Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Trusting Me, Trusting You 4:Highway (6/?)

"May I kiss you?"

"Oh, yes." Her tongue brushed a moist trail along her lower lip.

He traversed the final inch of separation.

His lips touched hers.

Just a touch.

A taste.

But it was enough to set his body ablaze.

Enough that he wanted more.

More of her.

He backed away. Minimally. Not far enough to break their tenuous link.

He leant in again, thrilling as Lois rose to meet him.

His palms flattened against the wall, enclosing her.

Her hands clasped his neck, easing him closer, trapping him.

Although he was trapped already.

By her power.

Her love.

By everything that was Lois.

He grew bolder, opening his mouth a little wider. Contact became exploration. Exploration became interplay. Interplay became connection.

Time ceased.

The edges of his consciousness blurred.

And the world fell away.


Part 6

"Clark?"

"Uhhmm?"

Lois felt, rather than heard, his response as it rumbled through his chest. "Are your feet on the ground?"

His chest vibrated again, and she sensed his amusement. "After *that* kiss?"

*That* kiss had transported her to sublime planes she hadn't known existed. The feeling of weightlessness had been only one element in the thrilling bombardment of her senses.

But ... considering whom she had been kissing ...

Summoning viscous muscles to action, Lois lifted her head from where she had nestled into the curve of Clark's neck and, with one glance, realised they were way closer to the ceiling than could have been reasonably expected. "Clark?"

His glazed-over eyes and indolent smile made her think he was probably still stuck in the wonder-world they had created with one - very drawn-out - kiss. "Yeah, honey?" he managed.

"Think down."

"What?" He hauled his eyes from her face, and his head jolted down. "Uh oh," he said. "I'm guessing that's me."

Lois nodded. "But it's nothing that we haven't done before."

"We haven't done it before as a result of kissing," he said with a grin that oozed luscious memories.

"It was the *best* kiss of my life," Lois said with a sigh.

"Not for long, I hope."

"You think we can better that effort?"

"We can try," Clark said with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows. He looked around again. "And we could start by choosing a better location than the bathroom."

"Aw, I don't know," Lois said. "The fact that it happened in the bathroom says a lot about how long we waited."

"Do you know how you ended up in my arms?" Clark asked. "The last thing I remember was that my hands were on the wall on either side of your body. And I had told myself it would probably be wise to keep them there."

"No," Lois argued lazily. "That wouldn't have been wise at all. When you rose, I would have been left behind."

"I was never going to let that happen."

"Me either," Lois said. She giggled. "I think I was clinging to you quite indecorously."

"I loved it," Clark said. They shared a smile as memories assuaged them. "But ... Lois?"

"Yeah?" she said, trying to decide between the dual delights of returning her head to his shoulder or her lips to his mouth.

"I'm not actually ... completely sure how to get us down."

"Easy," she said.

"It is?"

"Uh huh. Drop me."

"I am *not* doing that," Clark said.

"Let go of me," Lois said. "Before I hit the floor, you will have caught me again."

He chuckled. "I'm not dropping you, honey."

"OK," she said. "Then think down."

"Just ... *think* it?"

"Yup. I don't know how you do it, but you can pretty much choose any space - high or low - to occupy."

"OK," he said.

Lois looked down over their arms as the floor slowly rose to meet them. "There," she said when they'd landed. "Easy."

"Are you going to tell me the rest of my oddities?" Clark asked. "Or are you going to let me discover them one by one?"

"Depends," she said.

"On what?"

"On whether you kiss me again."

He grinned. "If I kiss you, I get information?" he said. "Is that how it works?"

"Nope. If you kiss me, my mouth will be too engrossed to be giving you any information. Not in words, anyway."

His eyes glistened with amusement. And anticipation. He gently backed her against the wall and leant closer.

A wave of feeling, endowed with the essence of Clark, washed through Lois again as his mouth captured hers and began an unequivocal portrayal of his enchantment. She melted against him and drank in the intoxicating combination of his familiar gentleness fired with his new - and electrifying - fervency.

Clark. Could. Kiss.

And so far, his tongue hadn't left the confines of his mouth. If it ever ventured forward ...

A loud knock on the door perforated their kiss.

Clark groaned as he slowly released her. "I figure that's our food," he said, sounding less than delighted by the prospect of eating.

"It is," Lois said, not able to rein in her amusement at his reaction. "And it will be great."

