Yeah - so when I was doing the whole word count analysis, I was looking at Long Road Home by Erin Klingler as the longest fic when in fact it's Longest Roads: The Roads They Walked Alone by Rac. So... Still long, but not that long
. Am not going to hit Rac's record. However, KB count in txt format puts it at number 5 currently with LRH as number 4 and I do think I'm going to beat that so... Am still very proud of it
.
I'm also going to have to go to twice a week posting
. I have a 3 part buffer after this. The one after that I finally got some work done on but... I hope to bump it back up once I get this connected to what's already written. It's getting there...
. Will have to see what Beth says!
Thanks as always to Alisha and Beth!
*****
Chapter 31
*****
Clark's head had been leaned back against the top of the airline seat for the last two hours. He'd gripped Lois' hand tightly as they'd taken off from Metropolis International Airport and hadn't let go since. Unfortunately, it was almost time to eat. Clark wasn't sure he was going to be able to, but Lois would.
He was glad that the Planet had purchased their plane tickets but he was even more grateful that Lois had suggested splurging to upgrade to First Class. The extra room was nice – making him feel slightly less claustrophobic. One of the things they'd done the night before – or was it two nights ago now? – was balance their bank account. Even with all of the shopping they'd done, there hadn't even been a dent in their account. And that particular account only held some of the assets they now possessed. It was a weird feeling, knowing that as long as they weren't completely foolish, money was something that they'd never have to worry about again. It was difficult to flip that mental switch.
Oh, they weren't going to be buying yachts anytime soon, but the idea that they had to choose between either paying all their bills or Clark eating, even if it wasn't strictly necessary, was a thing of the past.
"Hey, I'm going to need my hand back," Lois said softly.
"I know. But can't I keep it for a little while longer?" Clark didn't open his eyes.
"Not right now."
"Why not?"
"Because this nice stewardess has our meal ready for us."
"Oh." He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at the young lady as he took the tray from her.
"Not a fan of flying, sir?"
He shook his head. "If men were supposed to fly, we'd have wings or something."
He heard Lois mutter 'or something' under her breath as she took her own dinner.
The stewardess chuckled. "You aren't the first one to say that and I'm sure you won't be the last, but if you can relax a bit, it'll help. Now, I certainly won't allow you to get *drunk* but maybe a glass of wine would help."
He shook his head. "No, thank you."
"Try it, Clark. It couldn’t hurt."
"Alcohol never has a relaxing affect on me. In fact, it rarely affects me at all." Though right now, Clark might give his left arm to be able to take the edge off with a glass of wine. Well, maybe not his left arm. That would entail removing his left hand and it finally had his dad's wedding band on it – put there by the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe his right arm. He could learn to write left-handed. "On second thought," he finally said, "why not?"
She handed him a wine list. "What would you like?"
"I'll trust your judgment."
"And for you, ma'am?"
"The same please." Lois smiled at her.
Clark waited until she left. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"What?"
"You're not 21."
"So? We're not in the U.S. anymore and I'm not going to get drunk. I won't let me and you won't let me and the stewardess won't let me." She looked at her chicken and then over at Clark's steak. "I'm not sure which looks better," she said, with nose upturned. "And how do you know alcohol rarely affects you at all?"
"Well, there was a party or two in high school. And poker nights have long necks and since I turned 21... Perry insisted that I at least try one. It doesn't affect me, but it's not bad-tasting."
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Why wouldn't you?" He shrugged. "I have a beer with the guys on poker night. One. Singular. Never more. I *can't* get drunk anyway and I guess I just figured you knew that there was beer there and that I might have one."
"Not a clue." She sighed. "And I want to be an investigative reporter."
"What? You're going to be a great investigative reporter."
"I didn't know the truth about you and Mayson, I thought *Paul* was nice, I thought Mayson was truly evil and Lana was nice enough. And I had no clue that you have a drink occasionally. You're my husband. Shouldn’t I know things like that?"
He took her hand. "Probably. And you do. But when have we ever really had a good reason to talk about this before?"
"Never, I guess." She looked up as the stewardess came back. "Thank you" she said as she accepted the glass.
