Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Trusting Me, Trusting You 3:Trail (21/29)

"Let's go and get your computer," he said.

She still didn't release his hand. "There's something I need more than a computer," she said.

"What?"

"Hold me?"

Clark's arms spread wide, and Lois fell into the sanctuary of his broad chest. He enclosed her, and his big, gentle hand curled around her head. She heard the steady beat of his heart and felt his warmth.

And knew that everything was going to be all right.


Part 21

Twenty minutes later, empty boxes littered the floor of the living room, and the basics of the computer were arranged on the desk Clark had brought down from his bedroom.

"Marty offered to install the programs," he said, eyeing the modern slimline versions and comparing them with their earlier counterparts locked in his memory. "But it was going to take a long time, and I wanted to get home. Can you do it?"

"I can probably work it out," Lois said as she picked up an instruction booklet.

"Do you want to do it now?" Clark asked. "Or shall we go to the beach?"

Lois checked her watch. "It's still really early in California," she said. "How about I stay here to work on this and you go and check out the beach? See if it's how you remember it?"

"Are you sure?"

"It will be easier to show you how it works when I have it set up," she said.

"OK."

"And Clark?"

"Uhmm?"

"Have you thought any more about looking for your mom?"

"I've thought about it," he said. "But I just don't know where to start."

Lois smiled. "Perhaps give me an hour here. Just ... look around. Enjoy the freedom of flying."

"Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine."

"OK," he agreed, not really wanting to leave her but seeing nothing in her demeanour to intimate she had slipped back into her melancholy of isolation. "I'll be back in an hour."

She glanced up from the booklet she was reading. "Enjoy flying," she said with another smile.

"Thanks." It didn't seem enough. He wanted something else. Something more than a verbal farewell. A touch. A quick kiss to the top of her head.

But her concentration had returned to the book.

Clark walked away, feeling strangely empty but strangely full, too.

||_||

Just under an hour later, Clark arrived back at the farm and landed at the door. He opened it and called out "Lois?" despite having already seen that she was sitting in the living room at the computer.

"In here, Clark," she called back.

He smiled as gladness swept through him. Twice today, he'd come home to Lois, and it was definitely something he hoped would be repeated many times. He brushed a few drops of rain from his sweater as he crossed the kitchen.

Lois turned to face him. "Hi," she said. She stood up and came to him. "You're wet."

He looked down at his clothes. "Just a bit."

"It is raining?"

"Not yet. It probably will be in about twenty minutes, though." He smiled. "But the weather in California is perfect."

Lois's smile was slightly subdued, but it was enough for him to realise how much he had missed it these past few days. "Did you look for your mom?" she asked.

Disappointment encroached on his good humour. "I didn't even know where to look," he said. "The United States is so big ... and we don't even know for sure that she's still here."

Lois put her hand on his chest - which, Clark had to admit, was exactly what he'd been hoping she would do. "Did you try to listen for her heartbeat?"

"Yeah," he said. "I can do it when I know a heartbeat. I know yours. I can find yours easily through all the cacophony of other noise. But I didn't ever specifically listen to Mom's heartbeat."

Lois's fingers curled - just a small movement, but he felt it through his sweater. "What did you do?" she asked.

"I imagined there was a grid covering the country and started in the north-east and worked across the top."

"Looking? Listening?"

"Both. I adapted your suggestion and listened for her voice. I tried to hone in on the smallest detail of how she speaks."

"Nothing?" Lois said, her sympathy vivid in her balmy brown eyes.

Clark shook his head. "No," he said. "But it would only work if she was actually speaking when I was listening."

"Yeah," Lois said. She gave him a soft smile. "We'll keep looking. We won't stop until we've found her."

"Did you know that Scardino tried to find her?"

"No," she said with surprise. "I asked him to, but he just said he couldn't find anything."

"He said there was wrong information right at the start." Clark felt his powerlessness wash through him. "They could have done anything to her," he said desperately.

Lois put her other hand on his chest. "She could be all right," she said, looking up into his eyes. "We don't know anything for sure. There isn't any point in torturing yourself over the worst possibilities."