"Yeah," he said, rallying a smile.

She shot him a look that was meant to convey that she knew *exactly* what he was thinking.

Clark shrugged without any sign of abashment. "I like kissing you," he said in his own defence.

"I'll get the door," Lois said. "You get your glasses."

"OK," he agreed. "But I'm paying for the meal."

By the time Lois had reached the bottom of the stairs, Clark - bespectacled again - had caught up. She took the bags, and Clark paid the delivery boy, including a generous tip. Back in the dining room, their wine glasses sat on the table, forsaken.

Lois chuckled, remembering their mad dash upstairs to see to the prerequisites of that first - incredible - kiss.

Clark pulled out a seat for Lois. She sat down, thanking him with a smile.

"What do we have?" he asked.

"Steak," Lois replied as she opened the first container. "And baked potatoes, Portobello mushrooms, and salad."

"Is there some significance?" he asked. "They're not your favourite foods - so perhaps they are mine?"

"I know you like these foods," Lois said.

"But there's more, isn't there?"

She nodded. "This is the meal we had on our first date. And it came from the same restaurant."

"So we *have* dated before," Clark said with surprise. "Did we go to out? Or have it delivered?"

"Delivered," Lois said, rummaging through her brain for a way to move them away from any possible association with the cell. "My Uncle Mike owns the restaurant."

"Your father's brother?"

"Yes," she said, wondering why that was relevant.

"Guess he knew the address then," Clark said. He stopped unpacking the containers and lobbed her a questioning look. "I took you on a date, but I didn't kiss you. Did it end badly?"

"No. It was perfect."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "It *wasn't* perfect. Tonight ... *that* was perfect."

Lois waited, more than half hoping that he would abandon the food and take her into his arms and begin kissing her all over again.

He paused.

Her heart stopped.

He picked up the salad and offered it to her.

"I think it's possible that you and I work together," Clark said casually.

Lois smiled from over the salad. "Really?"

"I think I went to work and was completely knocked over by a beautiful colleague ... possibly even my boss. Perhaps that's why I was so hesitant to tell you how I felt."

She didn't say anything.

"Well?" he said.

"No comment."

"Do I use these 'extra skills' of mine in my job?"

"By 'extra skills', do you mean the ability to kiss a woman off her feet?" Lois asked.

His brown eyes fastened in hers - amusement sprinkled liberally through the overflowing love and tangible desire. "That wasn't what I meant," he said with a dashing smile. He picked up his knife and fork, perhaps giving her the chance to answer his question. When she didn't, he said, "Are we leaving here tomorrow?"

"Yes," Lois answered.

"How far do we have to go?" Clark cut off a piece of the tender steak.

"Kansas."

"Kansas? I live there?"

"Yes, on a farm."

"Are my folks in Kansas?"

"No."

"Do I have family?"

Lois stared at her steak - watching its juices seep out - as she felt the light-heartedness drain away. She had only a moment to make her decision. And whatever her decision, it was going to have far-reaching implications.

It was too early.

Too early to spoil this by opening up even the tiniest possibility that the horror of the cell could invade and contaminate their world.

Clark had been so happy tonight. So eager. So undamaged.

She had to give him more time.

She had to give *them* more time.

"Lois?" he asked softly.

"Your parents have passed away," she said.

She mourned the sorrow she'd caused him as his eyes flickered with pain.

"I'm sorry," Lois said, referring to more than he could realise.

"How long ago?" he asked quietly.

"A long time."

"When I was a child?"

"No. Later than that. They were farmers. They lived near a town called Smallville," she said, wondering if the name would shake free any memories.

"Smallville?" he echoed. No recognition registered on his face.

Lois put her hand on his. "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"What happened to their farm?"

"It's yours now."

"Is that where I live? Am I a farmer?"

Lois took back her hand and cut a slice from her potato. "You sound surprised."

"No," he said. "Not so much surprised. Not for me, anyway. But if we're close ... and I'm a farmer ... Where does that leave you?"

"We'd just started trying to work that out," Lois said.

"Did we come to any conclusions?"

"We had decided to go to Smallville and see what happened."

"You really thought you could be happy on a farm?"

"I really thought I could be happy with you."

He grinned and then pointed his fork at her. "Now that I know we don't work together, there's nothing stopping you from telling me what job you do. And how that could possibly involve a farmer from Kansas."

"I am on leave for three months."

"Were you ill?"