Clark took his. He thanked her then turned back to Lois. "To be honest, I'm a bit surprised that you want to even try something like this."
Lois sighed. "I'm not my mother. And she always drank hard liquor. We're headed for Europe, where, I understand, it's much more common to have a glass of wine with dinner nearly every night or whatever so..." She took a sip and made a face. "It may be an acquired taste. Besides, I trust you to call me on it if I ever start to overdo it or start showing signs of an alcoholic."
"Believe me, I will."
"I know."
*****
They had to be nearing the mainland of Europe, Lois thought. They'd both finished their wine and most of their dinners. Even Clark. As soon as they were done, he'd taken her hand again and hadn't let go.
His breathing was even and his eyes closed. She thought he was asleep. Maybe she could slip off to the bathroom. She gently extricated her hand from his, but he stirred as she did so. She whispered to him, reassuring him that she'd be right back. He settled back into his pillow as she walked towards the front of the plane.
She returned shortly to find his hand tucked under the blanket that covered him. Deciding he'd be okay without holding on to her as long as he was asleep, she pulled the book on Greece out of her travel bag.
She couldn't concentrate on it. Her thoughts drifted to the notebooks she'd stashed in her underwear/pajama/swimsuit bag. Would she have the nerve to pull them out? To ask him the questions she'd written down over the years? Well, there were questions in there, but mostly it was diaries. Journals. Where she'd vented when she was angry or frustrated. Or hurt. Mostly hurt. She'd started the first one the night she came home sick to her stomach and sick at heart, pouring her heart out on the page, asking how he could betray her like that; that if it was sex he was after to talk to her and tell her that he couldn’t live without that anymore. That if that was what it would take to get him to stay, she would. Well, she thought she would have. The theory was one thing; when it came time to actually go through with it, she wasn't sure what she would have done.
Letting him read the fairy tales was one thing; these were something else entirely.
Not all of the questions were relevant anymore – the ones about Mayson and any other women there might have been. But others... others were. She'd worked on a list of them over the last several weeks, just in case she did have the guts to ask him about all of it. They were found on the last page.
But when would be the right time to bring all that up?
Not on the plane certainly. Or during their hour layover in Germany. Or while they were trying to get over their jetlag when they got to Greece. Or on the boat.
Would that be the right place?
Clark had mentioned that he requested a king room when they arrived in Greece, but on the ship... He'd said they'd tried to give them an 'outside premium stateroom', whatever that meant, but that it had two small, single beds. Perry had convinced them that two beds were unacceptable for the Daily Planet's newest – married – travel reporters. Apparently, he'd been quite persuasive and now, thanks to him and a late cancellation, they had been moved up to a balcony suite. They had their own private balcony – not a big one, but something.
This company was fairly new – at least to the Greek Isles cruise business – and they desperately wanted the coverage the Daily Planet could give them. They'd wanted them to wait a few weeks and go in one of the Imperial Suites – it had a Jacuzzi on the balcony – but were booked for some time to come. Perry said they'd find a different cruise line. They'd countered with the stateroom which he'd turned down as not good enough and they'd scrambled to find another way to get them on board and in nearly the best accommodations.
She was very glad she wouldn't be sleeping alone. Even though she wouldn't have been alone *alone*, she knew that proximity to Clark kept nightmares at bay. She wasn't sure what size bed they'd have on board, but she doubted it would be a king.
They'd shared her double bed once. That was too close for comfort at the time. They'd only been married a week or so and though she'd found that she liked falling asleep in his arms, having to roll over in place left something to be desired. And Clark was bigger than he had been then. She didn't think he was any taller, but he was definitely bulkier. Maybe it would be at least a queen sized bed. They'd never slept in anything but a king except that once.
As much as she needed him close to keep the dreams away, she wasn't looking forward to sleeping cramped. They'd discovered over the last few weeks that, even though Clark was almost always touching her in some way as they slept – more than he ever had before, as though he was aware, even in sleep, that she needed him – they used most of the bed. He'd told her that nearly every time he woke, he was holding her hand, had an arm thrown around her waist, their legs were touching or that they were holding each other in some form or fashion, or something. Usually, he'd said, even though they were touching, they sprawled. She'd noticed the same thing.
