Clark had feelings for her. He did. Like most of his gender, he suffered from a commitment phobia. Seeing her on the arm of Luthor should amend that.
And ... Mayson couldn't wait to see Linda King's face when her arch rival from the Daily Planet sauntered into the event she had so carefully orchestrated as a Metropolis Star exclusive ... and with Lex Luthor, no less.
Part 38
Lois walked into the Herald Sun newsroom, still submerged in the dark cloud of defeat. Hawthorn had - not unexpectedly - lost to Sydney. But even worse, Richmond had easily defeated Geelong and snatched Hawthorn's place in the Eight.
Browny had assigned Lois the Fitzroy-Brisbane game, which Brisbane won easily. As she watched the game, the irony had settled like bile in her stomach. Repeatedly, she'd pushed away the lurking parallels between Fitzroy - whose future was limited to just two more games - and Hawthorn.
Lois turned on her computer and began her report - her main objective being to get it done and get to her unit as quickly as possible. However, the words proved elusive, and, try as she might, Lois could think of little that didn't read like sour grapes at the demise of a stalwart of Victorian football.
After twenty minutes of frustration, she acknowledged that everything she'd written was unusable and deleted her entire report. She crossed the newsroom to make a cup of coffee, hoping it would resuscitate her ability to write a decent match report.
She needed Clark.
"Hi, Lois."
Lois turned to see the new footy journo, Chris Torrens, behind her. "Hi, Chris," she said.
Their shared look communicated volumes.
We lost.
Badly.
We're out of the Eight.
Losing sucks.
"How are you settling in?" Lois asked.
"Good, thanks." Chris spooned coffee into her cup. "I heard you're working with Operation Payback during the week."
"Yeah. Have you heard about the rally?"
Chris nodded with a grimace. "I doubt I'll be able to get there."
"Sorry," Lois said. "I've already teed it up with Browny to get that day off."
"S'OK," Chris said reasonably. "I'm the new kid on the block. I can't expect any special favours." She stirred her coffee and then said, "I don't suppose you want to catch a bite to eat once we've finished here?"
"I have plans," Lois said, surprised at her genuine regret.
"No worries."
"Do you know anyone in Melbourne?"
"I have an aunty in Frankston."
"Anyone else? Any friends?"
Chris smiled with slightly overdone lustre. "Not yet," she said.
"Sorry about tonight," Lois said. "Perhaps some other time."
As Chris walked away, Lois wondered if her excuse had sounded feeble. She shrugged mentally as she settled back at her desk. It wasn't as if she could tell Chris that there was a chance her fiancé might fly in from Metropolis to spend the evening with her.
But ... it could be lonely in a new city - even for someone with Chris's pretty-girl looks. Lois vowed to try to find a spare hour to have coffee with her. Between working five days a week for Operation Payback, covering games at the weekend for the Herald Sun, and leaving her evenings free to be with Clark, she wasn't sure where that spare hour would fit.
And ... there was the wedding to think about.
Lois sat at her desk and stared at the dishearteningly blank screen. Her mobile phone beeped, and she seized the welcome diversion, hoping it was a message from Clark telling her he was on his way to Melbourne.
It was from Clark - but it wasn't the message she wanted.
'Hi, honey. Emergency. Sorry. Hope the Hawks won. I love you.'
Her heart plummeted further.
A shadow fell over her desk, and Lois looked up from her mobile. It was Gazza. She slipped the phone into her bag. "Hi, Gazza," she said.
He didn't respond immediately; he just stood there looking like he wished he hadn't come.
"What's the problem?" Lois asked, hoping it wasn't bad news. She missed being in the newsroom every day ... missed keeping up with what was happening in everyone's lives.
Gazza pulled up a chair and sat down. "Are you OK, Flinders?" he asked solemnly.
This wasn't a trite enquiry - she could discern that much. "I'm fine, Gazza," she said with contrived brightness.
"Are you cut up about Rubber leaving?"
She had *not* expected that question. "We always knew he wasn't here forever," she hedged.