"No. Remember I told you that my friend had been murdered?"

"Yes," he said, his sympathy evident.

"Well, she was more than my friend. She was also my partner."

"Partner?"

"We were government agents."

Clark's mouth fell open. "Spies?"

Lois nodded with a dismissive shrug. "Yeah," she said. "It was a job."

"More like a lifestyle, I would have thought," Clark said. "But it explains a lot."

"It does?"

"It explains how you are so skilled at dealing with my questions - answering them without really giving away too much information."

So he'd noticed. "I just want what is best for you," Lois said, stamping down the spark of guilt regarding her lie about his mom.

Clark's grin flashed. "I know. But it's fun trying to wrangle stuff out of you because you're so adept at sidestepping. I bet you are a great spy."

"I've decided to resign," Lois said.

"Why?"

"Because - as you've already realised - being with you on the farm doesn't really fit with too many jobs."

"But Lois," Clark said, his eyes crinkled with concern. "I could not have expected you to give up everything to be with me."

"You didn't. But after Linda was killed, I didn't want to start again with a new partner. I'd had enough of the travelling, the constant changes. It was the right time to do something different."

"A farm in Kansas certainly qualifies as 'something different'."

"I am hoping to write a novel," Lois said, trying to subdue the little dart of self-consciousness.

She hadn't needed to feel self-conscious. Clark's reaction was genuine interest. "A novel? That's a good idea. You must have a lot of experiences to draw on."

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing you can't tell me too much about your job. Secrecy and all that."

Lois nodded, appreciating his understanding.

Clark grinned. "And as I can't remember my job, we probably need another topic of conversation."

"Which is not that easy," Lois commented.

"No," he said. "You can't ask me questions because I have no answers. I can't ask you questions because I'm supposed to come up with the answers myself."

She nodded.

"Although ... Now that I know about the x-ray vision, and the floating, and the ability to hear very quiet sounds ... Perhaps there's no longer a good reason not to tell me more."

Lois took the time to sip from her wine. If she refused to answer any questions, he would wonder what else she was hiding. "Do you remember *anything*?" she asked.

Clark shook his head. "Nothing."

"It's been less than a day," she said. "There's still time."

"Can I ask a question?"

"If I were to allow you one question, what would you ask?"

"The most obvious one."

"Which is?"

"How a Kansas farmer met a beautiful, talented, brilliant government agent who was based in Metropolis."

Lois nodded slowly. "That's a good question."

He grinned. "Are you going to answer it?"

She ran her fingers down the three scratches on her chest. "You saved my life," she said.

"I did?" He glanced to her chest. "When those scratches happened? They look only a few days old."

"They are. We met before that."

"But *he* was the one who was threatening your life?"

"Yeah."

"Does that happen regularly in your job?"

"Too regularly," Lois said, thinking of the past three months.

"What happened?" Clark asked.

"He pulled a gun on me. My *own* gun as it happens. He was a couple of yards away, and he fired."

"And I ..." Clark looked puzzled. "What *did* I do?"

Lois took the knife from his right hand and unfurled his fingers. There was no telltale scar to mar the smoothness of his skin. She ran her fingers lovingly across his palm.

"What happened?" Clark asked as his hand closed around hers.

"You caught the bullet meant for me," Lois said quietly.

His face paled. "I ... I ..."

She gathered his hand into hers and pressed it against her cheek. "You stood between him and me, and when he fired, you caught the bullet." She smiled. "You hid it in your pocket."

"Did ... did I know that I wouldn't be hurt?"

"I don't think you thought about it. You just reacted."

"And that was when we met?"

Lois nodded.

"So you knew about my *oddities* right from the start?"

"Yeah," Lois said. "And I've never been able to think of them as anything other than a wonderful part of you. Without them, I would have died, and we would have only known each other for a few horrifying moments."

"That would have been a terrible tragedy," Clark said. "On both counts."

"Yes."

"How many other people know? About my unconventional abilities?"

"Four," Lois said, mentally sending apologies to Martha Kent.

"Who are they?"

"Eric, Daniel, Evan, and one other man; he was at the base, but I don't think you met him."

"How do they know about me?"

"They're all agents."

"Like you?"

"Yes."

Sudden comprehension lit his face. "I figure that my 'special abilities' might be useful to a government agency."

She nodded.

"That's why I was taken to the EPRAD base this morning?"

"We needed to ensure that you didn't say something that would alert others."

