Firstly, this is not the sequel to Weekend in Smallville. I’m working on that, but this story just wanted to be written first.
Rating – PG 13 - despite the title. Although it does have sexual references and themes, but nothing more than Soul Mates and Virtually Destroyed.
Setting – post season 4... and the end of season 1. It’s a Tempus story, so time is a fluid thing!
The story gets a little chaotic. I’ve tried to get the balance between clarity and wordiness. I hope it works.
Disclaimer. None of the characters are mine. Some of the events and lines have been adapted (or outright stolen) from “Lois and Clark, The New Adventures of Superman.”
Tempus:Four Play
by Female Hawk
Lois Lane was dreaming - a sensuous, erotic dream - based on her certain knowledge of what her husband could do to her. In her sleep, she reached for him and found his pillow cold and empty.
She awoke enough to groan. There were breathtaking positives to being Mrs Superman. The nights alone were the negative.
She heard someone coming up the stairs and was suddenly wide awake. She recognised his footsteps and hitched herself a little higher on the pillow so she could more fully appreciate him as he walked in.
He was in the Suit – the Suit that stretched so snugly across his spectacular chest. It didn’t conceal a lot, but what was covered, she was well able to imagine. He looked weary and a little downcast, she noticed, like a man who needed the attentions of his wife.
She rose from the bed, paused long enough for him to take in her barely-there nighty and swooped into his arms. She captured his mouth with hers and smoothed her hands around his hips to settle possessively on his lower back. She felt the beginnings of his groan escape -.
“No! Lois, no.”
His hands were firm on her shoulders easing her away from him. He sometimes did that when he came in from Superman stuff – when he was dirty, smoky, bloody. She backed away enough to give him the once-over. He looked fine – better than fine.
She tightened her arms around his neck and began searing kisses along his jaw.
“Lois! Don’t!”
He forced arm-length distance between them. He was breathing hard and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Clark?”
“I’m not *him*. I’m... me.”
“You’re not who?”
“I’m not your Clark. I’m the other Clark. From the parallel dimension.”
She stepped back as molten fire blazed across her face and dipped to her neck. She snatched her robe and closed it around her. “I’m sorry,” she said, conscious of the complete inadequacy of her apology.
He’d been staring somewhere above her left shoulder, but now looked directly at her. “I’m sorry too.”
She searched him. Dark, glossy hair, balmy brown eyes, clean-shaven, flawless mouth, with his lower lip held the tiniest bit adrift in unconscious invitation. Broad chest, which the spandex was helpless to camouflage, strong arms, bulging with muscle in all the right places, hands -. Lois dragged her eyes away. Even his hands looked just like her husband’s. And those hands -. She gulped.
She resolutely focussed on his face. “I thought you were my husband,” she offered lamely.
“My fault,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come into your bedroom. But I didn’t want to...” He motioned to his eyes. “You know.”
Lois was aware that under her overwhelming embarrassment, there was of a growing sense of disquiet. After more than a year of marriage, surely she should *know* Clark. Intuitively know. But she could see nothing in the man before her to differentiate him from her husband. “I’m really sorry about...”
“It’s ok.”
Nothing. Not one eyelash. Maybe it *was* Clark, teasing her. She glanced to his eyes, half expecting amusement. Instead she found bleak desperation. “Why are you here?” she asked.
“I need Clark’s help.”
“Clark’s out. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
“I’ll go and find him.”
“There’s no hurry.”
“Yes, there is. Lois... *my* Lois is going to –“
“*Your* Lois?”
His shy smile made him look incredibly young. “My Lois,” he repeated with a mixture of joy and pride and maybe some anguish too.
That explained why he had been studying her while she had studied him. “You *found* her?”
“Yes. And I have to get back before she marries Tempus.”
“*Tempus*?”
“The wedding is today. I need to find Clark now and –“
“No you don’t. When you go back, it will be only seconds after you left.”
“Really?”
“Remember when I came to your world? When I got back, Clark was panicked because I’d been gone for ten seconds.”
“Oh.”
