[I don't remember if his name has been mentioned to this point, but Sam's travel agent is Vinnie]
Last time:
Clark
"Lay down," I told her. "On your stomach."
I couldn't quite read the look she threw my way, but I pulled the covers down and she complied. I went into the bathroom and got her favorite lotion, squirting some into my hand and rubbing my palms together and then warming it up slightly before I picked one foot up and massaged it gently. I knew they had to be bothering her, even if she wouldn’t admit it to me.
By the time I finished with both feet and her calves, I'd heard sighs of contentment and she was soon sound asleep.
I floated as I pulled the sheet, blanket and comforter up over her, all the way up to her shoulders. I floated over to my side of the bed and slid under the covers, hesitating slightly before moving closer to the middle of the bed.
Lois rolled onto her side, her nearly bare back towards me and she seemed to instinctively slide towards me, finding easily the spot where we fit nearly perfectly together.
I vacillated in my mind for a second before wrapping an arm around her, pulling her slightly closer to me before settling in to sleep with my wife curled up in the hollow my body created.
When I woke up the next morning, she was still there – or was it again? Had we separated during the night and somehow found our way back together? – and, I realized, I'd never had such a good night's sleep.
*~*96*~*
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
I woke up in Clark's arms.
Or at least, his arm.
Holding me to him.
I could feel the warm skin of his chest against my back.
I could feel the warmth radiating from his arm through the satin of my nightgown.
I didn't remember going to sleep like this, did I?
I thought back. No. The last thing I remembered was Clark using my favorite lotion to give me a foot and calf massage.
I remembered it feeling so nice and I must have fallen asleep.
So how I'd ended up in his arms – arm – was beyond me.
Not that I was going to complain, of course.
I sighed as I realized nature was calling. Carefully, I tried to move from his embrace.
"It's okay," he said quietly. "I'm awake." He rolled away from me. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good. Thanks." I rolled until I was sitting on the edge of the bed. "And thanks for the massage – it felt great and my feet don't hurt at all this morning."
"You're welcome." He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "I meant what I said last night. I want to help take care of you when you need it. And even when you don't."
"Thanks." I sat there for another minute before making myself ask. "Is it because you want to take care of *me* or because I'm having your baby? Would you feel the same way if this time we knew, for whatever reason, that this wasn’t your baby either?"
He sighed. "I don't know. I can't honestly answer that. I'd like to think things would be better this time regardless, because *we're* better this time."
I sighed. I probably shouldn't push it, but I didn't think I could help myself. "Yeah, we're better, but is that only because of Christopher? Or is it because you like me better and I like you better or whatever? You don't really *want* to be here any more than you did last time, do you? So is it just because I'm having *your* baby or would things be better this time if I'd been at another party and someone spiked my drink, but this time no one was there to rescue me?" I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
He flopped onto his back, but I stayed where I was; sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor in front of me.
"I..." He stopped.
I felt him roll towards me and then his hand covered one of mine that I didn't realize was gripping the sheets.
"I've always liked you," he said quietly. "Two years ago, I didn’t like myself much. I didn't like the situation at all, but it was never *you*. I do want to be here with you and Christopher."
"But you'd still *rather* be with Lana, wouldn’t you?"
He gave an exasperated sigh. "What is it you want me to say?" He let go of my hand and I felt him move until he was sitting and leaning against the headboard.
"I want the truth," I told him as a random vision of Gene Hackman yelling 'you can't handle the truth' at Tom Cruise flashed through my mind. What was that about?
"Why is this so important to you? Isn't it enough that things are going to be different this time?"
No. It wasn't enough. It was good, but it wasn't enough. I wanted him to want to be here with *me*, not just with Christopher, but with *me*.
"No, it's not," I whispered and practically fled to the bathroom.
~~~~~
Clark
~~~~~
I leaned my head back against the headboard.
I didn't understand women. I didn't understand *Lois*.
I'd told her the night before that I wanted things to be different. I wanted to help take care of her – however she needed me to.
So why was she pushing this?
Why wasn't it enough that I wanted to take care of her?
Why was she pushing me to say that I wanted to be here with her and Christopher?