"So ... me ... the things I can do ... it's all a big secret?"

"Yeah."

"How did I get to be like this?" Clark asked, desperation leaking into his tone. "Was I an experiment that went wrong? Did I get badly injured, and they replaced parts of me? Do I have steel instead of flesh and blood?"

"No," Lois said, tightening her grasp on his hand. "None of those."

"Are you going to tell me?" he asked.

"When the time is right."

"Now? Tonight?"

"No."

"When will the time be right?"

"Clark." Lois kissed his hand. "There were times when you struggled with the extra abilities. Not struggled to control them, but struggled to incorporate them into your desire to be a regular guy."

"Is that why I was so tardy in telling you how I felt about you? Because I wasn't sure if you should be burdened with this?"

"That was a part of it."

A measure of relief swept his face. "At least that is sort of understandable," he said. "And it doesn't make me seem so lame."

"You were never lame," Lois said. "And even though my heart breaks at your confusion, I can't help but see positive aspects to you having amnesia."

"It cleared out all the junk from my mind?"

"Yes," she said. "And it gave us a chance to start again ... with good stuff this time."

"Let me hypothesise," Clark said with a small grin. "I was a bit of a loner ... I had strange abilities, and I wasn't really too sure how I fitted into the world. Perhaps hiding away on a farm in Kansas caused that feeling to become ingrained. I might have had acquaintances, but not too many friends, and no family. I was probably worried that people would find out, so I maintained a distance from everyone. Then ... I met you."

Lois said nothing.

"And ... because of the bullet incident, you knew everything about me. But you treated me as if those differences didn't matter. I fell in love with you - probably before I had even caught the bullet - and you became the one person who knew me completely and allowed me the freedom to venture out from behind those barriers."

Lois looked at him through tear-clouded eyes.

"But because of my differences, I was hesitant to pursue the sort of relationship with you that I really wanted," Clark continued. "Is that about right?"

She nodded, conscious that her tears were threatening to spill over.

Clark stood and held his arms towards her. Lois fell into his embrace, clinging to him.

"You told me that I saved you," Clark said. "But it seems as if you saved me, too."

"We need each other."

"I *knew* there was something about you. Right from the first moment, I *knew* you were someone very special." He leant sideways and took a tissue from the box, using it to dab away her tears. "I love you, Lois," he said.

"And I love you."

He grinned suddenly, crumbling the solemnity that had crept into the atmosphere. "Can I ask you another question?"

"*Another* one?" she teased.

"This is about today. About something I can remember."

"OK."

"The kiss."

"Ah," she said, figuring he was going to ask about the floating. "That."

"Lois," Clark said, suddenly a little breathless. "It seems likely that I don't have much experience in this. And I've forgotten anything I did know. Did you ... did you like it when I kissed you?"

"You have to ask?" she said incredulously.

"OK," he said as a tentative smile appeared. "It was either really good or really bad."

"Clark!"

He chuckled. "The fact that you're holding me now - and you've probably realised that I'm thinking about kissing you again - gives me hope that it was really good."

"It was better than really good," Lois said.

With his forefinger, he brushed a light touch down the bridge of her nose. "I thought so, too," he said. "But I can't kiss you unless I'm sure you want me to."

"I want you to. We waited such a long time for that kiss."

"I can't believe that I was able to wait that long," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I think some of my patience went with my memories."

"There were good reasons."

"Did I ever come close?"

"A couple of times. You once blew me a kiss through a window."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "That doesn't count. It's pathetic."

"No," Lois countered. "It was sweet - a lovely gesture."

"Well," Clark said decisively, "I intend to make up for my reticence. Is that all right with you?"

"That is perfectly all right with me."

His smile was quickly formed and quickly dissolved - lost as he began to kiss her again.

||_||

Clark thoroughly reacquainted himself with Lois's mouth. Kissing her had become just as essential as breathing. He wanted to do this every day - multiple times - for the rest of his life.

His feet were still on the ground.

But if any woman could lift a man from his feet, Lois Lane was that woman.

Her hands were warm and insistent on his neck - pressing, adjusting, gripping.

He felt like a starving man indulging in a banquet.

But he needed to stop. They had - way too quickly - reached the edge of his control.

Clark brought the kiss to a finale and eased away. His eyes met hers, and he saw his own feelings plainly reflected. He smiled, overwhelmed with love for this woman.

