Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Trusting Me, Trusting You: Epilogue

A/N - The time in each heading indicates how long has passed from the end of the story.

Trusting Me, Trusting You - Epilogue


~~ Sunday, 2 hours ~~

Martha Kent straightened from where she had been waging war on the armies of weeds that had invaded her vegetable garden. She glanced up to the window of Clark's bedroom. It was her bedroom now, she reminded herself.

What was happening in the other bedroom?

Before she could contemplate further, two figures emerged from the kitchen door. The sight of them caused her heart to swell. With love. And pride. And optimism.

Everything was going to be all right.

They were holding hands. They were shoulder to shoulder. They were chuckling over a shared secret. They seemed bound together by an aura of oneness.

Martha watched every step as they approached her, revelling in the sight of her son looking so contented and relaxed. When they reached her, he smiled, and her heart overflowed.

"Mom," Clark said. "I know you've already met, but this is my wife, Lois."

Martha grinned at the younger woman. "It is lovely to meet you officially, Lois," she said.

"And I am so glad to meet you, Mrs Kent."

Martha chuckled. "There are two Mrs Kents now, so you should call me Martha."

"Martha," Lois said.

"Shall we go inside?" Martha suggested. "I want to cook a meal in my own kitchen, and I want to get to know my daughter-in-law." She lightly touched Clark's arm, just because she could. "And I want to make up for lost time with my son."

His smile came easily, free from the uncertainties that had so often marred his happiness in the past. "I'll put away your tools, Mom," he said.

He was gone and back in a blur. Martha looked at Lois, and they both laughed. Together, the family of three walked into the farmhouse.

Martha picked up the envelope from the table and gave it to Clark. "This is for you," she said.

"What is it?"

"Mr Menzies asked me to give it to you," she said. "He didn't say what it was."

Clark opened the envelope and slid out two sheets of paper. He skimmed over them.

"What are they?" Lois asked.

"There's a signed statement from the head of the Metropolis Police Department declaring that I was in no way involved in the deaths of Philip Deller and John Bortolotto," Clark said. "And there's a letter from the President of the United States thanking me for diverting the asteroid and officially welcoming me to the planet." He returned the papers to the envelope and tossed it onto the table.

"Are you all right?" Lois asked, sounding concerned.

Clark smiled suddenly. "I guess it's a nice gesture," he said. "But the two people I care about most didn't need an official letter to know that I hadn't killed anyone. And they welcomed me into their hearts, not just their planet."

Martha opened her arms, and both of her children stepped into her embrace.

She held them close, and the long years of pain and separation and fear faded away in the sunshine of hope for a future together.

||_||

~~ Monday, 1 day ~~

Maggie Irig heard the car purr up the driveway and dried her hands on her apron. She went outside and saw the Buick that her neighbour, Lois, drove.

Smiling in welcome, Maggie hurried forward to greet her company.

The car door opened.

A woman emerged.

Maggie stopped, her heart thundering, her breath arrested, her mind wanting so desperately to believe.

"Martha?" she squealed. She sprinted forward and into the arms of her friend. They clung together - laughing and crying breathless half-sentences of jubilation.

"Maggie," Martha said. "Oh, Maggie. I have missed you so much."

Maggie wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd lost the best friend I've ever had."

"You haven't lost me," Martha said, turning towards the house. "But I'm aching to have a cup of tea with you and catch up on all the news. Clark told me that Brett is getting married. And you've met Lois? She is perfect, Maggie. Clark is ..."

Maggie hugged her friend tighter, sending silent thanks heavenwards that her prayers had been answered.

||_||

~~ Wednesday, 3 days ~~

Eric met Scardino and Shadbolt at the warehouse on Bessolo Boulevard.

They locked themselves in the back room and began the unpalatable task of meticulously combing through everything that had been removed from Neville Moyne's apartment. Five hours later, they had accumulated a small pile of eight green pebbles of various sizes.

Eric cupped them in his large hands. "What happens now?" he asked.

"I think we owe it to him to destroy all of it," Shadbolt said.

"Do we trust him?" Eric said. "Implicitly?"

"Yes," Shadbolt said, sounding as if he had no doubts.

Eric's gaze swung to Scardino. "What do you think?"

"I agree. We owe him."

"What if he changes? What if he decides that his powers can be used for greater self-gain?"

"That is not going to happen," Shadbolt snapped.

"The foremost priority of a government agency is to protect the citizens of their country," Eric reminded them.

"And he is our most valuable asset in doing exactly that," Shadbolt insisted firmly.

"Can we be sure that no one from his planet will come to Earth?" Eric said. "Aliens with an entirely different agenda?"

"His planet was destroyed," Scardino said.

"Can we be sure of that?"

There was silence as the three men stared at the innocuous-looking collection.

"If others do come," Shadbolt said. "And if they threaten us, he would do everything in his considerable power to protect us."

"If we don't destroy the rocks, we risk them falling into the wrong hands," Scardino said.

Eric rolled the pebbles around his palms. "It's your call, Shadbolt," he said.

The former agent shot him a silent question.

"Well, I see it like this," Eric said. "I have no children and never will. Scardino might have children one day, but he hasn't yet. You have two daughters. You have the best reason for safeguarding the future of this planet. You have the most to lose if we get it wrong."

"I say we destroy all of it," Shadbolt said. "It's the only honourable thing to do. And it ensures that people like Trask and Moyne can't ever use it against him."

"What is the best way to do it?" Eric asked.

"Mrs Kent flushed the piece you gave me," Shadbolt said.

"Well, it's already been hidden in sewage," Eric said, looking around at Neville's collection of repugnant magazines and books.

"But that doesn't actually destroy it," Scardino said. "The rods were cremated."

Eric shot a questioning look to Shadbolt. He nodded.

"Cremation, it is then," Eric said.

Less than two hours later, all of the green pebbles were gone.

The earth had no means of protection against invading aliens.

