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Nightfall Honeymoon TOC

To read Part 19G

Part 20

Sunday – Late Afternoon

Clark watched as Lois opened the front door to the apartment and left it open as she carried a bowl of marinated chicken pieces out to the grill. He took one last x-ray glance around the whole courtyard. Clear.

Using his super speed, he blasted himself out of the apartment and into the sky. He zipped down to Langosta to see if he could find his old dark-framed glasses on the beach.

Between Nunk and a poolful of kids, he had been trapped inside all day. Lois had accused him of being paranoid. Actually, she had said “chicken,” but then claimed to be talking about dinner.

Maybe he was. She was right; he could have just put on a baseball cap and averted his face until he reached that alley two blocks away. But what if there had been a tabloid photographer outside the front door of the building who got a shot of him without his glasses? His new life with Lois was too important to risk it.

Clark hadn’t realized how dependent he had become on those frames since becoming Superman. Since before then in fact. He sighed.

Superman landed on the beach, happy that it was still as deserted as it had been the previous night. It looked completely different in the light of day. He almost couldn’t believe he and Lois had made love on the sand.

It was almost laughable. He would take risks to make love with his wife, but he wouldn’t take any about being seen without his glasses. Only, he wasn’t laughing. It had been twice now he had been caught without his “disguise.” He was glad his wife had thought enough ahead to convince him to get a new pair while they were in Niagara.

Clark took one look and then another, trying to remember where on the beach they had been when Lois had pulled off his shirt. Over by the big rocks. He x-rayed the area and finally found the glasses, half-buried in the wet sand. One of the lenses broken. Terrific. He only hoped Lucy hadn’t forgotten to bring his new pair.

Superman picked up the glasses and took off into the air. The frames still looked okay. If he just replaced the lenses, these could work as his backup pair. He was thinking that if he made it through a whole pay cycle at the Daily Planet, he would treat himself to several more backups. If they had any funds left after paying the first and last month’s rent, plus a security deposit, on a new apartment.

He hovered above the courtyard and with a smile watched as his wife fumbled about trying to light the charcoal barbeque by the pool.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked, landing softly behind her.

Lois jumped, spilling her box of matches.

“Thank you, Superman,” she replied.

To Lucy and Jimmy – sitting nearby – her remark might have seemed sincere. But Clark caught her hint of sarcasm.

Lois stepped away from the grill and started to pick up the fallen matches.

Superman rearranged the charcoal to the correct position and had it started two seconds later. Thank you, heat vision.

His wife glanced up from where she was on her hands and knees picking up matchsticks. “Did you just stop by to rescue a damsel in distress, Superman, or did you come for chicken?”

“I understand Clark had some follow-up questions about Nightfall,” Superman explained, sticking to the script he and Lois had come up with for this farce in front of her sister and their friend. It was true, he did have more questions about Nightfall. Unfortunately, he still didn’t have any answers.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Superman, Clark stepped out to pick up the fixings for s’mores. He should be back soon.” Lois picked up the last match and stuck it back in the box. “You’re welcome to wait.” She stood up. “You’ve met Jimmy, of course.”

Superman nodded at him. And Jimmy grinned at being remembered.

“And this is my sister Lucy,” Lois said, indicating the slack-jawed brunette standing next to Jimmy. He remembered her well from their lunch in the park the other day.

“Nice to meet you,” replied Superman with another nod. He avoided shaking hands as Superman whenever possible.

“So, you took Lois on a date to Costa Rica, huh?” said Lucy, her awe suddenly disappearing. “She must have been putty in your hands.”

Superman tried hard not to change his facial expression, but he couldn’t avoid the discomfort flashing across his face. How could Lois have told her sister about last night?

“It wasn’t a date,” Lois jumped in, correcting her sister. “It was an interview.”

Oh, right. The first time they had gone to the beach. “I don’t date,” was all Superman could think to say. “I don’t want to make any woman a target for criminals.” So, he married her instead.

“Pity,” mumbled Lucy.

Jimmy shot his possible girlfriend a disturbed look. “And you wouldn’t do that to CK,” he defended Superman, even though Clark heard a hint of uncertainty to his friend’s tone.

“Clark knew where we were the entire time,” Lois told him.

“I’m sure Lois would prefer an hour on the beach with her husband to an hour with me,” Superman said innocently.

Lois started coughing on her sip of lemonade just the same. When she got herself under control, his wife avoided his eye and said, “That sounds nice. Maybe for our first anniversary, Perry will give Clark and me a few days off for a trip south.”

Oooh. A whole weekend at the beach with Lois. Superman raised a hand to his mouth to cover his smile.

