OK, this part is for everyone who likes a little 'togetherness'!
From Part 9 ...
Kal walked to his meeting, dazed.
He had been sure nothing could dismantle his concentration as thoroughly as Lois kissing him.
He had been wrong.
Her *not* kissing him had infinitely greater capacity for chaos.
Part 10
Lois spent the afternoon engrossed in her story and the hours passed quickly. She put the finishing touches to the final picture and then reviewed the earlier ones.
They were a long way from masterpieces, but considering the limits imposed by both her equipment and her abilities, the pictures had turned out surprisingly well. Lois looked at them, enjoying the sense of achievement.
Kal should be here soon with their supper. Lois stood and stretched. She rubbed her shoulders and neck, massaging away the stiffness from the hours at the desk.
Kal would be here soon. She’d seen a glimpse of a different Kal today ... a man who could appreciate the lighter moments, a man who could allow a glimmer of his inner feelings to be revealed in that breath-taking grin.
She hadn’t asked what he’d be doing that afternoon - but she was hoping his good humour would survive the tedium of what was probably another boring meeting.
The door opened and Lois spun around with a happy sigh of expectation.
Kal was there with their supper.
Immediately, Lois detected his despondency.
“Hello,” he said. He pulled the chair to the bed and sat down, plate on his lap. He offered her a stick, but didn’t begin eating.
“Kal,” Lois said. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you know there is something wrong?”
“You look ... down ... concerned about something.”
His brown eyes found hers and simply stared for a stretched moment. “There’s a worrying situation developing,” he said finally.
“Are you allowed to tell me about it?”
“I have no restrictions on what I do.”
His complete lack of arrogance when he spoke of his supremacy still had the capacity to surprise her. “Do you not want to tell me?”
“I have not had someone I could discuss these things with before. Not like this.”
“What about your Regal Nobles?” Lois said, thinking again of Lord Nor and Jib’s sister. Did Kal believe the Regal Noble’s story? Did he have suspicions about the ‘accident’? “As the next tier of people in the hierarchy, shouldn’t they be here to help you? To support you? To take some of the burden?”
The lack of understanding on Kal’s face reminded Lois of her earliest impressions of him. “They discuss the matters of state,” Kal said.
In other words, they were no help at all Lois surmised grimly. “If you think it would help ... I’d like to listen,” she offered.
Kal laid his stick on the plate, his mood evident in the sag of his vast shoulders.
Lois took the plate from his lap and placed it on the floor. She smiled at him. “Haven’t you ever heard that a problem shared is a problem halved?”
“No.”
She rested her hand on his ... just for a moment ... then withdrew it ... before she could be tempted to linger. “What happened, Kal?” she asked.
“Eight days ago, a young boy was murdered,” he said. “The perpetrator was found, he confessed and he was executed.”
“Are you sure he did it?”
“He was seen with the boy, the murder weapon was found in his house and he confessed that he attacked the child in a fit of anger because the child refused to leave his property.”
“He killed because the child was trespassing?” Lois said, aghast.
“Some of my people own very little,” Kal said hollowly. “They are very protective of what they have.”
Lois’s impulse was to defend the child, but then she remembered the murderer had already paid for his crime with his life. Which reminded her again of Lord Nor. “The murderer was executed?”
“Yes. The next day.”
“Why so soon?”
“To try to quash all thoughts of retribution.”
“But?”
“But the father of the dead boy wants the daughter of the murderer executed.”
“That’s obscene,” Lois burst out, before she could stop herself. “And stupid and primitive and callous and –.”
Too late, she saw that her tirade had wounded Kal. “They have so little,” he said quietly. “Their lives are hard. There are few children born. To lose one is an overwhelming loss.”
“All the more reason to protect the life of the murderer’s child.”
“I agree,” Kal said dolefully. “And that is what I am trying to do. I spoke with the parents of the murdered child today. I entreated them not to retaliate. But they had only one child - and he is now gone. They cannot see past their anger.”
“Are the two families from different sides of the old Krypton border?” Lois asked with sudden insight.
