Wow! So that caught you guys off-guard huh?
Most of that - and part of this section as well as parts of the low 90s - have been written for a long time.
I keep forgetting to thank Queenie because even though she's not reading right now, she's been an invaluable help to me.
I know several of you have said you want to see more Christopher - and you will - but even though he's a major force in the story, he tends to be behind the scenes. But I did just write a whole scene with just him and... someone
and now that he's a bit older and can do stuff, he'll get a bit more 'screen time' but don't expect him to be front and center all the time or anything.
Thanks - as always - to my wonderful betas - Nancy, Beth and Alisha!
And now the fallout begins...
Last time:
Clark
I sat up, kneeling with one knee on either side of her upper thighs as my other hand slipped under the other side of her gown, along her other thigh, over her other hip and the other side of her waist, until the satin was bunched around her ribs. I put my hands on the mattress, one on either side of her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her softly.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded before she kissed me again. "Make me forget," she whispered.
I wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her to me until we were both sitting up. My hands slid up her sides again as we kissed and this time they didn't stop until the gown was over her head and thrown to the side. I kissed her again as I pushed her gently onto her back and followed her onto the bed.
I rolled onto my side and ran my fingers over her stomach, pulling back from her slightly. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip as my eyes trailed over the rest of her body.
My breath caught in my throat as I got a good look at her.
She seemed nervous and I could imagine why. She'd nursed CJ for nearly a year and there were stretch marks all over her abdomen, but I barely noticed any of that. All I noticed was the whole package, but I was sure she was cataloging what she perceived as her flaws.
"You're beautiful," I whispered as I kiss her again lightly before I moved on to her chin, her neck, her earlobe, that scar, the mole on the swell of her breast and other... more interesting places and she kissed and nibbled whatever was closest to her – my face, my neck, my shoulder, my arm.
The last remaining rational thoughts fled at the feel of her skin under my lips, her lips on my skin, her body warm against mine. I didn't know how long it lasted, but for a long time, the only thing in my universe was the brunette whirlwind who was my wife.
*~*88*~*
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
I knew I'd fallen asleep almost immediately after Clark and I...
I wanted to say 'made love for the first time', but I didn't think that's what it was for him. I had poured everything I felt for him into it, knowing that – just this once – I could and not truly be held accountable for my actions. I could blame it on emotions or that it was the first time I remembered being with a man – even though I already had a son – and I wanted to pretend I was with the love of my life, some nameless, faceless man who became Clark, if only for that moment in time. I'd started as the aggressor, but it wasn't very long before Clark had taken the initiative. I wasn't sure what to make of that and I wasn't going to dwell on it because I was sure the conclusion I'd come to was that his mind had been fully on another woman.
And technically, I hadn't fallen asleep after the *first* time because there had been more than one time. After the first time, we'd laid in each other's arms. Clark had started the conversation by saying 'wow'. I'd agreed and he'd surprised me by saying the only thing he'd like more would be more.
I guessed he just wanted another chance to imagine what being with Lana was like. The second time, though, he'd used some of his special abilities and we'd wound up on the ceiling as we... I sighed. Made love. That's what it had been for me, even if it wasn't for him. He'd continued to hold me in his arms as he floated us back to the bed and while resting on his chest, his arms around me, legs intertwined, I'd fallen asleep while hoping that he'd actually been with me and not imagining Lana.
At least, he hadn't called out her name in the throes of passion.
I mentally rolled my eyes at the dime store novel line. It was something that might find its way into next year's NaNoWriMo project.
I thanked my lucky stars for that. Even after he'd told me I was beautiful – something I *really* hadn't expected – I was sure that he was pretending I was someone else and I hated that. I knew I'd told him that I didn't care if he imagined Lana instead of me, but the thought that he might have absolutely broke my heart.
It was still early and Clark was still asleep and I was still in his arms, our legs twined together. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing even, staying as still as I possibly could. This was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. In the arms of the man I loved. If only he'd love me too...
I struggled valiantly to keep the tears from coming and managed somehow to keep them in. I didn't want to wake Clark up by crying all over his chest.