She could see he was exhausted. “Go and get some sleep on the couch,” Lois said. “When Clark gets home, we’ll work out what we’re going to do together.”
She followed him to the landing and watched as he walked down the stairs. At the bottom, he smiled up at her. “The teamwork thing. I remember that.”
Lois leant against the door jamb. She’d finally found a difference between her husband and the man now settling himself on her couch. When they were Superman, she’d be ok. But when they were Clark... that could get tricky.
Hopefully they went to different optometrists.
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Clark Kent - Superman - gently deposited the last bus crash victim on the hospital gurney and gratefully turned for home.
He flew through his bedroom window and automatically sought his wife’s face. She was asleep, her dark hair splayed across the pillow. He was swept again with the depth of his love for her. He was the one with Super powers, but she was his source.
He spun out of the Suit and slipped into bed beside her. He reached for her arm and let his touch slide down to her elbow, drop onto her hip and shimmer down her thigh. She pushed his hand away. “Don’t,” she said sleepily.
He lifted his hand. “Lois?”
She rolled away from him. “Go back to the couch.”
“Lois, I think you’ve been dreaming.”
She didn’t respond. Her shoulder and upper back were bare. His fingertips glided across her shoulder. He would never tire of touching her.
She twitched.
He increased his pressure and began stroking the length of her upper arm.
“Leave me alone!”
He snatched back his hand as if he’d been stung. “Lois, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry if what happened let you think this would be ok. It isn’t. Not now. Not ever.”
“Lo–is?”
“Don’t you dare touch me.” She hunkered down the bed, covering herself so only the very top of her head was visible.
Clark stared at her rigid body.
He remembered this far too well. Watching her, yearning for her, unable to touch her.
What had happened to Lois while he was away? Only once before had she rejected him like this. His first wedding night, and it wasn’t Lois, it was the clone. He shot upright and scanned her ankle. There it was – the scar from her broken ankle.
So she wasn’t a clone.
He scanned her entire body, looking for signs of drugs, poisons, anything to explain her behaviour.
She lurched, turned and round-armed him. Her fist brushed his shoulder and hit him flush on the jaw. It didn’t hurt, but it sure did shock him. “How dare you scan my body?” she sniped with more venom than he’d seen in a long time. “I can’t believe you stooped that low.”
With a final glare, she turned away from him and covered herself completely.
He moved away, careful not to make contact with her. He stared at the ceiling, tense and uncomfortable, realising how few times he had lay next to her and avoided contact. There was no way he was going to the couch; no way was he going to leave her. Not until he’d worked out what had happened to her.
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Clark woke as the early morning light filtered through their window. Lois was asleep next to him. Nothing about her gave him any hint regarding her behaviour last night. Maybe he’d dreamed it? No, the sting of her rejection still sat like a burr in his heart.
Her eyes opened and she considered him warily. “Clark?” she said uncertainly.
So it wasn’t amnesia. “Yes.”
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Change into the Suit.”
Even better, she still knew he was Superman. Clark got up and spun into Superman.
She stood on their bed and looked down at him. “Look at your boots,” she said.
He did.
As he looked up, she threw herself at him. He caught her as her legs straddled his waist. She kissed him fervently and dragged her hands through his hair, past his neck, across his shoulders and under the cape. Her fingers found the zip and pulled it down.
Within seconds the Suit was lying crumpled on the floor. Her nighty followed. Clark neither knew nor cared. He was finally getting the welcome he’d wanted when he’d arrived home hours ago.
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“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked as they lay enjoying the afterglow.
Lois looked to where her fingers were tracing invisible lines across his bare chest. “Mistaken identity?” she said sheepishly.
He grinned. He was confused, she knew that, but his contentment had dulled it. He relaxed under her touch. “Who did you think I was?” he asked eventually.
“Clark from the parallel dimension.”
Clark sat up abruptly. “He’s here?”
“Uh huh.”
His contentment evaporated. “In our bedroom?”
“Uh huh.”
His top lip tightened. “Did you...?”
“No. No, of course not.”