"But we didn't know he was gonna turn out to be such a bloody good bloke."
Lois couldn't think of a response, so she merely nodded.
"Listen, Flinders," Gazza said. "I'm not blind, and it seemed you and Rubber were getting on like a house on fire. Then, suddenly, he's racked off."
"You think he left 'cause of something that happened between us?" Lois asked as her astonishment continued to build.
"Makes sense."
"No, it doesn't," Lois declared. "Clark's editor has been crook, and he requested that Clark go back early."
"Did you tell Rubber how you feel about him?"
Lois laughed. "No offence, Gazza, but if I needed advice about my love life, you would the last person I would go to."
He grinned, looking relieved that her frankness had steered them to firmer ground. "Me and the wife do all right."
"Do you love her?"
"'Course I love her," he said with more conviction than Lois would have believed possible. "Do you love Rubber?"
If she said 'yes' it would lead to further questions. But she couldn't say 'no'. She just couldn't. "That's a bit personal, isn't it?"
"He loves you."
Lois felt her mouth fall open. "How would you know?"
"I told you - I'm not blind."
"Gazza ... Clark has to be in Metropolis, and I have to be in Melbourne. We don't have a lot of wriggle room."
"But you're OK?"
"Yeah." Lois smiled at him. "Thanks, Gazza."
Her appreciation seemed to intensify his uneasiness. He stood abruptly from the seat and marched back to his desk. Lois returned her attention to her computer screen and, by an act of sheer will, hammered out a match report and submitted it. As she closed down her computer, she noticed Chris heading out of the newsroom. Lois grabbed her bag and coat and ran after her. "Hey, Chris?"
She turned. "Yeah?"
"My plans fell through," Lois said. "Do you still wanna get something to eat?"
"Sounds great," Chris said, looking pleased. "Can you suggest somewhere?"
Lois grinned. "I know just the place."
||_||
As they ate their meals, Lois realised that she liked Chris a lot. She was easy to talk to ... unpretentious ... ambitious, but not ruthless ... knowledgeable about footy, but eager to learn ... excited about her new job, but with no illusions regarding the continuing need for hard work.
Browny had chosen well.
After ordering, their conversation had opened with a Hawthorn memory ... which led to another ... and then another. The arrival of their meals did nothing to stem the flow of reminiscence that jumped haphazardly from the premierships to the great players, from the quirky incidents to the humorous anecdotes. Very quickly, Lois recognised that Chris's love for their club ran deep and true.
"Why do you barrack for Hawthorn?" Lois asked as she pushed away her empty plate. "Did you used to live in Victoria?"
Chris shook her head. "I'm a Croweater, born and bred," she said. "But my mother grew up in Camberwell."
"Does she love football?"
A shadow crossed Chris's face. "She did. She died a couple of years ago."
"Aw, Chris," Lois said. "I'm so sorry."
"Car crash," Chris said.
"Ah, no," Lois said. "That must have been awful."
"Yeah, it was."
"I'm so sorry."
"Mum and Dad decided before they were married that all the daughters would barrack for Hawthorn with Mum ... and all the sons would barrack for Richmond with Dad."
"Phew," Lois said. "You dodged a bullet there."
They grinned together. "I'm the only girl," Chris said. "I have three brothers."
"Did you get to many Hawthorn games?"
"Once a year, Mum and I would come to Melbourne for a weekend. We'd go to the footy, stay in a motel, do some shopping ..." Chris smiled wistfully. "They were the best times."
"Great memories, hey?"
Chris shrugged, a little self-consciously. "I promised Mum that if I ever had a daughter, we would go to Hawthorn games together."
"We can't let them take that away," Lois said vehemently. "We just can't."
"We can't," Chris echoed. "All they see is the big picture - the dollars and 'growing the game'. They don't see what really matters."
The waitress came to take their plates, and, during the lull in conversation, Lois found herself hoping she would be able to work with Chris.
Except working with Chris would mean that she wouldn't be in Metropolis with Clark.