“Oh, Lois! Clark’s glasses!” Lucy remembered out of the blue before taking them from of her purse and handing them to Lois. “Gosh, I hope he doesn’t have any trouble driving without his glasses.”

“He has his old pair,” Lois explained with a glance at Superman. “But they were giving him headaches.”

His wife more like it, thought Clark. She never liked the black frames. Or, maybe she meant that losing them was causing him headaches. That was certainly true. “Clark isn't near-sighted, so I’m sure I won’t be cleaning up any extra traffic accidents. But I can take those over to him at the store, if it would make you feel better,” Superman suggested and, on cue, Lois handed him the glasses.

Just having a usable disguise in his hand again untied the knot in his stomach he had been fighting all day. As he was about to take to the air he heard the sound of a fire alarm.

“Jimmy, do you have your camera with you?” Superman inquired, hovering above the courtyard.

“Right here,” Jimmy said, pulling up his camera bag from beside his chair. “I almost forgot. I should get those action shots you promised me. Thanks, Superman. Perry would can me if I missed the opportunity twice.”

“I’m heading to a fire, would you like a lift?”

“Would I ever!” gushed Jimmy as Superman swooped him up in the cradle-hold he used for Lois.

They hadn’t been gone from the courtyard but a few seconds when Jimmy spoke up. “Do you always carry people like this, Superman?”

“Usually, Jimmy. Why?” the man in blue responded.

“Even Clark?” Jimmy tentatively probed, the discomfort in his voice shining through.

“Would you rather I didn’t carry you like this?” Superman set Jimmy down half a block from the smoking building. Clark could understand Jimmy’s point. He probably wouldn’t want to be carried in this manner by another man either. Next time, he would use the hold he used for his father, in which he stood behind and to the side of him and held onto him across the chest.

“Never mind. It’s not important,” Jimmy stated, wiping the issue from the sky. He pulled his camera out and jogged towards the fire as Superman disappeared in front of him in a blur.

Superman rescued the five people from inside the burning building and then went to stand outside with the crowd. He didn’t want the fire department to feel like he was usurping their duties. He had told the Fire Chief that when he had officially helped at his first fire. He would do search and rescue and only help with putting out fires when it became too dangerous for regular firefighters or when asked. That way the firefighters could concentrate on the fires without being distracted by searching for possible victims.

A blonde woman pushed through the crowd and came to a stop next to him as they watched the firefighters working. She slid her hand over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. “For old time’s sake.”

Superman took a step away from her, removing her hand from his chest. “There were no old times, Ms. King.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Linda said with a giggle.

“I would appreciate it if you would please refrain from taking such liberties with me, Ms. King. I am not interested in you in that way,” he told her in no uncertain terms.

Linda pressed her lips together. “Patched things up with the Missus then, Charlie?”

He raised a brow, but was interrupted from responding by a hysterical woman who approached him. “Superman! Please! Fluffy! Fluffy is still inside. Please, Superman. Please!”

He nodded to her and jogged back into the building.

Superman could hear Linda outside as he searched for the missing pet. The reporter had gasped and then started screaming, “Charlie! No! That’s a burning building! You’ll be killed. You stupid numbskull! You’re not Superman!”

He found the missing puffy white miniature poodle “Fluffy” scratching on a door to an apartment and set the dog outside, where he watched it run to its owner. He hovered above the apartment house and observed Linda with interest from within the smoke.

“See, your dog was outside the whole time! And now… Charlie…” Linda yelled at the dog’s owner. “Oh, God, Charlie!”

The reporter, who had humiliated his wife, was quickly becoming a frantic mess. If he was ever was allowed to mention Linda King’s name in his wife’s presence, he hoped it would be during another debate about everyone having a little good inside them. Even Linda had a soft spot for the poor, delusional Charlie King. But it was probably best not to mention Charlie’s friendship with the Metropolis Star reporter to his wife.

Linda ran to a fireman and grabbed his arm. “Superman ran into the building. He’s going to be killed. You must save him!”

Clark chuckled. He watched as the fireman shrugged Linda off his arm and looked at the reporter with concern. “Superman can handle himself, Miss,” the fireman told her.

“But he thinks he’s invulnerable,” she wailed at him.

“Ms. King,” said Jimmy from beside her, where he had been talking to witness. “Superman is invulnerable.”

“But that wasn’t Superman, you stupid pup. Superman’s dead. That was an impersonator who thinks he’s Superman,” Linda shrieked at the photographer.

Clark decided he better intercede before Linda told Jimmy about the amnesiac Superman she met a few days previously. He landed nearby and jogged up, dressed as Clark Kent. “Hi, Jimmy. Superman said he brought you here. Did you get a shot of him flying up through the smoke?”

