Lois watched as the framework of her club unravelled. Her head throbbed, her neck ached, and her throat constricted against a choking bundle of emotion that pushed higher and higher. She could no longer take in the individual questions, and the answers had become a distorted blur. Unless the board had managed a masterstroke with the proxy votes, it was going to be a resounding win for the anti-merger side.

But at what cost?

If this were victory, it felt like defeat.

Don Scott took the microphone again, and the noise of the crowd slowly died down. "Tonight," he said. "Tonight, it is 'us' against 'them'. From tomorrow, it is 'we' - from tomorrow, we move forward, we rebuild, all of us ... together."

Lois looked around the hall - into the reddened faces still contorted with anger - and hoped that -somehow - that might be possible.


Part 64

Clark followed Lois into her unit, still feeling a significant measure of relief.

He'd known that Lois was not going to be hurt physically at the meeting - not with him there - but the atmosphere had hovered near boiling for such an extended time it seemed almost miraculous that it had ended without violence.

There had been anger. And passion. And an outpouring of emotion so intense he'd had to keep reminding himself that this was about a football club.

But clearly, it was a football club that many people loved. One that many people were willing to fight to save.

Lois turned, and the bleak agony on her face tore at his heart.

They had driven home in silence. Her higher-than-normal heart rate, her willingness to allow him to take the wheel, and the rigid expression on her face had warned him to be careful with what he said.

Now, he sat on the couch and gently guided her onto his lap. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"It was awful," Lois said brokenly. "It ... it was just like my family. Like when Mom and Dad fought, and screamed, and shouted, and tore each other apart ... until finally, there was no family left anymore."

Clark ran his finger down her cheek. "Hawthorn aren't finished yet," he reminded her softly. In his opinion, sending the inflamed crowd home before counting the votes had been necessary to ensure everyone's safety - although he knew the extra waiting time was going to be excruciating for Lois.

"Even if we vote against the merger, I'm not sure we can recover from this."

"Hawthorn has ninety-four years of history," Clark said. "That can't be destroyed in one night."

"But ... but there was such anger, such hatred ... such ..." Lois snatched a tissue from the box and swiped at the dampness in her eyes. "We are supposed to be a *family*."

"It wasn't hatred, honey," Clark said. "Remember one of the first things you told me about footy ... you said if you don't care, you might as well stay at home and knit."

Lois laughed - a shaky, on-the-edge-of-control laugh. It activated a spurt of tears, and she rammed the clump of tissues into her eyes.

"Tonight, we saw how many people care deeply about your club," Clark said. "Tonight, we saw the commitment of the people who love Hawthorn. If the merger is avoided, Hawthorn will make it. That's what I saw tonight."

"But some of us ... some of the family ... are going to be devastated. Whatever the result, some people will feel like they've lost their club. Some friendships of lifelong standing won't survive what happened tonight."

"Are you worried about Ron and Barb? And Seb? You don't think this will harm your relationship with them?"

Lois shook her head. "No. I caught a glimpse of Ron, but I couldn't get through the crowds to him. He looked pale and in shock. This would have felt like betrayal to him." She dried her eyes with the tissue. "But I'm worried about Seb and Chris. Their relationship is so new ... it's just beginning ... They don't have any history as a couple to get them through this."

"Chris voted against the merger?" Clark asked.

"Yeah ... and Seb always thought it was our only chance."

"Did you see Chris there? Or Seb?"

"I waved across the room to Chris as we were leaving. I didn't see Seb all night. He was probably with Barb."

"We'll go and see Ron and Barb soon," Clark said. "Perhaps we could call them tomorrow and invite them to come for a meal. I'll cook."

Lois gave him a watery smile. "Thanks."

"Try not to worry," Clark said. "Everything at the meeting indicated that the merger will be easily defeated."

"The board organised a system of proxy votes. I'm not sure how many they had before the meeting even started."

"Did you hear anything about the Melbourne meeting? Was it as intense as the Hawthorn one?"