“Yes,” Kal admitted – as if it represented a personal failing. “The child was Southside, the murderer was Northside.” His hands clenched to tight fists. “The rivalry still simmers ... one spark ... one incident like this ... and ...”
Lois covered his hand with hers ... and this time she did not pull away. “Have you considered taking the child who is in danger?” Lois asked softly. “Maybe bringing her here, so she will be safe while the grieving parents get over their anger?”
Kal sighed – long and tortured - as if he had dragged it from a well of weariness buried deep within him. “Kryptonians don’t forget.”
“So her life will be in danger ... for ...”
“A long time,” Kal said. “Possibly the remainder of her life. And she has only her mother to protect her. If she were over seventeen, I could take her.”
As a concubine, Lois thought. “How old is she?
“Nine.”
“Have you ever wondered if executing the murderer is the best way of dealing with a situation like this?”
“I hate the executions,” Kal said. His voice shook with a vehemence that shocked her. “I hate the look in the eyes of the person about to die. But I have to be there. I have to sign the Notice of Execution.”
His fist was rigid under her hand. Lois caressed his tension with the side of her thumb.
“I hate it,” Kal repeated, with no less intensity. “But if we didn’t do it, all of the murderer’s family would have been killed that night – his wife, his daughter, his sister. Then there would be counter-attacks. By his execution, I hoped to prevent civil war.”
Lois said nothing.
“You think we are a barbaric people,” Kal said with jaded resignation.
“I just ... don’t understand.”
“Do your people execute murderers?”
“Sometimes,” Lois said. “But only after a long time and many trials to ascertain guilt or innocence.”
“We don’t have a long time,” he said desolately.
Lois could no longer remain unmoved by his anguish. She grasped his upper arm and gently ran her hand down it, feeling the outline of his bulk under his thick jacket.
His hand captured hers and held it there, then took it to his lap.
“You are a good man,” she said. “Never doubt that you are a good man ... and a fine leader.”
Kal put his other hand on top of hers. “Thank you.”
Lois slowly withdrew her hand, fighting a prodigious desire to advance, not back away. “Eat your supper,” she said. “We need to work on the disputes.”
He repositioned the plate on his lap and loaded his stick with the green vegetable. “What did you do this afternoon?”
“I am writing a children’s book.”
His stick hesitated before ever reaching his mouth. “A book for children?”
“Yes.” She remembered the books on the shelves in the chambers. “You have books.”
“But not for children.”
“You don’t have any books for children?”
“Why would children be interested in accounts and Kryptonian Law?”
“Children’s books are about things that interest children.”
Lois could see this was a new concept for Kal. She rose and brought her story notes and her pictures to the bed. She held up the first picture and read from her notes. Then she picked up the second picture and continued reading. When she had finished the story, she looked at Kal.
“When did this happen?” he asked.
“I wrote it this afternoon.”
“No, when did the boy drop his lunch and eat the other boy’s food?”
“It didn’t happen. It’s a story.”
“A ... staw-ee?”
She recognised his attempt to repeat a word that hadn’t translated in Kryptonian. “A story,” she said clearly.
“What is a ... story?”
“It’s when someone writes something from their imagination so that others can enjoy reading it.”
“You do this on your planet?”
“Yes. A lot. People, called authors, write stories,” Lois explained. “Sometimes very long and involved stories. Their stories are made into books and other people buy the book for the pleasure of reading the story.”
“But the events didn’t happen? Not ever?”
“There are some books about events that did happen, but many, many books are about events that happened only in the author’s imagination.”
“So they’re fabrication?”
“Not fabrication exactly,” Lois hedged.
“Why?”
“Because the people who buy the book know it isn’t true.”
“Then why read it?”
“For enjoyment.”
“And people write stories for children?”
Lois nodded. “If the child is too young to read, the parents read the words and the child looks at the pictures.”
Kal stared at her, looking bewildered. He shook his head slightly. “Where does the child sit?”
“When the parent reads a story to him or her?”
“Yes.”
“It varies. Often on the parent’s lap.” Lois tapped her thighs in case he wasn’t familiar with the word ‘lap’. “The parent holds the child and together they enjoy the story. It’s a special time for both of them.”
