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.
Part 7
~~ Thursday ~~
Wakefulness came softly to Lois, wafting on beautiful memories.
Kissing Clark.
Their goodnight kiss had stopped time.
It had started with sweet familiarisation.
And escalated.
In both intensity and location.
He'd tasted of an exquisite combination of wine and coffee and cream.
The mouth-on-mouth harmony had been wonderful, but very quickly, not enough.
Clark had paused from his gentle tattoo that had branded her as his forever. His lips had parted.
She'd stilled.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Pleading.
The tip of his tongue had touched the underside of her upper lip.
Just the memory of it was strong enough to radiate fire through her limbs.
She was panting now ... over the *memory* of a kiss.
And not even the kiss, just the moment when Clark's tongue had first made contact with her lip.
But it hadn't stopped there.
She had opened her mouth, and her tongue had slipped forward to meet Clark's.
His body had shuddered.
And his tongue had delved further.
After that, specific memories were lost in the heat haze of a kiss that had taken Lois beyond anything she had experienced.
Physically, she had gone further with other men. But no past experience could come close to the euphoria of kissing Clark.
It had felt so wondrously intimate.
So beautifully right.
Uncounted minutes later, Clark had eased away. A protest had leapt to her mouth, but she'd clamped down on it when she'd seen his battle with raw desire.
Now, Lois closed her eyes ... and saw it again.
Clark ... unafraid ... undamaged ...
A man. Free to love.
Every feminine instinct she possessed was straining for more of him.
Their goodnight kiss had been glorious. But what if, instead of it being the precursor to separation, it was the avenue to full intimacy?
To know Clark. To know him completely.
And afterwards, to sleep in his arms.
To use that chest as her pillow.
Lois wanted it to happen as soon as possible.
And not just to appease her aching body.
But because she wanted them to be close - *really* close - before he regained an inkling of the cell. Then, even the most horrific of memories wouldn't stand a chance against the power of their love.
But ...
Could it be that simple?
This must feel like a whirlwind to Clark. His total life experience started with meeting her and culminated - just sixteen hours later - in a paragon of a kiss.
Clark still needed time. She still needed that elusive patience.
Not that he had complained about the swift progress of their relationship.
But she had to ensure that he didn't get hurt. And that included protecting his heart from being mauled because of any misunderstanding that might arise between them.
The potential for misunderstanding was huge.
He'd had a host of questions. She had responded with some truth, some evasive misrepresentation, and some outright refusal to answer.
He'd accepted his powers with remarkable equanimity. So far, their disclosure hadn't appeared to threaten the one secret she most wanted to preserve.
The cell.
Making love.
Two events - absolutely opposite in every sense - were engaged in a tussle for Clark's emotional wellbeing.
A soft tap sounded on her bedroom door. "Lois?"
"Come on in, Clark," Lois said, quickly running a hand over her hair and sitting up a little in the bed.
He came in, dressed in some of his new clothes, freshly 'shaved', and looking sensational. "Hi," he said in a soft voice that teased every nerve ending she possessed.
"Hi."
"Did you sleep well?"
"Mostly."
"Did you miss me?"
"Terribly."
That made him grin as he sat on the edge of her bed. "I missed you," he said emphatically.
"But now we have the whole day together."
"Would you like me to go and get some breakfast while you use the bathroom?"
"No, thanks," Lois said. Although it was probably too early for the morning editions of newspapers to have hit the newsstands, she was sure that the 'Superman Saves The World' story would continue to blaze from every headline. "I don't think anything around here is open this early."
"You don't even want coffee?"
"No, thanks. We can get some miles behind us, and then stop at a diner."
"OK," he said agreeably. "Do you have a suitcase or a bag I could use for my clothes?"
"In the closet next to the study. Help yourself."
"Thanks." He rose from the bed with a parting smile. "See you soon."
Lois sighed with happiness. He hadn't kissed her; he hadn't even touched her. But every part of her body was tingling from the effects of his voice, his presence, the clean smell of soap and shampoo.
Just him.
It was wonderful to start the day with Clark.
||_||
Lois showered, dressed, and packed in record time. She scribbled a note for her father's cleaner and left it on the table to explain any signs of their presence.
Clark picked up both of their suitcases, and together they went to the Jeep. The pre-dawn air was chilly. Lois shivered. Clark smiled. Warmth radiated through her.