He let out a big breath and collapsed back onto the bed.
“Clark?” she said.
He rose onto one elbow. “Yeah?”
“I was dreaming about you and he came in and I thought he was you.”
“You said nothing happened.”
“He stopped me.”
“How soon?”
“Very soon. As soon as he could.”
“You kissed him?”
“A little.”
“Were you naked?”
“No.” She ran the side of her thumb along his top lip, hoping to soothe away the tension still evident there. “I would never... not with anyone but you. I’m sorry.”
Clark’s hand cupped her jaw. “I know. But the thought of you with anyone else... it kills me.”
She kissed him, long and deep. “I fell asleep feeling completely mortified, then I half woke and I thought he’d come back.”
Clark rubbed his jaw. “Lucky I don’t bruise easily,” he teased.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not. I’m delighted to know that’s what every other man can expect if he makes a move on you.” He took her hand in his. “Any idea why he’s here?”
“He needs our help. His Lois is going to marry Tempus.”
“He found Lois?“
“Yeah, and now he awfully scared he’s going to lose her.”
“Poor guy.”
She kissed his Adam’s Apple. “Clark?”
“Uhm?”
“Please wear your wedding ring. I need to know for sure which one is you.”
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Lois brought the coffee from the kitchen to the two men at the table. It was like seeing double. Same optometrist, she thought wryly.
“I can’t stomach the thought of her with Tempus,” not-our Clark said.
“Does she love him?” Lois asked.
“I don’t know.” Not-our Clark was slumped, shoulders forward, face set. “She doesn’t love me, I know that.”
“But you love her?”
A shadow of a smile crossed his so-like-Clark’s mouth. “More than life.”
“Have you told her?” Clark asked.
“Yeah. Which was a mistake – all it did was damage our friendship.”
“What did she say?” Lois asked. But in her heart, she already knew.
“That she loved me as a friend, but not the way I wanted.”
His despair was palpable and triggered fresh revelation of how much she must have wounded Clark all those years ago. She caught her husband’s eyes. I’m sorry, she messaged silently.
“I went back, and as Superman, I rescued her from the Congo. She idolises him, but Clark, me, she treats like a kid brother – handy at times, but not to be taken too seriously.” Not-our Clark stared at his coffee. “She called me a ‘hack from Nowheresville’,” he said forlornly.
Clark glanced at her, his face straight, but his eyebrows raised just enough to convey his hidden humour. Lois smothered her desire to giggle. “But your world know you’re Superman,” she said.
“Not now they don’t. HG Wells took me back to early 1993, when Lois was in the Congo. When I brought her back to Metropolis, no one had heard of Superman. When it was just me, it didn’t matter that everyone knew. But with Lois, the secret identity was protection for her... if we ever became close.”
“You remember?” Lois asked. “Your life before, then going back, then living it all again?”
“Some of it.”
“Does Lois know you’re Superman?” Clark asked.
“No. I tried to find a way to tell her, but now she’s marrying Tempus, I’m relieved I didn’t.”
“What do you have on Tempus?”
“When I got back from the Congo, Tex Tempus was the Mayor of Metropolis – rich, well-respected, generous. Naturally I was suspicious, so I dug into his affairs. I know he’s behind multiple deaths, I know he’s involved in underworld crime, but I can’t prove any of it. And nobody wants to listen; he has a charisma nobody sees through. Particularly Lois.”
“But *marry* him?” Clark said.
Not-our Clark shrugged. “It started with an interview, moved to a date and the next thing I knew we couldn’t agree on anything and she was engaged to him.”
"You said she loves Superman. That didn’t help, eh?” Clark asked.
“No,” not-our Clark answered dejectedly. “She basically said she would give up Tempus if there was any chance with Superman, but I couldn’t...”
“Because you wanted her to love you for who you are, not what you can do,” Lois finished. Again she silently messaged Clark – I was such a klutz.
Yep, he teased with a knowing smile.
“HG gave me two inter-dimensional transporters.” Not-our Clark took the gadgets from his pocket. “He said to give you one and show you how to use it. He said we could help each other in case he didn’t come any time we needed him. I figured this was that time.”
