Well, here's part 4. Technically, it's Thursday now
. I was tweaking one of the next couple of parts today and Lois said something and the next thing I knew, I was emailing Alisha with two new plot bunnies *sigh*. What's up with characters? One of them - the one she liked better - wouldn't get out of my head until I'd written five pages, ending with Lois staring? glaring? ogling? watching? Clark in a towel. And the things I already know about that universe surprised me. But like I need another WIP. *sigh*
I'm going to add a bottom dwellers note as well so check it out when you're done
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I took parts 4-6 and made them into parts 4-5. Of course, I also ended up splitting a later section into two when it hit about 27 pages so I'm still at the same number or so. A general warning, there is next to no A plot in the entire fic - it's almost purely B plot. They say write what you'd want to read, and I want to read Lois and Clark getting to know each other. I decided that 3 parts was probably too much of that [though that's not entirely what the next couple of parts are] and I did cut out some stuff that really didn't further what we know about this Lois and Clark. That said the next two parts are longer than general.
So here it is
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Chapter 4
*****
"Clark, put me down." Lois swatted at his arm.
"Nope. I'm carrying my bride over the threshold!"
"Clark, it's not even a..." she made air quotes with her fingers. "...real wedding night."
"So?" He kicked the door behind him. "I have no intention of marrying again and I'm going to carry my bride over the threshold on my wedding day."
She struggled against his hold on her. "Fine, you carried me over the threshold. Now put me down."
He laughed as he set her on her feet. "There. Safe and sound."
"At least you didn't drop me," Lois muttered as she turned away.
He stopped her with a hand gently placed on her shoulder and spoke to her back. "Lois, I would never drop you. I promise. I'll never let you fall."
She paused for just a second. "I know." She looked around for a minute before continuing. "Aunt Louise really went all out. I didn't know she had it in her. She said a room at a nice hotel, not the honeymoon suite at the Lexor."
Clark sat on the couch and bounced experimentally. "Well, it's more comfortable than the couch at your house."
Lois looked at him with an undecipherable look on her face then dropped her purse on the overstuffed chair and headed for the bathroom.
Clark sighed and headed out the door to get their luggage.
*****
Lois sank into the oversized soaking tub. Getting married was worth it if for no other reason than this.
She heard Clark moving around in the other room. He had called in to her that he was going to unpack his things and asked what she wanted him to order her for dinner.
Twenty minutes later, she heard a knock on the door. Reluctantly, she stepped from the giant heart shaped tub and dried off with a luxurious towel. She cursed mentally as she realized that she didn't have any clean clothes to put on. She sighed and wrapped the oversized robe around her, cinching the belt tight.
She took a deep breath before stepping into the room.
"So, what did you get us for dinner?"
Clark smiled at her through the door to the living room of the suite. "Fusilli all'amatriciana."
"What's that?"
"It's a pasta dish with tomato, basil, bacon and onion. It's delicious."
"Smells great." She looked at her suitcase, still sitting on the bed. "I am going to, um, go put some clean clothes on."
He nodded. "I'll wait for you."
*****
Clark took a deep breath as Lois shut the door to the bedroom. He hadn't been prepared for this. He loved Lois. He had known for years that he would marry her – even though he had dated others casually in high school – but this wasn't exactly how he had pictured their wedding night. He'd guessed that Lois was soaking in the tub and it was hard to keep his eyes to himself, but he'd promised himself years ago he'd never peek at anyone – and now anyone included his wife. Sure, most men saw their wives sans clothes on their wedding night, but that was with permission and permission he didn't have. But he'd also thought that she'd be dressed when she came out of the bathroom.
The robe was perfectly modest, probably covering more of her than the dress she had worn to their wedding. But even the slightest suggestion of what might or might not be underneath made him slightly queasy. But queasy in a good way. Or it would have been a good way if this was a regular wedding night.
He had barely had time to collect his thoughts when the door opened and Lois emerged.
Clark couldn't hold back a laugh.
"What?" she asked indignantly.
"Lois, I promised, no funny stuff." And he'd meant it.
She rolled her eyes at him.
"Flannel? Really?"