Clark nodded. "I know," he said. "Scardino said he would keep investigating."

"Perhaps when things have settled a bit, we should go to Metropolis and talk to Scardino. If he really is willing to help, we could share information."

"Yeah," Clark said. "That's a good idea."

With another understanding smile, Lois stepped back from him, and her hands dropped from his body. "I got the computer working," she said.

"Is it ... Will it be all right for what you need? Marty said you would need a word processor."

"I've installed that. It has everything I need." She smiled at him again. "Thank you."

"Do you want to show it to me now?" Clark asked, hoping he didn't sound disinterested. He *was* interested, but the computer could be done later this evening. Right now, he wanted to take Lois to the beach.

"No," she said, moving back to the computer and shutting it down. "I want to go flying."

Clark grinned. "Me, too," he said.

"Give me five minutes to get changed."

||_||

Lois looked through her meagre supply of clothing, quickly realising she had nothing suitable for a day at the beach. She picked up the old pair of jeans that she had pulled from the closet in her dad's home and scrutinised them critically. Opening the door, she said, "Clark?"

He opened the opposite door. "Yes?"

She held up her jeans. "Would you tear the legs off these, please?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. They're all I've got that is anything like beachwear."

"Would you like us to fly via Metropolis?" Clark offered. "We could go to your apartment."

"No, thanks," Lois said. "These will be fine."

"OK," he said. "How much do you want taken off?"

"Knee length?"

Clark held up the jeans and measured with his eyes. Two crisp ripping sounds later, he displayed her new 'shorts' for inspection.

"Thanks." Lois let her eyes travel down his body. He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. "I'll be ready in two minutes," she said.

"I'm ready. I'll wait for you downstairs."

"You're wearing jeans to the beach?" Lois asked in surprise.

Clark looked down, and when he looked up, doubt had permeated his expression. "Is that all right?"

"Ah ... yeah," Lois replied. "You don't want to wear the shorts I got you?"

"Is that what you want me to wear?"

Lois smiled, hoping to reassure him. "You can wear whatever makes you feel comfortable," she said. "Thanks for the shorts." She walked back into her room and quickly changed into the torn-off jeans. She chose a tee shirt; its dark blue colour wasn't at all summery, but its neck was high enough to cover the healing scratches. She slipped her sandals onto her feet, picked up her bag, and went down the stairs to meet Clark.

He was still wearing his jeans, but she noticed that he'd changed his sneakers for a pair of black flip-flops.

"Let's go," Lois said. "If we leave now, we should avoid that rain."

They walked out of the door - which Clark locked; then he lifted her into his arms, and they rose into the darkening sky.

||_||

Twenty minutes later, after a leisurely flight across the continent, Clark landed them behind a sand dune. He lowered Lois to her feet, reluctantly releasing her from his arms.

She had barely spoken as they had flown, and Clark had checked her anxiously, hoping her quietness was due to being engrossed in the sensation of flying rather than anything sinister.

He looked at her now and smiled. She smiled back - not effusively, but still a smile, and still enough to cause his heart to ricochet around his chest. "Are you feeling OK?" he asked. "You were very quiet."

"I'm feeling OK," she said. "I was thinking. A walk along the beach is exactly what I need."

"Perhaps it's what we both need," Clark said, wondering if she would expound on her thoughts. He nodded towards the ocean. "This way?"

"Yup."

He stifled the impulse to reach for her hand, but deliberately refrained from burying his hands in his pockets, letting them dangle by his side - just in case her hand brushed against his.

They reached the belt of sand that stretched out in both directions. A few people were scattered on the beach, and a couple of hardy surfers were riding the waves.

"Which way?" Clark asked.

Lois looked left. Then she looked right. Clark awaited her decision. "Right," she replied.

He turned right and took a step.

"Wait," Lois said.

Clark stopped.

"I thought you said you liked walking barefoot along the beach." She bent low, slipped off her sandals, and put them in her bag.