"Do you need me to navigate?" he asked as he opened the driver's door for her.
She couldn't help recalling the last time they had driven out of Metropolis. It had been dark then, too. Just like now, it had felt like a new beginning. But Clark's shock at having been thrust into the world had seemed like a bleak barrier of separation between them.
Now, the barrier had moved. It was no longer between Clark and the world. Nor between her and Clark. The barrier now was between Clark and his past. "Thanks," she said as they settled into the Jeep. "There's a map in the glove compartment."
He unfolded it onto his lap. "I assume I *can* drive," he said. "I can't imagine anyone could live on a farm and not learn."
"You can drive," Lois said.
"Have I driven you?"
Lois laughed as she waited for the automatic garage door to open. "My, my, Mr Kent, the questions have started early this morning."
He chuckled. "Have I driven you?"
"Yes," she said. Flown me, too.
"So when you need a break from the wheel, I can take over."
"That would be nice," Lois said. "I thought we'd drive for a couple of hours and then stop for breakfast."
"Do you like to drink coffee in the morning?" Clark asked.
"Sometimes."
"Perhaps we could stop and get some coffee to go."
"OK," Lois agreed as she pulled onto the street. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I thought I would."
"So it wasn't too difficult to settle your mind after the roller coaster of yesterday?"
"Not really."
"Not really?"
"Lois, am I a worrier?"
She checked his expression before replying. He looked semi-serious. "Ah, sometimes. Why do you ask?"
"There was one thought that I just couldn't get out of my mind."
Lois pulled up at a red light and looked sideways at him. "What?"
"That if I went to sleep, I would risk waking up and not remembering anything again."
"Aw, Clark," Lois said. "You should have come to me."
"I didn't want to disturb you," he said, taking his wallet from his pocket. "So I did the next best thing." He withdrew a piece of paper.
"What's that?" Lois asked, thinking about his poem.
"Instructions," Clark said with a good-natured chuckle. "Just in case."
"In case you did forget?"
"Yeah." He unfolded the paper and read: "Your name is Clark Kent. You are in love with Lois Lane. Keep your glasses on and make sure you're inside a building the first time you kiss her."
The traffic light turned green, and Lois's laughter resonated over the accelerating motor. "That is perfect," she said.
He grinned. "I'm so glad I didn't need it."
"Me, too."
"So many incredible things happened yesterday, but I want to bank them and move on, not live through them again."
Lois nodded, thinking about how Clark had never expressed even a hint of self-pity. Perhaps that was another deeply embedded consequence of the cell. "We'll add some good memories to your bank today," she predicted.
"It's *our* bank," he said. "And today is going to have it bursting."
"Except you haven't kissed me yet today," Lois reminded him - probably needlessly.
"You told me we had a deal that I was to kiss you first," he said.
"We did," she said. "And you did. Spectacularly."
"Well, today, Ms Lane, it's your turn," he said with a smile that pushed her right to the edge of slamming on the brakes and kissing him in the middle of the early morning Metropolis traffic.
"My turn?"
"Today, you kiss me first."
"Deal," she said, knowing she was probably grinning like a predator contemplating the juiciest of prey.
"When?" he asked with another adorable smile.
"You are going to have to wait and see."
"I'm not sure I *can* wait."
Lois giggled. "Coffee," she said with tissue-flimsy sternness. "Then we get out of Metropolis. Then breakfast."
Clark smiled. She smiled. Lois figured their thoughts were running along similar lines, revelling in the memories of yesterday and skipping ahead to the promises of a new day.
"You should keep your eyes on the road," Clark said softly.
He even managed to make *that* sound sexy. Lois cranked her head forward and centred her entire concentration on safely negotiating the dark streets.
"Lois?" Clark said after a couple of silent minutes. "I have three questions."
"Three?" she said, trying to sound unconcerned.
"Do you mind?" he asked. "It's not so much that I want specific information. I just want to know that my fears don't represent reality."
"OK," she said.
"My first question is highly embarrassing," Clark said. "That's why I want to ask while you're driving - so you have to focus on something other than my discomfort."
That sounded intriguing.
"Because if you were looking at me, I'm not sure I could actually get the words out," he said with a self-conscious laugh.
This was more than intriguing. "Ask," Lois said, keeping her eyes forward. "It can't be *that* bad."