"Thanks for coming, Lois," Chris said. "I haven't had too many chances to get to know my new workmates."
"How have the blokes been treating you?"
Chris smiled faintly. "They've been helpful in a work sense ... but I'm not sure they're ready to socialise with me just yet."
"They're good blokes," Lois said. "But they do feel as if we've barged into their private world, and they're not really sure whether to treat us like colleagues or women." She giggled. "It's a bit beyond them to see us as both."
Chris laughed too. "It must've been interesting being the first, and the only, female in the footy newsroom."
"It was," Lois said. "I concentrated on being the best reporter I could be and tried not to rock the boat too much."
"I think it will be easier for me because you've paved the way," Chris said.
"Have they decided on your nickname yet?" Lois asked. "Or did you bring one from Adelaide?"
"In Adelaide, I was called 'River'."
Lois nodded. "Obvious."
"Yeah, but Gazza started calling me 'Spencer', so I think I'm stuck with that."
It took a moment for Lois to make the connection, but when she did, she burst out laughing. "That's quite clever," she said.
"He said his wife thought of it."
"That figures," Lois said. "Do you know why?"
"I do now," Chris said. "Banjo told me. It's because the two major train stations in Melbourne are Flinders Street and Spencer Street - and you're Flinders."
"Sounds like they've decided to lump us together," Lois said.
Chris grinned. "Both women, both barrack for Hawthorn ... I guess that's enough."
Yeah, Lois thought, that was enough.
They paid the bill and left the cafe.
"Lois, I'm sorry if you were disappointed that your plans fell through, but it was great for me," Chris said as they headed towards Flinders Street station. "I really enjoyed chatting with you."
"I did, too," Lois said.
"Perhaps we could do it again?"
Lois hesitated. "I would like to," she said honestly. "But things are really busy now ... with Operation Payback and everything."
"That's fine," Chris said. "Are you married? Do you have a partner?"
Lois paused. "I'm not married," she said, wondering how many times in the future she would have to lie about that fact.
"Sorry," Chris said. "I didn't mean to pry."
"You didn't pry," Lois said quickly. "There is someone ... we're not married ... but it's ... complicated."
Chris nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean."
No, she didn't, but Lois smiled anyway. "Are you with someone?"
"I was," Chris said. "It broke up a couple of months ago. He found someone else."
Lois swallowed down her surprise. It hadn't been hard to discern that the blokes at the paper were agog at Chris's looks. As they'd eaten in the cafe tonight, there had been a steady stream of appreciative looks directed at her companion - although Chris had seemed oblivious. "I'm sorry," Lois said.
Chris shrugged. "Better that I find out now."
"Yeah."
"Tonight ..." Chris said hesitantly. "It wasn't that he's ... with someone else, was it?"
Lois shook her head. "No, nothing like that."
"I hope it works out for you."
"Thanks."
At Flinders Street station, they bid each other good-bye and took different trains home.
Lois stared into the darkness as rain pelted the train windows. More than anything in the world, she wanted to be with Clark.
But she didn't want to leave Hawthorn.
And she didn't want to leave her job at the Herald Sun.
And she didn't want to leave Melbourne.
And she didn't want to leave Barb, Ron, and Seb.
And ... even Chris seemed like someone who could become a really good friend.
She wanted to be with Clark.
But for the first time, the high price of relocating sat heavily on her heart.
In Metropolis, she would have Clark.
But she wouldn't have a job. Or Hawthorn. Or the Wilton family.
She tried to calm her agitation. She couldn't make any decisions until she knew the outcome of the merger vote. Once they knew that, she and Clark would decide their future together.
Lois walked the short distance from the Richmond station to her unit and arrived home wet and miserable.
Hawthorn losing. Clark not being able to visit. It hadn't been a great day. It was a mere twenty-four hours since Clark had proposed in the most romantic of ways, and cracks had already appeared in the perfection of her happiness.
She missed Clark.
In her bedroom, Lois took out her engagement ring and slipped it onto her finger.