Lois shook her head. "I haven't heard."

"The merger will only go ahead if the members of *both* clubs vote for it, right?"

Lois nodded. "That's right. It only needs one club to vote 'no', and the merger is off." She placed her palm along the line of his jaw. "Clark," she said solemnly. "We've talked endlessly about what happens after this vote ... but we've skirted around it and not made any concrete decisions and always said that we would wait until we knew Hawthorn's future."

"We'll know soon," Clark said. "Then we can decide what we are going to do."

"If Hawthorn merge, I'm leaving Melbourne."

Clark's eyes leapt to meet hers. "But this city is more than Hawthorn to you," he said. "It's your home, and your friends, and the Wilton family, and your career."

"And I love my life here," Lois said. "But I want to be with you."

Clark didn't want to assume anything. "So ... you'd move to Metropolis?"

"Yeah," she said. "I don't know what I'll do for a job, but I'll be with you."

"Perry said he'd give you a trial."

That piqued her interest. "Working at the Planet?" she said. "With you?"

"Would you like that?"

"I don't know." She smiled bleakly. "But working on the St John story was fun."

"I think we'd be a great team," Clark said, not able to stifle his enthusiasm.

"Do you *really* think that the ability to write a decent match-report could translate into becoming a general reporter?"

"In your case, yes, I do," Clark said.

"Would you help me? Help me to learn all the new things I'd need to know?"

Clark smiled. "You mean the way a beautiful woman called 'Flinders' helped me when I arrived in Melbourne not knowing one thing about footy?"

"You adapted really well," Lois said.

"And you will, too."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Her smile died. "It's going to be tough having to start again."

His dream had already begun taking root and was shooting forth with wondrous possibilities, but Clark knew there was a question he had to ask. "What will you do if Hawthorn don't merge?"

Lois looked into his eyes, and he read her answer.

"You'll stay here," Clark said.

"I'm sorry, Clark," she said. "I can't walk away. Avoiding the merger is only the first step. There is so much more to be done - and because of the financial situation, much of it will be done by volunteers."

The disappointment hit him hard - which was incongruous with what he'd always known - that if Hawthorn survived, Lois would feel a compelling sense of responsibility to help rebuild her club.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's OK," he said. But it wasn't. And he had to ensure that Lois did not guess the truth of his feelings. She had been through an emotional minefield today. "When will we know the result?"

"Ron is going to call me as soon as he knows."

Clark needed to escape from her gaze. "How about I make you a drink of Milo?" he offered. "And I'm sure you have some Tim Tams in the pantry."

She laid her hand on his arm. "No," she said. "Thanks, but no. I couldn't eat or drink anything." Her chin wobbled. "I just couldn't."

"It's OK to cry, you know," Clark said. "At the meeting, I could feel the effort you needed to hold everything together. It's just us now."

"But if I cry, you'll try to comfort me," Lois said.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"You'll make me cry more." Her little gush of laughter quickly morphed into a sob.

Clark snuggled his wife into his arms, and her face buried in his chest. He stroked his fingers along her forearm and crooned words of comfort as the pent-up anguish convulsed her body.

They didn't speak for many minutes, with her soft sobs and his responding solace the only sounds to disturb the silence. Her tears stopped, her shaking stilled, and Clark felt her body relax against his.

"When I was a little girl," Lois said in a hushed voice, "I would go to my room and cry like this every time my parents had a fight."

"I wish I could have been there for you then."

She took his hand in hers and cradled it against her chest. "Me, too," she said. "Then I wouldn't have felt so alone."

"I guess that feeling of isolation was one of the reasons why Hawthorn became so important to you?"

She nodded. "I feel like I've already lost one family. I don't want to lose another one."

"Do you really feel like you've lost your parents?"

"In every way that matters," she replied miserably. "If my mom knew I was crying over a football club, she would tell me to stop being so stupid. My father would probably tell me to pick another club, as if it were as simple as choosing a new brand of breakfast cereal. They have never made any effort to understand my life."

