Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Trusting Me, Trusting You 4:Highway (9/?)

"And this ... 'Superman'? Did he do anything else? Did he help out in any other ways?"

"No. Not yet. But we'd talked about it."

"Can Evan's daughter make another suit? To replace the first one?"

"I guess so. If that's what you want."

"Maybe. We'll think about it." Clark took his arms from her back and slid gentle fingers along her jaw. "For now, I just want to be Clark Kent, regular guy, who is hopelessly in love with Lois Lane, extraordinary woman."

"Not so much the *regular* guy," Lois said. "I want to go to California."

He grinned. Then, he broke their deal.

Because *he* kissed her.

On her day!


Part 9

Clark swept Lois into his arms and grinned at her. "What now?" he said.

She pointed skywards. "I suggest that way."

He responded with a quiet chuckle, aware of how much he was enjoying having Lois in his arms. However, he was also aware that he had no firm knowledge about how they were going to get to California.

"Can you give me something more precise?" Clark asked, looking down at her and wondering if they could shelve the whole flying idea for a few minutes while he kissed her again.

"You never told me how you do it," Lois said. "You just did it."

Feeling just a little ridiculous, Clark bent his knees.

"Up!" Lois encouraged.

Nothing happened. "Perhaps you could kiss me," Clark suggested hopefully.

She grinned as she ran her hand lovingly across his cheek. "If I kiss you, we'll *float* up," she said. "And we would risk someone seeing us. We need to *shoot* up. Fast."

Clark bent his knees again and tried to elevate his thoughts.

"Throw me into the air," Lois suggested.

"Huh?"

"Hurl me upwards. You'll catch me before I get anywhere near the ground. Then we'll both be airborne. Easy."

Her relaxed attitude drove away the tension that had begun to squeeze across his shoulders, but it didn't change that his feet were still anchored to the earth. "Perhaps I *should* try it by myself first," he said.

"We've already been through that," Lois said. "We're in this together."

"But -"

She enclosed his cheeks with her hands and pinned his eyes with her gaze. "I love you," she said. "And we can do this."

His legs flexed, and he sprang up. The tops of the trees zoomed past as he and Lois launched into the expanse of sky.

"I told you you could do it," she said, crossing her ankles and lounging back as if he were a particularly comfortable armchair.

When the trees had receded to a small line far below them, Clark stalled and looked around in wonder.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Lois said.

He nodded, trying to overcome the feeling that this *had* to be a dream.

"Do you remember this?"

Did he? "I'm not sure. I never would have guessed that I could do this. Who would? But now that we're here ..."

"It doesn't seem totally foreign?"

"Not totally," Clark said. He looked down to convince himself that they really were floating. The ground was a long way below. "Do you know how I navigate?"

"The sun?"

"OK." He consulted his watch, checked the position of the sun, and turned them towards the west.

With no specific intent from him, they began to glide through the air. Fast. It felt like freedom - unfettered and exhilarating. When Clark looked at Lois, he saw his feelings reflected in her laughing excitement.

She leant in close, and for a moment, Clark thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, her mouth passed his cheek and nuzzled against his ear. "Next time you're thinking about how *odd* you are, remember this," she said.

A surge of joy sparkled through him. He could fly. With Lois. Wherever he wanted. He could -

"Where did I get that pizza?" Clark asked. "The one I brought for you?"

He felt her laughter rumble through her body. "Italy."

Italy. For a *pizza*.

The implications were still swirling through his mind when a stretch of ocean - it had to be the Pacific - appeared on the horizon. "Wow," he said.

"I told you we can move quickly when we need to," Lois said.

"But ... but we've just flown across three quarters of the United States."

"That gives us plenty of time for the beach."

As they reached the coast, Clark looked over the rim of his glasses and scanned the shoreline, looking for a place to land. A row of scrubby bushes seemed to offer the ideal location. "Hang on," he said to Lois.

He glanced into her face, saw the assurance he needed, and five seconds later, his feet gently thudded into the sandy ground.

"Nice landing," Lois said.

"Ah ... thanks."

"May I congratulate the pilot?"

Her question dragged him from the shock of distance. And time. And flight without an airplane. "Depends on the form of the congratulations," he said.