She looked down at her long sleeve shirt and pants. "They're my favorites. I sleep best when it's cold, so I turned down the air conditioner – I hope that's okay with you – and now I'm wearing my favorite warm pajamas."
He grinned at her. "It's fine, Lois. But just remember, nothing will ever happen that you don't want to."
"I know and that's not what this is about, Clark. I just wanted to be comfy." She picked the cover off of one of the plates. "This looks delicious. Let's eat."
Clark agreed and they started to eat.
After a few minutes, Clark spoke. "Lois, you didn't have to get me a wedding band."
"I know, but I wanted to." They'd had this discussion the evening Clark proposed. He'd told her how he'd always wanted to wear his dad's, even if it had to be resized, but he had no idea what had happed to it.
"Where did you get the money? I thought you were broke – just like me."
"Clark, something you need to learn, and quickly..." Lois grinned at him.
Clark raised a brow at her, almost afraid of what she was about to say.
"When your *wife* gets you something, don't question it. Just go with it."
Clark laughed. "Yes, ma'am."
"That's more like it." She poked at her pasta for a minute. "I'm sorry I couldn’t get it engraved, Clark. I had enough money, but that would have completely wiped me out and I didn't want to do that."
He reached across and covered her hand with his. He smiled as she looked at him. "It's okay, Lois. Maybe we can get it engraved someday, but that's not important. What's important is that we're together and we can keep you and Lucy out of the system."
He took his hand back and they ate in silence for a few more minutes.
"It was my mom's favorite saying, you know. My dad's too, but especially my mom's."
Lois was momentarily confused. "What was?"
"'I have loved you since the beginning and I'll love you till the end.'"
"Ah."
Clark held a wine glass – filled with soda – in his hand and stared at the bubbly liquid. "We said it every night as far back as I can remember. I'd climb in bed and Mom would tuck me in – at least until I made her stop because I thought I was too old for such things – and she'd say 'I have loved you since the beginning and I'll love you till the end'. I still remember the first night I said it with her. I was like five years old and she tucked me in and before she could say anything, I said, 'I've loved you since the beginning, Mama'. I remember her tears – looking back I'm sure they were happy tears, but I'd played hard that day and was almost asleep, but I heard her say 'I'll love you till the end, Clarkie.'" He looked sheepishly at Lois. "I hated it when she called me that, but every night after that, it was the last thing we said, though after I complained enough she just called me Clark."
Lois smiled sadly at him. "I wish I had those kinds of memories."
He smiled back. "We'll make new ones."
*****
An hour later, they sat on the couch watching a movie they both claimed was their favorite.
Lois shivered slightly and Clark shifted so she could rest against him. He pulled a blanket over the two of them.
When the next commercial started, he turned to her. "Lois, it's been years since we've actually seen each other, but you're my best friend, you know that right?"
She pulled out of her resting spot. "And you're my best friend, Clark."
"Let's face it though. We've never spent much time together and things could be a bit weird at first."
She turned so she was facing directly at him. "I know that, Clark. We're going to have to get to know each other – how we each do things, who likes to shower in the morning and who likes to shower at night and stuff like that."
"Lois, I want you to know that if you ever need a hug or someone to curl up with on the couch while watching an old movie, or anything else, you can and you don't have to worry that I'll get the wrong idea."
She smiled at him. "Thanks, Clark. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."
"Good. Then come here." He lifted the edge of the blanket and motioned her back under. "I know what you meant earlier about sleeping better when it is cold, but it also makes it easier to get comfy under a nice blanket."
She moved back towards him and settled comfortably in under his shoulder, her head resting on his chest.
He pulled her in slightly closer and kissed the side of her head. "Happy wedding day, Mrs. Kent."
She pulled back again and looked at him. "Mrs. Kent?"
He shrugged. "We *did* just get married... Most women who get married are referred to as Mrs. Whatever-their-husband's-last-name-is."
She frowned slightly. "I'm not most women."
He grinned. "I know. And you don't have to change your name if you don't want to."
"That wouldn’t bother you?"
Clark shrugged again. "Maybe a little. I mean I always figured when I got married, my wife would take my name, but I'm married to you, not your name. If you want to change your name, go ahead, but if you don't that's okay with me too."
"Hmm... I'll have to think about that. Maybe I could hyphenate or something."