But they had Superman. And Eric figured they were in safe hands.

||_||

~~ Ten days ~~

Lois spun away from her computer screen at the sound of Clark's running feet. He rushed into the room, his face alight with excitement.

"What?" she said as he lifted her into his arms and swung her around.

Clark held up a piece of paper, and Lois saw the logo of the University of Missouri. "They've accepted my application to continue my journalism course," he said. "And they've agreed that I can study by correspondence."

Lois kissed him exuberantly. "Clark," she whooped. "I'm so pleased for you."

"The semester has already begun, so I have a bit of catching up to do," he said, grinning. "Luckily, I can speed-read."

"And speed-type," Lois said. "Just please don't melt my keyboard."

"I think your keyboard is in greater danger from your novel," he noted seriously.

Lois tried valiantly to contain her grin, knowing *exactly* the path of his thoughts.

He glanced down to her desk. "The computer's not steaming," he said. "I guess that means you still haven't got them into bed yet."

"They sleep every night," she answered innocently.

Clark grinned. "But not together." His hand slipped under her sweater and slowly edged up her back. "I think further research is required, Ms Lane."

"Research?"

He nodded. "And Mom's in Smallville, so we have the house to ourselves." He lobbed his letter onto her desk.

"I thought research involved books," Lois commented.

"Nah," Clark said. "Books are a poor alternative. This sort of research requires a hands-on approach."

"And you are kindly putting aside your work outside to volunteer to help me?"

"That's the sort of husband I am," he said with a wolfish grin. "Wanna come upstairs with me, my love?"

Lois chuckled. "You know I'm insatiable when it comes to you," she said.

He gave a rakish grunt of anticipation and flew them to the top of the stairs and into their bedroom, stopping only to shut the door.

And the research continued.

||_||

~~ Three weeks ~~

Martha paused from her task of rolling out the pastry for a pie as her son walked in from outside, brushing the light dusting of snow from his clothes. "Is everything OK out there?" she asked.

"Yep," he said. "Where's Lois? I can't hear her keyboard tapping."

Martha grinned. Her son was one crazy-in-love young man. "She's -"

Her reply was cut short as Lois swung through the door and into her husband's arms. They kissed as if they hadn't seen each other for weeks, although by Martha's calculations, it was about forty-two minutes since Lois had kissed Clark good-bye before he had gone to the barn to check on the animals.

They were still kissing as Martha returned her attention to her pastry. Joy bubbled in her heart. Clark had everything she and Jonathan had dreamed for him - a woman to love, a career, and - although Superman had only made three appearances since the public press conference - a way to use his abilities to help the people of his adopted planet.

She looked up as Clark slipped into a seat and pulled Lois down onto his lap. "It's Thanksgiving this week," he commented.

"We have so much to be thankful for," Martha said. "We are going to have a wonderful holiday. I brought the turkey home yesterday."

"I can't wait," Lois said with a kiss to Clark's cheek. "My family's idea of Thanksgiving was staying in separate rooms of the house so we couldn't argue."

"I've been thinking about that," Martha said.

Lois and Clark managed to wrest their attention from each other long enough to send her inquiring looks.

"We have so much," Martha said. "I thought we should share it with someone."

"Good idea," Clark said. "Who?"

"How about your dad?" Martha said to her daughter-in-law.

"My dad?"

"You and Clark could arrange with Ronny to take him out of the nursing home for a few hours. Clark could fly him here. I know this house isn't wheelchair-friendly, but with Clark around, that isn't going to be a problem. What do you think?"

"Dad would have to know about Clark," Lois said as she checked for her husband's reaction. "How do you feel about that?"

Clark pause was short. "I think it's a great idea," he said. "Your dad really enjoyed the lunch we had with Uncle Mike. And if he knows about me - well, he can visit us regularly. I'm sure he'll enjoy Mom's home cooking."

"Are you worried he will tell someone?" Lois asked.

"I don't think he would if we ask him not to," Clark said. He stroked Lois's hair. "But even if he did, it's hard for him to communicate complicated ideas, and I'm not sure too many people would believe him if he tried to say he had flown to Kansas."

"If you don't mind him knowing, I think it's a lovely idea for him to join us," Lois said. She smiled at Martha. "Thank you for thinking of him."

"If you wanted to squeeze in a quick visit to the nursing home now, the pie should be nicely browned by the time you get back," Martha said.

"Want to go flying with me?" Clark asked his wife.

Lois grinned. "Anytime," she said.

They went up the stairs to put on warmer clothes, and Martha couldn't help but smile as their laughter floated down.

Her greatest joy since returning home had been watching their love become more established each day. Watching her son's confidence flourish in the steady warmth of Lois's love. Watching the way his eyes lit up every time she walked into the room.

Three days later, the Kent-Lane family celebrated Thanksgiving in the warm farmhouse kitchen. There were moments of reflection at what had been lost, but overwhelmingly, it was a time of hope. A time to look forward. A time to acknowledge the gift of family and the joy of being together.

A time to heal.

||_||

~~ Five weeks ~~

Clark stood at the edge of the gravesite as the casket was lowered into the ground. His mom was on his right, his arm across her shoulders. His wife was on his left, her hand securely folded into his.

Inside, his emotions were in chaos. His dad had died. The death was five years ago, but right now, the passing of time was ineffective in numbing his grief for the man who had taken an alien child into his heart and into his home.

But alongside the sorrow, there was also relief. And closure. His dad had been brought home and laid to rest in the Smallville cemetery, amongst his friends, close to his family.

The minister finished his words. Clark eased his mom closer. She looked up, and he saw the same conflicting emotions - tears in her eyes, yet a serene smile on her face.

"I'm so glad we could bring him home," she whispered. "He has finally been laid to rest."

Clark nodded, feeling the lump in his throat grow larger. Lois gently squeezed his hand - a gesture full of the support and understanding that characterised her love for him.

The casket had disappeared.

