From last time:
“Congratulations on the house, Clark,” Dr. Friskin said warmly.
“Thanks,” he replied with a smile. “We’re really excited about it, but it needs a lot of work. We’ve been so busy we haven’t even started yet.”
“And work is still going well?”
“Yeah. I still miss being a reporter. I think I always will. But it’s good work. I still get to help get the truth published, to make sure people are informed about the world. I get to work with Lois again. Whenever I need a second opinion on whether to run with a story or what to lead with, she’s right in the office next door.”
“So you’re happy,” Dr. Friskin said.
“I am,” he agreed. After a long pause, he added, “mostly.”
“You’re still having the nightmares, aren’t you?”
“Some nights,” he admitted. “It’s not that bad, though.”
“Have they decreased in intensity?” He shook his head. “Frequency?” Clark shook his head again. “But you’re coping?”
“I’m trying to get used to the new normal for us,” he said.
“Are they affecting your life besides your sleep?”
He frowned as he tried to figure out what to say. “Sometimes. Lois and I alternate patrols, but when we hear something on the news, some emergency, she still takes most of the tough ones. Fatality accidents. The worst fires. That sort of thing.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Frustrated sometimes. But mostly? Relieved. I don’t mean to burden her with the hardest calls, but we both know she’s still better able to handle them than I am. I’m not sure when that’s going to change. Or if it ever will.”
********
New stuff:
“So what do you think, Martha?” Jonathan asked as he picked at his vegetables.
“I love Metropolis,” she said. “You know that. But you’ve never been nearly as excited about it.”
“I’m not a fan of the rat race,” he agreed. “But it would be nice to be close to the kids, and to be able to spend time with Jon.”
“And without a farm to run, there isn’t much for us to do here,” his wife said.
“Metropolis has all your favorite museums and galleries…”
She put her hand on top of his, smiling to herself when he interlaced their fingers and squeezed gently. “Jonathan, you know I’ll be happy there, but will you?”
“If I’m with you, I’ll be happy,” he assured her.
********
“Easy,” she whispered. “We’re almost there.” Clark looked down at the street below, barely illuminated by the streetlamps. They touched down gently with their pallets of limestone and granite. The project had taken them across half the planet, looking for just the right materials. It was morning in the Mediterranean when they’d taken delivery of rosewood and cedar in Turkey and stone for the countertops and floors in Italy. The time difference meant that they could bring it all back here without people wondering why the city’s resident superheroes had gone into the construction business. Everything was moved at night, quietly so as to not disturb the neighbors with their massive efforts.
He was thrilled at the progress they were making and impressed at what Lois had picked up about renovating from her work with his dad on the addition to the farmhouse. She found inspiration for the interior from all sorts of sources and secretly, nothing made him happier than catering to his wife’s decorative whims. Granted, she seemed less enthused than he was to read about all the latest techniques in plumbing and electrical work, but the easy give and take of partnership extended even into this new field.
His parents had agreed to the idea of moving to Metropolis the week before and were staying in the apartment at night with Jon while he and Lois worked on the renovations. The work was all done at superspeed, but they couldn’t make caulk or paint dry any faster, so it still took some time. And it wasn’t as though superpowers made Lois any faster at picking out floorings or fixtures.
They worked methodically, room by room to turn the old, rundown brownstone into a home. As he placed the load of limestone in the entry, he looked around at their handiwork, still unfinished, but in his mind’s eye, he could see what was unfolding before them. With their hands and no small amount of superpowers, they were building a life together. Once all the materials were inside and off the street, he began the task of laying the tile in the downstairs bathrooms. It took mere seconds to complete. He heard footsteps behind him as his wife approached. Like him, she’d changed out the uniform and into a t-shirt and jeans she didn’t mind getting paint and spackle and grout on. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and hugged him tightly.
“Nice work,” she declared, her simple compliment filling him with an almost primitive pride. Like work on the farm, doing something with his hands—making something solid and tangible and real—gave him a satisfaction nothing else could really duplicate. Here, there was a new sense of worth. What he hadn’t provided his family with for those four years, he could provide them with now – a permanent home, a sense of stability, an easy and familiar comfort in the knowledge that he would be there for them, tomorrow and beyond. He felt almost like the father and husband he’d always hoped he would be.
“Thanks,” he whispered softly.
“The kitchen tiles and counters are in,” she replied, surprising him with the speed of her work. He wondered how it was that she managed to keep surprising him. Shouldn’t he have figured out to always expect the unexpected with Lois Lane? He turned around to pull her into his arms.
“Come on,” she whispered. “It’s late.”
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“No,” she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “race you home,” before darting out, leaving him at a distinct disadvantage because he had to lock up. But he didn’t mind. His wife had a tendency to be rather magnanimous in victory, he thought idly with a self-satisfied smile.
