It's after five a.m. Sunday morning here. And I haven't been able to get to sleep yet. So, since I'm suffering from not being able to sleep (too tired to remember what it's called when you can't sleep
), I thought I'd go ahead and post the next part.
PREVIOUSLY...
In some senses, wasn’t she shooting herself in the foot by holding back when she had a flash of memory, not allowing him to help her put the memory into perspective?
On the other hand, could she trust that he would really do so honestly? But then, did she really need him to do so honestly?
At that thought, Lois sat up a little straighter. Maybe she was going about this all wrong. She didn’t really need to get her memory back. Oh, she wanted to get her memory back. In fact, it was currently driving her nuts that she couldn’t remember. But since Max was the one who could truly help her, she needed to find her way back to him. And that meant, she only needed Kent to think she had her memory back to get him to take her off this island, and back to the one person who could help her. The man who had thrown her a lifeline when she hadn’t even remembered her own name. The only man she loved.
A slow smile began to curl at the corners of her mouth as a plan began to take shape. Operation Fool Kent was about to go into effect.
* * * * * * * * *
AND NOW - PART 6
As they came to a split in the path, Lois knew that Kent was surprised when she veered to the left. He had obviously thought she would go to the right, taking them back to the cabin. Well, for this morning’s jog, she had other ideas.
She’d been thinking about her plan long into the night, working it through in her mind. Her first step had to be not let him know of her continued hostility towards him. The snide comments had to stop. So did her calling him Kent. Obviously, they had been on a first name basis before she’d lost her memory. So calling him Kent was a clear sign that she still didn’t really remember.
And to that end, she had to quit calling him Kent in her mind, too. It still felt weird, though. Hopefully it would get easier with time and practice. She’d repeated the name Clark in her mind for quite a while last night and it still felt funny.
And, as much as she might despise him for taking her away from the only man she loved and the one man who could truly help her regain her memory, she had to make him think that they were friends.
The one thing she had to be careful about was not to go too fast, not to let him suspect her true motives. That would put him on his guard, making it more difficult to get him to give her the information she needed in order to convince him that her memory had returned.
She slowed her pace until she was finally walking when she rounded the next turn in the bend and came upon the waterfalls.
“What are we doing here?” Clark asked. “I thought you wanted to get back to work on those articles this morning.”
“Oh, come on, Kk...lark! Lighten up. Working too hard can’t be good for people with amnesia either.”
When he looked skeptical, she laughed and spun away from him to jog over to the pool at the foot of the falls. Ignoring the way her heart was pounding and the dryness in her mouth, she took off her shoes and socks before she began stripping off her sweaty tank top.
“What are you doing?” Clark asked in a slightly strangled voice.
She smiled, getting her own nerves under control when she realized that this was affecting him the way she’d hoped.
“Haven’t you ever gone swimming before?” she asked over her shoulder as she continued on her mission, stripping off her sweat pants. After one final look over her shoulder to see Clark’s slack jaw, she giggled and dove into the pool wearing nothing but her underwear.
When she came back up, she pushed her hair out of her face and turned to look at Clark, still on shore and looking slightly suspicious.
She let out a sigh, swimming closer. “Okay, so you’re wondering why I’m not giving you the cold shoulder today,” she said, deciding that her best strategy was to confront the issue that was undoubtedly going through his mind directly.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Well, I haven’t been completely honest with you.” She ducked her head slightly, trying to look sheepish.
“How so?”
“I’ve been having... I don’t know. I guess you’d call them flashes of memory.” Best to couch a lie in the truth, after all.
“You have?” He stepped closer, obviously hanging on her every word. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was still annoyed with you for kidnapping me. Childish, huh?”
“No. I guess I can understand that. So... what do you remember?”
“Not what you want me to remember,” she said, figuring if she confessed her undying love for him now, he’d know she was lying. No. She had to take it slow. “I mean, I don’t remember our engagement. And I still love only Max. But I do remember that we were friends.”
“Best friends,” he automatically added, but she noticed that he visibly stiffened at the mention of Max.
“Best friends,” she repeated. She’d been taking a bit of a risk saying that they were friends. After all, a lot of couples wouldn’t exactly describe their relationship as friends when they got together. Still, it had been a calculated risk. After all, her research told her that she and Clark had been partners for almost three years. Surely that meant they’d become friends before they’d started dating.
And she was pleased that the risk had paid off. Not only did he not balk at her description of them as friends, he’d given her some additional information. Apparently, they had been best friends - or at least they referred to each other in that fashion.
As for the mention of Max... That, too, had been a calculated risk. But the mention of him would allay any suspicions Clark might have that she was lying about remembering their friendship. After all, what possible motive could she have for lying about their friendship when she still was espousing her love for another man? The important thing here was to take each step slowly.