Clark pulled his flip-flops from his feet. The sand was warm and crunchy. He wriggled his toes, burrowing them into the golden grains. Lois probably saw him do it, because when he looked into her face, she was grinning. She began walking - taking a diagonal route that took them closer to the water.

When they reached the indistinct border between the loose sand and the slightly damp rim of the water's reach, Lois veered slightly so they walked parallel to the ocean. Clark breathed the salty air deep into his lungs and listened to the muted pulse of the waves and the squeaky tempo of their footsteps. The breeze skipped over the water and lingered in Lois's hair, separating strands and positioning them slantwise against the swinging drape.

If he concentrated, he could hear the swish-swish as it brushed against her shoulders in harmony with her stride.

Her hand lifted in an attempt to restore some order. "I should have tied back my hair," she said.

"No," Clark said - too sharply. He gave her a smile. "No," he said more softly. "I like watching the wind play with your hair."

She lowered her hand. "It will be knotty later."

He could tell from her smile that she didn't mind. "Do you still have that de-tangling spray?"

"Yes."

"Would you allow me to comb out your hair tonight?"

She nodded. "I'd like that."

Clark returned his focus forward as his heart overflowed with hope and promise and optimism and exuberant joy. There was so much that he'd thought could never be his again. So much that Lois had returned to him.

Freedom.

The touch of the sun on his face.

The immensity of the distant horizon.

And the privilege of a having a beautiful woman to walk by his side.

Only one thing was missing. Clark folded his fingers into a fist, wishing Lois's hand were in his.

When she had first come into the cell, he had diligently avoided any contact between them. Mostly, that had been because he hadn't wanted to scare her. But also, after seven years of isolation, just the thought of touch had seemed intimidating in the extreme.

But she had found ways to dissolve his barriers. The hair-washing. Her total acceptance when he had disregarded his uncertainties in the heat of the moment, taken her foot into his hand, and tried to massage away the pain after she had sprained her ankle.

And since then, she had given him dozens of little touches. She had done it so naturally - as if, for her, it was no big deal.

For him, it had been monumental.

He still cringed at the thought of anyone else touching him. Shaking hands - briefly - he could tolerate. Anything more personal than that, and his instinct to shrink back was overwhelming.

But Lois - her touch had become like a drug.

He was addicted.

And the desire to hold her hand was so strong he could feel the prickles in his palm.

He risked a glance sideways. She was looking ahead - slightly turned away from him as she stared at the blue horizon. His eyes slid down her shoulder and along her arm to her hand.

Did he dare ask her?

Or should he gently slide his hand into hers?

No, he shouldn't do that. He couldn't impose. They had held hands before. But then Moyne had come.

"Lois?" His voice sounded as if he had a thick cord tightening around his throat.

She looked up at him, and her slight smile suggested she hadn't noticed anything amiss. But now that his moment had come, he faltered. "The ... ah ... the ... " He stopped. Lois deserved more than the sham of pretending he had been going to make a comment about the scenery. "Would you ... would you mind ... would you like to ... hold my hand?"

Her expression had become progressively more perplexed as he had stammered his way through his question, but when he did finally get to the end, her face cleared, and she gave him a little smile. She didn't reply, but her hand slid into his.

Clark's fingers tightened around her hand.

Now, the day was perfect.

||_||

The warmth from Clark's hand seeped up Lois's arm. She smiled inside as she recalled his hesitant request. Moyne's invasion had definitely devoured some of their hard-won progress.

But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. Perhaps overcoming it together would work durability into their relationship.

Clark had bought her a computer. She hadn't asked how extensively it had eaten into his funds, but to buy it before she had said she would stay was a significant risk.

Or a huge statement of faith.

Clark believed in them. Believed in their future together.

For so long, he hadn't been sure. For a whole range of reasons, he hadn't been able to trust that they would be able to withstand the tests he feared would come. But a major test had come - and despite the initial snags, they had survived.

Moyne's attack had shifted something in their relationship. It had made her the vulnerable one and Clark the strong one. It certainly wasn't the way Lois would have chosen to demonstrate to him that he was what she needed, but it had seemed to work.