"Thank you, Dad," Clark murmured. "I love you."

||_||

~~ Five and half weeks ~~

Lois groaned as her cell phone cut through the wonderful languor that followed lovemaking. "Clark," she said. "We need to go back down to the bed so I can reach my bag."

Clark grunted, soft and satisfied, and lowered them slowly to the bed.

Lois took out her cell phone and saw the call was from Eric Menzies. "Mr Menzies?" she said with surprise.

"Lois," he said urgently. "There's been an explosion on one of the ships in the harbour. We need -"

"I'll tell him."

Clark had already wriggled out from under her and spun into the Suit. He dipped to kiss her.

"I love you," she said. "Come home safely."

"I love you," he said.

And then he was gone.

||_||

Over three hours later, the fires on the vessel had been brought under control, the spillage of fuel and chemicals had been contained, and every person still alive had been removed from the wreckage.

Clark stood on the dock, looking through the ship and locating the bodies of those who hadn't survived the initial explosion or who had died soon after from smoke inhalation or radiant heat.

He heard a step beside him and turned to see Stephen, the guy who had overseen the entire rescue operation. "Great job," Stephen said. "Thanks to you, the death toll will be less than thirty instead of in the hundreds."

"That's still thirty lives lost. Thirty families grieving."

Stephen put his hand on Superman's shoulder. "In this job, we can't dwell too much on the ones we lose," he said. "That sounds harsh, but we owe it to tomorrow's victims to be at our best for them."

Superman nodded, but it didn't ease the pain inside him.

"It was an honour working with you," Stephen said. "You're welcome on my rescue operation anytime."

"Thanks." Superman gestured towards the ship. "I'll bring out the bodies. Can you cordon off an area for them?"

"Sure," Stephen said. "And thank you again."

||_||

An hour later, Clark arrived at his bedroom door. He locked his hearing onto the heartbeat of his wife, unable to quell his hope that she would be awake.

He quietly opened the door and entered their bedroom. She sat up, switched on the bedside lamp, and sprang from the bed to come to him.

He caught her shoulders and held her back. "I'm a mess," he said. But he needed her. He needed her to help dispel the stench of death and lifelessness and horrible injuries.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We saved a lot of people."

"But not all?"

"No. Some near the explosion didn't have a chance."

Her hands reached for his face and touched him with palpable love. "You know that is going to happen," she said. "You know you won't save everyone."

He nodded. He knew that, but it still hurt.

"There are people alive now who would be dead without you. There are people receiving medical attention now who would still be trapped without you. There are people who have lesser injuries because of you. And there are rescue workers at home with their family now because you made their job safer."

He knew that. But he'd needed to hear it. He'd needed her to say it.

"I have an idea," Lois said.

"I *love* your ideas," he breathed.

"How about some bathroom therapy?"

"Bathroom therapy?" he asked - not because he couldn't imagine what she meant, but because he wanted to hear her vocalise her thoughts.

"I think we could start with a Superman strip," she said as she reached behind him and grasped the zipper of his suit. "Then, once the Suit is off, I'll be able to see more clearly which parts of you need washing."

"That sounds as if your pyjamas would be in serious danger of getting wet," he said, undoing a button from her pyjama top and glancing downwards.

"We can't allow that to happen," she said. "So I guess I'll have to undress, too."

"If that's the case ..." Clark swung her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He shut the door behind them and looked down at the woman who had given him everything. "I need you," he said, his buffeted emotions making his voice raspy and rough. "I need you to come home to."

"And I need you." She slowly lowered his zipper.

Clark chuckled and gave himself up to the restorative power of bathroom therapy.

||_||

~~ Saturday, six weeks ~~

Monica Deller stood shivering amongst half a dozen other hardy parents as she watched her son, Billy, and his team play football. Phil had loved the sport, but her interest centred solely on her son's involvement.

She had seen every game he'd played. She'd learned enough about football to make intelligent comments when Billy figured that the three hours following the game were needed to dissect every play, every touchdown, every move.

The wind felt cold enough to cut her in half.

Sometimes, she wished her son had fallen in love with basketball. Or baseball. Or even hockey - at least it was played indoors.

And often, she wondered how different life would have been if Phil hadn't been killed when Billy was so young.

This would be so much more bearable with Phil's arms around her, keeping out the cold. If he could have been there to talk about game with their son.

Billy's team was being horribly beaten.

Monica sighed. There was still at least another half an hour before it would finish and she could seek the warmth of her car.

Then, the ball was flicked to the opposing team's quarterback, who leant back and threw a long pass to the receiver. He caught the ball and turned to run to the touchdown line. Monica groaned.

From nowhere came Billy, sprinting like a whippet.

"Go, Billy," Monica screamed.

Her son caught the opponent and laid a tackle. The ball spilled free.

"Great tackle, Billy," came a deep male voice next to her.

She turned.

*Superman* was there.

Superman.

Watching Billy's game.

He *knew* Billy's name.

Monica gulped.

Superman turned to her with a smile. "He's got some great closing speed," he said.

"Y...yeah," was the best she could manage.

"His dad was a friend of mine," Superman said. "Would you mind if Billy and I threw some balls together?"

Would she *mind*? "No. Th...that would be ... be ... wonderful."

Superman smiled. He had a magnificent smile. "After school on Tuesday?"

"Y...yes. Billy will be thrilled."

"See you then."

With that, he flew away, leaving Monica Deller to wonder if all the hours she had spent standing in the icy cold had finally rendered her delusional.

||_||

~~ December 20th, eight and a half weeks ~~

Martha put down the book she had been pretending to read and looked out the living room window towards the barn. Clark was in there. Lois was a few feet away, engrossed in her novel.

Now was Martha's moment.

But she hadn't felt this sort of nervousness in years.

She pulled on her coat and walked towards the barn, promising herself that she wouldn't make an inane comment and scuttle away. Like she had last time. And the time before that.

Clark was lying under the tractor, tinkering with its engine. He lifted a few inches from the ground and floated out. "Hi, Mom," he said as he sprang to his feet.

