Story TOC My thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting - I'm overwhelmed and delighted by the response to this story.
<><><>
Previously:
"You get married?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she answered just as softly.
A searing twist of jealousy tightened low in his chest. Clark reluctantly met her gaze. He had to ask, but he was afraid of the answer. "Who do you marry?"
"Can't you guess?" Her eyes were sparkling with affection.
Clark hesitated, wanting to believe that it was true - that all of his hopes and dreams were only a few years away from being realized. "Really?"
Her hand cupped his cheek as her face moved closer to his. "Really," she whispered, just before her lips touched his.
<><><>
Ricochet 7/10
<*><*><*>
1995
<*><*><*>
Most people thought Superman wasn't affected by the elements; that he was indifferent to heat and cold, but they were wrong. The sensation of temperature was something Clark could feel - it just didn't burn or freeze his flesh to the point of injury. The effects for him were nonetheless cumulative and, after hours spent helping with the effects of a winter storm, he felt just as cold and numb as the people he had rescued.
It was nearly two o'clock in the morning as Clark wearily made his way home. He was utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sink into a long and dreamless sleep. Clark stumbled through the back door of his loft and had taken two steps towards the bed before he realized that he wasn't alone.
Lois was there. She had been sitting at the foot his bed, but stood up as he came inside. On any other occasion, he would have been happy to see her. The past couple of days had been a revelation to him, giving him a glimpse of the woman he'd always been certain was hiding beneath the bluster. But right now, when he could barely stand up straight, he wondered if it would be rude to ask her to leave.
"I thought you might need a friend," she told him.
"I'm… sorry. I don't think I'd be good company right now." Clark was so tired that going back out into the storm seemed impossible, and yet he couldn't let her drive home when the weather was so terrible. "I'll fly you home..." Even to his own ears the words sounded slurred with exhaustion.
"You're not flying anywhere." Lois took hold of his hand and it was the first warm touch he'd had in hours. "Come on, come sit for a minute." She pulled on his hand, tugging him forward and Clark numbly lurched to the end of his bed and sat down.
She knelt down and matter-of-factly began to unzip his left boot. It felt strange, to have her doing this for him, but the clinical detachment he had been effecting was still firmly in place and he could only watch, slightly dazed, as she removed first one, and then the other, of his boots. Then Lois stood up and touched her hand to his cheek.
"Can you stand up for just a little longer?" she asked softly.
Clark nodded and rose, somewhat unsteadily. Lois took hold of his arm to guide him towards his bathroom. "You're soaking wet, we need to get you warm or you'll never be able to sleep tonight."
"I--" he started to say, but stopped when he realized that she was right.
Once they were inside his bathroom, she moved behind him. Her hands swiftly gathered up the material of his cape, bunching it together before draping it over his left shoulder. He felt the slide of the zipper and then a gentle tug as she peeled away the top half of his suit. He almost protested, but her hands were so certain and confident that he closed his eyes instead, grateful for this small respite. Once the top half of his suit was hanging at his waist, her hands returned to his shoulders. Seconds later the harness holding his cape in place was being slid down his unresisting arms.
Lois was undressing him, but it didn't feel at all erotic, it felt reassuring. It seemed as though the weight of the night's horror was dropping away from him as his suit was dismantled. Not since childhood had he felt this kind of simple security, the sensation of being cared for so completely.
He opened his eyes when he heard the shower start up.
"You can do the rest," she told him with the faintest hint of a smile. "I'll put some clothes outside the door for you, okay?"
Clark nodded his understanding and she left the bathroom. He stared at the back of the door for a moment and wondered if, in the future, she didn't stop at his waist in helping him undress. He shook his head to clear that thought and stripped away the rest of his suit. As hot water sluiced over him in the shower, he bowed his head and tried to let the heat and steam wash away the gruesome images in his head.
The bad memories did seem more distant now, but it wasn't because of the water. Again and again his thoughts went to Lois and her obvious familiarity with his suit. A momentary ripple of happy warmth went through him at the thought that she had done this before. What would it be like to come home to Lois, instead of an empty apartment?
She was still there, wasn't she?
Clark turned off the water and held his breath, listening past the last drips from the shower to hear Lois moving in the next room. He toweled himself dry and opened the door a fraction. As promised, there was a small pile of clothes waiting for him. In spite of his exhaustion, he tried to dress quickly so that he could see her again before she left.
Lois was turning down the covers on his bed, but she turned around to face him as he came into the room. "Feeling a little warmer?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you for, uh--." He wasn't sure what to say next and he couldn't quite bring himself to say 'undressing me', so he changed the subject. "You aren't leaving now, are you?" he asked quietly.
