Sorry this is a day late getting up. I actually had a muse for part of the day yesterday
. If I can get another section done today, I'll try to post three times next week. So tune in Monday for Ch. 33 and next week's schedule
.
Clark\'s Graduation Tie [My mom made this for my dad - probably in the 70s. He still wears it on occasion - though my new stepmom is less than enthralled with it.]
Thanks as always to Beth and Alisha. And thanks especially to Beth for helping me hammer out the rest of the timeline - or not so much the timeline but the events inbetween the events that were already on the timeline. Or something like that
. She knows what I'm talking about *g*.
*****
Chapter 32
*****
Lois yawned and rolled over, moving closer to Clark. He was still asleep, but he reached for her nonetheless. Feeling safe in his embrace she closed her eyes and tried to remember what the schedule for the day was.
She couldn't. They were arriving in Turkey at some point today, but she couldn't remember when.
After Clark had carried her to their cabin the night before, she'd fled to the shower again. She emerged to find her robe just inside the door. Clark must have cracked it and put it inside for her. He'd waited on the balcony, staring out over the water, while she got dressed.
She'd sat on the sofa while Clark set up the computer on the table. Together, they'd worked out a draft of the first part of their article then took a bit of a break to stare at the stars off their balcony. Clark said it was a lot like Smallville – no city lights or smog to get in the way.
They went back inside after letting their copy percolate for a bit and Lois made some edits to their teaser article. Clark went through his mental checklist from Jimmy and to send it via email to Perry. Then they'd realized that they didn't have a phone line and it would have to wait until they docked the next day. The cruise lines' PR people had said they'd have access to their phones whenever they were docked.
And then she'd crawled straight into bed. It hadn't been long before Clark joined her and he'd held her close to him as she fell asleep – exactly what she'd needed.
The bed was a queen size and, while it hadn't been too bad the night before, she was afraid that she'd end up feeling cramped at some point. Clark had mentioned it and offered to sleep floating if that would help. She'd said she'd let him know.
After he'd told her who Vincent Winninger was, she'd searched her memory. She remembered seeing him on one of those entertainment shows that Lucy liked to watch from time to time. He'd laughed and admitted that his weakness was women but when they'd asked him about a particular married woman, he said that they were off limits. That gave her a bit of relief.
She sighed and gently extricated herself from Clark's arms, deciding it was time to get her day started.
*****
Clark woke as she moved off the bed and headed for the bathroom. From where he was laying he could see her, a few minutes later, move to the balcony. He watched her contemplatively as she stared over the water.
A picture came to his mind unbidden.
Lois, standing there, on the railing, hair blowing – much like what he was actually seeing – but instead of wearing pajama pants and a T-shirt, she was wearing one of his dress shirts. A white one. And precious little else.
He'd meant what he said – Lana in his shirt was disturbing – but Lois... Lois was another story all together.
He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, groaning as he did so.
She must have heard him, because seconds later, she was watching him. "Hey. What's wrong?"
He left his hands on his face for a few more seconds. "Nothing. Just don't really want to wake up." He lowered them to see her leaning against the frame of the opening that separated their bedroom from the sitting area. He rolled to the side of the bed away from where she was standing and towards the bathroom. "I'm going to hop in the shower, unless you want to go first."
"No, go ahead."
He gathered a few things in a blur and then closed the bathroom door behind him.
Yesterday's shower had been a long, hot one. This morning's would be cold.
*****
Lois was wearing one of her new swimsuits when he emerged from the bathroom. She'd pulled a pair of shorts on and was in the process of putting a shirt on over the top of it.
Lois in a swim suit. That would help.
Most days he was fine. Yes, it was nearly always in the back of his mind that she was beautiful and that he'd love to be able to kiss her and hold her and... he couldn't let his mind go *there*. But most days... He'd long since resigned himself to their platonic marriage – even before the last month and a half happened. And if they *had* been doing those sorts of things, it was likely they wouldn't be at the moment or for a while to come – not with what happened to her. It had taken Maggie a year, after all, and she'd loved Wayne and had been waiting for their wedding night for years, even if they hadn't been officially a couple the whole time. At least he'd had years to get used to this part of his life.
So why was it so difficult today?
He sighed as he looked for a pair of sandals to wear.
"Are you okay?" She tossed her sunscreen in a beach bag as she spoke.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He wasn't, but he couldn't tell her what was really going through his mind. Maybe later, if she asked again, once the moment had passed, he'd tell her. But to tell her that right now, he wanted nothing more than to throw her on the bed and have his way with her would completely freak her out. And, yes, that was what he wanted at the moment, but there was no way he'd actually act on it. He was sure she knew that, but there was no reason to scare her.