She didn't reply. Not verbally. She drew him into a lavish kiss that came close to shooting them skywards again.

Clark broke the kiss before he wanted to. Time had become an unfathomable stranger. What time he'd had was now lost. He had less than two days of memories with Lois, but he felt as if he'd known her for months. Years.

He'd said that time was a poor measure of their love. And Lois hadn't disagreed.

She pushed her hand into his. "I think I saw some stores this way," she said.

||_||

Lois tied the sides of her new sleeveless blouse into a knot at the arch of her ribcage. She looked down. Despite being dressed modestly for the beach, she was revealing a lot of skin. Her shorts only reached a few inches down her thighs, and from there, her legs were bare all the way to the stringy sandals she had purchased. Then there was the strip of flesh above the waist of her shorts.

Her fingers paused on the second top button of her blouse. She'd left the top one undone, revealing all but the lower portion of the faint lines that still marked her chest. If she undid the second button, Clark's superior height was going to give him an occasional glimpse of the top curve of her breasts.

Should she?

She undid the button.

She adjusted the blouse.

How much was too much?

Exactly what message was she trying to send? That she loved him, certainly. That she was attracted to him. That she wanted him to be attracted to her. That if he chose to move their relationship forward, she wouldn't be hanging back?

How did she encourage without pressuring?

In his mind, he'd known her for a little more than a day.

Lois fastened the button, picked up her bag, and left the changing rooms.

Clark was already waiting for her.

She stopped.

Stared.

As her heart danced the flamenco.

He was wearing a pair of red and yellow board shorts that started at the top of his hips and dropped to his knees.

The rest of him was uncovered. Right there. For her to look at.

And look she did.

Starting with his ankles, she sauntered up his lean calves, drifted past the shorts to the tight abdomen, and settled on the broad, sculptured chest. Her breaths became clogged, her mouth torrid. She tore her eyes away, luring them with the promise of wide shoulders and swollen biceps.

A blur of heartbeats later, she noticed his face.

Clark's eyes were riveted to her, his expression carved with appreciation.

Lois walked up to him, and his gaze rose to her face. He swallowed a couple of times and broke into a shy smile. "You look great," he said.

"So do you."

He offered her his hand. "Would you like to walk along the beach?"

Lois slipped her hand into his, and they began the short walk to the beachfront.

Once there, they stopped, both looking west to where the lighter blue of the sky dipped to touch the ocean. Lois leant closer to Clark - and her elbow contacted the bare skin of his side.

He looked down at her and smiled. "Which way?"

She laughed at his question. "That's what you asked the last time we were at the beach."

"I did?"

"Yeah. It wasn't this beach. You took me to a favourite place of yours. I'm not sure where it was exactly."

"We have time ... years ... to keep coming back until we find it," Clark said.

"Yeah," she agreed, already looking forward to endless walks along the beach.

"So, which way?"

Lois opened her bag and brought out a tube of sunscreen. "Would you mind?" she asked Clark.

"No," he said.

She pulled out a towel, laid it on the sand, and sat down. "You could start with my ankles," she said.

Clark dropped his knees onto the towel. "Your ankles?" he said.

Lois plopped one ankle on this thigh and sent him a nod of encouragement.

He eyed her with smiling suspicion. "Have I done this before?"

"Not with sunscreen."

He picked up her foot and slipped off her sandal. Lois arranged her bag behind her and lounged back against it.

Clark didn't open the sunscreen. He began massaging her ankle - his thumb gliding in and out of the grooves in a way that roused such potent memories that her mind felt like a carousel of reminiscence.

"Do you remember?" Lois asked quietly.

"No," Clark replied.

"I sprained my ankle," she said. "I fell over - or I would have done, except you moved so quickly that you caught me before I hit the ground. That was the first time you carried me."

"I bet I enjoyed it," Clark said. "Except for you being in pain, of course."

"The pain was no match for your touch," she said. "Or your breath."

"My breath?"

"You can cool things with your breath. It is *much* better than an icebag."

Clark lifted one hand from her foot and steadily blew onto it. Then he tilted his head and directed the gush of air onto her ankle. "Like that?" he asked when his breath had expelled.

"Exactly like that."

He propped her foot on his knee and reached for the tube, squirting a dollop onto his palm. Then he wrapped his hands around her calf and worked the cream into her skin.