"If you want to."
"Lois Lane-Kent." She wrinkled her nose just a bit. "It sounds... different."
"It is different."
She thought for a minute. "It's not that I don't *want* to be a Kent – it's better than being a Lane in a lot of ways – but I want to graduate as Lois Lane. I want to win a Pulitzer as Lois Lane – but I'm not sure I want to *be* Lois Lane. Lanes are... drunks and cheats."
Clark pulled her back against him. "*You* are not a drunk or a cheat."
"I know." She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. "I still want to have Lois Lane on my diploma. And my Pulitzer."
"*Our* Pulitzer," Clark smiled.
She smacked his chest lightly. "Semantics."
"Well, what if you keep your name until after graduation and then, if you want to, change it to Lois Lane-Kent or even Lois Kent, but use Lois Lane for professional purposes; for your byline. Kent and Kent or Kent and Lane-Kent just doesn't sound right. Kent and Lane though... I've been getting used to that potential byline for years now."
"Kent and Lane does *not* sound right either."
"It doesn't?"
She smacked his chest again. "No. It's Lane and Kent and don't you forget it."
He laughed. "Yes, ma'am." He sighed happily as she settled back into his arms. "But tonight – on my wedding night – I'm going to call you Mrs. Kent. If that's okay with you."
She smiled at him. "I guess."
"Then happy wedding day, Mrs. Kent." He kissed the side of her head again.
She giggled just a bit. "Happy wedding day, Mr. Kent. And thank you," she added softly.
"For what?"
"For being so understanding. For being you."
"Hey, I don't know how to be anybody else."
"I'm glad."
*****
Two hours later, Clark was having the most wonderful dream. Lois was laying there with him and she was kissing him. Before long, he realized it wasn't a dream but that they were stretched out on the couch, the wonderful weight of his wife lying on top of him, her lips against his.
The kisses were soft and gentle and he returned them without hesitation at first. Could she really know what she was doing? Was this something she really wanted?
Her kisses interrupted his thoughts and it took nothing to banish them to the far reaches of his mind.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in to him. The kisses deepened, awakening something in him he had never felt before.
His hand slid slightly under her shirt until he just grazed the skin above the waistline of her flannel pants.
He heard her gasp before she pulled back from him.
"Clark? What's going on?"
"Lois?" He was puzzled.
She sat straight up and practically bolted to the other end of the couch. "What was that?"
"I woke up and you were kissing me."
Lois eyed him warily. "Really?"
He ran his hands through his hair. "Honest. I would never do something like that if it wasn't something I thought you wanted."
She pulled her knees into her chest. "I know. I don't know what happened, Clark, but I'm not ready for that. I don't know that I will ever be."
He stood. "I know and it's okay."
"No, Clark, it's not fair to you."
"I know what I promised you when I asked you to marry me. And I still plan to keep that promise. If you ever change your mind, I'm here, but until then I'll still be here – I'll be your best friend and that's all until you're ready for more." He took a deep breath and stood. "Um, I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be back in a little bit." He turned, one hand on the door knob. He nodded towards the king sized bed visible through the door to the other room. "Go to bed. Get some sleep. I'll take the couch when I get back."
Lois shook her head. "It's a big bed. We're at a nice hotel, and even with the nice couch, there's no reason for you to sleep on it. I trust you, Clark. We've already discussed this and we need to get used to sleeping in the same bed."
Clark nodded. "I'll be back."
*****
Lois slipped in between the covers, resting her head on the plush pillow and pulling the blankets close around her. She had been dreaming about what it would be like to kiss Clark and suddenly she was. They must have fallen asleep watching TV and with him so close... her subconscious must have really wanted to kiss him.
She was amazed that he had stopped at the first sign of any hesitation on her part. She knew he loved her and she couldn't imagine that at least part of him didn't want to make love to her. It was their wedding night after all. Maybe someday...
She lay there, drifting towards sleep, when she heard Clark quietly open the door, obviously trying not to wake her. She heard him take off his shoes and sit down on the couch.
"Clark?" She spoke quietly.
"Yes?"
"Please don't sleep on the couch."
She heard him sigh and then stand.
"Okay."
She felt him pull the covers back and sit down on the bed, swinging his legs up onto it.