I stayed still in his arms and the dream I had while we nearly died from hypothermia came back to me.
Clark.
Me.
The fireplace.
Kissing him.
Kissing me.
The ragged scar that ran right down his breastbone that I'd kissed and licked and nibbled my way down.
I frowned. The scar was so faint I knew I'd never noticed it when he was walking around without his shirt on. It had to be the one from when he'd tried to be Peter Pan. He'd never explained how he had a scar even though he was invulnerable.
And what about the tattoo on the outside of his hip? I knew I'd never seen that before.
So why did I suddenly remember them from my dream from the cabin?
Was it possible that the dream wasn't a dream but a memory?
The thought had occurred to me before, but the dream – or vision or memory or whatever it was – was more vivid than ever.
Could it be?
Could Clark *actually* be Christopher's father?
Could we have actually... made love that night?
Or was I just overlaying the more recent experience on top of my dream?
"Hey," Clark whispered. "Are you okay?"
I pulled myself out of my thoughts and nodded against him. "Just thinking about Daddy, hoping he's okay."
He kissed my forehead and stroked the hair near my temple. "He's going to be fine."
I wondered if I could get away with kissing him again.
He lifted my face towards him with his fingers tangled in my hair, his thumb running along my cheekbone.
"I know," I whispered, wondering what the look in his eyes was. Desire?
No, it couldn't be that, could it?
He kissed me gently. "I know you do."
I wasn't sure who moved first, but we moved towards each other, kissing again.
And again.
And again.
My hands roamed across the hard planes of his chest, across his six-pack abs.
His fingers trailed up and down my back, sending shivers down my spine.
His lips left mine and trailed down the side of my neck. I couldn’t stop the sounds in the back of my throat.
"I love that sound," he whispered.
My mind started going a million miles a minute.
Was it possible that Clark was actually here with *me* and not pretending that I was the blond?
I wanted to think about it more or ask him or something, but I simply wasn't capable of rational thought.
I'd think about it later.
Right then all I wanted to do was kiss Clark, touch Clark, make love with Clark.
I didn't know how long it was before I was resting on his chest again and the thought that I was missing something niggled at the back of my mind, but I was too exhausted to consider it much further and sleep claimed me once again.
When I woke up to find the sun streaming in the windows, my husband was nowhere to be seen.
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
I sat on an iceberg in the middle of the north Atlantic somewhere, staring into the water.
What had I done?
I'd made love to my wife.
Three times.
As much as I wanted to claim otherwise, there was no other way to describe it.
I didn't love her like that – not usually – but in that moment – in those moments – there was no one else in my world.
She'd said she didn't care if I pretended she was Lana as long as I didn't actually use her name, but there was no thought of Lana at all from the time she kissed me until the time I woke up later.
I wasn't sure what had possessed me to kiss her again when we'd woken up again, but I had and it had been amazing.
Super.
I wasn't sure where that superlative had come from but it seemed to fit.
She was on my side of the bed and I was on hers. Her dark hair spread over my pillow and I was glad that she was on her stomach because the sheet was dangerously low on her back, much lower than the now-discarded gown had been.
If she'd been on her back or on her side facing me... I wasn't sure what would have happened.
I had to get out of there before she moved.
Quietly, I pulled on some clothes and snuck out of the house, taking off for parts unknown and had ended up here.
I had promised Lana I wouldn’t make love to Lois while we were married, but I had.
Had I cheated on Lana?
I was *married* to Lois. Being with her wasn't *wrong*, was it?
Visions of the night at the cabin were coming back to haunt me. That vivid dream of making love to Lana was all I had of her. I hadn't let myself think about it much since I married Lois because it felt like cheating on her to think about another woman that way.
It had come flooding back to me as I held Lois after she fell asleep.
But this time, Lana was nowhere to be seen. It was Lois with me on the floor, under the blankets, in front of the fireplace.
Making love.
I'd thought it before, but I was more confused than ever.
Was it possible it wasn't a dream after all? Could we have really been together that night?
Could Christopher really be my son?
Another thought came screaming into my head.