********
Lois took the elevator to the Planet’s daycare center. Even with her in-laws living with them now, she did want Jon to spend at least a few mornings a week with other kids his age. He’d made friends at daycare and was always eager to go on Tuesdays and Thursdays to play with them. She stepped off the elevator and walked into the controlled chaos of Daily Tots.
As soon as she entered the room, Jon looked up from his blocks, his eyes lighting up. “Mommy!” he exclaimed as he ran toward her.
“Hey there, kiddo!” she said with a grin as she picked her little boy up and spun him around. “How was your day?”
“Fun!” he said. “We got stickers.” He pointed to the Superman sticker on his elbow.
“Wow,” she said. “Are you ready to go see Grandpa for lunch?” Jon nodded enthusiastically. Jonathan had planned to spend the afternoon with his grandson while Martha and Lois worked on the in-law apartment in the new house. Things were taking shape quickly. More quickly than she could have imagined. It was thrilling to see Clark so clearly in his element. He may have been a wordsmith, but she could see the satisfaction in his expression as they finished each task and each room. This was tangible proof of progress in their lives. They were building a future together.
She dropped Jon off with her father-in-law and she and Martha made their way to Parkside Hill. “It’s still a mess,” Lois apologized as she opened the door. Her in-laws hadn’t seen the interior of the house since they’d started renovations in earnest.
“Oh my,” Martha whispered. “I can’t believe how much you’ve done with the place.”
Lois scanned the entryway to the house. The hardwood floors had been laid and the crown moldings installed. The wainscoting and wallpaper would follow shortly. “Yeah, but we still need to furnish all of it.” She flicked on the lights, which seemed to get Clark’s attention. He came bounding down the stairs, a smile on his face.
“Hey Mom, hey sweetheart,” he said.
“Hi honey,” Lois replied as she gave her husband a quick kiss. “I wanted to show your mother the apartment.”
“I just laid the floors in there,” Clark said.
“We’ll float,” Lois said with a shrug.
She showed the apartment, still under construction, to Martha. They floated somewhat awkwardly through the living room and the kitchen, the bedroom and the parlor that Martha had planned to turn into an art studio. “It looks wonderful,” Martha said.
“You ready to go pick out paint and wallpaper?” Lois asked.
“Absolutely,” her mother-in-law replied.
They traveled the old fashioned way—by cab—through the streets of Metropolis. “I’m so glad that you’re all adapting to the move so well,” Martha said with a smile as they waited in traffic.
“So am I. Honestly, Martha, I wasn’t sure it would be this easy. But Clark likes his new job and I love being back at the Planet. I know Jon missed you two when we first came out here, but he’s so happy now that you’re with us.”
“We love being with you. All three of you,” Martha said.
“It hasn’t been hard on Jonathan?” Lois asked.
“He’s adjusting,” Martha said. “He’s started volunteering as a docent at the National Historical Society. I think he really likes being surrounded by so many other Civil War history buffs.”
The cab finally reached their destination and Lois paid the driver. “That’s great,” she said as she shut the taxi door. She hesitated for a moment before saying anything. “Clark’s still having the nightmares. He never wants to talk about them.”
“And you’re worried…” Martha began.
“Of course I am. It’s like we’ve shifted into neutral. We’re literally building our life together and most of the time, everything is great. But it hurts, to see him wake up in the middle of the night, this hunted look in his eye, and know that he doesn’t want to let me in.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“I’ve tried. But I’m afraid to push too hard. He tells me everything is fine and I know how much it bothers him to feel like he’s constantly being second-guessed.”
“I wish I knew what to tell you, honey,” Martha said. “I know how stubborn he can be. But he knows that you’re there for him. He knows that you love and support him.”
Lois nodded unenthusiastically. “I just wish there was more I could do for him.”
********
By the time they’d returned to the brownstone, Clark had finished installing the wainscoting and hanging the wallpaper on the first floor. Lois marveled at how different the place looked; it was almost inhabitable. Her husband came down the stairs, fresh paint speckled on his jeans.
“You finished painting, too?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Just waiting for it to dry.”
“That sounds exciting,” she said with a smirk.
“Well, I was also editing the piece on campaign finance reform,” he added as he kissed her on the cheek. “Hey Mom, how was the shopping?”
“Great,” she replied.
“I’m going to install the light fixtures, then we can meet Jon and Dad for dinner,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder with the screwdriver in his hand. He dashed up the stairs at superspeed.
“Will this take long?” Martha asked. By the time she’d finished the sentence, he’d returned. “Guess not,” Martha said with laughter in her voice.
“Come on, let’s go,” Clark replied with a smile.