He sighed again. And he couldn’t even go play with his favorite killer whales at the moment.
*****
She was already in bed as he stared out over the water. He stood for a long time contemplating the waves that made their way onto the shore at Istanbul. So the waves he was watching were several miles away. That wasn't the point.
They'd eaten breakfast and then explored the ship some more, making it to the pool for a couple hours before lunch. Lois had mainly soaked up the sun while reading one of the books that she'd brought. Clark had tried to sleep and avoid staring at her.
He'd mentally castigated himself. Sure, she was his wife. Sure, he was – in theory – allowed to stare at her and he'd even caught her ogling him a time or two when she didn't think he was looking. He was objective enough to know that he was well-built; that many men would work out several hours a day to have the physique that was his birthright as a member of a now-defunct planet. It was nice to know that he did have some effect on her.
But this wasn't a 'normal' marriage – whatever that was.
As much as he wanted their marriage to move to that step eventually, he wouldn't – couldn't – push her for that. Not when two days earlier – was it only two days before that they'd been in that small metal tube flying across the Atlantic? – she'd told him that romance wasn't what she wanted or needed and 99% of the time, that wasn't a problem.
Today, however, for whatever reason, was part of that other 1%.
Small waves slapped the side of the ship and were suddenly immensely interesting.
They'd eaten lunch and Lois had gone to take a nap while Clark sat on deck and talked with one of the passengers he'd met the night before. He'd interviewed him officially, as well as a couple of other passengers, for their article. He'd typed up their notes while Lois still slept, curled up on their bed on top of the covers. She still wore her shorts, but she'd burned a bit and had taken off the shirt she wore over the top of her suit as it was irritating her reddened shoulders. He dug through his bag and pulled out the poncho liner he was glad he'd had the foresight to bring. It shouldn't irritate her skin and he'd covered her gently with it.
They'd docked at three in the afternoon local time. There had been enough time to connect the computer to the phone line in the cruise lines' offices and email their story and notes to Perry. It was early morning Saturday in Metropolis and they had no way of knowing if he'd get it today or not. They'd check their email when they got back. The computer itself went into the office safe.
They'd spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Istanbul with a tour group, eating at an authentic Turkish restaurant before returning to the ship, having collected their computer and receiving an email from Jimmy saying that they'd gotten the articles and Perry was ecstatic. Clark had typed up their notes from the afternoon while Lois took a shower and went to get some Aloe Vera – somehow they'd managed to forget to pack that.
The day had taken a lot out of her and now she was dozing under his poncho liner, thankfully wearing an old T-shirt, worn and washed so many times that it was soft enough not to bother her skin, instead of her swimsuit top. That it was one of his was something he tried to ignore.
He glanced at the clock. He'd better get some rest too. They were in Istanbul until right before dinner the next evening and he was sure they were going to be very busy seeing the ancient city.
He sighed once more before going back inside and pulling the covers back, climbing underneath them rather than on top with his wife.
"Clark," she said quietly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered.
He saw her wince as she rolled to face him and the shirt rubbed her sunburn the wrong way. Then he saw the tears that filled her eyes. "I don't believe you. You've been acting weird all day."
He tried to smile at her. "It's nothing. Really."
"That means it really is something." She bit her bottom lip and seemed to be contemplating whether to go on or not. When she spoke again, the words piled on top of each other. "Do you not trust me? Or what? Is it me? Is it something I..."
He stopped her with a finger on her lips. "No. It's not that at all." He closed his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath as he did so. "It's just not something I really want to bother you with."
"What could possibly be wrong that you wouldn't want to tell me about?" He could see the wheels turning in her mind. Then her eyes closed and a tear leaked out of each side. "Did you meet someone else today?"
*That* was what she thought? Of course, that was the first conclusion she'd come to if something was bothering him. It was always what had happened with Sam. He'd suspected that though her head was starting to believe he wasn't leaving, her heart needed quite a bit more time.
Those thoughts flitted through his head in seconds before he reached his hand back out to cradle her face, wiping her tears with his thumb. "No. Lois, there isn't anyone else, there never has been. There never will be," he told her gently. "And deep down, I think you know that."
She didn't move.
"Okay, maybe way, way deep down, but somewhere inside, you know it's true."