Lois watched his face, getting as much pleasure from his assured manner as she was from the touch of his hands on her leg. "This is another of your special abilities," she said. "You make this feel so good."

With a smile of satisfaction, he reloaded with the sunscreen and began on her other leg, skimming up and down her calf long after all traces of the ointment had disappeared.

Then he stopped, his hand resting on her knee. "Where else?" he said, his face carefully arranged to blankness.

Lois was sure that they were both thinking the same thing. Did he continue along her thighs - right to the hem of her not-very-long shorts?

She searched his face for direction. He waited for her.

"My arms?" Lois said.

The easing of pressure was palpable. So was the dash of disappointment.

Lois swivelled. Clark's long legs stretched out on either side of hers.

His hand on her neck held back her hair while he smoothed the cream over her upper arm. The tips of his fingers edged a little way under the light cotton of her blouse.

When he had finished, he swapped sides and worked on her other arm.

Lois closed her eyes and let his touch seep into her. When he finally stopped, he didn't release her hair. "Lois?" he said in a rusty voice that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest.

"Uhmm?"

"You have the most kissable neck in the world. Would you mind if I ..."

His words set off a chain reaction of sensation that prickled across the skin of her neck. If skin could plead, that was what it was doing. "Please," she murmured.

His lips came lightly. Her head dropped forward in silent encouragement. Clark beaded a line of kisses from the centre of her neck to the ridge of her shoulder. His breath shimmered across her heated skin like the ocean breeze.

His arms rounded her waist, and Lois let herself recline into his chest. Her cheek rested against his. It was so smooth she wondered if he'd taken a few seconds to 'shave' while he was changing into his beach clothes.

They sat there, absently watching the waves stretching up the beach, mesmerised by the rhythm of two hearts beating in tandem.

Finally, with a drawn-out sigh of contentment, Clark picked up the tube of sunscreen and put it in Lois's hand. "You should do the rest of your legs," he said.

"Will you do my lower back, please?" Lois asked. She squeezed a blob onto the pads of his fingers and leant forward onto her arched knees.

Clark shuffled backwards, and then his hand made contact with her back, just below the hem of her blouse. He worked downwards - efficiently, not lingering as he had on her ankle.

His gentlemanly caution was endearing. A little frustrating, but endearing.

Lois rubbed the cream into her thighs rather haphazardly. She didn't think there was much chance of getting burned ... at least, not from the sun.

"Your turn," she said, swinging onto her knees and turning.

"Ah ... I don't think I burn," Clark said. "Not if I survived going through the earth's atmosphere."

"You don't burn," Lois informed him. "But that doesn't mean I should miss out on the fun."

His mouth fell open, and his eyebrows lifted. His smile unrolled slowly, spiced with amusement. "Where would you like to put the sunscreen?" he asked.

Trying to ignore a whole range of inappropriate replies, Lois concentrated on pushing a generous amount of the cream into her hand. "Shoulders?" she said. "Back?"

Clark pivoted on his butt - although Lois noticed that the towel didn't twist and guessed that he must have lifted from it. She didn't have the inclination to dwell on that now - not with Clark's lean and muscular back spread out before her, awaiting her attention.

She rubbed the sunscreen into his back, going all the way down to the waist of his shorts and rising again to his shoulders and upper arms. A marching battalion of memories assuaged her. Bedroom therapy. His back - hers to explore. She curved her fingers so the heel of her hand and her nails skimmed across his skin. When every inch of his back had been covered multiple times, she ventured to his sides and beyond, circling him with her arms.

Her hands flattened across his ribcage, and she tenderly kissed the junction of his shoulder and neck.

Lois heard and felt his quick intake of breath, loving that her touch could affect him just as profoundly as his touch affected her.

She unravelled from him and reached over his shoulders to trace the corrugation of his collarbones and then delved lower to the rounded definition of his pec muscles.

"I ... I think you've covered everything," he said.

The slight stumble in his words made her question if she had gone too far. "Clark?" she said, taking advantage of the fact that he was facing away. "Did I make you uncomfortable with anything I did?"

"No," he said, a little too quickly. He turned and faced her. "A little," he conceded. "But it wasn't you." His smile flickered. "Actually, it *was* you, but it's not your fault."