It was a love that had emerged from the barrenness of his past and stretched forward into the hope of their future.

"W...we should get back to our meals," she said.

The little stutter confirmed that she, too, had come close to that edge.

How long was it going to be possible for them to nudge that barrier without crashing through it? He'd known her for less than a day.

But he'd loved her for so much longer than that.

Clark shut down the trail of his thoughts and positioned Lois's chair for her. "Our food has probably gotten cold," he said regretfully.

She nodded, looking at him as if she expected him to say something further.

"Does your father have a microwave oven?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Would you like me to -"

Lois reached for him and removed his glasses. "Zap the food," she said.

"Zap it?" Yet even as he asked, he had a feeling what was coming.

"Gently," she cautioned. "We don't want it incinerated."

He loved her for so many reasons. But what kept dancing through his heart was how calmly, how naturally she accepted his differences. She made it impossible for him to do any less. He stared at the food - at a loss as to what was supposed to happen now. "What should I do?"

"Think hot," Lois said. "That shouldn't be too difficult for you."

He thought he detected an underlying meaning in her words. He checked her face, saw her barely contained grin, and knew for sure. "Lois," he said, aiming for sternness, but knowing that his grin destroyed any chance of appearing anything other than completely besotted. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Yes," she said. "Your body drives me crazy."

He hadn't expected her to be *quite* that honest. But perhaps that made it all right for him to be completely smitten by everything about her. Including the alluring femininity of her body.

Remembering he wasn't wearing his glasses, Clark swiftly returned his focus to the food on his plate.

How did a person 'think hot'?

Well, the kisses he'd shared with Lois should do it.

Or overdo it.

He needed to be careful, or a harmless plate of food was going to turn into a volcano.

Warmth.

Gentle warmth.

As he stared at the plate, steam began to rise from the food.

Lois applauded in delight. "Well done," she said.

Making sure that whatever he had turned *on* was turned *off*, he lifted his eyes from the plate and to Lois. "Do you have any idea how amazing you are?" he asked softly.

"It wasn't *me* who reheated the food," she said with a smile.

"It was you who told me I could do it," he said. "And you who has somehow made the most bizarre things seem almost ordinary."

Her smile widened. "Good," she said. "Because they are normal for us."

Us. He fell in love with her all over again. Us.

He wasn't alone.

He'd been lost. But Lois had found him. Lois had shown him the way out of the darkness.

He would never be alone again.

"I should heat your food," he said. Because if he didn't, they were in danger of forgetting it again.

A few seconds later, steam arose from her plate, too, and Clark returned his glasses to his face.

"Thank you," Lois said.

"Thank *you*," he said, meaning it with all of his heart.

||_||

"Do you remember this taste?" Lois asked as Clark put the first spoonful of tiramisu in his mouth.

He paused and then shrugged slightly. "Not really," he said after swallowing. "The tastes of the other foods - the steak, the salad, the hamburger, and fries - were sort of expected. But this taste is completely new. Did we have this during our date?"

"Yes."

His brow creased a little. "That surprises me," he said. "I would have expected that anything associated with you would be the strongest of my memories."

Was it possible that his mind had subdued memories of the cell more deeply than anything else? "Do you actually *remember* anything?" Lois asked, loading her spoon so it didn't appear as if her question was anything other than a general inquiry.

"Still nothing specific," Clark replied. "Just general things."

She put her hand on his and left it there as they continued eating. "It must be disconcerting," she said. "But try not to worry about it."

"I remember the only thing that matters," he said. "That I love you."

Lois decided that now was a good time to broach a subject that had been simmering in her mind all day. "Clark?"

He waited, ignoring his dessert and giving her his full attention. "Yes, honey?"

"Have you thought about where you are going to sleep tonight?"

"Here?" he said with surprise. "In the spare room? Or your dad's room?"

"And I'll sleep in my old room?"

"I guess so," he said as if it had been obvious.

"Are you happy about that?"

There was a short pause as he processed her question. "Ah ..." he said, bursting into an adorably bemused smile. "Ah ..." He chuckled. "I really don't know how to answer that."

"We could share the double bed," Lois said casually.

His eyebrows leapt. "Are ... Are you suggesting that we *share* the bed?" he asked. "Or share a lot more than that?"

"I'm worried that if you're alone, your mind won't let you sleep."

"If I'm with you, my body won't let me sleep," he said.

There was another silence as she processed his words. Then she chortled, and Clark joined in.