As she stared at it, Clark's words floated back to her - telling her that his lonesomeness was his heart crying out for her. Now she was lonesome, and it was *her* heart crying out for him.
Lois quashed her melancholy.
Clark would come to her as soon as he could - probably tomorrow evening.
And, unlike the bloke who'd dumped Chris, she knew Clark was missing her just as much as she was missing him.
In three weeks, they would be married.
Lois smiled as optimism permeated the shadows of her glum mood.
Later, when she slipped into bed, she deliberately left Clark's ring on her finger.
She relived the beauty of his proposal. And the impassioned promise of his kiss.
Three weeks.
She couldn't wait.
||_||
"Hey, Clark?"
Clark stopped and turned, his face washed of all expression. "Yes, Mayson," he said.
"Cat's organised a farewell dinner for Dan Scardino tonight. Are you going?"
"No."
Mayson smothered her reaction to the shortness of his reply. "I'll let Cat know," she said indifferently. "She's making the booking, so she needs the numbers."
Clark nodded and turned to leave.
"I won't be going either," Mayson commented.
He hesitated long enough to give her a tight smile. "Have a good evening," he said. Then, he walked away, into the elevator and out of sight.
Mayson picked up her pencil and twirled it in her fingers as she stared at the closing elevator doors. Clark Kent was different since returning from Australia.
Before, he'd seemed every inch the naive country-boy ... a pushover for a savvy city girl. Mayson had had a bet with herself - that he would be in her bed within a week of starting at the Daily Planet.
Two years later, and she hadn't even managed to entice him to step into her apartment.
However, he'd always *seemed* pliable.
Until Australia - now, that persona was disturbingly absent.
Kent carried himself with a new surety - a demeanour of self-confidence and inflexible determination.
What had changed?
It couldn't be the country - if Dan was in any way characteristic of his countrymen, Australia should have made Kent *less* resolute. And writing about sports instead of reporting real news could hardly have brought about this change.
No, it wasn't the place ... and it wasn't the job.
Maybe it was a person.
Mayson tossed the pencil onto her desk and stood up. She meandered over to where Scardino was packing things into a cardboard box. "Dan," she said.
He looked at her in surprise. Since their showdown, she'd pointedly ignored him. "Mayson," he said frostily.
"I can't be at your farewell dinner tonight, so I thought I'd say 'bye' now."
"Bye," he said and returned to his packing.
She stepped closer and perched on the corner of his desk. "Are you glad to be going home early?" she asked in a friendly manner.
He continued placing his desk items in the box. "Yes, I am."
Clearly, she wasn't going to get any information from him without a little massaging of his bruised ego. "Dan," she said. "I'm sorry about how things finished between us."
"I'm sorry they ever started," he said darkly.
She took a moment to let him think that his retort had wounded her. "I hope you find someone who makes you happy," she said.
He muttered something unintelligible.
"Pardon?" she said.
"Nothing."
"Have you been in contact with that girl ... the one you told me about ... the one who didn't want to be more than friends?" She smiled encouragingly. "Perhaps it will be a case of absence making the heart grow fonder."
Dan closed the flaps of the box and secured them. "She has someone else," he said. He picked up the box and strode from the newsroom.
Mayson returned to her desk, deep in thought.
A changed Clark Kent had come back from Australia.
The woman who had broken Scardino's heart had found someone else.
Was Kent that *someone*?
Mayson's smile curled. Getting Kent back to Metropolis early could well have achieved more than she had realised.
Now, he was here ... and the other woman was in Melbourne. Distance would surely destroy any chance of that relationship continuing.
Kent had resisted Mayson's advances for two years - he wasn't going to fall seriously for an Australian nobody in a few weeks.
Her phone shrilled, and she picked it up. "Mayson Drake."
"Mrs Cox, Mr Luthor's personal assistant." Her tone was formal, but Mayson could detect the icy chill of disapproval.
"Mrs Cox," Mayson said, equally aloof.
"Mr Luthor wishes to enquire whether you would be available to accompany him to the nuptials of Superman and Ultra Woman."