She felt him hesitate and then settle in behind, but not touching, her. Suddenly, she had the overwhelming urge to feel his arms around her. To feel safe.
"Do you mind if I hold you while we sleep?" He asked quietly.
Was he a mind reader? "No."
She was surprised to find that he wasn't wearing a shirt when he snuggled in next to her.
"Thank you."
"For what?" She couldn't figure out what he would be thanking her for.
"For letting me hold you tonight. I never told you this, but my mom left me letters for momentous occasions in my life. She wasn't morbid or anything but realistic about her mortality. She left them with Wayne and told him to give me the first one when he thought I could handle it – if they'd died when I was older, he probably would have given it to me pretty quickly, but he didn't. Not until I was 15. He gave me this whole packet of letters – first date, graduation, first day of college, college graduation, engagement, wedding, first big fight with my wife, finding out my wife is pregnant, after the birth of my first child, ones for milestone birthdays and a couple of others that just have random dates on them. I've read a few of them, obviously, but I read the engagement and wedding ones yesterday." He chuckled. "I could tell that she didn't expect the engagement and wedding to be so close together."
Lois waited while he thought. His voice was quiet when he started to speak again. "In the wedding one she... gave me some advice that isn't really pertinent but was really weird to read – I don't need to think about my parents doing *that*." He shuddered lightly. "She also said the thing she loved most about being married – even more than... that – was having my dad hold her while she slept and that he'd told her that was his favorite thing too. Someone to hold and to be held." His arm tightened slightly around her waist. "Thank you for letting me experience that."
She felt his arm tighten around her just a bit more.
"They were right," he whispered. "We fit together just right."
She closed her eyes and finally drifted back to sleep.
In many ways, she felt like she had finally come home.
*****
Her first thought was that she wasn't at home. And what kind of pillow was that?
Lois opened her eyes just a sliver. A streak of sunlight peeked through the crack in the curtains, falling on Clark's face. That 'pillow' was his chest and she was resting in the crook of his arm as though she had lain there thousands of times before.
Under her hand was skin that was softer than she could have imagined and that belied the hard muscles beneath. Wow. She thought to herself that he must work out constantly to have abs like that.
Some primal urge encouraged her to run her hands over that six pack and those arms and possibly even...
She stopped the thought in its tracks.
Clark was a handsome man, there was no denying that, and they *had* gotten married the day before, but animal attraction was no reason for her to open herself up to the hurt so many of her friends had experienced.
If she was truly honest with herself, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her the way her friends had been hurt by men, no, by boys who supposedly loved them, but she wasn't going to take any chances. Her heart was simply too fragile to risk.
He stirred beneath her and turned his head towards hers until he could place a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Good morning, Mrs. Kent."
His voice was low and sultry, still in that world that was half awake and half asleep and it almost made her forget her resolve, but she didn't. She couldn't.
"Morning, Clark. And I thought Mrs. Kent was just for our wedding day."
His arm wrapped a little tighter around her, pulling her closer to him. "I expanded it to 'honeymoon'. Especially if we're in bed together. If that's okay with you."
She smiled at him. "Yeah. I guess it's okay."
He smiled back. "My mom was right."
She yawned before responding. "About what?"
"About holding my wife while we sleep. That I'd love it."
She could feel his breath teasing her hair and, in that moment, she decided that if she could pick anywhere to spend the rest of her life, right here would most certainly do. She nodded against his chest. "This is nice."
She could feel him yawn and stretch next to her before he spoke again.
"So, what do you want to do today? It's our honeymoon – no one would fault us if we wanted to do nothing at all but stay here. You could take another bath, maybe order those massages your aunt mentioned, order room service, take a nap... Do you have any preferences?"
She shook her head. No preferences. Except to stay here for the rest of her life.
*****
"Madam, these are for you." The bellhop handed her a dress bag.
Lois looked puzzled. "We didn't order these."
"All I know is I was told to bring them up here and give them and this to you." He handed her an envelope.
Clark stepped behind her and handed the young man a couple of dollar bills. "Thank you."
"What's this?" Lois unzipped one of the bags. "This must be yours." She held the bag containing a black tuxedo in his direction.
"Unless you think I'll look good in this." Clark held up a black dress.
