’s talk dresses,” she finally suggested. “In addition to traditional white, we have off-white, candlelight, antique and beige, as well as nearly white shades of blue, pink, yellow and peach. Where would you like to begin?”
“While you ladies do the dress thing, I’m going to see if they have any magazines by the fitting rooms,” Clark suggested.
The shopkeeper caught his arm before he left. “We don’t. If you will be so kind as to remove your shoes before stepping onto the carpeting?”
He glanced down to notice the hardwood floors by the entranceway and the soft, plush carpet throughout the rest of the store. “Fine,” he muttered as he sank into a chair and tugged at a shoe lace.
“Thank you so much. We do like to keep our true whites truly white. You understand.” She turned away from Lois and continued her litany of questions.
“The color?”
“White will be fine.”
“Fabulous.” She made a notation on a clipboard form. “We also have a variety of lengths to suit any preference. We have a few tea length dresses, although this season most of the women are choosing floor length with a train to match the size of the room.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, yet,” Lois confessed.
She paused for a second to consider, but Clark interrupted. “Did you forget who you were marrying? You’ll want the longest cathedral length train since Lady Di.”
Lois frowned, but after a moment nodded her agreement.
The shopkeeper made another notation on her form. “Excellent. Let’s take off your shoes and then we’ll begin.”
The ladies disappeared for what seemed like ages. He could easily hear them chatting about necklines and adornments. Finally, Lois selected a dress to try on. Clark wandered back to where three mirrors were strategically hung at the top of the stairs, probably to allow the bride the opportunity to see her dress from all angles. He plopped into a chair
Apparently, all of the dresses in the shop were in larger sizes to allow a wider selection of customers to try them on. The clerk explained how Lois’s measurements would be taken and the dress of her choice would be special ordered to arrive before the big day. It took quite a long time for the Lois to get into the dress, since everything had to be pinned into an approximation of Lois’s correct size.
He waited morosely, wishing he were anyplace else doing anything else than what he was doing. Didn’t she know how much this was killing him? It was clear how he felt about Luthor. It was abundantly clear how he felt about her upcoming wedding and the marriage that would ultimately follow. So why was she torturing him like this?
Lois finally reappeared from the fitting rooms. It was a mixture of the commonplace and the extraordinary. Her hair and makeup were the Lois he saw every day, and when she lifted her dress to walk up the stairs, he could see her socks peaking out from below. Yet, in that stunning dress, she was transformed into a Barbie doll bride. White lace hugged her every curve, showing off her petite waist. Intricate beadwork accentuated the swell of her breasts. Her bare neck called to him—how he longed to trail kisses down her neck.
He swallowed and reminded himself to breathe, unaware that he had risen to his feet at her entrance. His mind transported her to an old church building in Smallville, Kansas with candlelight dancing over her features. He could envision it all: her slow walk between the wooden benches, sunlight streaming through stained glass and the sound of the organ as it echoed against the high wooden ceilings. He could see her smile from beneath her veil as she approached him.
“Do you like it?” she worried.
He struggled to compose himself. “The dress—you look stunning.”
“You think?” She wrinkled her nose and turned to the mirror. She caught his eye in the reflection as he walked up the steps to stand at her side.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks, Clark.” She leaned against him and he pulled her into a hug. His hand brushed against the bare flesh of her back as he embraced her—he’d been so mesmerized by the front of the dress that he hadn’t noticed the bodice was backless.
She leaned back ever so slightly and continued to smile up at him. He looked down at her, as well, only to notice the clear view of her cleavage down the front of her low-cut dress.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this,” she confessed.
“Maybe it’s because you’re marrying the wrong man.”
“Not that again.”
He began to respond, when she interrupted. “This is the part where you tell me I’m marrying a monster, right?”
Clark sighed. It was now or never. “It’s not just that. It’s…” He sighed and reached for her hand. “It’s that… Lois, I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the day that you came sweeping into my life.” He searched her face for a reaction, but her face was blank. “You had to have known.”
“Well, of course I knew you were fond of me. Clark, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I love every minute that we spend together. I love you, too, but you don’t date your brother. You understand? You’re like family to me.”
“You’re more than family to me, Lois.” The dark chocolate of his eyes melted as he peered into hers. “I love you. You deserve the very best. To see you with a guy like Lex just kills me.”
She choked back tears. “I wish you could support the decisions I’ve made… for me… for our friendship.”
“Because of our friendship, I can’t lie to you. I can’t do this anymore.” Clark fled down the stairs, but paused to look back just one more time. Lois was a vision of beauty in a wedding gown.
He asked. “You’re doing a formal receiving line, right?”
She nodded. Of course, she was.
“Then find a different wedding gown. Every one in the receiving line will be able to see right down the front of that one when you shake hands.” He frowned. “Luthor doesn’t share his assets.”
Her hand flew to the front of her chest, but Clark wasn’t paying attention any more. He brushed past the sales clerk, who was dotting at her eyes with a tissue. Without a second glance, he left the store.
When she was certain he was truly gone, Lois leaned toward the mirror as if to shake a hand. She was horrified to discover that Clark was right—she could clearly see her bra and beyond.
She was a little shaky as she descended the staircases. She tried to get back into the spirit of the occasion, but it was no use. She tried on many dresses that afternoon, but she didn’t have Clark to offer a second opinion. She needed his help. Without his assistance she was left empty-handed.