Kal stared at her, looking like he was grappling with ideas he found incomprehensible.
“Your people can read, can’t they?” Lois said. “You told me about the schools on Krypton.”
“Yes, my people can read. Our education system now is poorer than it was on Krypton, but all children learn to read.”
“What do they read?”
“Words. Sentences.”
“But not stories?”
“Not untrue stories.”
“We don’t think of them as untrue.”
He straightened in his chair and loaded his stick. “I understand what you are saying,” he said. “I don’t understand the motivation for it.”
“It’s a way of ... forgetting all your problems for awhile and ... imagining you are in a different world. It’s like an escape ... it makes the difficulties of real life easier to deal with.”
Some of the perplexity left Kal’s face and his mouth eased to a small smile. “Like being in here with you,” he said. “It’s like a different world ... but it makes it easier to deal with everything out there.” He gestured to the door behind him.
Lois’s heart wanted to melt in her chest. “You like me being here?”
“Very much.”
She wanted to fly to him and put her arms around his neck and hug him. She wanted to tell him she liked being with him.
She wanted to tell him she loved him.
But she couldn’t do that. That would be like pushing off the top of a very steep, very long slide. And Lois wasn’t sure she was ready for the ride.
Kal looked again at her pictures. “There are no words in your book.”
“I can’t write Kryptonian.”
“I can.”
“Would you write the words to go with my pictures?”
“If you would read it to me again.”
“Of course.” Lois smiled and Kal returned her smile.
When they had finished eating, Lois and Kal moved to the desk. She dictated her words as he wrote them. Lois surveyed the end result, pleased. “All we need now is a title,” she said.
“How about ‘Sharing Lunch’?” Kal suggested.
Lois’s natural inclination was for something a little less obvious, but she smiled and said, “Good idea.” She took a blank piece of paper and gave it to him. “Would you write ‘Sharing Lunch’ in big letters on here, please?”
He did and then handed it back to her.
“I’ll draw the front picture tomorrow,” Lois said.
“I want to finish it tonight.”
“OK, I’ll draw the picture now.”
Kal stood and offered her the chair. “Can I watch you draw?”
Lois laughed, a little self-consciously. “I’m a writer. I’m not very good at drawing.”
“I like your pictures.”
“Thank you.”
Lois picked up the pencil, unsure what to draw. She decided on a simple picture of the lunch. She drew a lunchbox containing some vegetable and meat.
When she had finished, Kal was smiling. “Shall I bind it?” he offered.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Kal put the seven pages together and punched three holes along the edge. Then he threaded some string through the holes and presented the finished book to Lois. “Now, could you read it to me?” he said.
“You want me to read it to you again?”
“Yes. You said you would.”
“I meant ... “ Lois took the book from him. “Where will we sit? On the bed?”
Kal’s eyes swung from her to the bed and back again.
“There’s only one chair,” Lois said. “Come on.” She picked up the book and the paper with her words and took them to the bed. She sat on one side, leaning back against the bed-head. “Come and sit here with me.”
Kal didn’t move.
“Come on,” Lois urged, patting the space next to her. “I won’t bite you.”
His confusion deepened. He took a half-step towards her.
“It was a joke,” Lois said. “About not biting you.”
He came to the bed and sat on the very edge of it – not next to her, but facing her. “What’s a ... joke?”
Again, she was stunned by his ability to master new words so easily. “A joke,” Lois said. “Something not serious.”
“Something not perilous?”
“Well, yes,” she agreed. “But more than that. A joke is something that everyone knows isn’t true, so therefore, it’s funny.”
“You’ve said ... funny ... before, but I don’t understand it.”
“Funny is something that makes you laugh.”
Kal’s face cleared a little. “I understand ‘laugh’.”
“It was supposed to be obvious that I wouldn’t bite you ... so it was a joke.”
“If I were an Earth man, what would I have done?”
“Probably smiled at the thought of someone as small as me even thinking about biting someone as strong and big as you.”
“You couldn’t do it.”
Lois chuckled. “That’s why it was funny.”
Kal smiled hesitantly. “Next time you say a joke, could you tell me? I want to understand.”
“Kal, have you ever heard a Kryptonian laugh?”