********
Clark stretched his arms out as he swooped over the south side of the city. The air was growing warmer, which meant more people outside and more crimes. Summer was still months away, so the worst of it was still in the future, but the early spring’s thaw had ended the slowdown that winter invariably brought to life in the city. Of course, Metropolis in winter was still going a million miles an hour faster than just about anywhere else.
Lois intended to use their powers to good effect this weekend as they furnished the new house. He wanted to get a few highly visible patrols in before then. The sound of gunshots stopped him dead, turning his blood to ice. He lost altitude, but quickly halted his descent. There was a scream and the squeal of tires, bringing him painfully back to the present. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. ‘Find the source of the scream. Move. Go faster. Time’s running out.’ His rational mind knew what to do. His body was paralyzed.
‘Dammit, Kent, move!’ his mind screamed at him.
He heard a sonic boom as Lois rocketed across the sky. She dove down toward the scene of the shooting, not five hundred yards south of where he was suspended in the sky. It was enough to shake him out of his stupor. He followed her down to the street. She’d already gathered up the victim in her arms. He was just a kid.
“The shooter drove down Hobbs Street,” she yelled tersely to him before taking off.
She was telling him to give chase. Get the bad guy. He could do this. What choice did he have? He couldn’t let some cold-blooded thug get away just to shoot someone again tomorrow. Clark took off in pursuit, quickly finding the speeding car as it dodged and weaved its way through traffic. He dropped down low behind the car, grabbing its bumper and pulling it to a halt. The smell of burning rubber filled the air. He ignored the sounds of screaming tires and the driver’s gunning of the engine. With a burst of speed, he pulled the driver—cursing loudly and flailing his limbs—out of the car.
Ignoring the insults and screams of his unwilling passenger, Clark carried him, grim-faced to the nearest police precinct and dumped him in the custody of Metropolis’s finest. He felt dizzy, his head swimming as he slowly flew back to the apartment. The place was silent. His parents and Jon were asleep. He beat his wife home, but only by a minute or two.
“Is the victim okay?” he asked her immediately as she entered the bedroom.
“He had a collapsed lung, but he’s stable now,” she said. “The shooter?”
“He’s in custody,” Clark said tersely.
She nodded in silent understanding. “You okay?” she asked after a long moment.
“I’m fine,” he said. It was a lie. They both knew it.
“Come here,” she whispered as she pulled him into her arms. He went willingly, his head dropping to her shoulder. Clark closed his eyes and breathed deeply the scent of her skin. He let the sound of her heartbeat, slow and steady, calm him. For a long while, neither one moved or said a word. They merely held each other in the darkness.
********
“That’s it,” Clark said as he tightened the last screw on the chandelier. He floated back down to the ground and flicked on the light switch, testing it out. He grinned at his handiwork and put his arm around Lois’s shoulders when she came to stand next to him.
“Nice job,” she said.
Clark scanned the room, admiring the way everything had come together. “You too,” he replied.
“Well, between you and your father, I had good teachers. Just don’t expect all this working around the house to translate into an ability to cook,” she warned him.
“Don’t worry,” he replied as he kissed her. “I didn’t marry you for your skills in the kitchen.”
She nudged him playfully in the elbows before taking his hand. They walked through the entire house—mostly furnished now—trying to take in the knowledge that this was really theirs. The massive staircase, the expansive master suite, the formal dining room.
“What are we going to do with all this space?” she wondered aloud as she walked through the master bedroom. Her walk-in closet was bigger than what often passed for a bedroom in this town. “I got so used to living in a shoebox apartment in this city.”
“The suite in the First Ministers’ residence on New Krypton was actually bigger than this,” Clark said. She was surprised to hear him share something about New Krypton unsolicited.
“Oh yeah?” she asked with an arched brow and an amused smile. “So this is a step down for you?”
He stepped behind her and pulled her into his arms. “Well, it had separate bedrooms and bathrooms,” he said. “Plus the secured conference room and communications center. Trust me, this is much nicer.” He dropped his head to kiss her shoulder first and then her neck…her ear… She felt a delightful shiver run through her spine. ‘How did he manage to do that to her?’ she wondered idly. But she was resolved; she wanted to see the whole house. They could come back to this room later. She was counting on it.
“Come on,” she whispered, as she took his hand.
“Do you want to christen another room first?” he asked, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
She smiled at him and tugged him out of the room. “Maybe a little later,” she said.