And as much as she needed him close, she needed room. Even if she didn't use it, she needed to know that she could have her own space if she needed or wanted it.
She sighed. There was no point in worrying about what she couldn't change. They'd make do with whatever they had. They always had. Though, she admitted mentally, usually that meant lack of funds not lack of bed space.
Would lying with Clark in bed on a cruise ship after a day of discovering ancient Greece, be the time to ask him if he would have really left her sitting with Perry White 36 hours after meeting the editor and after he'd accidentally given himself away? Or what he would have done if she'd thrown herself at him on any one of a dozen occasions? Maybe 'thrown herself' wasn't right. If she'd set out to seduce him. He wanted to be with her, he'd never made a secret of that, but he'd promised her he'd never push and he never had. But if *she* had pushed – even if she wasn't really ready – what would he have done?
Was that a fair question to ask him? Regardless of his promises, would it have been fair to him if she had walked into their bedroom one night when Lucy wasn't home wearing nothing but his dress shirt and expect him to realize that she was scared? That regardless of the brave front she was putting on, she wasn't ready for that?
Probably not. That wouldn’t be fair to any guy under just about any circumstances, but when it was the woman he loved, that he'd made no secret of his desire for, that was probably bordering on cruel.
She looked past Clark and out the window, noticing twinkling lights as they flew high over a small town of some sort. She wondered how much longer before they reached Germany. They'd only be there an hour, but maybe they'd come back now that they were officially travel correspondents.
She shoved her questions about the questions she'd ask Clark if the time was ever right and she ever got up the nerve to the back of her mind and, resting her head on his shoulder, willed herself to sleep. She woke when the wheels touched down on the tarmac.
*****
"Are you hungry?"
Lois shook her head. "Not really. I just want to get some real sleep."
"I don't think that's such a good idea just yet."
She glared at him. "We left Metropolis over twelve hours ago. It's been over 30 hours since we woke up yesterday and neither one of slept much, nor well, on the way here. Why shouldn't we get some sleep?"
Clark moved to open one of his suitcases. "Because. We have to board the ship at ten in the morning – no later than that if we want our interviews – and we sail at 1500. It's about two in the afternoon right now. If we go to sleep now, we'll be up at midnight. If we get settled in here, take a shower, or whatever, we can head over to the Planet's Athens office and meet the guy there. Maybe he can help us find an apartment. If so, great. If not, maybe he can have a few things lined up for us when we get back – places to look and stuff and we can drop the boxes we brought off wherever he wants us to. We can eat dinner and get back here and go to bed at eight or nine or so. That'll give us time to wind down and get a good night's sleep before leaving in the morning."
"I hate it when you make sense."
Clark grinned at her. "I'll hop in the shower while you get some clothes out. Be right back."
Lois kept glaring at him until he sped into the bathroom. She sighed and hefted two bags onto the dresser. She pulled clean undergarments out of one and a new pair of shorts and a shirt out of the other. By the time she finished that, Clark was standing there, freshly shaved and not looking like he'd spent the last thirty hours getting ready for an unexpectedly quick departure and then traveling in a 'metal tube'. She sighed and headed to take a shower.
*****
"It's good to meet you, John." Clark shook the man's hand. "This is my wife and partner, Lois Lane-Kent."
Lois shook the man's hand as well.
"It's nice to meet both of you. Your story has made it even to our little part of the world. At least," he conceded, "the Daily Planet corner of it. I'm looking forward to getting to know both of you." He gestured to the chairs across from his desk in the tiny office. "Have a seat." They did and he returned to his chair. "Perry called last week and said that you two would be coming and to do whatever I could to help you settle in. I asked around and there's an apartment available a couple of streets over from me. It's not a luxury penthouse or anything, but it's fairly affordable and probably something like what you want. It's a family home in central Athens and most of it's occupied by members of an extended Greek family. You'd be the only non-family members there. A friend of mine lived there a year or so ago and I called them on the off chance that it was available. They'll treat you like family."