Clark took one of the gadgets and examined it. “Do you have a plan for Tempus?” he asked.
Not-our Clark shifted uncomfortably, looking like a self-conscious teenager. “Yes... but...”
“Tell us,” Lois encouraged.
“Well, I have tried everything to get close to Lois. Nothing has worked. I thought...” He glanced at Clark, his colour deepening. “I thought if you and I were to swap, maybe she would notice you... me. At least enough to have second thoughts about marrying Tempus.”
Clark coloured, just a little. “I don’t have any ... foolproof strategies ... or special techniques ... or any -.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve seen how your Lois feels about you. If my Lois -.”
“So you think I sauntered in from Smallville,” Clark said incredulously. “Applied my... ah, foolproof strategies... and Lois immediately fell hopelessly in love with me?”
“Well... yeah, something like that. Isn’t that how it happened?”
The gobsmacked reaction on Clark’s face was nearly Lois’s undoing. She deliberately avoided looking at both of them and managed to resist the unruly giggles bubbling up her throat. But, she promised herself, Clark *would* hear about this later.
“I don’t think you and Clark should swap,” she told not-our Clark, her tone carefully measured. “But we can come to your universe and try to help you take down Tempus.”
Clark had managed to refocus his thoughts. “*I* will come, Clark. Lois is staying here.” He hurried on, before she could interrupt. “We should plan before we leave. If I know Tempus, things will move quickly once we get there.”
“Clark, I’m coming with you.”
“Lois, you’re staying here.”
“In every dimension, in every time, Tempus has only ever wanted two things,” she argued. “To kill Superman and have Lois Lane for himself.”
“That’s exactly why you’re staying here.”
“He *will* have Kryptonite.” She saw the conviction of her words settle into his consciousness and pushed her advantage. “So both of you could wind up useless and there’s so much his Lois doesn’t know. Our biggest advantage is Tempus not knowing we’re there, but we can’t use that fully unless I’m there too.”
Clark dragged his hand through his hair. “It’s too dangerous, Lois.”
“For five years, I’ve had one Clark and one Superman and you’ve always kept me safe. We’ll have two Clarks and two Supermans. What can possibly go wrong?”
A whole lot, said his eyes. He didn’t like it, but he was reconsidering. “Are you invited to the wedding?” he asked not-our Clark.
He nodded. “But I’m not sure I can face it.”
“I’ll go as you,” Clark said. “You can be Superman.”
“I’ll go to the wedding as your date, Clark,” Lois said. She waited until he looked at her. When he did, she smiled. She needed to know he had accepted her going. After what seemed a long time, he returned her smile.
“Clark and I can swap identities if needed,” not-our Clark said, “but we can’t be together around Tempus because he knows Clark Kent is Superman.”
“It would be better if we’re apart, anyway,” Clark said. “Then if there is Kryptonite, one of us might escape it.”
Lois poured them more coffee. “How much do I look like your Lois?”
“Her hair is a little longer. Even so...” Not-our Clark shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to have to guarantee who was who.”
“Then how are we going stop Tempus recognising me? And stop Lois wondering why Clark has a date who looks so much like her?”
“She’s so engrossed with Tempus, I doubt she’ll notice,” not–our Clark said.
“Trust me, she’ll notice,” Lois said.
“That’s Lois Lane for you,” teased Clark. “There’s not a disguise in the world she can’t see through.”
She kicked him under the table and he pretended to wince.
“Just for that my little minx, you can go as a blonde,” he grinned.
“Blonde?”
“Absolutely. You are going wig-shopping.”
“So I get blonde, and then we leave?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Clark agreed.
Not-our Clark unwound a little. “Maybe... there is a way out of this mess.”
“Of course there is,” Clark said. “We just have to find it.”
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Lois Lane was dreaming - a sensuous, erotic dream - based on -
Clark!
She bolted upright in her bed.
Her dream had been about Clark!
Her and Clark together, undressed, entwined.