Mayson suppressed her smile at Mrs Cox's disdainful utterance of the names of the bride and groom. It didn't take any creativity to imagine the assistant's haughty expression. "He's attending the wedding?" Mayson said, trying to sound as if that news surprised her.
Mrs Cox sniffed. "Yes."
Meaning - like many others who would be there - Lex was more interested in being seen than witnessing the wedding. "I would be honoured to accompany Mr Luthor," Mayson said nonchalantly.
"The event is to start at the unseemly hour of ten on the morning of September 7th," Mrs Cox informed her. "Mr Luthor's private car will collect you twenty minutes prior."
"Thank you, Mrs Cox."
The line clicked dead, and Mayson returned the phone with searing satisfaction. Obviously, her casual remark alluding to the series of editorials by Preston Carpenter - where he had questioned the motives of businessmen who publicly supported charities - had had the desired effect. Lex was a ruthless competitor - a man who remembered those who crossed him and was swift to retaliate.
He would realise that the last person Carpenter and King would want at their glitzy spectacle was a reporter from the competing paper.
But what none of them knew was that, this time, Mayson Drake wasn't chasing a story.
No ... this was far bigger than a single story.
This was the perfect opportunity to bring together Superman and his nemesis.
And then ... the fun would begin.
||_||
The couple walked leisurely through the trees. The balmy evening breeze rustled the leaves and cooled the sun-baked air.
"Are you disappointed that we can't be there?"
Martha Kent looked up at her husband with a half-smile. "A little," she admitted.
Jonathan's arm came across her shoulders and snuggled her closer to him. "You told them you weren't disappointed," he scolded gently.
"I told them the only thing I could tell them," she said. "But you get the truth."
Jonathan leant sideways and placed a kiss on the side of her head. "We'll be there next time."
"And there will be photos," she said.
"I imagine the Star will be full of them."
"I'll look at the photos, of course," Martha said. "But it won't be the suits I see, but our son ... and his wife."
Jonathan chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen a young man so utterly smitten."
"They're so cute together," Martha said. "But I don't agree that I've never seen a man so taken by his young lady."
Her husband smiled down at her. "Now, Martha," he said. "You're not going to go dragging up stories from nearly forty years ago, are you?"
She reached up and kissed him. "All I'm saying is that Clark reminds me of the young man who courted me with such persistence."
"I didn't propose in a tree house."
Their shared laughter echoed through the tranquillity as they continued walking together.
||_||
"Lois?"
Lois surfaced from the depths of sleep.
"Lois, honey?"
"Clark?" She sat up and glanced at her clock. It was six-fifteen.
"I've brought you breakfast," came his voice from the other side of her bedroom door. "I know it's early, but I couldn't stay away a moment longer."
Lois sprang from her bed. "Give me ten minutes," she called.
||_||
Clark unrolled the copy of the Herald Sun he'd scooped from Lois's driveway and turned to the back of the paper. He groaned. Hawthorn had lost.
And Richmond had won.
He glanced to Lois's bedroom door and willed her to hurry. He hadn't seen her since bringing her home after his tree house proposal, and that was thirty hours ago. It felt like thirty months.
Today, after leaving the Planet late in the afternoon, he'd patrolled for a couple hours around Metropolis - waiting for enough time to pass to give Lois the sleep she needed.
He needed her.
He ached for her.
But he had to be careful. In the tree house ... if she hadn't backed away ...
He touched his hand against the creamy cappuccinos he'd bought from an Italian cafe. They were still fairly hot, but he zapped them anyway. It kept his mind from wandering to the room next door - and his ears from listening for clues as to her progress.
Then, the door opened, and Lois was there, hurrying towards him with a wide smile of welcome. Clark sprang from the seat and swept her into his arms. She felt so amazingly good. He tightened his hold, wanting her closer. When he couldn't wait a second longer, he loosened her enough that his mouth could seek out hers.
He kissed her.