"Hi, Clark."

He reached for a rag and began wiping his hands. When she didn't speak, he said, "Is everything OK?"

"It's Christmas next week," she said.

"Are you worried about missing Dad?" he asked.

Martha's heart dived, did an ungainly pirouette, and collapsed into a heap somewhere around her navel. "I will always miss Jonathan," she said. "But this is the sixth Christmas I've had without him."

"I wish he could be here with us," Clark said.

"I do, too." Martha loved Clark's empathy, but he really wasn't making this any easier. Perhaps she should just ask him if he'd like her to make an apple pie for supper tonight and try to ignore the idea that kept prowling through her mind.

"Do you need help with the preparations?" Clark asked. "Are you concerned about Sam coming?"

"No, of course not. It was wonderful having him here at Thanksgiving."

Clark's hands stilled from their cleaning as he waited for her to speak.

"I ... Clark, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

"OK," he said.

"I wondered ... I wondered if you'd mind if I invited someone else."

"Sure," Clark said, although his expression showed his incomprehension as to why this was such a big deal. "Are you thinking about inviting Wayne and Maggie?"

"No," Martha said. She took a breath. "I'd like to ask Evan and his daughters."

Clark began mindlessly wiping his hands on the rag again.

Martha tried to read his face. "H...how would you feel about that?"

"I ... Would you mind if I asked a couple of questions?"

"No," she said, half petrified and half glad that she was going to have the chance to get everything into the open.

"Is this just a Christmas gesture?" Clark asked softly. "Or more than that?"

"I ... I'm hoping more than that," she said, watching carefully for his reaction.

Clark looked as if he didn't know what to say.

"Clark," Martha said. "You know I loved your father. I still miss him, and I would give anything to have him here with us. But I have to accept that no amount of wishing is going to bring him back. And I still have a lot of life to live."

"You know that you will always be welcome with Lois and me? She loves you. She feels closer to you than to her own mom."

"I know I will always have you and Lois," Martha said. "And watching you together is one of the joys of my life, but ..."

"But?"

"Jonathan and I loved you."

"Of course," Clark said, looking puzzled.

"But you still felt ... lonely. Didn't you? You still felt as if you needed someone just for you?"

Clark nodded.

"That's how I feel now. I love you both, and I know you love me. But *your* love is just for you. And I'm lonely." She met his eyes, hoping for his understanding. "And I miss Evan."

Clark reached for her with a moderately clean hand and ran his palm down her upper arm. "Have you spoken to him since he brought you home?"

"I wrote him, thanking him for bringing me home."

"Did he reply?"

"Yes," she said. "A very short and impersonal reply that began with 'Dear Mrs Kent' and was signed, 'Evan Shadbolt'."

Clark winced. "I guess he meant what he said before he left."

"What did he say?"

"That there was no place for him here. That there was too much in the past. I think his exact words were that he 'had made a mistake' and now he was 'going to have to pay for it.'"

"You've told me very little about the seven missing years," Martha said. "But I know Evan was there - probably as your guard. He is so sorry for his part in what happened."

"I know."

"I understand that this could be too difficult for you, Clark. That's why I'm asking you before contacting Evan."

Clark wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Mom," he said. "I have everything. My heart is so full that sometimes it feels as if it is going to burst with happiness. Most days, I don't even think about those years. If Evan makes you less lonely, I think it would be great to have him and his family here for Christmas."

Martha scrutinised her son's face. "But I want more than that," she said. "I want to know that you're going to be all right with this. I can't start something unless I'm sure you will be OK with where it might finish."

He took in a big breath. "I have Lois," he said.

"Yes," Martha said, unable to restrain her grin. "You have Lois."

"When I was growing up, I dreamed about having someone - someone who loved me and whose love took away that aching loneliness. I knew she would have to be someone who knew everything about me. There were some girls who showed an interest, but I always wondered if they would feel the same if they knew the real me."

"Did you ever think about telling any of them?"

"No. Never. I was too scared. But, Lois ... she saw me at my absolute worst. She knew *everything* about me, and she saw the resulting squalor and helplessness. But despite all of that, she loved me." He looked out of the barn door, swallowing roughly.

"What are you trying to say?" Martha asked softly.

"That I don't have any room for bitterness. That if Evan makes you happy, there is nothing in the past that should stand in the way."

"It's serious, Clark," Martha said. "On my side, anyway. He hasn't said anything yet."

Clark's smile flashed. "I would love to be there when he gets your call."

"Do you think he'll be pleased?"

"He'll probably be stubborn," Clark said. "But if he keeps on being stupid, perhaps Superman could kidnap his girls. Then, he'll have to come."

Martha's heart managed to haul itself back into her chest.

"Do you think you might marry him?" Clark asked.

"Would you feel as if that were replacing your father?"

"No," Clark said. "I think that by loving again, you would be honouring what you had with Dad."

"If Evan were to propose, I would accept without hesitation," she said.

"When did this happen?" Clark asked. His smile came cheekily. "And I probably should ask if you're sure about this."

"When did it happen?" Martha said. "Sometime during those hours I spent with him. Although I didn't realise it until later when I couldn't stop thinking about him. Am I sure? Yes."

"How can you be sure?"

His question seemed to have stemmed from simple curiosity rather than scepticism. "There was a good man in the community where I lived," Martha said. "His name was Josiah, and he asked me to marry him. I liked him a lot. But I didn't love him. I knew that I couldn't marry him."

"And this is different?"

"Yes."

"It happened quickly," Clark said mildly.

Martha smiled as she felt herself relax. "If you'd met Lois under normal circumstances, how long do you think it would have taken you to know that you wanted to be with her?"

"About three seconds."

They laughed together.

"I'm really pleased for you, Mom," Clark said as he sobered. "The last seven years were hard for you, too. I just want you to be happy."

"I'll call him."

"If this works out, you'll have another motherless child to raise. And a teenager."