Lois gestured at his front room. "I'd like to stay on your couch, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind." Clark scrubbed at his eyes, swaying slightly on his feet.
Lois took a small step towards him, then another, coming close enough that they were almost touching. She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then put her arms around him as she whispered, "Good night, Clark."
His response was automatic; his arms closed around her and his chin dropped, lowering his face so that it was buried in the fragrant softness of her hair. Her hands stroked delicately along his back, leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to penetrate all the way to the chill lodged deep inside him.
"We should get you into bed, honey," she whispered.
Clark's arms tightened reflexively around her. He didn't want to let her go just yet so he tried to force himself to wakefulness. "Don't, not yet," he mumbled.
The room felt as thought it were moving around him and then he realized that she was shuffling them. Her body shifted so that it was no longer pressed close to his and then she was guiding him down, urging him to sit on something soft. It was his bed, Clark realized. He slid over, hoping she'd join him.
There was no hesitation before the comforting heat of her body was next to his. He heard a click as the lamp was turned off. His room was now painted in blue tones from the half-glow of the newly fallen snow outside. The sheets whispered as she pulled them higher; their gentle weight made sleep seem even more irresistibly inviting. Lois' arms went around him, cradling him against her. His head came to rest on her shoulder and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her. Her fingers tickled through his hair, soothing away the last lingering traces of stress.
"I've missed your hair longer like this," she whispered.
"Mmm," he answered. His body felt heavy and almost boneless. Never in his life had he felt this pampered and loved. Was this what it was like, being married? He wanted to ask her, but he couldn't seem to work up the effort that would require. He gave up trying and surrendered to the slow cadence of her breathing and the sweet oblivion of sleep.
<><><>
Clark woke up slowly. He was loathe to give up the lingering dream he was having. In it he could hear the gentle thrum of Lois' nearby heartbeat. His arms tightened around her, pulling her deeper into his embrace.
"You awake?" Her voice was husky with sleep.
Was he? The circumstances would seem to indicate that he was still dreaming. That he wasn't came to him in a rush and Clark couldn't help grinning at her. "I thought I was dreaming."
She smiled back at him. "It's not a dream."
"It feels like one." He lifted one hand, smoothing it over the silk of her hair to tuck her more snugly under his chin. She made a quiet hum of pleasure and he dipped his head to press a soft kiss into her hair. Clark's lips stayed there, just breathing in the comforting scent of her.
"Is this what it's like, being married?" he asked.
He could feel her grin against his chest. "Pretty much."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure." Her toes rubbed past his ankle as she answered. Suddenly, holding her seemed much less innocent than it had the night before.
"When do we get married?"
Lois sighed. "More than a year from now."
"You can't tell me the day?"
"I'm not sure I should. But it does happen, Clark. No matter how hopeless it might seem at times, we do get there."
"Hopeless? Why hopeless?"
"Okay, let's say improbable. There's a lot that happens between now and then."
"Maybe that's why you're here? To warn me?"
And that was the question, Lois thought. Why was she here? If Wells had wanted her to warn Clark about something, why hadn't he told her that outright? Or was this Tempus' doing? Was he sitting in front a monitor somewhere, munching popcorn as he gleefully watched her destroy her future?
There was no way to tell - and no way to know if warning Clark could change the future. Did it even matter when their future had already changed? Without Lex around - and Lois had double-checked that he really had been cremated - their future was already different.
"I don't know what to warn you about," she told Clark. "Without Lex around, it all changes."
"So there's nothing else?" His fingers stroked slowly along her shoulder.
Lois thought about it. She hadn't been able to save Bender, but Gretchen Kelly was still alive. That could certainly change things. Would Gretchen be the one to interrupt their wedding now, looking for vengeance? She would have to escape from prison first, and Gretchen didn't have nearly the network as Lex. So was there something else? She thought back, trying to remember what else had happened in the early spring of 1995.
"Mayson," she whispered in a shocked tone. "Maybe it's Mayson?"
Clark's fingers stilled. "What happens to Mayson?"
"She dies. She murdered, actually."
Clark sat up abruptly. "When?"
Lois frowned, trying to remember. "Next week, I think? Maybe the week after that? She was gathering evidence for a case. A scientist who used to work at STAR Labs. Uh, Stables or Gables…"
"Stanley Gables?" Clark asked. "The one who accidentally killed his co-workers with that virus?"