The laughter died quickly, smothered by the enormity of the possibilities. "I think it would be best if we were in different rooms," Clark said.

"Why?"

"Because this is so perfect, I don't want to spoil it by rushing."

*Rushing*? But she had to remember that their love was less than a day old for Clark.

"Whatever happens," he said. "I want it to happen because we both know it's right."

"But you're thinking that ... we will ..."

"I certainly hope so," he said emphatically. He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he said. "That came out with just a little too much enthusiasm."

"No, it didn't," Lois said. "It was exactly what I wanted to know."

"I'm trying for the right balance here."

"Just be honest."

"OK," he said. "Even though I can't remember, I seriously doubt that my control has ever been tested as much as it was today." He shrugged. "Sleeping in the same bed with you ... Sorry."

Lois chuckled. "You don't have to be sorry that you find me attractive."

"I woke up and discovered I am involved in this incredibly amazing relationship with the most beautiful of women," Clark said. "I'm sure about how I feel, but I'm missing all the background that I should have. I don't want to do anything that jeopardises what we have."

"You won't," Lois said.

"I'm still flailing a bit. It's been a day of surprises."

"That's why if you can't sleep for thinking about everything that happened, I want you to come and wake me. Don't grapple with this alone."

"Oh, I'm not alone," Clark said. "I thought I was before you walked into the room, and it was the worst of feelings. But then you walked in, and I knew I wasn't alone."

"Except you thought I was your sister," Lois teased gently.

His smile returned. "I was wrong," he said. "*That* was the worst of feelings. Even worse than being alone."

"I'm very glad I'm not your sister," Lois said.

"Me, too," Clark said fervently.

Lois smiled, partially to cover her tinge of disappointment. She had hoped that they would spend the night together. Sleeping. Or perhaps not sleeping.

But Clark, even with no memories, still had his innate sense of what was right and proper. And before the cell had stolen his freedom, Lois was sure that he hadn't been the type of man to indulge in casual sex.

Not that what she had in mind was going to be casual.

"It's going to be a long night," Clark said.

"Yeah," Lois agreed. "Although I have an idea."

That sparked his interest. "What?"

"We could shorten it by getting up really early. We have a long way to go - let's leave before sunrise."

Clark nodded with far more enthusiasm than the suggestion of an early start would usually evoke. "Good idea. I know that as soon as I go into my room, I'm going to be counting the minutes until I'm with you again."

She would be counting, too.

He finished the last of his tiramisu. "I'd like to go to the bank tomorrow," he said as he settled back in his chair and picked up his glass of wine.

"OK."

"You said my financial situation is sound."

"It's better than sound."

"Ball-park figure?"

"Seventy thousand dollars."

The wine splashed up the curve of the glass as Clark lunged forward. "*Seventy* *thousand* *dollars*?"

"Yes."

"Why? Was I planning to buy something? Had I just cashed in an investment? Do I have huge debts?"

"I'm not sure about the farm - whether there's a mortgage or not," Lois said. "But that money is yours - you can spend it however you wish."

He sipped from the wine. "Was it a payment? From your agency? For *help*?"

"Yes," she said.

"Can I access it easily?"

"Yes."

His smiled blossomed. "Good," he said. "Because tomorrow, I'm hoping you'll need another outfit."

"I will?" Lois said, smiling.

"Yep." He put the glass on the table and offered her his hand. When they were both standing, he said, "Lois, I've had the best time this evening. Would you go out with me again tomorrow night?"

"I would love to."

"Thank you." He kissed her forehead - and even managed to make that feel sensual. "We should clean up this meal and get to bed," he said. "It's getting late."

Lois nodded, although the moment of separation loomed like a cloud of depression.

Clark stepped back, grinning. "And we need to ensure there is time for our goodnight kiss," he said.

"I thought we had our goodnight kiss in the bathroom."

"No," he said with another grin. "That was the practice."

"If that was merely the practice, I can't wait for the real performance," Lois said.

His reaction told her he'd realised that she was possibly referring to more than a kiss. His smile flashed, and he deliberately turned his attention to clearing away the plates.

Lois shivered with anticipation.

*This* Clark had no memories to hinder how he expressed his love for her. He would always be a gentleman, always be ultra-considerate - but he *wanted* her. And he wasn't trying to hide how much he wanted her.

Not tonight, she accepted. But soon.

Very soon.