"Is that why you didn't want to call them and tell them we're getting married?"

"Yeah," Lois said. "Today was emotional enough. I didn't need Mom's shocked disapproval and Dad's blatant disinterest. Maybe tomorrow night."

"Is that how you think they will react?"

"Mom has never approved of anything I've done, and I can't see that changing now I've decided to do something she failed at so spectacularly. Dad will make a pathetic attempt to try to say the right things, but I doubt his mind will even register the news - it just won't be as important as whatever work he is doing at the moment."

"Aww, Lois," Clark said.

She put her hand on his cheek and managed an ashen smile. "It's OK," she said. "I've accepted that's how it is with my parents. I can't change them. I have the Wiltons, who love me." Her smile deepened. "They were so happy for us, weren't they?"

Clark smiled, remembering how enthusiastically Ron and Barb had reacted to the news of the engagement.

"And I have you," Lois continued. "I have everything I need."

She didn't include Hawthorn. Clark wasn't sure whether that was significant or not.

With a long shuddery sigh, Lois settled again into the crook of Clark's arm.

As they waited together, he found his mind jumping from thought to thought. It was never easy to wait for an answer. And this answer would have such a telling effect on their future.

They had finally arrived at the fork in their lives - the time for decisions. If Hawthorn merged with Melbourne, it would be easy.

Except ...

The demise of her club would devastate Lois.

And then there was Mayson - lurking like a storm cloud that threatened to burst over their lives at any moment.

Perry's last text had said the doctors had decided to discontinue the medication that kept her in an induced coma. Clark couldn't hope that she wouldn't wake up ... but Mayson had knowledge that could threaten everything that was important to him ... his relationship with Lois, his career, Superman, and even his parents being able to continue their quiet life on the farm.

The phone scythed through the silence, and they both jumped. Lois sprang from the couch and answered the call. She listened for a few moments and then replaced the phone.

"Melbourne voted 'yes'," she announced. "They've agreed to the merger."

"And Hawthorn?"

"No news yet."

She settled back onto his lap, and silence draped over them again. Clark's mind kept forming little visuals of him with Lois ... in Metropolis ... openly married ... working together at the Planet. How perfect that would be ... but he couldn't allow himself to dwell on that. Not yet.

Lois had been quiet for a long time. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"What do you think I'm thinking about?" Lois asked in a tone several shades brighter than he'd expected.

"You've been quiet for so long it could be anything."

"Guess."

She sounded almost light-hearted. Was she resigned to the fact that the fate of her club had been decided ... and there was nothing more she could do?

"The meeting?" Clark said. "The result of the vote? The fact that Melbourne voted for the merger, and everything now hinges on Hawthorn?"

"No - none of that."

"Mayson?" he asked hesitantly.

"No."

"The Wiltons?"

"No."

"Seb and Chris?"

"No."

"Luthor?"

"No," she said. "But we are going to get him."

"We'll need proof."

"We'll get it," Lois said. "I know he's the Boss, and I know he arranged for the bomb in Mayson's apartment. We'll keep working until we find the proof we need."

Clark didn't want to discuss either Luthor or Mayson now. "So what were you thinking about?"

"Our wedding."

"Our wedding?" he said with surprise. "You were thinking about that even though you said ..."

She laid her hand on his arm. "Surely you didn't think that what I said before about staying here to help Hawthorn meant that I'd changed my mind about us getting married as Lois and Clark?"

"You want to be married despite living in different countries?"

"I want to be married," Lois declared. "To you. Openly. Nothing could change that." She smiled, and it soothed some of the ache that was still inside him. "Is it OK with you if we discuss our wedding?"

"Ah ... yes."

"We need to make some decisions. What are your thoughts?"

"I want to marry Lois Lane."

Her laugh whispered through the stillness. "Other than that?"