She wanted to melt all the awkwardness between them. "What do you mean?"

Clark smiled as he searched the towel for inspiration. "I think you know what I mean," he said quietly.

"Yes," she admitted with a smile. "But I wanted to hear you say it."

"You are dismantling my control," he said. He took her hand in his. "Happy now?"

"Yes," she said airily.

He chuckled. "You ... ah, you don't feel the need to respond in kind?"

"You think that I might be even the tiniest bit affected by all those muscles and that broad chest and a body so hot it could scare off winter?"

His mouth dropped open, but no words emerged.

"Because I am," Lois said, running her forefinger along the curve of his bicep. "My control is shot to pieces."

Clark leapt to his feet and hauled her up beside him. "We need to walk, Ms Lane," he said. He took two steps and stopped. When he looked down at her, seriousness had replaced all other emotions. "Lois?"

"Yes?"

"We have to be honest with each other, right?"

"Of course."

"There's a fine line between being honest enough to let a woman know she's driving you crazy and coming across as a sleaze. I'm desperately trying to walk that line. What I feel for you covers the whole spectrum of how a man loves a woman. It's just that when you're dressed like that, it's easy to get the balance a little skewed."

"You didn't get anything skewed," Lois said. She went to lay a hand on his chest, but then adjusted and reached for his shoulder. "I need you to be honest with me," she said. "I don't want you to feel that I'm pushing you into something before you're ready."

"I can't remember anything specific," Clark said. "But I know my love for you spans far longer than two days."

Her instinct was to kiss him, but perhaps they both needed a little breathing space. "Let's walk," Lois said. She pointed to the left. "This way."

"Would it be all right if I put my arm around your shoulder?" Clark asked.

"Can I put my arm around your waist?"

"Yep," he said with a pleased smile.

Lois slipped her hand along his back and hooked it just above his hip. His arm crossed her shoulders, and they fell into step.

"I love your hair," Clark said. "I love how it feels. Right now, I love how it bounces on my arm."

"Last time we were at the beach, you asked me not to tie it back because you enjoyed watching it in the wind."

He smiled at that. "Why did I wash your hair?"

"You remember that?" Lois squeaked. "You're remembering something?"

Clark didn't answer for a few crunchy steps. "Yeah," he said. "I can't remember anything else - not even where we were - but there's something."

"Can you describe what? Before I fill you in on the details?"

"I can remember the feel of your damp hair. I can remember running my fingers across your scalp. For some reason, I felt I had to be really careful."

"Is that all?"

Clark grinned. "I know that I loved every moment of it."

"Is this the first thing you've remembered?"

"I've had a few vague feelings - but they seem to hover just out my reach. This is the first time I've managed any clarity at all."

"Would you like to know more about the hair-washing?"

"If you don't mind telling me."

"When I got the scratches, I also got a small head wound. It had bled a bit and clotted in my hair. You washed it for me."

"That's why I knew I had to be careful."

"Yes. You were wonderful - so caring and loving. I really needed you - and you knew exactly what to do to help me."

"Perhaps I learned from you," Clark said. "Because since yesterday morning, you've known exactly how to be what I've needed."

"I think we've learned a lot from each other."

He nodded. "Is your head all right now?"

"Yes," Lois said. "It was only minor."

Clark glanced down. "Your scratches have nearly healed, too," he said. "I can hardly see them."

"That whole incident was very unpleasant. But it's over now. I just want to forget it." Clark chuckled, and Lois realised what she'd said. "Oops," she said. "Sorry."

"It's OK," he said. "When you bought your beach clothes, did you see anything that you would like for our date tonight?"

"Not in that store. But there was a boutique nearby that could hold some possibilities."

"I'd like you to buy something special," Clark said. "And I'd like you to get whatever else you need - shoes, bag ... whatever."

"Thank you."

"I figure that until I learn more about your tastes, it would be better if you bought stuff like perfume for yourself."

"You don't have to -"

"Lois," he said. "I suspect that even before my amnesia, I didn't have too much experience with women. I'd like to buy you gifts - things a man buys for the woman he loves - but I just draw a blank." He shrugged. "I have nothing to guide me in this."