“No.”
“Ever seen one cry?”
“No.”
There was emptiness on his face – as if he was just beginning to understand that his people had missed something of great value. An insistent impulse tugged at Lois. She ached to hold him. Not kiss him necessarily, but to hold him, to fill where he was empty, to heal where he was bruised and to nurture where he’d been neglected.
She patted the place next to her on the bed. “Come and sit next to me; I promised I would read you this story.”
He sat next to her – closer to the edge of the bed than to her.
Lois smiled and held up the book. “Sharing Lunch,” she said. “By Lois Lane.” She opened the first page and began to read. “One day, two boys were outside ...”
Lois moved through the pages. She read slowly and paused at the end of each page. When she’d finished, she closed the book and turned to Kal. “How was that? Did you enjoy it?”
“I don’t know.”
Lois smiled. “That’s OK,” she said. “I’m going to write another story tomorrow. I’ll read it to you if you want me to.”
Kal didn’t respond. He seemed dazed. Surely such a simple, childish story could not have had such a significant effect on a grown man. More than a man – a commander of his people – an intelligent, caring leader.
It couldn’t be the story. His mind must have drifted back to the dangers facing the murderer’s daughter. “Kal, do you know what a hug is?” Lois asked.
“No.”
She’d figured as much.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you look like you need one right now.”
“I do?”
Lois nodded and rose from the bed. “Stand up,” she said as she walked around the bed. Her heart was thumping and a significant part of her brain was hammering its insistence that this was possibly a very bad idea. But Lois could not endure Kal’s haunted look a moment longer.
He rose from the bed and stood – looking awkward.
Lois approached him. “I am going to hug you,” she said. “If you don’t like it, you can ask me to stop and I will.”
“Is it like the kiss?”
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?”
Instead of trying to explain, Lois stepped forward and slid her arms around his neck. She gathered him close. She felt him tense.
His hands stayed by his side.
But he didn’t pull away.
Every part of her reacted to their contact. Lois could feel the taut arches of his shoulders under her arms and the firm breadth of his chest as she leant against him. She laid her head on the slope of his shoulder and waited for about five seconds, then, ignoring the protest from within, drew away from him.
Lois glanced up. Kal’s face had reverted to blankness. She didn’t even want to try to guess why.
+-+-+-+
Kal felt like the room had filled with hot gel and he was drowning in it.
Lois had stepped right up to him and draped her body along his.
No one else touched him. Ever.
Certainly no one else came boldly into his space as she had done.
She’d said it was a hug.
It was over way, way too soon. When she’d backed away, she’d left him destitute.
Kal inhaled a big, ragged breath, trying to feed his lungs the oxygen they were demanding. His glance to Lois’s face told him she was waiting for him to speak.
He wanted to ask her to do it again, but when he’d done that after the kiss, she’d run from his room.
He had no other words.
So he stood there ... and waited for her to give him the clue about what happened next.
After moments of uncomfortable silence, she said. “Was that all right?”
It was incredible, Kal thought. “Yes,” he replied. In his own ears, his answer sounded like he’d had to scrape it up his throat. That’s what it felt like too. Kal swallowed again. “That was a hug?” he said.
“Yes.” Her voice didn’t sound completely normal either.
“Your people do that to each other?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lois sat on the bed. Kal brought the chair from the desk and sat on it ... close to the bed, but not too close. “For a variety of reasons.”
“Tell me some of the reasons.”
“When you are feeling bad on the inside, a friend will give you a hug – to help you feel better.”
“Is that why you did it?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know I was feeling bad?”
“You looked like you were hurting on the inside.”
He was hurting more now. Maybe not more. But before Lois’s hug, it had been a vague ache ... now it was an insistent demand. He wanted her to do it again. Wanted it so badly, it hurt.
Kal stood from the chair. At the same moment, Lois stood from the bed. The next thing Kal knew, her arms were around his neck and her body was again aligned with his.
He could feel her choppy breaths against his chest.
Then she withdrew again and he wanted to snatch her back.
“Can I show you something?” she asked.
Kal nodded.