Clark thought for a moment and then said, "Other than that, I'd really like for you to have whatever you want."

"Whatever?"

He chuckled, wondering what she was thinking. "Whatever," he reiterated. "I want to be the groom. I want you to be the bride. I'd like my parents to come. That's it."

"Are you hankering for the full traditional white wedding? In a church? With lots of bridesmaids? And flowers? And classic cars? And a triple-tier white cake with a little bride and groom on the top?"

No, he wasn't. But if that was Lois's dream wedding, that's what they would do. "If that's what you want, I'll help in every way I can."

She was silent for a few moments - probably, he surmised, imagining her dress, or her bridesmaids, or the flowers, or the church. "Which country?" she asked. "The States? Or Australia?"

"Your choice," he said. "Although we met in Melbourne - and it's coming into summer here."

"So, you're not thinking of having a long engagement?"

"Honestly?" Clark said. "If it were possible, I'd suggest doing it before I go home."

"That'd be quick."

"I realise that it can't be organised in a week," he said. "And isn't there a law about submitting a form a certain time before the wedding?"

"Yeah, the 'Notice of Intended Marriage' form," Lois said. "It has to be lodged at least one month and one day before the wedding."

"So it's not going to be possible," Clark said, trying to mask his disappointment. "It was an improbable idea anyway."

"Uhmm," Lois said. She sounded distracted by other thoughts.

"Will there be a waiting time for the church?" Clark asked. Perhaps they could complete the form, and he could come back in a month.

"For some churches, there would be a long wait," Lois said. "But from what I've heard, the real holdup will be somewhere to have the reception."

"How long?"

"If we want it to be on a Saturday, probably at least twelve months."

"Oh," Clark said. Twelve months seemed like an eternity. "Do you really want it on a Saturday?"

"Yes, I do."

Clark couldn't really see how the day mattered - but he was committed to giving Lois her idyllic wedding, so he said nothing. "Maybe we could make some preliminary bookings in the next week," he said. "I'm not sure how helpful I'll be, but if you want to do this together, we could get started. I don't want you to feel that you have to do it all."

She smiled warmly at him and slid her hand through his hair. "Is it really so important to you that I get exactly what I'd like?"

"Lois, you've given me so much," Clark said. "You've accepted my differences, you've had to tolerate people thinking terrible things about you because of me, you've loved me like no one else ever has, you've allowed me to share your body, you didn't complain when your first wedding was stark and functional, and you get dressed up in that suit - all to help me. I want to give something back - and I know weddings are important to most women ... so it will be my pleasure to give you exactly the wedding you want."

She grinned suddenly. "This is going to be fun."

Clark brushed his fingertips across her cheeks. "I didn't know that you desired a traditional white wedding with all the trappings," he said.

Lois laughed. "I don't."

"Until now?"

"No. Not even now - that's the last thing I want."

"Oh." Now, he was confused.

"And if you're honest, big guy, you don't really want that either."

"Well ... no ... not if it means having to wait a year."

"Have you always dreamed of having your bride walk up the aisle towards you dressed in a beautiful white dress?"

"I've always dreamed of being married to a woman I loved with my whole heart ... I didn't really think too much about the details of the wedding."

"How do you feel about the white dress?"

"Ah ... that's what most brides wear."

"Does it bother you that the white dress traditionally represents the bride being a virgin? Because, as you well know, I'm not."

"Lois, if you want to wear a white dress, you wear one, honey," Clark said. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. This is our wedding."

Lois chuckled. "I'm trying to find out what you want," she said. "Can you stop being so accommodating for just one moment and tell me what you really think? If I didn't wear a white dress, would you be disappointed?"

Clark thought about it. "No," he said. "I want to marry you. The colour of the dress really isn't important."

"And if your parents and any of your friends came and they thought it was an unusual wedding, would you be embarrassed?"

"Lois," he said, suddenly wary. "What *exactly* do you have in mind?"