"Clark," she said with a smile. "Last night, you literally swept me off my feet. You don't have anything to worry about."

"So, I'm doing OK?" he asked.

"You are doing brilliantly."

"I want you to be happy."

"Then stay with me," she said. "Always."

Clark dropped a kiss on her temple. "Always," he promised.

||_||

"I want this one."

Lois looked up from where she was glancing through the rack of dresses. Clark had taken down a dress of burgundy chiffon and was examining it.

She reached for the price tag, but he firmly enclosed it in his fist. "Do you like it?" he asked.

"Clark, it probably costs a fortune."

"Do you like it?"

"I haven't even tried it on yet."

"Would you? For me?" He disconnected the price tag and handed her the dress. "Please?"

"Why this one?" Lois asked.

"Because the moment I saw it, I could imagine you wearing it." He slid his hands into his pockets. "But if you hate it ..."

"I'll try it on," Lois said. "Would you like to see?"

"Only if you decide not to buy it," he replied.

Lois gave him a smile and headed for the fitting rooms, already knowing that unless it was positively awful, she would agree to Clark buying the dress for her.

It wasn't positively awful. Quite the opposite, in fact.

But - it was revealing.

*Very* revealing. The neckline plunged, making the black dress she had worn last night seem almost matronly in comparison.

Lois was sure that Clark hadn't realised. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Should she refuse the dress, but not say why?

Should she refuse the dress and explain her reasons? If she did that, he was probably going to feel bad that he had suggested it.

Or should she take it off now, allow him to buy it, and let tonight look after itself?

Lois slipped out of the dress and quickly donned her jeans and the blouse she had worn at the beach.

As soon as she stepped out of the fitting room, Clark's face lit with pleasure. "You're not wearing it," he said. "That means we're buying it."

She couldn't refuse him. She would just play it cool tonight - adopt the attitude that there was nothing notable about the extensive dip of the neckline and hope that Clark followed her lead.

Clark took the dress from her in masterful fashion, giving her no chance to change her mind. "Do you need anything else?" he asked. "Shoes? Bag? Jacket?"

"No. Thank you," Lois said with a smile. "I have everything I need."

"I'll pay," Clark said. "And then we should probably get back to the Jeep."

She watched him walk right up to the female assistant and pay for the dress, making easy conversation, charming her - and probably completely oblivious that his smile had made her day.

Lois laughed as a swell of happiness billowed through her. Fundamental Clark with a shot of confidence was definitely the most exhilarating and heart-warming of prospects.

And she had a date with him.

Tonight.

||_||

"Lois?" Clark said. "Would you mind if we stopped soon and looked for a motel? I know we could drive for another couple of hours, but I'd like to find a restaurant for our date."

Lois checked the time. It was just after four o'clock. "Sure," she said.

"We will come to a fairly big town soon," he said, perusing the map. "It should have a variety of nice restaurants."

He sounded slightly anxious. Lois smiled. "I'm sure we'll find the perfect place."

He went back to studying the map, and Lois's thoughts jumped ahead to tonight.

They had decided they would eat out. Clark knew enough now that being in public shouldn't be a problem. Lois smiled at the memory of her dress. Its colour was almost exactly the same shade as the dress she had worn on their date in the cell.

Had Clark remembered? If only subconsciously?

If he remembered the date, would he remember the location?

Had they come far enough that even if he recalled something about the cell, its power over him would be diluted by the strength of their relationship?

It was impossible to predict. But Lois was going to cling to this carefree Clark for as long as she could. She wouldn't tell him about the cell until there was no other option.

Fifteen minutes later, they entered the town. The first motel they came to seemed suitable, and Lois pulled into the parking space in front of the reception area.

"I'll get it," Clark said, opening the car door the instant she cut the motor. "You stay here and relax."

Lois settled back in her seat, smiling as she wriggled her bare toes and a few grains of sand fell from her feet.

The beach had been a great idea. Clark's easy acceptance of being bare-chested had seemed like being given the richest of desserts after spending weeks on a diet.

And she was definitely not the only woman to notice.

But what had warmed her heart was that Clark had appeared totally ignorant of the many appreciative looks.

Except for hers.

He had caught her staring more than once. His response had been a half-shy, half-pleased smile.