It was sweet torture ... holding her in his arms ... as her kisses imprinted fevered eagerness on his mouth.
He'd yearned for this ... but now it was like a morsel that tantalised him.
Three weeks. He snatched the words from the chaos of a mind in meltdown. Three short ... impossibly long ... beautiful ... excruciating weeks.
Clark hauled himself away from their kiss. He opened his eyes and saw Lois's face; her mouth was slightly ajar, and her lips were full and moist. He fought against the temptation to kiss her again.
She smiled at him. "I missed you," she whispered.
He groaned in agreement. "Every moment I'm not with you, it feels like half of me is lost."
Her hands stroked his neck. "Aw, Clark," she said. "I feel the same."
"I'm so sorry about last night. There was a storm in the south - lots of damage."
"The south?" she questioned. "So Superman went further than Metropolis?"
Clark nodded. "They were getting pummelled. I'd been counting down the hours until I could see you, but I had to go." He grimaced with regret. "By the time I'd done everything I could, it was after two in the morning here. I knew you'd be asleep."
"Why didn't you come and sleep with me?" she asked.
Clark didn't pause long enough to consider the wisdom of his reply. "Because I was scared that we wouldn't just sleep."
She smiled at that, and her hand continued its slow journey over his shoulder and towards his throat. "You want to wait, don't you?"
"I want it to be so special for you, Lois," he said. "Our wedding day won't be anything like you've dreamed. I want our honeymoon to be something you will never forget."
"It's only three weeks," she said - though her words lacked conviction.
"It feels like three years."
Her responding smile made him think that had he picked her up, taken her into her bedroom, and begun kissing her the way he wanted to, she wouldn't protest at all. "Did you say you brought breakfast?" Lois asked.
"All the way from an Italian cafe," Clark confirmed. "Fresh coffee and pastries."
He turned towards the table, but Lois checked him. "Not the table," she said. "The couch. I can get closer to you there."
Grinning, Clark brought the coffees and paper bags to the couch. He sat down, and Lois ensconced herself on his lap. She took the coffees and placed them on the lamp stand, and then peered into the bag. "Good choice," she said. "They all have lots of chocolate."
"I noticed that you seemed partial to the chocolate cheesecake."
"I've always loved chocolate," she said, taking a chocolate-covered Danish from the bag. "Actually, it *used* to be my biggest weakness."
He grinned. "Used to be?"
Lois giggled. "I've discovered there is something even more irresistible than chocolate."
*She* was irresistible - but resistance was required. Clark took her hand. "You're wearing the ring."
"I put it on when I came home in a funk last night because we'd lost and you couldn't come."
"I'm sorry about that."
"Don't be sorry," Lois said, brushing back a lock of his hair. "I know you have to be Superman, and as much as I want to see you, I understand that you can't be with me when you know someone else needs you."
"Thank you," he said softly.
"How did the people react to Superman? I assume they recognised you?"
"Yeah ... they were great ... very appreciative and ..." He smiled. "And very interested in my fiancée and the wedding. Many people wished us luck and said how pleased they were that we're getting married."
Lois offered him the Danish, and he reached to take it. She giggled as she pushed his hand away and held the Danish close to his mouth. With a grin, Clark took a bite.
"The wedding seems to have struck a chord with people," Lois said. She bit from the Danish they were sharing.
Clark nodded. "I think it has helped people to identify with me. They can't really understand coming from another planet or having the powers, but they can understand being in love and getting married." He ran his hand down her cheek. "You coming to the interview was an inspired idea."
"How did Linda King respond when you told them we want the simplest of weddings? And no reception?"
"I met with Preston Carpenter and Linda, and we went over everything together. Linda was disappointed that she wouldn't be presiding over the major gala event she had imagined, but when I suggested that she plan a Charity Ball for the Saturday evening, she accepted that."
"Good - so it's set then?"
"Yup. Ten o'clock, Saturday morning, the 7th of September."
"That'll be midnight here - that's perfect timing for me. What about you? How will you explain not being available to work?"