"It is."
When he didn't speak, Lois let her eyes slide sideways and met his look. His smile came tentatively, but it wasn't enough to drive away his look of uneasiness. "Go on," she said. "There's nothing we can't talk about."
He took a breath, his cheeks ballooning as he expelled it. "Do you know why yesterday morning I was wearing two pairs of briefs and between them, the remains of something that looked like a blue girdle?"
It took a phenomenal effort, but Lois managed to keep her reaction from exploding into a loud guffaw.
"Well?" Clark said when she didn't answer.
She risked a glimpse, trying to determine his level of distress. She was relieved to see that although his cheeks had a deeper layer of colour than usual, he looked more curious than perturbed. "Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I know why."
"It's not that I'm ... freaky? In a really *off* sort of way?"
"You're not 'off' at all," Lois said. "It's nothing to worry about."
"Do you know if I usually wear outlandish underwear combinations?"
"You don't."
His grin - decidedly wolfish - shattered his consternation. "You *know* that?" he said. "I didn't think we'd progressed that far."
She allowed her amusement some freedom through a curtailed smile. "I'll tell you more ..."
"... at the right time," he finished. "I did wonder if the blue stuff was some sort of flame-retardant material. Perhaps it had something to do with the job I did for the agency."
Lois gave a muted nod that she hoped Clark would take as agreement that his theory was plausible.
"That's OK," he said, accepting her non-answer. "But it does sort of lead to my next question."
Lois sensed a new seriousness in his tone. She saw a female street vendor setting up her coffee stall and pulled into the adjacent parking spot. "We have a few minutes," she said. "What do you want to ask?"
Clark unbuckled his seatbelt and turned towards her. "I know there are things you don't want to tell me," he said. "And that's OK. But it makes me wonder what could possibly be more mind-blowing than some of yesterday's revelations. I mean, shaving with a mirror." He shook his head as if trying to bend his mind to fit the configuration of his life. "And floating."
Lois waited, figuring the unknown must be looming like a dark storm cloud on the horizon of his mind.
Clark rested his forearm on his raised knee and held his hand towards her. Lois threaded her fingers through his with an encouraging smile. "But I know that whatever it is, this has got to be really difficult for you," he said.
"For me?"
"I think that is what Daniel was trying to say yesterday when he thought we should stay at the EPRAD base. He realised that you taking sole responsibility for someone with amnesia was a big undertaking. And that would be with someone normal."
"You are normal."
Clark shook his head. "No," he said. He eyed her, breaking into a hesitant smile. "The things I can do ... they're not normal, but this isn't about me. It's about you."
"Me?"
"Are you all right?"
Lois thought back to her earlier deliberations. "Yeah," she said. "I'm all right."
"But it's not easy for you, is it?"
"Sometimes ... sometimes, it's hard to determine the best way forward."
"I wish I could help you," Clark said. "I wish you didn't have to do this alone."
He was worried about *her* being alone? "Can I ask *you* a question?" Lois said.
"Of course," Clark replied.
"It's not an easy question."
His smile slowly expanded. "It can't be any more excruciating than asking about a blue girdle."
Her smile rose and fell quickly. "Maybe. Maybe not."
His other hand cupped the union of their hands, and his thumb glided across her knuckles. "You said we can talk about anything."
"I love you," Lois said. "I have had time to be sure about how I feel."
"You're worried that we're moving too quickly?"
"I'm worried that you will feel as if I've steamrolled you into this."
Clark's laugh rumbled softly. "Lois," he said, making her name sound like a caress. "The *only* thing I'm sure about is that I want to be with you."
"With me ... like that kiss last night?"
"Oh, yes," he breathed.
The sun hadn't yet risen, but the temperature in the car definitely had.
"Thanks for answering my questions," Clark said.
"You've only asked two. What about the third?"
He glanced out of the car window to the coffee vendor. "What would you like to drink?"
"That wasn't your question," Lois said.
"No," he said. "But it will save time if we talk while we eat breakfast."
"Whatever it is, don't stress about it."
His sudden grin ignited the simmering warmth scurrying through her veins. "One final question?" he said. "Very quickly?"
"All right."
"May I kiss your hand?"
Her joy sounded in a soft laugh. "Yes."