Finding themselves on the top floor, they explored their library slowly, drinking in everything. The hundreds of leather-bound volumes they’d managed to preserve—plus all of her books and all of his. The large, wingback chairs in front of the immense fireplace. The wrought iron spiral staircase, the cedar bookshelves that lined all the walls, the palace-sized Oriental rug covering the hardwood floor. The desks in two corners of the library--bearing their computers--were a concession to modernity in an otherwise rather timeless space. Around the room, Clark’s knickknacks and curios from his worldly travels dotted the shelves. A statue of a goddess here, a hand-carved elephant there, a mother of pearl inlaid keepsake box on yet another shelf. One area was reserved for their collective awards—more than a half dozen Kerths between them, plus a few Merriwethers and the framed certificate of her Pulitzer Prize.
She walked past their trophy shelf over to the false wall, pulling out the copy of The Count of Monte Cristo that covered the door’s hidden latch. She released the catch and the bookshelf swung open, leading to their hidden closet. Suits and boots lined the walls. All of Clark’s globes, now totaling nine, were displayed on shelves, the cabinets below them housing the awards and medals from their various knightings and her Nobel Prize. She disarmed the closet’s silent alarm so she could walk through it slowly. These two rooms—this library and its annex—contained within them the evidence of their professional careers and their success. But their hard work, their struggles and accomplishments, couldn’t be reduced to shiny award statuettes and medals. The life they’d built was about the things they’d done, the lives they’d affected, the love they shared.
In the other room, she could hear Clark putting kindling in the fireplace. The faint smell of smoke drew her back out into the library. She smiled when she saw the roaring fire, nurtured by his attention. He stood up gracefully and picked up the bottle of champagne and the flutes that were sitting on the small table between the wingback chairs. ‘Where had that come from?’ she wondered idly. Clark chilled the champagne and poured it into the flutes, extending one to her.
“Welcome home, Ms. Lane,” he said with a soft smile.
“Welcome home, Mr. Kent,” she responded, clinking her glass against his. She took a small sip before kissing her husband. He tasted like champagne. She sighed contently against his lips and let him pull her into his arms as he sat down on one of the wingback chairs. Curled up in her husband’s lap, she watched the fire burn, filling the room with a soft warmth.
He pressed his lips against her temple. “I love you,” he whispered. “So much.”
“I love you, too,” she replied.
********
“Daddy, is it a big house?” Jon asked as he looked up at his father. “Like Grandma and Grandpa’s house?”
Clark looked down at his son and smiled. Jon held both of his parents’ hands as they walked along Sullivan Lane. Grandma and Grandpa were following closely behind. “Yes, it is,” Clark replied.
He pointed out the house to his son. “It’s this one,” he said and watched as Jon ran up the stoop, his father bounding up behind him. Clark unlocked the door and Jon rushed inside.
“Careful,” Lois called in after him.
Jon began to explore the whole house. “Wow!” he exclaimed.
He ran back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “Is this room mine?” he shouted. Smiling, Clark climbed the stairs to find his little boy.
Jon was jumping on the bed in his room. “Yay!” he shouted. Clark caught him mid bounce.
“We’re not supposed to jump on the bed, little man. Even in the new house,” he said. All of Jon’s toys and books had been moved into the new room and it didn’t seem like his son was having any trouble getting used to the place.
“Okay, Daddy,” Jon replied.
“All right, let’s go find Mommy and Grandma and Grandpa,” Clark said as he gave his son a piggy back ride back downstairs. On the main floor, he opened the door leading to the interior staircase to the ground floor apartment.
“Oh my goodness, Lois it’s amazing!” Martha exclaimed as she rushed out of the art studio. Clark smiled, pleased to see his parents so happy with the apartment.
“Lois, you guys did a terrific job,” Jonathan added as he looked around the living room.
“Come on, I want you to see the garden,” Lois said proudly.
She led her in-laws to the kitchen and opened the French doors that led out to the yard. She pointed to the small garden patch. “We planted tomatoes and basil and squash,” she said. “Well, Clark planted them. He’s the one with the green thumb. By the summer, we should have some great vegetables.”
“You two have really outdone yourselves,” Jonathan said with a laugh.
“And the bedroom and the kitchen have a southern exposure,” Lois explained. “So you’ll get plenty of light.”
“Honey, we love it, we really do,” Martha assured her.
“Mommy, I love it, too!” Jon declared, still hanging on to his father’s neck.
“That’s wonderful, sweetie,” she said with a smile.
“Mommy, can we get a puppy?”
“Not so fast, little man. This is a big enough change for us right now and I don’t want to potty train a puppy with all these new carpets.”
“Can I have a brother?”
Clark met his wife’s gaze, suddenly bewildered. He could see the surprise in her expression and knew it mirrored his own. “Uhh…” he began incoherently. He put Jon back down on his feet and knelt beside his son. “Your mommy and I want you to have a little brother or sister one day. But right now lots of things are changing.”
“Maybe for my birthday next year?” Jon said with a hopeful look on his face. Clark couldn’t help but smile. He tousled his little boy’s hair and kissed his forehead.