“So what made you remember our friendship?”
She took a deep breath. She’d spent the night working on her answer to this question. “It was a bunch of little flashes, really. I can remember you cooking supper for me at your apartment. And I remembered the times you made me some ridiculous blend of tea.” At least she assumed it was probably more than once - especially given all the herb teas he prepared for her now. “And I can remember dancing with you.” She couldn’t - but she had seen a photo taken of them at the White Orchid Ball - so she knew they had danced at least once. “I can remember that I really like dancing with you,” she added, figuring that was a safe thing to say. She’d flirted with the idea of saying that he was a good dancer, but had rejected that. After all, he might be a terrible dancer - and he might know that she thought so. But surely he would accept that she liked dancing with him.
“I like dancing with you, too,” he said with a soft smile that made her look away.
“Anyway, I guess it was just a bunch of little things - and the feelings I felt when I remembered them - that made me remember our friendship. And although I’m still sort of ticked off at you for kidnapping me, I guess I now believe that you wouldn’t have done it unless you thought it was necessary.” She glanced at him through her eyelashes. “So are we going to continue gabbing or are you going to strip out of those clothes and join me?”
“Lo-is...”
“Come on, Clark,” she interrupted, keeping her tone light and teasing. “It’s not as if I’m asking for the full monty here.”
“Lo-is,” he groaned.
She laughed. “Come on. Live dangerously. I’m sure whatever you’ve got on under those sweats isn’t any more revealing than your swimsuit would be.”
Clark stared at her for a moment more before reaching over his head to grab the collar of his shirt. Suddenly, Lois’ silly side got the best of her and she started to chant:
“I’m too sexy for my shirt; too sexy for my shirt; so sexy it hurts.”
Clark’s movement stopped. “Lo-is,” he warned playfully, his hands dropping back to his sides.
“What? I’m just providing you with a little inspiration. Don’t stop on my account.”
He looked at her a moment more before again reaching for his shirt.
“I’m too sexy for my shirt; too sexy for... What?” she asked when he stopped again.
“Okay, that’s it,” he said, turning his back towards her before grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head.
“Hey, no fair!” she objected.
He glanced at her over his shoulder as he knelt down to remove his shoes. “As I recall, this is the view you gave me.”
“Yeah. But that’s different,” she said, even as she couldn’t help but notice the way his back muscles rippled as he undid and then pulled off his shoes and socks.
“How is it different?”
“Well... because you’re... you and I’m... me.”
His socks and shoes finally off, he glanced at her again over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised, telling her without words what he thought of that explanation. A moment later, her breath caught in her throat when he pulled off his sweat pants and she caught sight of his muscular legs as well as the tight, black briefs stretched across the muscles of his posterior. He had to have the all time cutest butt.
She felt a stab of guilt. Max was waiting for her back in Metropolis. How could she be admiring another man’s buttocks? On the other hand, she was doing this to get back to Max. Besides, she was in love, not dead. And a woman would have to be dead not to appreciate Kent’s assets.
She felt heat creep up her face when he turned towards her, wondering if her final thoughts were written in big bold letters across her face. And then another thought came crashing down around her when she took in his chest for the first time.
“It’s nine o’clock. I thought you’d be naked.” The words passed her lips before she could stop them.
He was instantly next to the pond, crouching down to look more fully into her face. “You remember that?”
She nodded dumbly, forcing her eyes to crawl up his chest and fix resolutely on his face. “You answered the door wearing nothing but a towel.”
“Right. It was while we were working on the story about the Messenger - our first story together; my first story at the Planet.”
She felt the color begin to cool in her cheeks as her mind was distracted from the magnificent specimen of male flesh in front of her. She wondered if he realized how much information he’d just given her. Maybe she could get a little more. “I can’t believe I would have been that forward when I didn’t even know you.”
“You weren’t,” Clark was quick to assure her. “You corrected yourself immediately. You meant to say ‘ready.’” When she just stared at him blankly, he continued. “It’s nine o’clock. I thought you’d be ready.”
Her mind cleared. “Uhh... so... a Freudian slip then?”
Clark smiled. “I like to think so.”
She smiled back. “So what are you still doing out there?” she asked, more because she hoped her equilibrium would return when she couldn’t see quite so much of him than in order to get him in the pool.
Almost instantly, he jumped, landing like a cannonball in the water next to her. Water went flying everywhere, completely drenching her.
“Clark! You’re going to regret that!” she exclaimed before attacking.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark smiled as he glanced over at Lois. She didn’t seem to notice, so focused was she on drying the dishes as quickly as he could wash them. His smile widened. She was so competitive in everything she did.