"I have the perfect idea," she enthused. "The perfect time, the perfect place, and best of all ... " She leant forward and kissed him. "... the perfect man."

"Perhaps you should tell me about your ideas," Clark said.

She smiled. "Perhaps I should. I'm thinking we should get married on -"

The jangling phone interrupted her words. Lois glanced to Clark as all of her cheerfulness drained away. She slowly rose from his lap and picked up the phone.

"Ron?" she said. Clark stood but halted two steps behind her.

There was silence for a long moment. Clark deliberately refrained from turning up his hearing.

He saw Lois's shoulders begin to shake. "Thanks, Ron," she said in a faraway voice. She replaced the phone and stood in statue stillness.

Clark stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "Lois?" he said hesitantly.

The little shudders increased, and he could feel her quivering under his touch.

"Lois?"

She turned. Her face revealed nothing.

"Lois?"

"No."

"No?" he breathed. "So the merger is defeated?"

Lois nodded. "I hope they are wrong," she said in a small, shaky voice. "I hope they are wrong."

"Who? You hope who is wrong?"

"All those Hawthorn people who believe we cannot survive alone. I hope they are wrong, because if they are right, all we've done is bought ourselves a longer time to die."

Clark folded her into his arms and clasped her against his chest. She wasn't crying now, but she held herself stiffly as if tension had seized body again. Clark gradually increased the pressure on her back and felt her relax against him. "You can do it," he said. "This will be the start of a new era for the Hawthorn Football Club."

She moved away from him, and when he saw her face, his heart leapt at the tiny smile budding on her beautiful mouth. "How would you know?" she challenged. "You're a Yank who three months ago didn't know a Collingwood ruckman from a Carlton rover."

Clark smiled. "Ah, but I've learnt a lot since then. And the thing I've learnt most is that nothing is impossible when people are willing to fight for something they love, something they believe in. All that feeling we saw tonight, all that commitment, all that passion - that is what will rebuild your club."

"*Your* club?" she asked, smiling through moist eyes. "I thought you barracked for Hawthorn, too."

"I do," he said.

"Then it's *our* club," she said firmly.

Clark nodded - and tried not to think about how close they had come to having a life together in Metropolis.

||_||

"Clark?"

The ICU nurse reacted abruptly to the sudden sound of the voice as it spiked above the quiet drone of the medical equipment. The patient's eyes were closed and her face impassive, but there was no doubt that she had spoken. "Ms Drake?" the nurse said. "Mayson?"

There was no response.

"Mayson? Wake up, Mayson. Talk to me. Who's Clark?" The nurse gently shook the young woman, but there was no further sign that she was regaining consciousness.

The nurse noted the time on the patient chart and paged the doctor.

He arrived five minutes later. "What happened?" he asked as he swung into the room.

"She spoke. She asked for Clark."

"Clark? Is that her husband? Brother? Son?"

"There's nothing in her notes. Her next of kin is listed as her uncle - a Stephen Drake."

"Has he been in to visit her?"

"Not on my shifts."

"Has she had any visitors at all?"

"Marli said there were two men here the night she was brought in. They were work colleagues, I think, not relatives."

"She's a reporter for the Daily Planet, isn't she?"

"Yes. That's right."

"Call the editor and find out who this Clark is. She needs him here with her."

||_||

Note

'It's not Hawthorn's way to pick out a single person and say that he embodies the spirit of Hawthorn. At Hawthorn, we think as a team, play as a team, and win and lose as a team. So men like Arthur, Kennedy, Parkin, Matthews, Tuck, Knights, Scott, Brereton, Dunstall and Crawford, though seen as uniquely themselves, are embedded in a planetary system of players that ran and fought and kicked as one.

'Yet there is an added dimension to Don Scott: he saved the club from extinction. In true Hawthorn style, he didn't do it alone, but rallied the troops to save the Hawks from a fatal merger.' Ken Rigby, 'We Are Hawthorn' page 65.