I *did* want to be here. I loved Christopher, very much, and I wanted to be as big a part of his life as I could be for as long as I could be.
What about Lois? Did I want to be here with her? Or was the attitude change *just* because I knew she was having my baby this time? Would I be the same way if something had happened to her at some party somewhere? Would I be upset that someone had done that to her?
Of course. I'd be mad; the guy would be lucky to survive if I ever got my hands on him, but I'd feel that way about anyone who did something like that to a friend of mine – I'd have been that way if I knew who it was that tried to do that to Lois at the frat party, but if something happened now...
Would I be incensed, infuriated, that someone had violated my *wife*?
I sighed. I didn't think I'd be any more upset than I would have been for Lois two years earlier. I'd be upset, very upset, mad, outraged, whatever, but probably not much more than if it was... Serena or something.
Well, probably more than if it was Serena but probably not quite like Dad would be if someone did that kind of thing to Mom.
But being here with her and Christopher... I wanted to be here, I wanted to take care of her...
So why wasn't that enough for her? That I cared about her and I wanted to take care of her? Why did it matter so much that it was different because it was my baby? *Was* it different because it was my baby? I'd be more upset than I would have been two years earlier if someone had done that to her, but I'd treat her better than I had two years earlier, wouldn’t I?
The conclusion I came to was a resounding yes. We weren't where we were two years earlier.
Was part of my motivation or whatever that she was having *my* baby?
Probably.
Almost certainly, but at the same time would I treat her differently, would I want to take care of her any less, would I *actually* take care of her any less, if she wasn't having my baby?
*Want* to? Maybe. Actually? I didn't think so. I wasn't sure what I'd be able to do for her, but things like back rubs and fulfilling cravings I'd have done either way.
Right?
I thought so.
Would it have been different if Lana and I had been married for a couple years and found out we were having a baby?
Probably.
But Lois and I were about as far from a conventional couple as we could possibly get, it was only natural that it would be different if I was with Lana – or whoever – and more conventional. Wasn't it?
Did she want something more conventional?
Was that what she meant when she said it wasn't enough?
And if so what did that mean?
I sighed and went to stand next to the bathroom door. I knocked lightly. "Lois?"
No answer.
"Come on," I said. "Open the door."
"What else is there to say?" she finally called. "Things are going to be different this time. End of story."
I sighed again. "Please. Talk to me?"
The door opened. "Things are going to be different. That’s great. I’m happy that we're not going to be where we were last time I was pregnant, but that doesn't mean I'm ecstatic that I'm having a second baby when I'm only 20 and my husband is still in love with someone else."
I started to say something, but she stopped me.
"Does that mean I want you to be in love with *me*? That's not what I said. I'm not unhappy about this baby, not at all, but this still isn’t how I figured I'd have a family and every day that we're married, every baby I have, makes it that much harder – eventually – to have that dream. When our marriage ends, you go back to Lana, beg her to take you back, get married, have babies with her, see Christopher and this baby for a month during the summer and a couple weekends a month or whatever we work out depending on where you live. If I ever want a *real* family life, I have to get back out on the dating scene, find a guy willing to accept me and my baggage with relationships because – let's face it – I'm likely to be a bit gun shy after the first year we had, two kids, potential threat from a psycho even if it's officially over because he may never actually leave us alone. And that's assuming, of course, that I end up with custody, because it's very possible that Christopher and this baby will want to live with you and the Corn Queen anyway. *That's* why it's not enough that it's *just* going to be better than it was."
She hadn't stopped to take a breath then shut the door in my face before I had a chance to respond.
~~~~~
Lois
~~~~~
It was getting to me again.
I knew that.
I'd reduced the amount of medication I was taking – with Kristi's blessing, but when I told her I was pregnant again, she said it might get worse again as my hormones went back into flux.
I'd been doing so well, things were better in my life and I was able to deal with it all and cope so much better than I had been right after Christopher was born. She'd been urging me to see a therapist – a Dr. Friskin that she'd sent patients to a number of times – but I couldn't. The risk was too great.
I was going to have to talk to her about it, but it seemed likely that I'd need to increase it again.