Lois laughed. "I think we probably better trade. That length wouldn't really look very good on you."
He handed her the bag. "There's a card, too." He opened the envelope. "To my favorite couple – have a wonderful night on the town. On me. A car will pick you up at 730. Lois has a hair and makeup appointment at 6. Love you both. Aunt Louise." He raised a brow at Lois. "I guess we're going out tonight."
"I guess so." Lois took the card from him. "But we don't have to be anywhere until 6 – or well I don't – what do you want to do until then?"
Clark laid the bag with the tuxedo in it over the back of the chair and opened the large gift bag that had been delivered with their clothes. "We could play Scrabble." He pulled a Scrabble box out of the bag. "Or Monopoly." He dug through the rest of the items. "Or poker. There are chips and cards here. Or Trivial Pursuit or Yahtzee or Uno or chess."
"That's what she sent?"
"Yep. And a couple others, too." Clark pulled them out one by one, stacking them on the table as he did. "Any preferences?"
Lois picked up Scrabble. "You're on. Wanna bet?"
Clark laughed. "Sure. What do you wanna bet?"
Lois sat on the couch and slowly began to open the Scrabble box. "Loser lets the winner pick their entrée tonight at dinner."
Clark made a face at her. "That is not much of a bet. Especially since I'll eat just about anything."
"Do you have any other ideas?"
"Winner gets to..." Clark thought for a minute. "No, loser has to do laundry for a month."
"Laundry?"
"Sure. We're an old married couple now, right? One of us has to do laundry so – for the next month – the loser has to do it."
Lois poured all the tiles into a bag. "Okay, but I'm warning you, laundry is not my strong suit. Anything you own that's white will probably be pink by the time the month's over."
"So you admit you are going to lose?"
"Oh, no. I'm going to win. I just wanted you to know why you'll be glad you lost." She pulled a tile out of the bag. "Z. I get to go first."
"You never know." Clark reached into the bag and pulled out his own tile. "A. I guess you're right. You do get to go first."
"I'm always right, Clark," she said with a wink. "And don't you forget it."
He laughed. "Yes, ma'am."
*****
Lois sipped on her soda, placing tiles on the board that was rapidly filling up. "There."
Clark laughed. "That is not a word."
"Sure it is."
"No. It's not."
"Yes, it is."
"Lois, chumpy is not a word."
"Sure it is."
"Use it in a sentence."
"The man was acting chumpy."
Clark raised one eyebrow. "I'm not buying it. Give me a definition of chumpy."
"Someone who acts like a chump is acting chumpy."
Clark rolled his eyes. "If you want to win using made up words, be my guest." He shrugged. "I just figured you would want to win fair and square."
Lois rolled her eyes and took the letters off the board. She rearranged the letters on her letter rack. She eyed the board carefully and then chose. She put down the letters for pouch. "Better?"
"Yeah."
Half an hour later, Lois groaned. "Okay, okay, you win. I have to do laundry all month." Lois held the silver bag as Clark folded the board together and funneled the tiles into the bag. "Double or nothing?"
"Two months worth of laundry?"
"Yep."
"You're on." Clark put the lid on the Scrabble box. "What game this time?"
"I picked Scrabble. Your turn."
Clark eyed the stack of games on the table. "Trivial Pursuit." He tore off the plastic. "What color do you want to be?"
"Yellow." Lois took one box of questions and opened the package of cards. "Roll to see who goes first?" When Clark nodded, she rolled the die, and then grimaced. "One."
Clark rolled. "Six. My turn to go first." They finished setting up the board and got out the pie pieces.
Lois won the roll of the die and quickly made it to the first pie piece question. "Great, Arts and Entertainment. Not exactly my strongest category."
Clark grinned at her. "Maybe you should read 'People' a little more often." He pulled out a card. "Who is the host of the top rated entertainment show 'Top Copy'?"
Lois sighed. "I have no idea. I have better things to do with my time than watch that trash. Your turn."
"Diana Stride." Clark also managed to roll a six, landing him on a pie spot. He had chosen history.
"What year was the Daily Planet founded?"
Clark grinned. "You told me remember."
