Thanks again to Kathy
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Last time:
"I should have been there in time to stop the truck. I should have responded to the first accident," he said with more conviction.
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I was here. Because I didn't know that it had closed the turnpike. Because I was dancing with you."
She moved back from him and when he looked up, her eyes were flashing fire.
"Don't you dare," she hissed. "Don't you dare blame yourself or me or anyone else. The *only* person at fault is that truck driver and then only if he didn't have some kind of unpreventable mechanical failure. You are *not* pinning this on you or me or your grandfather for having a fundraiser in the first place."
"I still should have gone."
"Clark, you are entitled to a life. Or are you going to feel guilty every time you miss some accident or something?"
He didn't respond.
"If we're on our honeymoon, on our wedding night and we're going to *really* bunk together for the first time and you hear something that the authorities should be able to handle and you turn off your hearing and you focus on me and on being together and making love and then later find out that it turned out worse than you thought, are you going to blame yourself for that? Because if you are, this isn't going to work. You are entitled to have a life, to choose – for whatever reason – not to respond to emergencies and that's okay. Otherwise you will never have a vacation or a moment's peace as long as you live. And if it's not okay for you not to respond then Clark Lane needs to disappear into the ether and you should go be Superman full time because that's ridiculous. You already don't respond to everything you *could* because you have a life and a job and a family who loves you and if that's not okay then that's a decision you have to make. It's the wrong one, but only you can make it."
*~*18*~*Lois wasn't sure if this was the right tactic to take with Clark. They'd only known each other a week. She didn't know what the best way to help him was, but everything she'd said was the truth.
If he wasn't going to give himself permission to not be everywhere at once then he was going to have to make a choice. She refused to be the scapegoat for him missing things. If she absolutely insisted he stay for no real reason and there was something huge going on, then maybe, but not for wanting to have a life with him. She wasn't going to apologize for wanting to spend time with him, to want to have an uninterrupted honeymoon someday or vacation or to insist that he be with her when she was giving birth – if that was how their life together played out.
She'd moved three or four feet away from him, her arms crossed in front of her as he sat slumped on the end of her bed.
She barely heard him when he finally spoke.
"You're right."
"What?"
"I said you're right, okay?" He sounded irritated.
"I honestly didn't hear you," she said softly, moving towards him again and wrapping her arms around him as his head rested against her. "Whatever you can do, Clark, it's enough. You can't be everywhere at once. You can't do everything you think you should be able to without losing Clark to the superhero. You would burn out so quickly."
"They say I should be there."
"Who says you should be where?"
"Anytime something happens and I'm not there and they - whatever they, victims, officials, first responders, families, whoever – say I should have been there faster or done more and I can't." His voice broke. "I can't do everything they want me to. I can't be everywhere they think I should. Even if I was Superman full time, I couldn’t do it."
She stroked the back of his head and suddenly missed the softness of Clark's hair – Superman's was full of gel, slicking it to his head. "You have to let yourself have some downtime. Not even presidents are on duty 24/7. They get downtime. They have Camp David to retreat to – and they don't get whole days off or anything and they might be considered 'on call' most of the time, but no one expects them to not have some quiet time with family and friends where they're not officially working. Emergency workers have limits on the number of hours they can work at a time and the number of days they can work in a row and everyone has to sleep – even you."
"I know, but it's hard."
"One thing I knew about Superman even before I knew he was you was that he had to have some other guise or at least some other clothes because being Superman full time was impossible. You can't be him all the time. You have to take a break, have a life. You have to take time to rest, to recharge, so you can be him when you need to be, when you're truly *needed*, or you'll end up in some Arctic fortress hiding from the world, from life. Then the world would lose not only Superman but Clark Lane." They were silent for a moment. "And as much as the world would miss Superman, I'd miss Clark more."
She didn't know how long she stood there, holding him in her arms, but it was an eternity.
He finally pulled away from her with a big sigh. "Thank you," he told her quietly. "I needed that."
She moved to sit next to him, her head resting again on his shoulder. "I'm glad. I have to admit I was a bit worried though."
"Why?"
"You just disappeared. No one knew where you went. I mean, I know most of those people you *couldn't* tell but you didn't tell me or your parents or even your grandpa."
"Gramps doesn’t know."
She snorted. "Yeah, right."
He looked up at her, shocked. "He knows?"
"He wouldn't be a man in his position if he didn't know things."
"Huh. Interesting." He turned further, shifting so he could put his arms around her. She moved into his embrace. "But still, thank you."
They stayed there for a long moment. "Could you do something for me, though?"
"Sure."
"Could you at least try to take a few seconds and let someone know that you're going and where and maybe how long you think you'll be gone? I know things come up suddenly or that you could be out doing one thing and something else happens and then something else or whatever, but if you can, could you at least try?"
He nodded against her. "I'm sorry. None of you were around. You were dancing with Tim Lake. Mom and Dad were dancing and I didn't see Gramps anywhere and I didn't know that he knew." He pulled back to look at her. "I can't promise I'll always be able to."
"I know. I just ask that you do when you can."
He kissed her temple lightly as she settled against him again. "Fair enough."
"I do wish we'd gotten to dance again."
She could hear the amused tone in his voice when he spoke. "That wasn't dancing."
"What?"
He stood, moving to the sound system mounted in the wall, pressing a few buttons. He turned and held out his hand towards her. "Ms. Kent, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"
She smiled. "Certainly, Superman."
He glanced down. "Do you want me to change back into my tux? I'd forgotten I was still in the Suit."
"Nope. You're fine just like you are." She took his hand and moved closer to him. "How many women get to say they've danced with Superman?" she whispered.
"A few," he admitted. "I've done some charity stuff where women have bid on dances and even dinner and stuff."
His hand pressed against her lower back, holding her tightly to him.
"Not like this, I hope." She rested her cheek against his 'S'.
"No," he answered huskily. "Not like this. And not like this either."
She gasped as she felt her feet leave the ground. They twirled around the room as the song played. "I love this song," she sighed, resting against him.
"Gramps has the whole house wired to a central stereo system."
"So the whole house is hearing 'Fly Me to the Moon'?"
Clark laughed. "No. I just set it for this room."
They floated in silence as the music filled the room. Clark set her gently on the floor as the moonlight streamed through the French doors to the balcony.
One hand came up to frame the side of her face and he kissed her, soft and sweet.
He pulled away to look into her eyes. "Lois, can I bunk in here tonight?"
*****
TBC