I leaned heavily against the door, knowing that if he wanted to, he could look right through it and see me.
Everything I said to him was true. It was going to be harder to find someone after our marriage was over. Someone who would want to be a step-dad to two kids, who was willing to take on me and my baggage and not just from that first year; from being in love with a man who didn't love me back but who loved his kids and was a great father.
And I didn't *say* I wanted him to be in love with me, but I did. I wanted him to be in love with me like he'd been in love with Lana – like he was still in love with Lana.
Or at least how I guessed he was still in love with Lana. He didn't talk about her much – and I was glad for that – but he'd never said anything to the contrary. I was sure he was still hoping for a future with her someday – a future with kids of their own, half siblings to Christopher and Clark's baby that was – even as I thought it – developing inside *me*; a future that included making love and not just on nights when her dad almost died.
Maybe someday I'd find someone who loved me like that – but for the moment I wasn't holding out much hope.
I sighed. We didn't have to go to work or anything else so the day was going to be spent hanging out at the house. Maybe Vicki would want to go Christmas shopping or something. There was only a week until the big day and surely I could find someone else I needed to shop for.
Like my husband.
I didn't have anything for him yet.
I didn't know what I was going to get him.
That was a good idea. I'd get Vicki and maybe Christopher and go shopping.
An hour later, we'd decided that leaving Christopher – and therefore the Sceves – at home was a better plan.
I needed to get them something for Christmas, too. They'd miss Christmas with their families to be in Smallville with Clark and Christopher.
"How're you feeling?" Vicki asked as we walked through Pittsdale Mall.
"Okay for now," I told her. "Last time I didn't get sick until ten weeks or so. Tired, but that's not surprising either. I could probably go for a nap this afternoon," I admitted.
She laughed. "I think I may, too." She stopped and looked around. "Where do we need to go?"
I sighed. "Not a clue."
"Well, Victoria's Secret?"
I rolled my eyes. "No. I have no idea what I'm getting any of them, but there's no need to go *there*." I thought I managed to keep the bitter note out of my voice. "One of the Sceves said that his pocket knife broke last week."
We headed to several different stores and got both of them new pocket knives and I decided to stop at one of the nearby restaurants and get gift certificates. I got spa certificates for their wives. They'd missed out on time with their families to protect mine sometimes and I appreciated that. I thought for a minute. Maybe tickets to a play or something, too, would be good. A date night for them and their wives.
That just left Clark.
"I just don't know what to get him," I told Vicki as we sat on the food court. "He hasn't mentioned anything that he wants or needs and I can't think of anything." I *wanted* to do something nice for him, but I had no idea what. Ski weekend with Jimmy? They already had one planned for February.
"What about a vacation?" she asked suddenly.
"What?" I took a drink of my soda.
"You could probably get a good deal on a cruise or something between Christmas and the time school starts. You two have never been on a vacation together," she pointed out.
I sighed. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. "I'll talk to Dad's travel agent and see what he can get for me. If we go then, I won't be sick yet, hopefully."
We finished our milkshakes before we headed towards the restaurants to get the gift cards and then drove by the travel agency to see if Vinnie was in and he was. I found a cruise I could afford – though the room wasn't quite as nice as it would have been if Daddy had planned a trip, but that was okay; *I* didn't have his kind of money yet – but I could afford one of the smaller rooms, with no balcony. I bit my lip. Clark didn't like flying much – though he'd gotten better at it; would he be okay with a cabin without a balcony?
I sighed. Was this really a good idea? A week alone with Clark? But we wouldn't be *alone*. We could do whatever we wanted and that didn't have to be together.
And there wouldn't be any Latislani spies on board either.
I sighed and Vinnie and I decided on a cruise, flights – for the day after he was supposed to get back from Smallville – and on a room. Daddy had travel insurance that would cover the costs if something happened and we needed to cancel for any reason.
Of course, we'd also said that we wouldn't have to do Christmas for each other this year because we weren't going to be together.
Well, I'd keep the papers hidden and if the opportunity arose, I'd give it to him and if not, then I'd deal with that later.
*****
TBC
