Cat fight?
I'm guessing Clark's thinking Linda and Mayson.
As the bedroom door quietly shut, Lois scrutinised her unit for any signs of Clark's presence. No clothes, no jacket, no shoes.
And what about two glasses instead of one?
I did not expect her.
The question was barely out of her mouth when Lois saw two empty cups sitting on the drainer like a public announcement that two people had shared coffee. Lois jolted her head back to Chris.
"Except for one thing - does he play for another club?"
Lois's heart was thumping dire warnings, but she felt trapped. "No," she said, although the word was almost lost in a gulp.
Chris grinned wider. "I couldn't do that, either," she said.
Can you imagine, alt-world fic where Clark plays for Melbourne and Lois still barracks for Hawthorn? Should be fun.
"Then kiss me, big guy," she said. "And give me a taste of what to expect on Saturday."
Okay, that just sounded really dirty
/snips further comments before this leaves g-rated territory/
Nine hours and forty-eight minutes to go.
[...]
One hour and thirty-eight minutes.
So, 3 more parts till the wedding?
Michael, who is in doubt Lois will make it into the office on Sunday. And not due to happy reasons.