She finally nodded slightly. It was another minute before she found her voice again. "Then what is it?"
He sighed and sat up, moving back until he rested against the headboard. "It's just about the exact opposite."
She moved next to, but not touching, him. "What does that mean?"
He pulled his knees up and stared at his hands as he rested his forearms on his legs. "Do you have any idea when the last time I saw you in a swim suit was?"
She shook her head.
"Camp. When I was fourteen. Almost exactly eight years ago."
"I don't get it."
"You know I love you. You know I want to be with you someday. You know I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world even if I haven't said it nearly enough, and..." he shook his head slightly, "...you look great in a swim suit. Really great. That's all." He still refused to look at her.
"Oh."
"Most of the time, it's not a big deal. You're a beautiful woman and even when you were wearing old clothes that were two sizes too big, you looked gorgeous. Now that you have clothes that fit properly and swimsuits that show a lot more skin than I've seen in a long time... it was just a... difficult day. That's all."
"Oh." She said it even more quietly this time.
He noticed that she pulled her legs to her and hugged them tightly.
"Does that bother you?" he asked just as quietly.
She shrugged and pulled her poncho liner blanket closer around her. "I don't know."
Sure. She didn't know. That's why she was hiding under the blanket. Not that he really blamed her. Maybe he should call her on it. "Now I don't think I believe you. I think it does bother you, doesn't it?"
"Some." He barely heard her.
"And that's why I didn't want to tell you." He reached out until his hand rested behind her neck and he gently ran his thumb up and down from the bottom of her hairline to the neckline of her shirt a few inches below. "I know you're not ready for that and I still have no intention of pushing you for anything you're not ready for."
"What makes today different? Besides the swimsuit, I mean."
A half-smile crept across his face. "I can't go play with my favorite pod of Orcas."
"What?"
"Especially that first year or so, I spent a fair bit of time on an iceberg or two in the North Atlantic. I got to know a pod of killer whales."
"Oh." He saw the blanket tighten around her a little bit more. "You actually know whales?" she finally said.
"A few."
"When was the last time you went?"
"It's been a while." Well, as long as he was confessing all... "The last time I actually saw the whales was after Aunt Louise died."
"What?"
"Yeah. After we got to Texas and I dropped you off..."
"You said you had an errand to run."
"That wasn't technically accurate." He moved his hand from behind her and ran it through his hair. "It had been a very long time since I'd been that close to you for that long, unless we were going to sleep. I hated myself for it, you know; that two days after our closest relative died, I couldn’t control my hormones. So I went to the North Atlantic and sat on an iceberg for a while. They were there. One of the adolescent males kept eyeing me, wanting me to swim with them, but I didn't feel like it that day. I'm not sure when the last time I did that was."
She was silent for a minute. "Kryptonian version of a cold shower?" she eventually asked.
"Something like that. Swimming with them also gave me something else to think about."
"I'm sorry." It was barely a whisper.
He shrugged. "It's okay. I knew going into this that some days would be more difficult than others. And it's been a long time since I had a day like this." He finally turned to look at her. "I promise. Today's been... more... awkward than most. That's all."
*****
This was her chance. She knew that.
He'd surprised her with the reason why he'd been distant and weird today. She'd tried not to stare at him at the pool, but he'd looked good, too. Really good. She'd found herself watching him sleep from behind her dark sunglasses.
She hadn't even thought that he might be doing the same thing.
Did it make her incredibly uncomfortable?
Yes.
Did it make her feel good at the same time?
Yes. Not as emphatically, but yes.
She took a deep breath and spoke.
*****
"Do you ever think about that night?"
He wasn't sure what he expected her to say, but that wasn't it. "Which night?" Their wedding night? That night in Colorado when she kissed him?
"When you came into the conference room." She stared at the desert camouflage pattern on the blanket.
"When I came into..." He wasn't sure what she was referring to. "When Paul was..." He didn't finish the sentence. He couldn't. On the off chance that that wasn't what she was talking about...
"Yeah."
"Sometimes. I wonder what I could have done to get there sooner. I wonder what would have happened if I'd hit him harder. I try not to imagine what you must have gone through because it breaks my heart to think about what he did to you."
"Not that." She pulled her legs even closer, making herself even smaller, if that was possible.
"Then what?"
"I was..." She took a deep breath. "He'd practically stripped..." She bit her lip for a minute. "You saw..." She couldn't continue.
"You?" He filled in the blank.
"Yeah." Another tear made its way down her cheek.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I did."