Clark winced. "I've already organised to have that weekend off."
"But?"
"I told Perry I needed to see my parents and he assumed I wanted to go to Smallville."
She brushed her fingers down his cheek. "You're really not comfortable with the intrigue, are you?"
"No," Clark said. "But I couldn't risk Perry wanting Clark on a story that day."
"With the wedding at midnight, Melbourne time, that gives us at least ten hours until I'll have to be at a game."
"You won't be too tired?"
Lois laughed. "I'll be feeling a lot of things," she said. "Tired won't be one of them."
"How do you think you'll be feeling?" he asked.
She smiled at his question and lifted the Danish to his mouth again. "Excited, elated, eager ... and perhaps just a little bit nervous."
"Don't be nervous," Clark said, although he knew he would be. He took a bite from the Danish.
"Where do we go after the wedding?"
The necessity of chewing gave him a moment to compose himself for the direction of their conversation. "Linda has booked the Honeymoon Suite at the Lexor Hotel for us," he said as evenly as possible.
"Lexor?"
"It's owned by Lex Luthor - he's the third richest man in the world, and a Metropolis identity."
"Because he's rich?"
"He's a very successful businessman. The archetypal self-made man. He employs hundreds. He's very generous. He's just established the Luthor Children's Foundation."
"He sounds like a good guy."
Clark didn't say anything for a moment. "I'm not sure about him," he said. "He's ... lucky."
"That's not a crime."
"Sometimes the misfortunes of others provide a windfall for him."
Lois chewed thoughtfully. "And you wonder if he had something to do with the misfortunes?"
"I can't prove anything."
"Will he be at the wedding?"
Clark nodded. "All the 'sponsors' have been invited."
"Already?"
"Yeah - Linda had everything ready to go."
"Then I guess we just relax and let her go with it."
"Are you concerned that we're consigning our wedding to someone you don't know and I don't trust?"
"What can she do?" Lois asked.
"I thought about that ... and other than pushing some of the boundaries we set - inviting a few more people - I'm not sure she can cause too much damage."
"Did she publish our statement?"
"Yes - word for word - I checked."
"It'll be fine," Lois assured him. "In the statement, we outlined exactly what we want. The Star has agreed to it. If Linda breaks that agreement, it won't reflect badly on Superman."
Clark didn't say anything.
Lois shifted on his lap and smiled at him. "What can go wrong?" she said. "We arrive. We say our vows. We let them take photos. We leave." She winked at him. "And then the fun begins."
He grinned. "Are you *trying* to drive me wild?" he asked.
"I love how your ears go red every time we mention the honeymoon."
Clark tried to look unruffled - though he knew there was nothing he could do about the colour of his ears.
Lois chuckled at his efforts. "I'm just making sure you don't forget about that bit," she said airily.
He had to keep this light. "I thought I'd fly you back to Melbourne immediately after the wedding," Clark said innocently. "And then go looking for something Superman needs to do."
"Oooh, Kent," she said, wagging her finger at him. "If you even *think* about doing that, you are going to be in big trouble with the missus."
"It's safer for me to think about that than the alternative," he said direly.
Lois grinned as she offered him the Danish. He took a bite, and she burst out laughing.
"What?" he asked.
"You have a flake of pastry on your lip."
Clark lifted his hand to wipe it away, but Lois caught his wrist and restrained him. She then slowly leant forward and lifted the flake with her tongue.
His laugh was an attempt to hide the constriction in his throat. "You *are* trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?"
She kissed him - gently, chastely. "Sorry," she said - though her grin was incompatible with any semblance of contrition.
Clark smiled. "Don't be sorry," he told her. "I'm willing to risk a lot worse than craziness if it means being with you."
||_||
Glossary
Crook - sick.
Cut up - upset.
Notes
Frankston is an outer south-eastern suburb of Melbourne.
Camberwell is the suburb next to Hawthorn.
Adelaide is built around the Torrens River - hence Chris's South Australian nickname.
Spencer Street Station is now called Southern Cross Station.