"That sounds like exactly what we're looking for, doesn't it, honey?"
Lois nodded. "Affordable is good. Central is good. Family is good." She smiled at Clark. "Want to go see it?"
He nodded. "What do you think, John? Could we go over there? If we can get it settled before we sail tomorrow, it would be a load off of our minds for the next week."
John stood. "I told them we might be by tonight. I'm warning you, though, if YaYa likes you, we'll probably be there through dinner."
Lois yawned. "As long as I don't have to walk any more than necessary tonight, I'll be happy."
Their host laughed. "It's not far and I can point some things out to you on the way."
*****
Clark returned to the dim hotel room to find Lois lying under the covers. He'd dropped everything they didn't need for the cruise off at their new apartment.
YaYa had loved them, and as promised by John, had fed them dinner. The apartment was perfect. Not as big as the one they'd left behind in Metropolis, it was recently renovated with a full eat-in kitchen – though, they'd been told, they were always welcome to dine with the family; just let them know – a living room, very nice bathroom and a bedroom with a king size bed.
He'd packed up several boxes the day before with things like the quilt his grandmother had made for his parents when they got married; his favorite poncho liner – how he'd managed to forget he had that was beyond him; pictures that they'd use to decorate their new home – Perry and Alice, Lucy and Jimmy, the two of them, Aunt Louise, his parents, none of Lana or even the rest of the Langs; some books, things of that nature. He was glad the Planet had agreed to pay for half their extra luggage charges. From now on, maybe he'd manage to take care of it under the cover of night, flying their things places themselves, or leaving most of it behind with a friend – like John – and having them ship the boxes via Fed Ex or something. Regardless, everything they weren't taking was now at their new apartment waiting for them on their return from the cruise.
"Hey," Lois said quietly.
"I thought you were asleep."
"Almost." She pushed herself up to a seated position. "Get it all over there okay?"
"Yep. And YaYa sent breakfast."
"I think I’m going to like living there."
"Me, too." He sped around the room, changing clothes as he went then laid down with a big yawn. "I don't know about you, but I'm wiped out."
She laid back down. "You mean you're finally going to let me get some sleep?"
A soft snore was her only answer.
*****
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Clark moved next to her, resting his forearms on the railing of their small, but private, balcony.
"Yeah, it is." The wind whipped through Lois' hair as she stared out over the Greecian waters. "It's so... blue."
He laughed softly. "Blue it is." They stared over the waters for a few more minutes. "Got the first part of our article written yet?"
"We've been on board for a few hours and you want to know if I've got the article already written?"
"Well?"
She sighed then smiled at him. "I have a rough draft of the beginning of it in my head."
"That's my girl."
"It was great of Perry to finagle us a portable computer."
"I don't think it was Perry's doing. I think Stern had a lot to do with it. You know – his whole 'cutting edge' technology thing. We're the first long term travel correspondents, or whatever they're calling us, doing something like we are – at least in a long time. Most of the travel pieces in recent years haven't been by people who were actually doing nothing but *traveling*. Stern thought we'd be a good 'test case' for it. If it works well for us, he's talking about getting a few that can be checked out for out of town assignments. He even set it up with a modem we can use from any phone line and *email* to send Perry our stories."
"Will Perry know how to check to see if we've emailed him a story?"
"Probably not," Clark conceded. "But Jimmy can show him."
"More like he'll have Jimmy print it for him."
"Probably."
"Before you know it, everyone will have their own laptop."
He laughed. "Not in this century."
"Maybe not, but Jimmy swears it's the wave of the future."
"What does Jimmy know?"
"More than you'd think. He's a whiz at computer stuff."
"Well, at least we won't have worry about overnighting our stories."
"Just remember to go slow when you type because you almost burned up that keyboard at school. And I doubt Stern would be too happy about you ruining the first laptop he bought for reporters."
"I'll be careful." They gazed out over the open water for a few more minutes before he spoke again. "I'm going to type up our notes from our interviews this morning. It's almost time to get ready for dinner."
Lois nodded. "I'll get ready while you do that."