When she’d first jumped into the pool this morning, he’d wondered exactly what she had been up to. It had even crossed through his mind that she was attempting to seduce him. He almost laughed now at the thought. Sure, she’d flirted with him - but she’d always done that. Or almost always. But when they were in the water, although she’d been physical with him - again, something she’d always done - she’d never pushed the boundaries.
She’d been acting like his best friend.
Okay, so maybe part of him wished that she remembered being in love with him. But after the agony of the past month and his fears that she’d never forgive him, best friends wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all.
“Hey, Pokey, concentrate on what you’re doing?” Lois demanded, giving him a flick of her towel.
He glanced at the drain board and smiled. She’d caught up to him - again.
“Nag, nag, nag. That’s all you ever do,” Clark responded playfully even if he pulled another plate up to wash it.
Even now, he would be tempted to believe that she was just pretending to remember their friendship. But her memory, ‘it’s nine o’clock; I thought you’d be naked,’ proved that she was telling the truth about her memory flashes. That memory was simply too specific to be anything but genuine. And since they were the only two people who had known about it, it had to have been real.
Besides, why would she pretend to remember that they were friends, and yet not remember that they were engaged? It made no sense. And then there was her comment about Max. ‘I love only Max.’ Why would she tell him that if she were lying about the rest? She had to know how he would react to that.
But certainly, the day had been much more productive as a result of their working together. After swimming, they’d returned to the cabin where, this time, she’d asked for his help in reviewing various stories. He’d been thrilled. Together, they’d always been better than either of them was alone. He thought she had probably realized that, too, because, as a result, she’d had a few other flashes of memory that went beyond the information provided on the page.
For example, when they had been going through their article on the children who had gotten smart by taking a potentially lethal chemical compound called Mentamide 5, Lois had remembered that he’d taken advantage of a privileged interview situation to grab potentially incriminating evidence from an unsuspecting subject. She’d also remembered loving that.
On the other hand, there were times when her memories got slightly mixed up, sometimes to humorous effect. For example, it had taken all of his powers of persuasion to convince her that when the Prankster had come after her the first time, neither Clark nor Lois had stripped down to their underwear in order to show each other their various battle scars - that what she was remembering was from Lethal Weapon 3, which they had watched one evening while working on that story.
Even after she’d claimed to be convinced, he’d caught her looking at him on several occasions, as if trying to see if he had any scars that she might not have noticed while they’d been swimming.
Still, they had made progress today. Their friendship, which he had feared would be damaged forever, had been restored and she was beginning to remember things. As a result, for the first time since Lois had announced that she was going with Deter to the south of France, Clark felt hopeful.
Besides, one thing he couldn’t complain about was Lois’ determination to get her memory back. She might have balked at some of his suggestions. But she was eating the food he prepared, taking ginkgo every morning, drinking his teas, even participating in things he knew she thought were a waste of time - like meditation. And when she wasn’t doing that, she was devouring the information he’d brought her, making notes and now, sharing with him when some piece of information was causing her to have a flash of memory.
“So what do you say that we take our tea into the living room?” Lois asked, as they finished cleaning up the remainder of the dishes.
“Sounds like a plan,” Clark said with a grin, giving the sink a final rinse before turning to join her.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Operation Fool Kent was going well. For the past two days, she’d manage to swallow her anger at him and fall into the role of friend. In fact, it felt somewhat natural to do so. And to tell the truth, she’d had a number of memory flashes that indicated that they had been more than partners at work - they had been friends. She, of course, had played up all of these to Clark, and had him fill in details that she hadn’t remembered. Sometimes these conversations even provoked further memories for her.
Other memories, however, she hadn’t shared with him because they didn’t fit quite right into the ‘friend’ category or for other reasons - some of which were because she wasn’t sure if he knew about those. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she wasn’t sure he knew about one memory she had in particular.
This memory had come to her when they’d been studying the stories about the Prankster. She knew it wasn’t the Prankster in her memory. But they had the same general build, similar hair styles - although their hair, if she recalled correctly, was parted on different sides. Still, they’d had the same facial shape and were of similar height. The man in her memory had been wearing a brown suit, done up to the collar, with a blue blazer. She’d been standing in front of him and could still clearly remember her words to his query about her decision.
‘All right. You win. I'll keep my promise. Tonight, my body is yours. But my heart... my heart beats only for one man.’
So... had she and Clark been dating when she’d said those words to another man? She wasn’t sure. And she didn’t dare ask. After all, if they had been dating, it almost sounded as if she’d cheated on him. But it also sounded as if she’d felt she didn’t have much choice. Had it been something she had done to save his life... or her own?