What would happen at the end of their date tonight? They would kiss - Lois had no doubt about that. But where would the kiss lead?

It had been less than two days, she reminded herself. Clark needed time. She needed patience.

Her sigh was stifled as Clark appeared. He got into the car with a smile. "Rooms 6 and 7," he said. "This way."

Lois quickly turned the key and started the motor, desperate to hide her crushing disappointment.

Two rooms.

||_||

Clark carried Lois's suitcase into her room and put it on the floor. "Will you be OK for a bit while I go and look around the town?" he said. "I'd like to find the right restaurant and make a reservation."

"OK," she said, stifling the sprig of anxiety at the thought of him being alone.

Clark smiled. "Get some rest," he said. "You've had a big day. And I know you didn't sleep much the night I was missing." He kissed her quickly. "Do you mind if I take the Jeep?"

"No. Of course not."

"Thanks," he said, flashing that smile. "See you soon."

He left her room and shut the door.

Lois walked to the window and watched him drive away.

Two rooms.

She should have known that Clark would never assume they would share a room.

But she couldn't help feeling a little dejected at the prospect of another night alone.

||_||

A tap sounded on Lois's door as she took a final look in the mirror.

She paused, pulling together the two sides of the deep V of her cleavage. Her efforts had little effect.

It wasn't daring enough to be scandalous. But it was definitely a whole lot more than Clark was expecting.

With a sigh of acceptance, Lois went to the door of her motel room and opened it.

As she'd expected, Clark was there.

Smiling. He brought his arm from behind this back and presented her with a large bunch of flowers with mauve petals springing from golden centre buds.

Lois laughed. "Asters," she said.

"You said they are your favourite."

"They are." She took the bunch and retreated into the room. "I'll get some water for them."

Clark followed her, revealing the vase in his other hand. "I got this from the reception area," he said.

"Thanks." Lois went into the tiny bathroom to fill the vase with water. She put it on the small writing desk and began to unwrap the flowers.

After a few minutes, she became aware that Clark hadn't moved. She glanced up from her task, saw his expression, and realised that she had been leaning forward. She straightened and approached him with a smile. He still looked shell-shocked, so she twirled, and the sleek fabric of the dress danced around her knees.

"Like it?" she asked.

His throat jumped. "I ... I didn't know."

"Know what?" she said nonchalantly.

"How ... how *low* it is."

She glanced down as if checking out the dress. "It looks pretty standard to me."

A tinge of colour had risen into Clark's cheeks. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wouldn't have insisted on this dress if I'd known how it would look."

"You don't like it?" Lois asked innocently.

His smile cracked a rent through his concern. "I like it," he said with warm appreciation. "Probably too much."

"Then don't worry," she said, returning to the asters.

Clark gathered up the gold wrapping. He folded it carefully and took it to the trashcan.

Lois smiled to herself, wondering how long it would be before he relaxed enough to stop looking for somewhere other than her cleavage to park his eyes.

"Ready?" he said, turning, his eyes fixated to her face.

"Ready," she said.

He took her hand, and together they went to the Jeep.

||_||

The date was perfect.

Clark had chosen a stylish Italian restaurant. The food was flavoursome and beautifully presented. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing loud enough to fill some gaps in their conversation, but never loud enough to impede it.

As the meal progressed, Clark appeared to relax. He was still careful not to linger as his eyes travelled back and forth from her face to the food on his plate, but he smiled often enough that Lois surmised he was having a good time.

He didn't know, of course, but Lois reflected that this was possibly his first-ever restaurant date.

When they had finished - with creamy coffees and a cheese platter - Clark paid, and they walked out into the dark evening air.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked.

Lois sensed a little apprehension in his question. Perhaps he, too, wasn't looking forward to their separate rooms. "That would be nice," she replied.

His grin was quick. "Are you cold?" Without waiting for a reply, he slipped off his jacket and put it across her shoulders.

"Thanks."

They walked a few steps in silence.

Lois sorted through her mind for another topic. Perhaps she could mention again how wonderful the food had been.

Clark stopped suddenly and turned to her. His hand tightened around hers. His other hand dived into the pocket of his trousers.

"Lois," he said, pulling his hand from his pocket and revealing a ring box. "I love you. Would you marry me?"