Clark moved to the table and set up the laptop. Jimmy had given him a crash course on how to use it the day before. He only hoped he remembered what he'd been told. He waited until he was prompted and then opened the word processing program. He typed up their interview notes with the ship's captain as well as the ones from their private tour of the ship arranged by the cruise line's PR department. He working on their notes from their talk with the steward assigned to their cabin, when Lois emerged from the bathroom.
"All done?"
She nodded, wrapped from head to toe in a new robe and toweling her hair as she did. "Your turn." She smiled at him. "The long, hot shower was nice."
"I bet. I think I'm going to take one of those, too," he said letting her know without spelling it out that she could get dressed without worrying about him walking in on her.
She pulled on a new pair of tan slacks and a new blouse, then sat down to finish typing up the notes Clark had started.
She looked up when he emerged from the bathroom. "Very Eddie Bauer," she said with a smile.
"There's a reason for that, you know."
"You bought those clothes at Eddie Bauer."
"Yep. Today is Eddie Bauer day, tomorrow Abercrombie and Fitch... the day after that... who knows."
Lois laughed. "Isn't it kind of pathetic that we know what store all of our clothes came from without looking at the tags?"
"Give us a couple months. Right now, everything is new."
She typed a couple more words in and sat back. "Do you know how we're supposed to shut this thing down?"
He showed her what Jimmy had shown him. "We'll write up the first part of the article tonight. Wouldn't Perry absolutely have puppies if he had the first part of something for a teaser in this weekend's edition? And tonight here, is this afternoon there. If we can get it to him by midnight here..."
"That's five there. When is he supposed to start looking for emails from us?"
"Jimmy's on email detail, I'm sure. And since it means he gets to play with electronics, he's probably already checked it twice today and it's only ten a.m. or so there." He pulled his shoes on and tied them. "You ready to go?"
"Just let me put my shoes on and we'll go paint the boat red." He gave her a look. "Or something like that anyway."
*****
Clark leaned towards Lois and spoke quietly, so only she could hear. "You're free to say no if it makes you uncomfortable, but would you like to dance?"
Lois looked around her. Dinner was over for most of their shipmates and several couples were out on the dance floor. "Are you going to teach me to tush push?"
Clark laughed. "Not tonight. They do have dance lessons as one of the onboard things we can do. That might be fun. What do you say? Will you dance with me?"
She paused for a second then nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."
He stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and followed him as he walked to the dance floor.
He rested one hand on her waist and held one of hers in the other. He was careful to let her dictate the distance between them, glad that, even though she wasn't extra close to him, she wasn't extra far away.
"You know, we haven't danced since The Blue Note."
"It's nice."
He noticed that her heart rate increased and he didn't think that it was just from the slight physical exertion. Was that from... fear for lack of a better term, about being close to him? They were much closer at night, but that was for sleep. Specifically and she knew that. Was it because dancing was often part of romance? She'd told him on the plane, as they spoke quietly while many around them were sleeping, that she still wasn't ready for overt romance at all. If they weren't married, dinner and dancing would probably be considered a date. Since they were... dinner was a part of their life together and this particular dinner location happened to have a dance floor. Was she afraid that he might take dancing with her the wrong way?
Or was it something else?
Her heart rate had gone up the first time they'd danced together, too. Then, he'd been sure, that it was because she was at least somewhat attracted to him, even if she wasn't ready to act on that attraction.
Could that be what it was?
Attraction?
His musings were interrupted by a man with a thick Greek accent. "May I please cut in? Mrs. Kent was kind enough to promise me a dance."
He turned and smiled. "Of course, Captain."
"You will have to keep an eye on this one," the older man said with a smile. "There are many men here who would give their left arm for such a beautiful and gracious woman."
"Believe me, I intend to keep a close eye on her." He caught Lois' eye and smiled again. She smiled back, letting him know – even though he already knew – that he had nothing to worry about.
He handed Lois off to the captain of the ship. He reminded him a lot of Perry in many ways and he smiled as he dipped Lois deeply. She was laughing as he pulled her back up and towards him. Her heart rate had slowed a bit, even with the extra effort and more lively dancing she was doing with him, so he must be part of the reason for it. Good, or bad, he wasn't sure.