Clark smiled. He gently brought her hand to meet his mouth. He carefully placed a kiss on her knuckle. His mouth lifted marginally from her skin, and his eyes rose to meet hers. "I love you," he said, his mouth whispering its message on her hand.
"I love you, Clark."
He straightened with a smile. "I'll ... ah ... get that coffee."
"Latte, please. Milk, no sugar."
Clark released her hand and stepped out of the Jeep.
Lois watched him go, feeling a swell of panic at the thought of letting him loose in the world. What if he heard someone talking about the asteroid? She could answer that. What if someone recognised him? That would be more problematic. What if he'd forgotten the basics of their money system and didn't know the bills to give the vendor? She would watch him, ready to go and assist if he needed it.
The vendor was a middle-aged woman. Her face brightened into a welcoming smile as Clark approached. Lois held her breath, waiting for the vendor to show any sign that she had recognised the superhero who had saved the world. Her mouth moved, asking for his order, and Lois relaxed to a muffled giggle.
There was no recognition.
Just the reaction of a woman when she saw a very good-looking man. Clark was going to get that - he'd better get used to it.
A few minutes later, coffees in hand, Clark returned to the car, unscathed from his first solo foray into the world. He offered her one cup. As Lois took it, she leant forward and placed a deft kiss directly onto his mouth.
When she backed away, he was grinning.
"Thanks for the coffee," Lois said casually.
"Thanks for the kiss," he replied with a trademark grin.
She looked at him, remembering so much, in awe of the changes, but marvelling that he was still so 'Clark'.
"What?" he said with a smile that - save for the coffees - would have been the trigger for him to be inundated with a shower of kisses.
"You," Lois said. "You're ... you're perfect."
His smile tapered a little, but lost none of its appeal. "So are you."
Lois decisively turned the key. They needed to get driving.
||_||
"Are you getting hungry?" Clark asked about an hour later.
"Yeah, I am," Lois replied. She'd been looking out for a suitable diner for the last ten minutes.
"Will the banks be open yet? I would like to withdraw some cash."
"They should be open soon. I have your ATM card. I should have given it to you yesterday."
"What sort of card?"
"An automatic teller machine card. You can access your money using it," Lois said, trying to remember if she'd used a debit card in the mid-eighties. There was a chance that Clark had never used one before. If that were the case, she needed to tell him before he thought too much about the unexplainable hole in his knowledge of the world.
"I take it to the bank?" he said dubiously.
"Yes. Or any teller machine. But you can use it in some stores, too."
"I can?"
"You give it to the clerk, he puts it in a machine, you punch in your secret number, and the store takes the money directly from your account. Then, the bank sends you a statement, itemising where you spent your money."
"That sounds easy."
"It is."
"I've forgotten my secret number."
"I know it."
"So you could use this card, too?" he said.
"It's not my card," Lois said. "It's not in my name. I think it's illegal for me to use it." She saw a diner and pulled off the road. When she'd parked, she rustled through her bag and removed Clark's card and bankbook. She gave them to him, and then added a pen. "You should sign the card."
"Assuming I remember my own signature," he said wryly.
She smiled to reassure him, although he didn't look particularly troubled.
He signed his name and then examined both sides of the card. "I haven't used this before?" he said as he returned the pen.
"No. You probably have other accounts in Smallville. I don't know anything about them. This is an account the agency set up to pay you for your assistance."
"Seventy thousand dollars," Clark said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I must have done something huge."
"You did. You earned every cent of it."
His head lurched up suddenly. "Was that how I got hurt?" he said. "How I lost my memory? I did something dangerous because it was safer for me than anyone else?"
"You did it because it wasn't possible for anyone else to do it."
"And I got knocked out?"
"Yes."
"And they took me to the EPRAD base?"
"Yes."
"And you came," he said softly.
Lois nodded, a little relieved that he had chosen to concentrate on her arrival instead of asking for more details about what he had done to earn the money. "Nothing was going to keep me away."
"That's worth more than all of this money," Clark said. "Obviously, I can't remember, but I figure that it's probably more money than I've ever had before." He slipped the card into his wallet. "Let's have breakfast. I'm paying."
"OK," Lois said. Her mind had already moved on. "But ..."
"Uhmm ..." he said. His eyes had already dropped to her mouth.
"Is it still my turn to kiss you?" she asked.
"You can kiss me anytime you want to," Clark said. "But today is your day."