Martha smiled. "This is about Evan," she said. "But Abi - and Layla, too - well, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the thought of them fills my heart with happiness." She grinned. "Abi might show more interest in learning to knit than you ever did."

Clark chuckled with affection. "I bet you've already planned the lessons," he said.

"I have," Martha said. She put her hand on his arm. "Would you talk with Evan? Please? If he comes for Christmas? Would you tell him that you're OK with him being here?"

Clark nodded. "I'll tell him."

"Thank you," Martha said as she hugged her son.

She managed to walk until she was out of sight of the barn, and then she ran into the house. Lois looked up from her keyboard.

"Lois, honey," Martha said. "I would like to invite Evan Shadbolt and his girls here for Christmas."

"Have you talked with Clark?"

"Yes. He says it's OK with him."

Lois grinned. "Great." She turned back to her screen.

"You ... That's all you have to say?" Martha said.

Lois turned slowly, still grinning. "Evan Shadbolt has become an expert at pretending he's a crusty old curmudgeon," she said. "It's going to be such fun watching you break him down." She stood. "I think I need to go to my husband. Just to check if he's still as gorgeous as ever." She kissed Martha's cheek as she walked past.

Martha hurried to the phone at the bottom of the stairs and dialled Evan's number.

"Evan Shadbolt."

She smiled at the brittleness in his voice. "Evan," she said softly. "It's Martha."

"How are you, Mrs Kent?" he said formally.

"I want you to bring Layla and Abi and celebrate Christmas with us."

His sucked-in breath made it easy to imagine the look on his face. "No," he said. "Thank you, but I can't."

"You have other plans?" she asked innocently.

"The girls and I are planning to have Christmas at home."

"Lovely," Martha enthused. "Bring your plans here, and we can all enjoy them."

"I can't do that," he said dully. "You know why."

"You don't like me?" she said. "You don't like home cooking? You don't like Kansas?"

"Martha," he said, sounding desperate. "Martha, please don't do this. The only thing I can do for Clark and Lois now is to stay away from them."

"Those two kids are so happy with each other that there's no room in either of their hearts for anything other than joy," she said.

"I can't."

"They haven't said anything to me, but I think Lois and Clark would like to move to Metropolis after Clark graduates from college. But they won't, of course."

"Why not?"

"They won't leave me alone. Clark will probably get a job with the Smallville Post, but I know he could do so much better than that. And being in Metropolis will give him many more opportunities to *help*."

"What are you saying, Martha?"

"That I miss you. That I think it's silly for you to be lonely in Metropolis and me to be lonely in Smallville. Particularly after Layla leaves for college in the fall."

"Martha ..."

"Clark told me that you said that sometimes we need other people to help us see the truth in a situation."

"I can see the truth," he said, sounding just a little defensive.

Martha chuckled. "What is this truth that you can see?"

"That you are a beautiful and special lady. That I am one of the people who inflicted such pain on your son. That there is no way around that."

"That's not the truth I see," she said. "Come for Christmas, and I'll help you see things more clearly."

"Martha ..."

"Good," she said. "I'll pick you up from the Wichita Airport. Let me know the time of your flight."

"Martha, I can't -"

"See you soon, Evan," she said. "It's going to be a perfect Christmas." She hung up before he could argue anymore.

||_||

~~ Christmas Day, nine weeks ~~

"Need any help?"

Martha turned from stirring the gravy to find Evan at her shoulder. "Can you carve a turkey?"

"Yes."

"I was going to call Clark, but since you're here ..."

Evan leaned against the counter, crossed his arms, and smiled. "Thank you for asking us to come." His smile deepened. "Or should I say *ordering* us to come?"

"Our family seems to be getting along well," she commented, feeling the heat from the gravy leap into her cheeks. "Abi is so cute the way she sits next to Sam and chatters away with sign language."

Evan chuckled. "I told her that Sam can hear fine, but he can't speak. But she still prefers to sign to him."

"And whatever they talk about must be entertaining," Martha said. "It's such a delight to hear young laughter in this house again."

"I was watching them before. She was giving him a blow-by-blow description of The Lion King. I'm pretty sure she's coerced him into a date to watch it together when we get back to Metropolis."

"He's enjoying himself," Martha said. "He's improved so much since I saw him at Thanksgiving. His facial expressions are clearer, and his signing is more confident."

Evan laughed. "Yeah," he said. "Although I think Sam occasionally deliberately gets a sign wrong just so Abi will laugh and correct him."

"I think Abi reminds him of when his daughters were small." She stared into the gently simmering gravy. "Have you had a chance to speak to Clark?"

"Yes. I went out to the barn early this morning when he was there."

"Is everything all right?"

"He told me that if I hurt you, he will come after me. Knowing who he is, I probably should be scared."

He didn't look particularly scared. "What did you say?" Martha asked.

"I told him that I would do everything I could to ensure that no one ever hurt you again."

She stopped stirring the gravy and looked at him. He looked at her. Her heart stopped.

"Martha?" he said.

"Yes, Evan?"

"Is this just about Christmas? Or do you want it to continue?"

"I'm hoping it will continue."

"Here? Or in Metropolis?"

"I think Lois and Clark will go to Metropolis. How would you feel about bringing Abi to Smallville? After Layla has left for college?"

"I don't have anything holding me in Metropolis."

"What about your job?"

"A job is no substitute for having someone to love."

Martha lifted herself onto her toes and leaned closer to him. His head lowered. He hesitated.

"Go on," she said. "Be bold."

He kissed her. It was quick but not hurried. It was chaste but not hollow.

When she backed away, Evan was looking shell-shocked. "I can't believe I just did that," he said.

"I can't believe you waited so long to do it. You arrived yesterday afternoon."

"I -" His protest died. "You should stir," he advised. "'Cause it's gonna be difficult for a brilliant cook like you to come up with an excuse for lumpy gravy."

||_||

Layla looked around the room of smiling people. She had caught snatches of the conversation when she'd focussed on the person who happened to be talking, and both Abi and her dad were in the habit of signing for her whenever they were in a group with non-deaf people.