He moved back to the table and sat, watching as the captain twirled her around. He started to stand, to claim the next dance with her when another of the ship's officers claimed her. They'd met both the captain and this man earlier during their interviews and he'd seemed nice enough.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed a tall, older man watching them – one that looked slightly familiar. He took another sip of his wine and catching her eye again, motioned that he was going to visit the restroom, determined to be back before the next dance started.
He hadn't counted on the line at the nearest men's room. When did men's rooms have lines?
The next dance had started before he returned. Sure enough, the man he'd noticed earlier was dancing with Lois and holding her more than a bit too close for comfort.
And she was scared.
He knew she was. Her heart was racing and he could see her searching with her eyes for him.
He strode purposefully towards the dance floor, smiling at one passenger he'd met earlier and telling him that they would speak later or the next day, because he wanted to claim another dance with his wife.
He tapped the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I believe I'd like to cut in."
The man didn't release Lois but turned to look at him. "Ah, but I am dancing with the lovely lady," he said with a light accent.
"Look, Mr...."
"Winninger. Vincent Winninger," he supplied.
"Mr. Winninger, I'd like to dance with my wife, if you don't mind." Clark moved closer to them. He was slightly shorter than the older man, but even if he hadn't been Kryptonian, he would have been stronger. He'd heard of Winninger. He was a scientist or something and had a reputation as a lady's man.
"Ah, but I do. You get to dance nearly every dance with this woman, the least you can do is allow a poor fellow like me to finish one whole dance with her."
They were starting to attract attention, which he knew was the last thing Lois would want.
"Mr. Winninger," Lois said as forcefully as she was able, and with a smile even. "I would like to dance with my husband, please."
He finally stepped back and released her. "My dear, it has been a pleasure." He leaned low and kissed the back of her hand before finally letting go all together.
Lois unobtrusively wiped her hand on her slacks before moving into Clark's arms, definitely closer than she had been before.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"Where were you?"
"Line at the men's room. I’m sorry it took me so long."
The song ended.
"Can we go now, Clark? Please?"
"Of course."
He held onto her hand and led her as they weaved through the tables to one of the exits. They stepped onto a walkway open to the sea. Lois shivered slightly, from the breeze or Winninger, he didn't know, but he wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him.
"Are you okay?"
"I don’t like him, Clark, and we're going to spend the next seven days on a ship with him."
"I'll stay close. I promise."
"Thank you."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about though. He's never gone for married women."
"What? Who?"
"Winninger. I remember reading about him. He has a reputation as a lady's man, but he's always said that married women are off limits."
"Well, that's sweet of him," she said sarcastically.
He pulled her a little closer. "I'm here."
"I know. And I knew you were there somewhere and would be back soon. He seemed nice enough but he held me closer than I was comfortable with. I couldn't get away from him. It wasn't that I really thought he was going to hurt me or whatever, but he was there and I couldn't get away and you weren't there and..." Tears started to fall. "I was trapped and you weren't there and..."
He stopped and wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I’m here."
She sobbed for a few more minutes before finally whispering, "Please take me to our cabin, Clark."
"Of course," he whispered back, picking her up as he did so.
In mere minutes, their door shut behind them and she felt safe again.
*****
TBC
Below are some of the sources I used for the cruise, etc. These are jumping off points for me and the events depicted here may or may not have anything to do with the actual cruise you could get with this line
. Same with the apartments - their's is an amalgam.
Cruise source Cruise Source Apartment Source Apartment Source Apartment Source Clark\'s Poncho Liner [These rock, btw. DH's best friend is a former Marine and gave me a
Woodland Camo one. DH stole it from me several years ago and gave me one like Clark's for our anniversary last month. I absolutely adore them. Great in winter or summer.]
1988 Laptop Email History I'm going with the idea that Franklin Stern is cutting edge on technology. At the end of S1, he wants to talk to Perry about modernization. At the beginning of S2, Lois is trying to figure out how to get emails and faxes because they just upgraded everything as they reopened. So here, Stern is cutting edge
. Go with it.