Clark – her partner and best friend.
Clark – kind, decent, reliable, dull Clark.
But he hadn’t been dull in her dream. Far, far from it.
He’d been gentle and adoring – that she could imagine easily. But also passionately exhilarating, in a most unClark like way. Though she already knew he was a supreme kisser. She’d made that startling discovery in the Honeymoon Suite of the Texor Hotel. If she thought about it now, it caused her insides to roll with pleasure.
Clark.
*Clark*.
Clark, who’d told her with such defenceless honesty that he was in love with her. Clark, who hadn’t been able to hide his devastation at her response.
Clark, who deserved so much better.
But today was her wedding day. And she was going to marry Tex.
Tex Tempus – suave, charming, handsome, rich, enigmatic, mysterious.
She reached for the folder of notes she had been studying just before she slept last night. She flicked through them again. They were case notes for murders stretching back a year. There was something she was missing. She was sure of it.
Her bedroom door opened and she shut the folder. “Tex,” she greeted.
“My lovely Lois.”
“You’re not supposed to see me on our wedding day. It’s bad luck.”
“Not for us, my dear.” He kissed her hand.
“What do you want?”
“Many brides experience last minute nerves, so I’ve come to banish yours.”
She squeezed his hand. He could be considerate.
“In my penthouse, there is a weapon loaded with two personalised bullets. One is pure high-grade Kryptonite and is programmed to find Superman – wherever in the world he may be. The other’s target is Clark Kent and will kill him. They will fire at noon.”
Ice capped her heart. “Clark?”
Tex took the folder from her and stepped away. “Only the registration of our marriage will prevent it firing.” He sniggered. “Happy wedding day, darling. No second thoughts, remember, or... no Superman, no Clark.”
She melted back into her pillow. Tex had been behind those murders. He was the common thread. She’d just been too blind to see it.
Or too proud to admit that yet again... she had got involved with exactly the wrong sort of man.
And now she had to marry him, or both Clark and Superman would die.
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Clark kissed Lois as she left to buy the blonde wig. “Don’t hurry,” he said. “Clark’s pretty stressed. He could use a little time-out.”
“Take him to Smallville, that’ll relax him.”
Clark kissed her again. “See you later, Blondie.”
“We’ve got a couple of hours on our hands,” he said to not-our Clark after she’d gone. “Anything you’d like to do?”
“Do you have to go to the Planet?”
“It’s my day off.”
“Oh.”
“How about we visit my folks?” Clark offered.
“In Smallville?”
“Why not? They’d love to see you.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to trample all over your territory.”
Clark felt a little ashamed of his lingering jealousy over what had happened between this guy and Lois last night. His parents he was definitely willing to share. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
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Clark was conscious this could be awkward. Not-our Clark’s memories of his... their parents stopped traumatically nearly two decades ago. His parents had no memory of not-our Clark - not as a child - but they couldn’t look at him and fail to feel a connection.
Yet he’d counted without his parents’ ability to handle any situation graciously. He found himself sitting back, watching three people get acquainted or maybe reacquainted. Not-our Clark had been stiffly polite at first, but as time progressed so did his confidence. Clark tried to imagine what it would be like to be a grown man having coffee with the parents who had died when you were a child. He gave up – it was inconceivable.
After, Clark suggested they go for a walk around the farm.
“You go,” Martha said. “Jonathan and I are going to clean up.”
“No,” Clark said. “You and Dad go with him. I can see you any time.”
Martha’s hand on his shoulder increased in pressure. “He needs to spend time with you,” she said firmly. “Go.”
They walked around the farm, occasional inane comments cutting into lengthening periods of uncomfortable silence. Clark desperately sought a topic, anything, to break the ice. “It must be weird,” he said. “Being put back in time and living the same years over again.”
“The dates might be the same,” not-our Clark said with a small smile. “But the days with Lois have been nothing like the time without her.”
“How well do you remember the first time?”
“Like it was a dream, the main bits I remember, the detail can be a little vague.”
“Does it ever help with a story? I mean, do you just know someone you’re investigating is lying because you remember?”