Lois put her hand on his neck and eased him forward. She kissed him - and added another memory to her file.
Perhaps because they were in a semi-public place ... perhaps because it was still morning and there was a long day of opportunity ahead ... but their kiss meandered sweetly like a walk through a lush valley.
When they broke apart, Clark was smiling. "What would you like?" he asked.
It took a moment for Lois to comprehend his question. "Oh," she said. "You mean breakfast."
"What did you think I meant?" he asked with tantalising innocence.
"Breakfast," she said, matching his tone. "What else?"
Clark was laughing as he climbed out of the car. Five seconds later, he was at her door, opening it for her.
"Thanks," Lois said, giving all of her attention to the task of climbing out of the car.
"Can you tell me the number for this card?"
"6108," Lois said after checking that no one was within earshot. "When you go to the bank, you can change it to protect your security."
"Does anyone else know it - other than us?"
"Daniel Scardino."
Clark's hand lightly touched her back. "When is your birthday?"
"You can't use my birthday as a PIN," Lois said, laughing. "It's supposed to be something random."
"So you're not going to tell me your birthday?" he persisted.
"August 27th."
"Aw, no," Clark said. "I've missed it for this year. Did we do something special to celebrate?"
Actually, her birthday had been swallowed up in the month she had lost - between Linda's death and finally securing safety by arriving at the US embassy.
"You don't want to tell me?" Clark asked. "Did something bad happen?"
"Nothing between us," Lois said. "We weren't together then."
"So, it's been less than two months? For us?"
"Yes."
"Time doesn't matter," Clark said as they arrived at the door of the diner. "It is a poor measure of our love."
"We'll do something special next year," Lois said.
"You'll still be with me then?"
"Absolutely."
||_||
After they had ordered, Lois stood at Clark's shoulder and discreetly guided him through the process of paying with a plastic card.
He figured he must have done it before. Probably only a few days ago. But there was nothing about the process that seemed even remotely familiar.
They chose seats near the window, away from the other diners.
"Are you going to ask your third question?" Lois said as she sat down.
"It's not really a question," Clark said. "It's more speculation. Just something that is bugging me. I want to say it so that I can then hopefully forget about it."
"OK."
Clark tried to keep his gaze fixed on her face, but it dropped. She was wearing a sweater that hid the scratches, but that didn't diminish his memory of them. "The man who hurt you," he began.
"What about him?"
"When he shot at you, and I saved you ... He must have known about my extra abilities."
"He did. But he's dead now, so he can't hurt us anymore."
"But he came back," Clark said. "He found you, and tried to hurt you again."
"Yes."
"Was that because of me?" Clark asked. "Did he try to hurt you because of what he knew about me?"
"He was an evil man," Lois said. "He'd already killed two people."
"But you were put in danger because of me?" Clark persisted.
"No."
"It seems the most likely reason to me."
"Without your abilities, it wouldn't have happened," Lois said. "Because I would have been underground in a casket."
"I've thought about this," Clark said. "And I've realised how important it is to keep the secret. If everyone knew ... that could lead to people threatening you. Because you're with me."
"It's a secret so that you can have a regular life," she said gently.
"But your safety is more important," he said, feeling sick at the thought of the scratches. What if Lois had been hurt more seriously? What if he'd arrived too late?
Lois put her hand in his. "Clark, you aren't responsible for the actions of others."
"I can't let anything or anyone hurt you."
"You were there for me. When I *really* needed you, you were there."
"But he hurt you," Clark said, his eyes dropping to where her sweater covered the scratches.
Lois squeezed his hand. "I'll tell you more of the story later," she said. "But for now, I want you to accept that the scratches were just a minor part. It could have been so much worse - you were the one who saved me from something really bad happening."
"I couldn't stand it if you were hurt because of me."
Lois smiled, filling him with hope that he would be enough to keep her safe. "This is old ground, Mr Kent," she chided so very gently.
"I've worried about this before?"
"Yes," she said. "And we decided that if we're together, nothing can hurt us."
"Then we need to stay together."
"You got it," she said.
Clark's doubts melted away.
From somewhere he couldn't place, he felt the desperate compulsion to be what Lois needed. To protect her. Physically. Emotionally. To make her happy. To see her smile.
Lois believed in him.
She knew everything about him, and she loved him.
That was enough. *He* was enough.