"Do you think about that?" The tears came faster.
"Do you mean do I see the whole scene in my head and wonder what it might be like to deck him instead of tackle him or do I focus in on the part where you were nearly naked and try to remember what I saw?"
She could only nod.
"No. I don't. Have I been tempted a time or two? Yeah, but I have never intentionally tried to remember what I saw. I want to be completely honest with you and I need you to believe me." There was no response, so he took a deep breath and continued. "It's flashed before me a time or two and as soon as I realized it... I made it go away and focused on something else instead. When I see that in my head I focus on him and each time I try to imagine a different way I could make him wish he was dead for what he did to all those other women, but most especially to you. To intentionally focus on the part where it's the first time I saw my wife without clothes... that's an invasion of your privacy and I wouldn't dream of doing that. You were violated enough that night and I have no desire to add to it."
"Thank you," she whispered.
He put his hand back out, touching her shoulder and exerted light pressure. If she came willingly, he'd try to erase some of that heartache.
She did.
He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her while she cried.
Long minutes later, he spoke. "You've been wanting to ask me that for a while, haven't you?"
She nodded against his chest.
"Did you think that I'd dwell on it?"
"I wondered." She pulled away from him and moved to sit back on the bed, but still next to him, with his arm around her keeping her close to his side. "I wasn't really sure. I mean, I’m your wife. You're supposed to be allowed to see me... like that."
"Yeah," he said slowly. "I suppose you could look at it that way, but that's not how I see it." He realized how that must have sounded. "That's not what I meant. I just mean that when you're ready for me to see you like that, then it'll be okay, not before. It's *your* body and *you* should be the only one to decide who gets to see it and when."
They sat there for a few more minutes after that, her head still resting against him, her body leaning towards his. This was... normal, comfortable, not a reminder of how unconventional they were like the rest of the day had been.
"Is there anything else you've been wanting to ask me about?" he asked, sensing that there might be.
She shrugged.
"I'll take that as a yes. Do you want to ask me something else now?"
She was silent for a minute as though trying to decide if it was a topic she wanted to broach. "Would you have left me there?"
"Where? With *him*? Never!" How could she even think that?!
"No!" she interrupted forcefully.
Well, that was good. At least she didn't think he'd have left her there, in the conference room, once he had any idea what was going on.
"I know you wouldn't have left me there. I meant at Perry and Alice's."
"When?"
"That night – after Perry caught you building the fire."
"Why would I have left you there?" What was she talking about? Why wouldn't he have stayed with her?
"You said that you knew you could trust Perry – he has that reputation for a reason – and that if he said he wouldn't print something, he wouldn't. When I asked what you'd have done if he hadn't promised not to print, you said you probably would have left."
"I think I probably would have. I don't know what other choice I would have had."
"Would you have left me there?"
"You mean would I have left, by myself, after Perry saw me do that?" he asked slowly trying to make sure he understood the question.
She nodded.
"No. At least I don't think so. I think I would have woken you up and told you that we had to leave and I'd explain later and gotten us both out of there as fast as we could. You thought I might have left you there to face Perry – Perry *White*, editor of the Daily Planet – by yourself after that?"
She shrugged. "You said *you* probably would have left. You didn't say anything about me."
"And you asked me about this when you were sure I was having an affair and that I was going to leave you just like everyone else had," he said, beginning to understand.
She nodded again.
He pulled her a little closer and kissed her hair. "I had no idea you thought that or that you could have taken what I said that way or I would have explained it better. Is that a good enough answer?"
"Yes, it is. And..." She took a deep breath of her own. "...I don't know that you could have convinced me otherwise at the time."
"In Colorado?"
"Yeah. At the time, I was convinced that when you left to go help, that you went to go see Mayson for at least part of it."
"I didn't even know her yet."
"I wasn't sure I believed you about that."
"Why not?"
"The day you met her... I was close enough that you should have been able to hear my heartbeat but you didn't even know I was there. You'd told me that unless you were really concentrating on something, it was just automatic."
"But it's also if it's too loud – like the cafeteria can be."
"I conveniently forgot that part."
At least she could admit that. He'd understood why she'd been easily predisposed to believe that he could be having an affair, but he'd never really understood the... logistics? That wasn't the right word but it was the only one coming to him. The logistics of his supposed affair. Okay, he ate lunch with Mayson – and others – but he obviously wasn't having sex with her in the middle of the cafeteria. So when was that supposed to have happened? Did he really want to ask that? Maybe he'd just keep wondering for now. Maybe someday he'd ask, but not now. He didn't want to get into all of that unless she brought it up.