But she didn't need to understand each individual comment to know that this felt like Christmas. And it felt like family.

There was Clark, the tall, strikingly handsome guy who was so obviously completely smitten with his wife that it was almost enough to make you puke. Except it wasn't. It was beautiful, and it made Layla hope that one day someone would look at her like that.

And Lois, the friendly, vivacious woman who looked as if she had always had an easy life. Even if she had, Layla couldn't begrudge her it. She was way too nice. And she wore her clothes with a lot of style.

And there was Lois's dad, Sam. Layla had never before seen anyone who'd had a stroke. His signing was clumsy and basic, but she had to admire the guy for making the most of what seemed to be a horrible situation.

And lastly, there was Martha. Layla looked from Martha to her dad and back again.

She had her suspicions about her dad's sudden announcement that they were flying to Kansas for Christmas.

The gift giving was just about finished. The pile under the tree had diminished to a flat present that could be a picture book and a present that was probably another video for Abi to add to her humungous collection.

As Layla watched, Lois gave Abi the present. Her little sister tore at the paper and grasped the video case with delight.

Clark stood. He took the last present and offered it to Lois, smiling at her as if he never wanted to look at anything else. She took the present and reached up to kiss him, draping her hand down his cheek in a gesture that was totally innocent but somehow seemed intimate as well.

Lois opened the gift. As she pushed the paper aside, her eyes filled with tears. Layla looked at Clark. He didn't appear perturbed that he had made his wife cry. He bent forward and kissed her hair, lingering there. She grasped his knee. And smiled.

"This is the poem Clark wrote for me," Lois said. She turned the frame around so everyone could see the simply decorated print with words in the centre and tendrils of pink roses climbing the sides.

"You owe me," Clark said as he stared into Lois's eyes. Layla wasn't sure if he'd spoken aloud, or if she had intruded on a private moment.

Lois nodded her agreement and stood up. "Clark wants me to sing for him," she said.

Layla saw everyone applaud. Even Sam - with his one good hand.

Lois began to sing, her eyes fixed on Clark.

Layla shifted her gaze to her father's hands, and she followed the words as he signed.

You know our love was meant to be
The kind of love that lasts forever
And I need you here with me
From tonight until the end of time

You should know, everywhere I go
You're always on my mind,
In my heart
In my soul

You're the meaning in my life
You're the inspiration
You bring feeling to my life
You're the inspiration
Wanna have you near me
I wanna have you hear me sayin'
No one needs you more than I need you

Layla looked from her dad's hands to his face. He wasn't looking at Lois. He was looking at Martha. She wasn't looking at Lois either. She was staring at Dad.

Neither was smiling.

But they both looked happy.

Layla turned to Clark.

He *was* looking at Lois. With that look that said she was his entire world.

Layla's eyes skipped back to her dad. The expression on his face wasn't much different from ...

Her heart jumped.

Her dad was looking at Martha the way Clark was looking at Lois.

Oh, my.

Layla stared at her dad.

He looked happy.

Happier than he had looked since their first few months in Metropolis. He certainly hadn't smiled much after Mom had left. It must have been hard for him, but until now, Layla hadn't realised that her dad had probably been lonely all these years. He never had fully explained why Mom had chosen to leave, but Layla figured there was a good chance she had gone with the man who had come to the house whenever Dad was at work.

That must have hurt Dad a lot.

But now, he looked ... different ... happy.

The song ended, and everyone clapped. Layla joined in as her mind reeled.

Her dad was in love with Martha Kent.

||_||

~~ February 1995, 3 months ~~

"Ms Lois Lane is here to see you."

"Thanks. Send her through." Eric opened his office door and stepped out. "Ms Lane," he said.

"Mr Menzies," she said. "This is my husband, Clark Kent."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Kent." The men shook hands, Lois and Clark walked into the office, and Eric shut the door. "How are you both?" he said, his official manner dropping away.

"We're well," Lois said. She handed him an envelope. "This is my resignation from the agency."

Eric took it. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "We are losing one of our best agents. But I figured it was coming."

"We'd like to talk to you about something else," Lois said.

Eric sat down and faced them. "Would you like something to eat? Drink?"

"No, thank you," Lois said. She sent Clark a look of encouragement.

"We would like to establish a Superman Foundation," Clark said.

"A charity?" Eric said.

"Yes," Clark said. "But we don't know anything about the legalities. Nor can we be involved in its daily running."

"But you will want to ensure it is being run in a manner consistent with Superman's principles and ideals?"

"Yes. Of course."

"What do you envision would be the objectives of the Superman Foundation?"

"To help," Clark said. "Initially to help the people of Metropolis - to give them access to better medical facilities, to assist families under pressure, to help teens who don't have the support of their parents."

"Perhaps trying to lessen the problem of drug abuse?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Clark said. "That would be one part of it. We aren't aware of the specific problems and needs of the people in this city, so we are looking for someone with more knowledge than us to manage the foundation."

"Although we would maintain an active interest," Lois added.

"Are you hoping I will be able to suggest someone suitable?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Clark said, looking relieved. "We have a broad vision for this, but no experience with the detail."

Eric mused for a moment. "I have a suggestion for a possible candidate," he said. "Someone experienced and available. Someone who knows Metropolis well. But there could be a sticking point."

"He or she sounds perfect," Lois said. "What's the sticking point? The salary?"

"No," Eric said. He turned to Clark. "The fact that he once ordered your death."

"You?" Lois gasped. "You would consider managing the Superman Foundation?"

"I would love to do it," Eric said. "But I suspect that my actions in the past might disqualify me."

"But you have a full-time job," Clark said.

"Not for long. My retirement is going to be announced next week."

"Are you serious about this?" Lois asked.

"Absolutely serious," Eric replied. "But I fully understand your misgivings."