And as for her ... during the past two days, she had given a lot of thought to many things. She no longer felt overwrought with confusion, but from the chaos, only one decision had become patently clear.

"Clark?"

He looked down at her, his brown eyes warm and his dark hair tousled by the breeze. "Yes?"

"These past two days ... I've done a lot of thinking ... and I've made a decision."

Some of the colour drained from his cheeks. "About what?" he asked.

She squeezed his hand to reassure him. "About the future. About my future."

"OK."

Lois hurried to elucidate. "After my leave is over in three months, I'm going to resign from the agency," she said. She had wondered if vocalising it would bring second thoughts; it didn't.

Clark nodded. Lois got the impression that he hadn't thought about the specifics of her job.

"I don't want to do it anymore," Lois said.

"Why?" Clark asked softly.

"Because my life has moved on. Because I lost my partner. I can't imagine wanting to work with anyone else. I don't want to put the time into getting to know a new partner."

"OK." She could see that Clark wasn't really sure how to respond.

"I haven't decided what I want to do," Lois said. "But I figure I'll give that novel a try and see what happens."

"I ... I have wondered what you could do in Smallville," Clark said.

"Is that why you bought the computer?"

He shrugged a little. "One of the reasons," he said, sounding as if he wasn't totally comfortable talking about his gift. "I just wanted to give you something that interested you. And I figure that the good thing about writing is that you can do it anywhere."

"It was a sweet thing to do," Lois said.

He looked relieved, but quickly added, "It doesn't mean we *have* to stay in Smallville."

She could just leave it there. But there was more. And she owed it to Clark to tell him. Owed it to herself to stop evading the truth. "I ... I can't be an agent anymore. I can't take the risk that it will happen again."

She expected him to ask for clarification, but his only response was a gentle squeeze of her hand. After a few more steps through the sand, Clark said, "Lois, you shouldn't feel responsible for anything that happened with Moyne."

"Yes, I should," Lois said. "I made a mistake. A mistake that could have resulted in a lot of trouble. It didn't - thanks to you."

"I don't think you would have killed him," Clark said with quiet certainty.

"I think I would have," Lois said, swallowing down the bile that wanted to rise into her throat. "But it doesn't matter now. I don't intend to put myself in that position ever again." It was wonderful to feel so certain about a decision. "Have you decided what you'd like to do? Long-term?"

"Yes," Clark said.

His confidence surprised her. "Would you like to tell me?" Lois asked.

"I would like to stay on the farm," he replied. "I would like to work it. To fulfil its potential. To have it ready for when Mom comes home."

"You don't want to finish college? Become a journalist?"

"No," he said. "If my father has passed away, I want to be there for my mom."

"I think that's a lovely idea."

"I would *like* to stay on the farm," Clark said. "But if you're unhappy there ..." He gazed solemnly into her eyes. "More than anything, I want to be with you. And if that happens, I don't really mind where I live."

Lois smiled. "I did notice how naturally you slipped into the Farmer Kent persona."

He smiled, too. "It felt good."

"It looked good," Lois said, lacing her comment with a definite tinge of appreciation. Clark cleared his throat, and she decided to change the subject. "Do you mind if we talk about what happened with Moyne?"

"If that's what you want to do," Clark said, looking surprised.

"When did you come in?"

He looked ahead. His mouth moved as if he were about to answer, but no words came.

"When?" Lois said, curious now.

"About the time you crunched your knee into his groin," Clark said with just a trace of a grimace. "That ... that was a nice move."

"Yeah," Lois said. "And I know that ... after everything that happened, and now he's dead and everything ... I probably shouldn't, but I have to admit, that looking back ... I ... I don't feel much sympathy for him."

Clark nodded slowly, and then a shadow of his smile surfaced. "Admit it," he said. "Moyne deserved it."

Lois tried to rein in her responding smile. "The man's dead," she reminded both of them. She half smiled. "But yes, it would have hurt him, and I can't be sorry about that. He had it coming."

"You shouldn't feel bad about anything that happened with Moyne," Clark said gravely. "You did nothing wrong."