We hadn't used protection. I was pretty sure that Lois wasn't on any form of birth control – there hadn't been any need. We didn't have... any other kinds of protection anywhere. We'd never bought any for the same reason.
Well, we had from time to time, as part of the cover, but they always ended up in a dumpster somewhere.
I blew out a slow breath.
I knew that her cycles had been irregular at best since Christopher was born, but hadn't been paying enough attention to have any idea about whether or not it was possible for her to get pregnant again. Or if it was even possible for me to get a human woman pregnant.
I guessed there was nothing to do but wait and see.
My mind floated back to the cabin. Could Lois and I... My brow furrowed. The scar I'd noticed last night. From when she'd tried to throw a rock at a squirrel. Nestled deep in the hollow between her collar bone and her neck, I'd kissed it repeatedly last night.
And the small mole on the swell of her breast. I knew I'd seen it before when she was wearing a tank top or swim suit, but I knew I'd never thought about kissing it before. Or thought how sexy it was.
And now I remembered doing the same that night. But was it really a memory or a melding of a dream and the night before? I guessed I'd have to ask Lois. Maybe. It was probably going to be awkward at best to be around each other.
It had been... amazing. Incredible.
Super.
It had been perfect. Better than perfect.
Jor-El had said that Kryptonians mate for life. Was this what he was talking about? Would this preclude me from another relationship after the divorce? From ever being with Lana – or anyone else – someday? How did he define 'mate'? Make lo... Do things for purposes of procreation with? Or bind their lives together with some sort of formal ritual – like a wedding?
Or was it a nature v. nurture thing?
Did Kryptonians mate for life – though some sort of formal ritual – because that was how they were raised? How society on Krypton worked? Was there no divorce? Was there no abuse or infidelity or anything like that where it would be acceptable for that kind of formal bond to be broken?
Maybe those kinds of things just didn't exist in Kryptonian society?
Maybe there was no provision for divorce and they were just stuck?
But here on Earth – in Kansas at least – divorce was still frowned on, but certainly not unheard of, or even all that uncommon.
I realized I was getting nowhere with all this. It didn't matter what Kryptonian culture was like. What mattered, at this point, I guessed, was if there was something... innate that caused Kryptonians to bond for life. Was there some sort of bond formed when the physical relationship was consummated? Had I sealed my... fate, for lack of a better term, by being with Lois like that? If Lana and I hadn't been waiting to get married, would things have been different? Would Lois and I still have ended up in the situation, but it would have been easier to... resist when she kissed me.
Another thought kept niggling at the back of my mind.
A line of thought I didn't want to pursue.
What if there was some sort of soul mate type bond that Kryptonians experienced and it... prevented them from having a physical relationship with anyone but that person? Was it possible that something in my Kryptonian heritage felt that Lois was my soul mate and not Lana and that was why Lana and I had never...
But I'd *wanted* to with Lana. Desire hadn't been a problem – not even after I was married. It wasn't like I hadn't had physical desire for her. I'd had that in spades.
But while it hadn’t always been easy controlling the urges with Lana, I had been completely defenseless against Lois' advances. Was it because we were married and I knew that it was... expected of us? Was it something to do with my Kryptonian physiology that was attracted to her?
Was Lois my soul mate instead of Lana?
Or had she... become my soul mate because we'd consummated our relationship?
Repeatedly.
And I'd instigated the last two times.
I was going to have to ask her about birth control and if she could be pregnant. And if she thought there was any possibility that Christopher was my son. *If* he was my son, she'd gotten pregnant on a Saturday and started getting hungry – really hungry – on Tuesday. Wasn't that awfully fast for a pregnancy to start affecting a woman? Was that a Kryptonian thing too? Maybe?
I decided to just watch her and see what her appetite was like during the next week. It wouldn't mean anything if she wasn't starving by mid-week but if she was...
I sighed as I glanced at my watch. Lois was going to want to go to the hospital and I should probably take her. I lifted up into the air and headed back towards Metropolis as fast as I could, slowing enough not to rattle windows but still fast enough to not be seen when I reached the house.
*****
TBC