Lois took his hands in hers and stepped close to him again. She manoeuvred his arms around her and then slid her hands up his shoulders and behind his neck. “Hold me closer, Kal,” she whispered.
Kal tightened his arms around Lois’s small body. His questions swirled through his mind – a mind that had been reduced to total turmoil. Why? Why hadn't she done this before now? Why did it feel so unbelievably good? And most of all, would she do it again?
He could feel Lois’s fingers on the back of his neck. They felt so good, his entire spine tingled.
He could feel her head resting on his shoulder. Its subtle weight birthed in him the powerful pledge to protect her always.
He could feel her body between his arms. It felt like the missing part of him had been found – and, for the first time in his life, he was whole.
She felt so good.
And somehow, that good feeling worked its way inside him and dissolved his despair.
Lois said Earth people did this to each other when they hurt on the inside.
He knew why.
He didn’t know how. But he knew that when this hug stopped, he would want her to do it again. Desperately want her to do it again. Probably even more than he wanted her to kiss him again.
He recalled the kiss. No, not more. He *really* wanted her to kiss him again.
Then an idea struck him with such force, his mind reeled.
Did Earth people ever hug *and* kiss at the same time? If Lois were to lift her head off his shoulder and tilt her face up, she would be in exactly the right position for him to connect his mouth with hers.
She didn’t. Which was probably fortunate. The air that had abandoned his lungs seemed to have gathered in his head, which was playing havoc with his balance.
If she kissed him, he doubted he would remain standing.
Then Lois eased away from him. Kal withdrew his arms and let them hang at his side. He looked into her face and was alarmed to see the moisture in her eyes. Tears, that’s what she called them.
Were they good tears? Or bad tears?
Had he squeezed her too tightly? He had to know. “Did I hurt you?” he asked anxiously.
Lois shook her head. “No,” she said with a tiny smile. “These are good tears.”
“Why?”
“Because of you.”
He didn’t understand, but there was something else more important – something he really had to know. “Did you like hugging me?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll do it again?”
She paused. “Yes,” she said quietly.
“You don’t seem too sure,” Kal said.
Lois smiled through her tears. “I’m sure,” she said.
“I won’t bite you.”
For an instant she looked shocked. Then she smiled and her laughter rang out.
Kal smiled. “That was a joke,” he said.
Lois put her hand on his chest. “I know,” she said. “It was very funny.”
“Why was it funny?” Kal asked. “You said a joke is when everyone knows it can’t happen. I’m big enough that I could bite you if I wanted to.”
Lois took her hand from his chest and rested it lightly along his jaw. “It’s funny because you wouldn’t do it. And it has nothing to do with your size and everything to do with your heart.”
He didn’t fully understand her words. He did understand something of her meaning – he’d gleaned much of that from her touch. He’d never thought such a simple action – a hand on his face – could fill him with such a feeling of ... rightness ... and the very certain knowledge that he needed her ... as much as he needed air and food. “Thank you,” he said, his voice rough.
She smiled at him and then took back her hand and stepped away. “We should be doing the disputes,” she reminded him.
Kal didn’t want to do the Disputes. But Lois was right, so he turned to his desk and got a small selection of folders from the pile. But he couldn’t stop smiling.
+-+-+-+
A significant number of Dispute folders constituted the ‘settled’ pile and the ‘waiting’ pile was as low as Kal had ever seen it.
It was time to go to bed.
Kal didn’t want Lois to go to her room. He wanted her to stay with him. He was willing to sleep on the chair. He just didn’t want her to leave him.
But how could he tell her that?
He was still trying to form the words when Lois approached him. She put her hand on his shoulder and reached up and kissed his cheek.
It was quick. Very quick. Too quick.
“Good night, Kal,” she said. Then she walked to his door.
“Good night, Lois,” Kal replied.
“See you for breakfast?”
“Yes.”
She walked out and shut the door.
She’d gone.
He’d wanted her to stay.
But a little part of her had stayed with him. Her kiss. Kal could still feel the memory of her touch on his cheek.
Tomorrow morning, he decided, when Lois first came through his door, he was going to walk right up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and touch his mouth to her cheek.
It was definitely time *he* kissed *her*.