"That's the one. Mayson was investigating him on other charges when he put a bomb in her car."
Clark glanced at his alarm clock; it was almost seven o'clock. "Do you think it's too early to call her?"
"You're lucky I'm not the jealous type," she teased as he got out of bed. "Or I might get upset that you're about to call your girlfriend."
"Mayson isn't my girlfriend." Clark looked at her like she couldn't possibly be serious.
"Good luck convincing her of that," Lois said with a smile. "Although, if you think it will help, I'll come along when you talk to her and drape myself all over you."
He tilted his head. "You're jealous."
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Why would I be jealous?"
"Not even the littlest bit?" he pressed.
Lois hesitated. She wasn't jealous, but she certainly had been at the time. "Okay, back then, now, whatever, yes, I was the teensiest bit jealous of her. But I'm not
now."
Clark pulled a pair of jeans from a drawer and started towards the bathroom to get changed. He paused outside the door and turned back to her. "I'd never let Mayson take my cape off," he told her with a smile.
"If you ever do, Clark, I'll put the bomb in her car myself."
<*><*><*>
1998
<*><*><*>
They were driving home from work when Clark suddenly stiffened in his seat and urgently asked her to pull over. Lois immediately swerved into a no parking zone. She was still putting the brakes on as Clark opened the door and got out. He dashed to a nearby alley and, seconds later, she saw a blue and red blur as Superman flew past.
Was that something she ever got used to? Lois turned on the radio before pulling back into traffic, listening for a clue as to where he had gone. She was almost home before the breaking news bulletin aired. A train had derailed outside of Metropolis and some of the passenger cars had gone into the West River.
Once she reached home, Lois ran inside and turned on the television. She sat down on the couch, her heart racing as she watched the aerial footage shot from a helicopter. It was hard to believe that anyone could still be alive in all that twisted wreckage. She watched, awestruck, as one of the train cars rose from the river and floated through the air before landing gently on the river's bank.
That was Clark doing that. Her Clark. Her future husband.
The view switched to an on-scene reporter, breathlessly bringing the audience up to date. There had been over five hundred people on the train. So far there were nineteen confirmed dead and it was feared that the toll would climb much higher. The reporter gravely announced that, while Superman was helping with the rescue efforts, it didn't appear that there was much he could do.
"…By the time Superman arrived here, the people in those train cars…" The camera swung to show a second car rising from the river. "…were already dead. This was an instance when even Superman could not save them."
Lois stood up, full of righteous indignation. How dare that reporter? How could that man stand there, surrounded by so much pain and loss, and smugly pass judgment on Superman's efficacy? What was he doing to help? Nothing! He was standing there without a hair out of place and calculating the Emmy or Peabody he might win.
The camera panned over to show Superman peeling open the top of a mangled car so that rescuers could reach the people trapped inside.
"You're doing a great job, Clark," Lois whispered to the TV.
<><><>
After a couple of hours, Lois found that she could no longer bear to watch the news. She had become increasingly agitated by every reporter covering the story. The higher the death toll climbed - and it had reached eighty-four people before she turned off the TV - the more heartbroken she felt. The loss of all those people, who had left for work that morning without knowing that they'd never make it home that night, was horrifying to her. She couldn't, didn't even want to, imagine the anxious thoughts of their families and friends as they watched the news and waited for the phone call that would either relieve their fears or devastate them.
She felt guilty that she was sitting at a distance while Clark was selflessly helping out. Time and again the reporters had announced that Superman was going into the river to recover bodies. At least the cameras had tactfully drawn the line at showing footage of that heartbreaking part of Superman's service.
Lois went to the window that Clark favored when coming home as Superman. Despite the chill of the evening, she opened it wide. When he came home, she wanted him to feel welcome. She sat down on the couch, wrapped a blanket around her, and picked up a book. It didn't matter how late he got home, she was resolved that at least one person would acknowledge how much his kindness had cost him.
<><><>
It was nearly midnight when Clark returned. He shut the window and then gestured at the stairs. "I'm going to…" He didn't finish the sentence.
Lois nodded at him, her expression sympathetic. "Sure."
She remained on the couch, listening as the shower started upstairs. After several minutes, the house fell silent. Lois waited, but Clark never came back downstairs. She locked the front door, turned off downstairs lights, and then climbed the stairs. His bedroom door was open a crack and the light was on, but there wasn't a sound from inside.
"Clark?" she called out softly.
No answer.
Lois bit her lip, debating what to do next. Then she pushed on the door to open it a few inches. Clark was there, sitting on the end of the bed in a towel, his shoulders slumped as he stared blankly across the room.