“Occasionally.” He grinned again. “Lois doesn’t always take it well when one of my *ridiculous hunches* comes through.”
“*That* I can imagine.”
They came to the tree house and flew into it as one.
“Clark?” not-our Clark said. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
That depends, Clark thought. “No,” he said.
“What *did* it take for Lois fall in love with you?”
“A *lot* of patience.”
“Really?”
“I loved her from the moment I met her in Perry’s office. He introduced me and she barely even nodded in my direction.”
“Did she like Superman?”
“She adored him.”
“But not Clark?”
Clark shook his head and they shared a look of understanding. “She became engaged to a thug called Lex Luthor and I wanted to pull the world apart piece by piece.”
“What did you do?”
“We proved Luthor was a criminal and the police charged in during the wedding.”
“Then she realised she had the wrong guy?” said not-our Clark.
“Well, yes, but that didn’t mean she thought I was the right guy, not straight away, not that she told me. But we got closer and she eventually chose Clark over Superman and that was the first of the happiest days of my life.”
“‘How did you tell her about you being Superman? Was she mad?”
“Yep, she was mad.” Clark smiled, remembering. “I had tried to tell her a hundred times, but I always got interrupted by calls for help. She thought I was scared of commitment.”
“Were you?”
A quick denial rose in Clark’s throat, but he swallowed it. If he couldn’t be honest with... well himself... who could he be honest with? “I was scared plenty, but not so much about the commitment.”
“How could *you* be scared?” not-our Clark asked. “You’re so self-assured, so confident, so on-top-of-everything. You look like nothing has ever shaken you. I wish I was more like you.”
“I’ve had advantages. I’ve had parents. I’ve had more time. I’ve had Lois. I am stronger with Lois than I am by myself. You will be too.”
“Assuming she changes her mind about marrying Tempus, assuming he lets her and assuming she’s still willing to even be my friend,” he said miserably. “Even then... there are two big barriers between us and I just can’t see how they can be overcome.”
“Superman is one?”
Not-our Clark nodded.
“I proposed to Lois and she took off my glasses and demanded to know which one of us was asking to marry her,” Clark said.
“She had figured it out?”
“Yep. And she was *not* happy I had lied to her.”
“Was it days, weeks or months?”
Clark laughed. “Only days, but it felt like years and I was scared it would be forever.”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the other barrier?” Clark asked.
Not-our Clark didn’t answer at first. He was staring intently at the distant fields. “Personal stuff, you know,” he muttered.
“You’re a virgin and you’re frightened that if you ever get close to Lois, you’ll blow it and scare her away. Or hurt her physically. Or, once she knows you’re from another planet, she’ll find the thought of intimacy with you repugnant.”
Not-our Clark swallowed. Twice. “How did you know?”
“Been there, felt that.” Clark also stared into the distance. “It’s like a party where everyone else is invited, but you can’t go in, so you stay outside and... wonder. It’s tough. Until you meet Lois Lane. Then it’s torture.”
“Did you tell Lois? Did she think it made you even more... weird?”
“I told her. Initially, she was surprised, but she likes being my first. My only.”
“And when the time came to actually... you know?”
“The... differences... simply weren’t an issue. It will be the same for you.”
“Was it worth the wait?”
“More than worth it.” Clark jumped down from the tree house. “Can I give you some advice?”
Not-our Clark followed. “Go on.”
“If you ever have the really great idea of denying you love Lois so you can restore your friendship with her, make sure you let her speak first, ok?”
He looked puzzled, but shrugged. “Ok.” They headed back to the farmhouse. “Which is better?” not-our Clark asked. “Lois knowing you’re Superman or her not knowing?”
“That’s simple. Her knowing has made everything better.” Clark opened the farmhouse door. “I have a question for you. Which is harder – having a secret identity or having your whole world know you’re Superman?”
Not-our Clark grinned. “That’s simple too. The secret identity is much harder. My excuses are *so* lame.”
“Mine too,” said Clark. “Maybe we should compare notes.”