"Why did you come back?" Lois asked. "Did you hear something? My heartbeat?"

"I heard your elevated heart rate. So I came."

"And walked straight into the poison."

"I saw it," Clark said. "I knew it was in his pocket. I looked when I was a long way from the farmhouse."

"But you still came."

It hadn't been a question, but Clark answered. "Yeah, I came."

"I was trying to work out how I could warn you. But I knew that you would come, no matter what I did."

"Uh huh."

"I'm really sorry you got exposed to the stuff again," Lois said. "But I'm so glad you came. I needed you."

"I will always come when you need me," Clark said.

"I know that."

"Lois?"

She knew from his tone that he wasn't sure about whatever he wanted to say. She smiled to encourage him. "Yes?"

"Would you mind telling me what happened before I arrived? You don't have to, but -"

"What would you like to know?"

"What did he do to you?"

"He didn't *do* much," Lois said. "He threatened to rape me. I tried to get out of the bed, and he landed on my back. That's when ..." She stopped as more of the fogginess cleared. "That's when I got the bump on my head."

"What did he do?" Clark asked in a strained voice.

"He didn't do it," Lois said. "I did."

"How could you have hurt your own head?"

"He was on top of me. I threw my head back and smashed it into his face. That's when he started bleeding."

"When ... when did he make the scratches?"

Lois could hear the anger simmering in Clark's voice. She leant towards him and rested her cheek against his arm for a few steps. "They happened as I lunged back into his face."

Clark frowned, and Lois knew that he was thinking about the seconds before that.

"The ends of the scratches are as low as he got," she said so that Clark didn't have to ask. "He repositioned himself to reach lower, and that's when I made my move."

"Lois," he said after a few steps. "You were amazing."

Except I almost killed him, she thought. I went too far. When she looked up, Clark's eyes were trained on her face.

"Where you see a lapse, I see the compulsion to right wrongs," he said solemnly. "Where you see a mistake, I see the desperation to prevail in the midst of a horrifying situation. Where you see a failing, I see the sort of strength that makes me in awe of you."

Lois felt her eyes bud with tears. But they were sweet tears. Lured by Clark's words, but even more by the way he took what she had given him and turned it into a gift for her.

She gave him a wobbly smile.

He smiled back.

Then they fell silent, and the warmth from Clark's hand seeped up Lois's arm and into her heart. His grip was so characteristic of the man. Immeasurably strong yet infinitely gentle.

Stark realisation hit her with the force of a crashing wave.

If Scardino had destroyed all of the poison, Clark was the most powerful being on the planet. Nothing could match his strength. No one could challenge his dominion.

With anyone else, that would be a terrifying thought. With anyone else, there would be the fear that the power could be corrupted into an amoral grab for self-gain. But Clark ... Clark had proven himself when he had begged that she spare Moyne's life.

However Clark chose to use his powers, humanity could only benefit from his presence on Earth.

Lois glanced up into his face, wondering if he'd even begun to consider the possibilities. He could be anything. He could be a champion of the weak, a defender of the helpless, a beacon for the lost, a saviour for those in peril.

A hero.

Clark turned to her and smiled. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm just wondering where all this will end," she said.

He stopped walking and turned to face her. "I don't mind where it ends," he said. "All I want is that when we get there, I'm still with you."

That was all she wanted, too. Lois shuffled forward in the sand, slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his shoulder.

Perhaps Clark hadn't even begun to think about how he could make a difference in the world.

But she had.

And whatever he chose, Lois knew one thing.

He was going to need her.

Almost as much as she needed him.

||_||

Clark curved his arms around Lois's sun-warmed body.

He sensed something new in her. Something steadying and full of purpose.

Perhaps it was the beginning of healing. The dawn of a new stage in her life.

He hoped it was.

She had included him. She had told him of her decisions. She had told him about the time with Moyne.

She had talked of a future. Their future.

For so long, the future had entailed little more than desperately trying to survive the next ten minutes.

But now, everything had changed.

Clark couldn't even begin to imagine the full consequences of those changes.

But Lois was with him.

And nothing else mattered.