Lois glanced to Clark.

"How about I outline an offer?" Eric said. "Then you can go away and think about it?"

"OK," Lois said.

"I would like to work an average of two or three days a week. I want to take my wife away regularly. She is going to try to teach me to ski." He laughed - partly to hide his nervousness at being back in the position of applying for a job. "I have a large office at home, so the Foundation wouldn't need to pay for office space. And I have a handsome retirement fund, so I wouldn't need a salary.

"Should you accept my offer, there would be advantages for you. I know your secret and have sworn to keep it. You can both be involved however you wish without someone else wondering why Lois Lane and Clark Kent have such an interest in the Superman Foundation. I have a substantial network of contacts both in Metropolis and further afield. I am already publicly associated with Superman."

"Why would you want to do it?" Lois asked. "And for no return?"

"Oh, there would be a return," Eric said. "There would be a chance to make up for some of my mistakes. A chance to protect and help someone worthy of my support. A chance to perhaps make a difference in the lives of others - a difference I was never able to make in the life of my son."

"You have a son?" Lois asked with surprise.

"I had a son," Eric said. "He died of a drug overdose."

"I'm sorry," Lois said. "I didn't know."

Eric looked to Clark. "If you decline my offer, I will do everything to find you a suitable person to fill the position."

"Thank you," Clark said.

"Do you have ideas on how the Foundation will be funded?" Eric asked.

"Superman has received hundreds of invitations to attend events," Clark said. "Some of these invitations are from charities, but some are from businesses."

"You are considering charging an appearance fee?"

"We haven't decided," Clark said. "We certainly wouldn't charge the charities. Nor do we want Superman to become a sort of hero-for-hire."

"But many large businesses would be willing to pay a five-figure sum for a short appearance by Superman," Eric said.

"And that money could be used to make a significant difference in the lives of many people," Clark said.

Eric sat up straighter, his mind already humming with the possibilities. "Once the Foundation is established, we could suggest that a donation could be an appropriate gesture from anyone who has benefited from Superman's intervention."

"We could," Clark said cautiously. "But it is never to become expected. When Superman helps, it is freely given."

"I was thinking about the jewellery store theft that Superman stopped last week. The owner of the store might consider a donation to be a fitting way to express his gratitude."

"We will open the Foundation with the million dollars I received as compensation," Clark said.

"The *entire* million dollars?" Eric exclaimed.

"Lois and I have talked about it," Clark said. "We have decided to keep the initial payment of seventy thousand dollars. It seems fair that it be used for things such as my college costs and the upkeep of my parents' farm, which suffered during the time I was away. But we think the million dollars should be used to help as many people as possible."

"Are you sure about this?" Eric asked.

"We're sure," Clark said.

"Do you want me to look around - discreetly, of course - for a suitable manager for the Foundation?"

Lois looked across at Clark.

"No," he said. "If your offer still stands, we think you'd make the ideal manager."

Eric could feel his enthusiasm growing by the moment. He needed a change - this would be perfect. "Get Superman to choose a lawyer he trusts and have a contract drawn up."

"Are you sure about not receiving a salary?" Lois said. "Perhaps you should consider at least an expense account."

"No," Eric said. "I worked hard in this job, and I have been amply remunerated. Now it's time to give something without expectation of payment."

"We could review the situation at any time," Clark offered.

"Thanks." Eric picked up the envelope Lois had given him. "As of next week, my position will be vacant. Would you reconsider your resignation and apply?"

"I ..." Lois said.

"You don't have to decide right away," Eric said. "I realise that now you are married, you wouldn't want to travel to assignments. But this position is based in Metropolis."

"We will be living in Kansas until the fall," Lois said. "Have you considered Scardino for the position?"

"Yes," Eric replied. "I've encouraged him to apply."

"Is he going to?"

"I don't know. Would you consider a part-time position? Perhaps taking half the portfolios - with Scardino taking the other half?"

"Would that work?"

Eric grinned. "It seems Scardino has realised there is more to life than work. He announced his engagement last week."

"Really?" Lois said. "To someone on the job? Anyone I would know?"

"I doubt it. She's a nurse from Philadelphia, I believe." He returned the envelope to his desk. "Is that a 'no' about applying for my job?"

"Now isn't the right time," Lois said.

"If you ever feel the time is right, I will always have contacts within the agency," Eric said.

"Thank you," Lois said as she and her husband stood. "We'll be in touch regarding the Foundation."

"Thank you for this opportunity," Eric said. "I won't let you down."

After they had gone, Eric closed his office door, walked to his desk, and dialled his home number. "Phoebe?" he said when his wife answered. "Would you like to meet me for lunch?"

"Lunch?" she said.

"Yeah. I have some news."

"Good news?" she asked hesitantly.

"Very good news," he said. "Have you booked the ski trip yet?"

||_||

~~ April 1995, six months ~~

"I am so proud of you," Clark said.

Lois smiled, basking in her husband's praise.

"To write a novel," he continued. "To have it accepted for publication. Lois, you are amazing."

"Thank you." She grinned happily. "You helped with the research."

"I *had* to do something." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I could feel the poor guy's frustration radiating from the computer screen."

"What about *her*?" Lois shot back. "She had her share of restless nights thinking about him."

"I sure did enjoy it when you were writing those steamy -"

His sentence stopped abruptly as the waitress came to their table. "What would you like?" she asked, not particularly graciously.

Lois looked at her. "I know you. You're Ruby Rhodes. Don't you work at the Daily Planet?"

The waitress scowled. "I used to," she said. "But then the incompetent board sacked the editor, Preston Carpenter, and brought in some new guy. He wasn't willing to print my stories without ridiculous amounts of verification. So I walked out. Serves him right. I can get a job with any paper I choose."

"Then why are you waiting tables?" Lois asked.

Ruby Rhodes' scowl deepened. "Do you want to order something?" she snapped. "Or discuss my career options?"