"Clark?"
This time he straightened up and half-turned his head to acknowledge her.
"Yes?"
For a second she hesitated, not wanting to disturb him when he was clearly tired and upset. The thought that he needed a friend propelled her into the room. Without a word, she stood in front of him and touched his cheek so he would look up at her.
"What you did tonight," she whispered. "It was amazing."
"One hundred and twenty-seven people," he whispered back.
Her eyes swam with tears, hearing in his voice the weight of all the lifeless bodies he'd brought back to shore.
"That's one hundred and twenty-seven families who will be able to lay their loved one to rest. You've saved them from having to wonder where the body was."
Clark bowed his head and Lois moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug. His arms went immediately around her waist, holding her to the hug. Lois stroked her hands slowly over his back, marveling at the strength that lay just beneath his warm skin. Was she doing this right? Lois wasn't sure. Her cheek dropped to rest on top of his head.
He murmured something into her shoulder, but it was too soft for her to catch it. A wave of affection for Clark, so intense that she had to close her eyes, washed over her. Yes, she had wondered about how Superman handled the pressures and she had even dreamed about being the one he turned to for comfort, but none of those half-baked fantasies had taken into account the very real person beneath the costume. He wasn't the alluring and mysterious god in blue tights, but the flesh and blood man who was her best friend. That he trusted her and looked to her for comfort and advice was both humbling and exciting. That his kiss could scramble her mental processes was only a slight problem.
Time slowed down and she wasn't sure how long she had been holding him before he whispered, "Lois, can I ask you for a favor?"
"Sure, anything."
He sighed and she felt his shoulders tense before he asked, "Can I hold you?"
Lois lifted her head, confused. "You are holding me."
"No, really hold you." Clark gently set her back so he could look her in the eye. "Will you trust me to just hold you and not push you for anything else?"
Trust him? Why wouldn't she trust him? She was the one having faintly impure thoughts, not him. "Of course."
Clark stood up and went into the bathroom, reappearing moments later dressed in the sweats and t-shirt that had so distracted her a few nights earlier. He stood in front of her and reached out, resting his hands lightly on her waist as his eyes searched hers. What was he looking for? She had already told him that she trusted him and that he could hold her. Lois was about to put her arms around him when he moved, lifting her into his arms.
"Oh," she said, surprised and a little dazed that this was how he wanted to hold her. She put her arms around his neck and saw his eyes close. Lois realized what he wanted now. He needed to reset the sensory memory of holding someone in his arms, to replace all those dead bodies with someone who could respond to him. She tightened her arms around him and kissed his cheek.
"You did good tonight, Clark."
He sat back down on the bed, still cradling her to his chest. "Will you stay with me tonight?"
"Yes." Her answer was immediate, instinctual.
She felt his body relax a little against hers, as if his tension was draining away. They were floating just a fraction off the bed she realized, moving so that they could both stretch out. He set her down next to him gently. He rolled onto his side, spooning her body to his. Lois knew she should only be feeling compassion, but she couldn't quite suppress the thrill that he was holding her like this.
Clark heard her heartbeat accelerate and asked, "Is this okay?"
"Absolutely," she whispered back.
She had to be stretching the truth, but she was doing this for him. Clark squeezed his eyes shut tightly, grateful that she would let him this close.
"Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you for waiting up for me tonight. Thank you for trusting me."
Her hand covered his, lacing their fingers together. "Clark, do you remember when I was out of my mind on pheromones and came to your apartment to seduce you? You didn't take advantage of me that night and you easily could have. I've trusted you ever since."
She had told him that before, years ago, but it was strangely reassuring to hear it again. His chest ached with how much he loved her. "You're my best friend, Lois."
"You're my best friend, too, Clark." Lois swallowed hard, choking on the words she wasn't sure she dared to say just yet. It seemed silly to keep them from him, especially since it was something he already knew, but she still hesitated before quietly adding, "I love you."
Clark pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head even as his heart lurched joyfully. The feeling was the same as the first time she had whispered those words to him.
"I love you, too," he whispered.
Her eyes closed as something warm and lovely rippled through her veins. It was contentment, she realized. For the first time since she had shown up in her future, she felt as though she was exactly where she belonged. And the reason had nothing to do with Superman and everything to do with Clark.
Lois snuggled back a little closer against her best friend and drifted off to sleep.
<><><>
End 7/10
** Yes, I took away the alternate ending and tweaked the original ending. I posted in a rush, so I'm still cleaning up the mess.