But today, at least, she could admit that part of the reason why she'd thought he was totally engrossed in Mayson was because he hadn't known she was there, hadn't picked up on her heartbeat like he'd told her always happened.
"I thought she took that from me." Her voice was small.
"Took what from you, honey?"
"My heartbeat. You'd said I was the only one that you tuned into automatically and I thought she took that from me. That her heartbeat was the one that came automatically after that."
"No, that's always been you. Only you."
"Why is that, do you think?"
"Well," he said slowly, "I think you're my soul mate. I think that there is one person in this world for me and that's you."
"Why is that, do you think?"
"That you're the only one for me?"
She nodded.
"I don't know. I just know that you are."
She thought about that for a minute. "Purely hypothetical question..."
"Okay."
"And you don't have to be too vehement with your answer, no matter what it is."
"Okay."
"What if something happened to me? I mean, I hope nothing does, but if something were to happen to me and I wasn't here anymore... do you think you would find someone else?"
Clark exhaled slowly. "Well, first, I pray nothing happens to you until we're old and gray."
"But if something did. Say five years from now. You're not even thirty yet at that point. Would you live the rest of your life alone? And please, be honest with me."
"I don't know," he said as honestly as he could. "I really don't know. Could there be someone else out there for me? I don't believe that there's another soul mate for me – you're it, baby."
"Baby?" He could see her wrinkle her nose.
"It fit."
"Could you find someone else to be happy with though?"
"I don't know."
"I don't think I want you to spend the rest of your life alone, but I’m not sure I really like the idea of you with anyone else, even if I’m gone."
"I'd rather just not think about it."
"I know but..."
"I don’t think I could ever love anyone like I love you, but I guess it's *possible* that I could find someone to be happy with, even if it's not like what I have with you. I don't think I could be as happy with someone else as I think we can be together."
"Will you promise me something?"
"Of course."
"If something happens to me, don’t stay single just because. Find someone who can make you happy."
"I promise I won't be closed to the possibility, how's that?"
"Okay. But one more thing."
"Anything." Clark pulled her a bit closer.
"Don't be happy with Mayson or Lana."
He chuckled. "Don't worry."
"I mean, out of the two, I'd prefer Mayson if they were the last two women on earth, but really... I'd prefer neither."
"Me, too. Believe me, if Lana *was* the last woman on earth, it wouldn't happen. After everything that's happened, I can't believe I went out with her in high school." He shuddered. "If I'd stayed in Smallville, I can't imagine what would have happened."
"She would have been after you until she got you," Lois said quietly.
"Once I met you, I don't think that would have happened. I knew at fourteen. But it probably wouldn't have been pretty until I managed to get to Metropolis."
They sat in silence for a few more minutes. "Anything else, honey?" He could feel that there was something more on her mind.
"Maybe."
"But?"
"Maybe that's enough for tonight."
"Maybe," he repeated. "But we're already here, we're already talking, we're already being honest with each other, is there something else you want to talk about?"
He wasn't sure he wanted to wait to talk about whatever else was on her mind. They'd done the whole 'tell each other something' most days, but most days it wasn't anything too deep. Funny childhood anecdote or something that happened that day – things like that most of the time. Deep conversations didn't happen all that often still, but they were making progress.
"Yeah, I guess." She shifted, seeming uncomfortable.
"Would you rather move somewhere else?" He kissed her hair again. "You might be more comfortable?"
She nodded.
"On the balcony? I think it's late enough that no one else should be around – and I can keep an ear out."
"Yeah. That sounds good." She scooted away from him and he felt the loss of having her close.
He followed and took the two folding chairs that were stashed in their closet for just such an occasion to their balcony. It was small – not much room for anything but the two chairs – but they could sit and watch the lights of Istanbul. He was glad they were on the water side of the ship rather than the dock side. She'd taken the blanket with her and pulled her legs up on to the chair and huddled underneath it.
He set up one chair and waited for Lois to have a seat and then set up one for himself.
"What else do you want to talk about?" he asked gently.
"Something Cat said to me while you were talking to Perry the other day."
"What's that?"
"She said that even though what happened, happened to me in that I was the one that he attacked, but that I shouldn't forget that you were affected to. Maybe not like I was or not to the same extent, but that it's affected you too."
He waited for her to go on.
"So..." She took a deep breath. "...how are you?"
*****
TBC