Lois groaned and banged her head lightly against the table. "How could I forget? The 87 page letter describing my experience at the Daily Planet when I was a freshman. And you with an eidetic memory. Here. Take it." She held out a yellow pie piece.
Clark laughed. "For the record, the letter was only 18 pages long – front and back – and Daily Planet was founded in 1775." He rolled the die. "Roll again." He did. "Wild card."
Lois laughed. "Whose personal plane was equipped with a blue suede bathroom?"
Clark groaned. "Must be President Presley's."
Lois sighed again and handed him an orange piece. "Here you go."
Nearly half an hour later, Clark had all but one pie piece.
"Arts and Entertainment. Last one." She pulled a card. "Finish the lyrics to the Frank Sinatra song: "Fly me to the moon / Let me play among the stars / Let me see what spring is like / On a-Jupiter and Mars / In other words, hold my hand / In other words, baby,...?"
Clark hummed and then answered. "Kiss me." He triumphantly placed the pink piece into his pie. "Now all I have to do is land in the middle."
Nearly an hour after that, Lois landed triumphantly in the middle. "One more question and I win. What category?"
"Arts and Entertainment seems to give you the most trouble, so I'll pick that one." He pulled a card and read the question. "Gwendolyn stays with Jarrod even though she's in love with Jonathan on which daytime soap opera?"
"I can't believe I know this. No, I can't believe I'm answering this so that you know that I know this." Lois held her head in her hands.
"Lois watches soaps?" Clark raised a brow.
"Soap. Singular. My mom got me hooked years ago. It's the Ivory Tower."
Clark groaned. "Okay, you win."
Lois smiled back at him. "You didn't do so bad yourself, farmboy. You just didn't get lucky with the die there near the end. You couldn't land in the middle to save your life."
"So, we split laundry duty for the next two months." Clark began putting the game away. "That's something we probably need to talk about."
"What's that?"
"How to split chores and stuff. Laundry or dishes or cooking or whatever."
Lois laughed. "I do very little domestic stuff. Any chores you want, you're welcome to. And as for cooking – if you want to live, you'll probably want to do the cooking. My cooking is probably hazardous to your health."
"Oh, I am sure my stomach could handle just about anything you could throw at it."
"Really?"
"You bet your sweet little chumpy." He grinned at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. How about a game of Speed? Loser makes dinner – and cleans up the dishes – for a month."
"You're on!"
*****
Lois left for the salon still grumbling about losing at Speed. She hoped Clark's stomach really was made of steel as he claimed.
An hour later, feeling quite pampered and refreshed, she reentered their suite, feeling slightly out of place in her sweat pants, sweat shirt and upswept hair.
Clark grinned. "You look great from the neck up."
Lois glared at him, but was stopped in her tracks. He didn't have his tie on yet and his collar was undone, but there he stood in his tuxedo, complete with suspenders. "Wow." She could not stop herself. He looked incredible, even though he wasn't completely ready. "You look very nice yourself."
With that she grabbed the dress bag and headed for the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. When she reemerged, she wore a black dress that just skimmed her knees, and a cut that clung to her every curve.
By then, Clark had tied his tie and sat on the couch waiting for her. He almost floated up out of his seat when she emerged. Instead he let out a low wolf whistle. "I hope you don't mind, but you look... Wow."
Lois giggled. "Hope you're better with words than that. You'll never make it as a journalist if that's all you can come up with."
Clark grinned at her. "How about beautiful? Does that work for you?"
She nodded, but before either one of them could say another word, there the phone rang.
Lois answered, then turned back to Clark. "Our car's here." She giggled. "Imagine that? 'Our car'. Sounds a lot fancier than we really are.
Clark nodded and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"
She slipped her hand into his elbow. "Let's go."
*****
TBC
Bottom Dweller's Notes:
Clark surprised me the night of the Kerths when I was working on the going to bed scene when he mentioned the letters from Martha. Since then Martha has come 'round and made [yes, made] me write some of them. I plan to finish writing them and posting them as companion pieces. So I'll post the first couple of letters from Martha in a couple of days before I post part 5. Not every part will have letters posted to go with it. The next few will as I get 'caught up' and then will post the letters as the relevant event happens in the story [Clark's 21st birthday for instance].
See what I mean about not needing any more WIPs?