Her mind wanted to reject the very idea that she would have done something like that. That she wouldn’t have found another way. But the words were so perfectly crystal clear. She had to accept the fact that she had slept with one man when she was in love with another. Even if it were for the best of intentions, she felt dirty just remembering it. She hadn’t even been attracted to the man. In fact, if she recalled correctly, he had made her skin crawl.
Not quite the way Clark made her feel. In fact, all it had taken that first morning was seeing his bare feet to get her all hot and bothered.
That thought seemed to jump at her out of nowhere, stunning her slightly. She pushed it away quickly. It didn’t matter what she felt for Clark, she knew only one truth - she loved only Max. Her thoughts of Clark didn’t matter.
Another of her recent memories suddenly popped into her mind. Another one she hadn’t shared with Clark. This one had come when they’d been studying the investigation into the death of Mason Drake. Standing on the street corner. Clark making some nonsensical comment about it being fortunate that there were no doors there. And then... his eyes flicking down to her lips. His moving towards her, as if in slow motion. The look of longing in his eyes before her own eyes had drifted closed. Their lips lightly touching. And then, before she was ready, him pulling back. His hands cradling her head. His lips coming down upon hers a second time, this time with more confidence, more intent. The feeling of her toes curling.
She gave her head a shake to try to clear it. This was pointless. Okay, so she was attracted to Clark. But that was irrelevant.
What was relevant was getting out of this place. What was relevant was getting back to Max who would help her regain her memory in more than just confusing flashes.
And to that end, could she pretend to remember everything? Was she reasonably certain she could convince him that she remembered it all? After all, she was only going to get one chance at this.
Her mind flashed back to her words of some time ago. ‘Tonight my body’s yours. But my heart beats only for one man.’ She found herself subconsciously licking her lips. When she realized what she was doing, she instantly stopped.
Okay, so what did she know now about her relationship with Clark prior to her amnesia? He said they were engaged to be married. And she now was willing to believe that he was telling the truth. Not that it particularly mattered - except in the sense that she had to be certain not to mess this up. And if she acknowledged the engagement and he had been lying to her, then all bets were off. Her only hope of getting out of here was gone.
Well, she might not remember their engagement, but she knew with absolute certainly that they had been lovers. Perhaps her memory of them stripping down to show each other their battle scars was faulty, but her memory of them making love was not.
This memory had come to her this evening. She wasn’t entirely sure what had triggered it. Okay, so they had been going through her photo album and she’d seen a picture of her apartment for the first time since she’d lost her memory. And she had been feeling Clark’s breath lightly against her hair as he’d stood, looking over her shoulder pointing at something in the picture. That was when she’d remembered.
She couldn’t say for certain that it was the first time they’d been together. But the desires and nerves that she remembered having at the time had certainly been intense enough.
Entangled, they’d burst through the door to her bedroom, falling together onto her bed. Lips had barely broken contact before finding each other again. Heat had flowed through her veins like molten lava. His body pressing hers into the mattress as his tongue dueling with hers. His lips running over her throat, pulling a moan of longing up from deep in her belly. Her hands, desperately pulling at his clothing, undoing his shirt buttons, pulling the back of it out of his trousers. His lips again finding hers. Rolling them over so that her body was on top of his. Throwing her suit jacket to the side. Hands roaming over sensitive places. Her discovery that his feelings of arousal were as intense as hers. Heavy breathing. Desperate moans. The smell of sweat and musk. The feeling deep in her gut that she’d die if she couldn’t get closer.
She suddenly sat up, pushing back the memory once again, just as she had the first time. She didn’t need to pursue that memory to know what came next. For only one thing could.
She discovered that she was again licking her lips and instantly stopped. She needed to get out of here, to clear her mind.
As soon as that thought came, she was out of bed. She wrapped her robe around her and strode, barefoot, out of the room. She was halfway across the cabin when she heard a sleepy voice come from the direction of the couch.
“Lois?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. This was exactly what she didn’t need right now. His husky, sleep-filled voice shot a spark of desire though her body, causing her feelings from her current memory flash to flood through her again. “I just need to get out of here for a while,” she said, her voice slightly strangled, before practically bolting for the door.
‘I love only Max. I love only Max,’ she silently repeated to herself in time with the soft padding of her bare feet hitting the smooth trail as she jogged towards the waterfalls.
When she reached the edge of the water, she stripped off her robe and the light cotton t-shirt and instantly dove into the water. She came up out of the water again, almost surprised that there wasn’t steam rising from the surface of the pond as the water desperately tried to cool the fire in her body. She’d needed that. Badly. In fact, only an hour or two more in this cold water, and her body temperature might almost be back to normal.
“Lois?”
Lois looked up to see Clark standing near the edge of the pool. She watched his eyes widen as he saw what she was wearing - or, more accurately, not wearing.
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