"We'll have the salmon salad and the open steak sandwich," Clark said quickly. "And two lattes." He gave her a full-powered smile. "What is the new editor's name?"

"Perry White," she said with evident distaste. "Do you want anything else?"

"No," Clark replied with another dashing smile. "Thank you."

||_||

~~ June 1995, seven and a half months ~~

Evan Shadbolt stood at the front of the little church in Smallville. For about the tenth time, he turned around and looked at the entrance. It was still empty.

As his attention returned to the front, he caught Lois's eye.

"You look so nervous," she mouthed with a wide grin. "Relax. She'll be here."

He nodded, but -

There was movement at the door.

Abi appeared, wearing the outfit Layla had designed and made. Evan thought it looked more suited to a fairy than a flower girl, but Abi was happy, and Martha had said that every wedding needed a fairy, so he had bowed to the females' superior knowledge.

The bride came into sight, walking steadily on Clark's arm, wearing an elegant ivory dress that was the result of a joint effort between Martha and Layla. Evan could only stare and try to keep his jaw from hanging too obviously. The moment had come, but he still couldn't fully believe his good fortune. She met his eyes and smiled, and Evan steeled himself against the swirl of emotions that threatened to tear apart his composure.

Lastly came Layla, wearing another of her designs. She looked so grown up that Evan couldn't help wondering how the years had slipped away so quickly.

Abi drew level with him and shot him a grin that was simply adorable, made more so by two missing teeth. She stepped to the side, and Clark brought Martha to him.

Evan looked directly at Clark. "Thank you," he said, his words carrying a depth of meaning that the younger man would understand. "Thank you."

Clark took Martha's hand from the crook of his arm and gave it to Evan. "Love her always," he murmured.

"I will," Evan promised.

Clark went to his seat next to Lois, and the wedding ceremony began.

||_||

~~ August 1995, ten months ~~

Lois waited - with simmering impatience - on the sidewalk of the busy Metropolis street.

It had been nearly an hour, and she was willing to admit that if she'd possessed Clark's powers, she would have either looked or listened by now.

But she was just going to have to wait.

Then she saw him, and her heart leapt.

He looked sensationally good.

She loved his jeans-and-sweater look around the farm, but Clark Kent in a suit and tie was another matter altogether. The women were going to have a field day. But they could only look. Lois - well, she knew exactly the quality of what was concealed under those black suit pants and crisp jacket.

She dragged her eyes from his body and looked into his face.

He was smiling.

Unable to wait for him to exit the building, she rushed through the rotating door and charged over to him. "Well?" she said, hopping excitedly. "Well?"

"Well," he said, his eyes shining. "You're looking at the Daily Planet's newest rookie reporter."

Lois squealed, unconcerned if the whole of Metropolis was watching her. She hugged her husband and planted an ecstatic kiss on his mouth. "Congratulations," she said. "You rock."

"Thanks," Clark said, still looking a little dazed. "Mr White said that although I lacked experience, he could see potential in the samples of my work, and he was willing to give me a probationary period of three months."

"You'll be on the permanent staff before the first month is over," Lois predicted.

"I hope so," Clark said. "Want to go somewhere and celebrate?"

"Sure," Lois said. "Dad's place? Our new bed hasn't been delivered yet, but we don't actually need a bed to ..."

He laughed. "I wasn't thinking of that sort of celebration."

"You weren't?" she said, pretending to be aghast. "Oh no, the honeymoon is over."

"Believe me, it isn't over," Clark said with a wink. "But there is something else I'd like to do. And I'd like to do it with you." He took her hand and led her out of the Daily Planet building. "We're going to live in Metropolis," he said. "And I'm going to work here, so ..."

"So?"

"So I'd like to go back. I'd like to face it again. Now. With you."

"To the warehouse?"

"Yes."

Lois whistled for a cab. "Bessolo Boulevard," she said to the driver.

||_||

Fifteen minutes later, Clark stood on the sidewalk, looking at the old warehouse.

"The compound was behind the warehouse," Lois said as she tightly gripped Clark's hand. "Eric ordered that it be demolished."

There was nothing left now - nothing to mark the place that had held him captive for seven long years.

"Are you all right?" Lois said, moving closer to him. "Do you feel anything?"

"Yeah," Clark said. "I feel a whole lot."

She released his hand, slipped her arm around his back, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I feel ... blessed," Clark said.

"Blessed?"

"Full of so many blessings. I was despised; now I am accepted. I was hated; now I am loved. I was different; now that doesn't matter. I was caged; now I am free. I was alone; now I have the most beautiful woman in the world as my wife. I had lost everything, including the capacity to hope, but now my dreams have become reality."

"I am blessed, too," Lois said. "Because I have you."

Clark took her into his arms and kissed her. "Lois," he said. "Everything - every one of those blessings - is because of you. Because of your courage and your spirit and your love. Because you were willing to believe in someone so different."

Lois shook her head. "No," she said. "It's because I realised that it's your heart that makes you who you are. And that is your true strength. Because of your heart, you never lost sight of what is right. Because of your heart, you could still trust, despite everything you had suffered."

"That's because you trusted me first," Clark said. "You walked into my cell without a rod. You helped me escape. You supported me through those first few days in the outside world. You were my guide in the days when I couldn't remember. You just kept on loving me until every single barrier to true freedom had been dissolved. Through every step, you were always there, being exactly what I needed."

"You were everything I needed, too," she said. "The first time I came here, I was so crushed with hatred, so broken by anger. You started dissolving my barriers before I had even walked into the cell - simply by being you."

Clark gazed down at her for a long moment, wishing he had words to convey the richness in his heart. "You once told me that Clark is your hero," he said.

"He is," she said as she ran her fingers lovingly across his cheek.

"Lois Lane is my hero," he said. "And I will love her forever."

"I love you," his hero replied. "And you will never be alone again."


The End.


The song quoted is 'You're the Inspiration', written by Peter Cetera and David Foster for Chicago, released in 1984.