“Hey, CK. No, I missed that shot. That sounds cool though,” replied Jimmy.

Linda King stood stiffly next to them her eyes large with shell shock. “That couldn’t… it wasn’t Superman,” she stammered.

“It was,” Jimmy informed her, lifting up his camera. “And the Daily Planet has the photos to prove it.”

“But that couldn’t be…” Linda argued. “The real Superman wouldn’t…”

Clark resisted smiling as he watched Linda realize that it was the real Superman – not the married Superman impersonator – who had rebuffed her advances. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet,” he said, holding out his hand. “I understand you went to college with Lois.”

Linda’s jaw fell open, ignoring his hand. “No way! You’re Lois’s boyfriend? You? And the Ice Queen? Never!”

“Thank you, I think.” He smiled sheepishly. “And I would appreciate it if you would not speak about my wife in that manner, Ms. King.” He turned away from her and back to Jimmy.

Before he could suggest to his friend that they head back to the barbeque, Linda started ranting again. “Wife! You married Lois Lane? Are you nuts? The woman is a deadly killer! She murdered her first boyfriend!”

Jimmy’s looked at Linda with concern.

“Stop throwing around false accusations about my wife, Ms. King.” Clark gazed at the blonde reporter intensely and then his expression softened to pity with a shake of his head. “Come on, Jimmy. I’ve got everything I need here.”

“Me, too,” agreed Jimmy and they walked off.

Linda continued to yell at them.

“What’s the matter with her?” murmured Jimmy. “She’s psycho. No wonder Lois hates her so much.”

“Probably best not to mention this to Lois,” said Clark. His wife would not be happy to hear of him bumping into her old foe. Especially with his lips. Again.

Jimmy nodded in agreement.

“Wait here. I’ll run and get the car,” suggested Clark, jogging off as he realized that the Jeep Cherokee was back at the apartment.

“No need, CK. I’ll walk with you,” shouted Jimmy, but the man was already gone.

***

“Chicken’s ready!” Lois announced as Jimmy walked in.

“My, Lois,” Jimmy said, looking at the charblack pieces of meat being removed from the grill by Clark’s wife. “Blackened chicken. Yum.” His words didn’t seem to match his tone.

Lois shot him a glare. “The skin burned because of the sauce. It happens. Did you get any good photos of Superman?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answered. “I ran into CK. He gave me a lift back and then remembered he forgot to pick up chocolate bars for the s’mores and went back out.”

Lois handed Jimmy and Lucy each a plate with black chicken and a scoop of pasta salad. Out of the corner of her eye Lois caught her sister grimace at Jimmy.

Jimmy smiled weakly at Lucy and broadened the smile when he turned to Lois.

Wow Jimbo! That’s some great fake smile he has there.

“You know, Lois, thanks a lot for the …” He cleared his throat. “… food, but I should really get these negatives back to the newsroom and develop them. Scoop the Met Star for the morning edition.” He set his untouched plate down on the table.

Lois watched as Lucy gratefully followed suit. “That’s so true!” she agreed with him too enthusiastically.

“You don’t need to go,” Lois suggested to her sister. “Since Jimmy’s going to be working…”

Did your sister actually just blanch at the idea of staying?

“He’s my ride,” Lucy said, picking up her purse and backing away from Lois and the charbroiled food. “Anyway, I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Lois pressed her lips together.

Your sister never let that stop her before.

“I’ll get you some paper plates and you can take it to go!” Lois said, running into her apartment. By the time she returned to the courtyard, her dinner guests had mysteriously vanished. “Humph!”

A tall, thin grey-haired man turned the corner of the courtyard. “Lois! There you are! You gave me the slip earlier, but I knew you’d have to return home sometime.”

The biggest non-sex-with-her-husband-induced grin that ever graced Lois’s face now appeared.

***

Clark arrived back at the courtyard from parking garage with a bag of groceries just as Lucy and Jimmy were beating a hasty retreat. “Are you guys leaving already?”

Lucy gazed at him sadly and sighed. “It’s been really nice having you as my brother-in-law, Clark. A real adventure.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Had he done something to upset Lois? Although, for the life of him, he couldn’t think what. Nor could he hear her swearing up a storm.

Jimmy patted Clark’s arm and shook his head. “Have you been immunized against Typhoid?”

Clark still had no idea to what Jimmy was referring.

Lucy giggled. “Good one. Pizza?”

“Definitely!” Jimmy chorused. “Sorry, CK, we’d love to invite you to join us…”

“I don’t need pizza. Lois made dinner,” he explained the obvious.

Jimmy sighed. “If you say so, CK. I recommend you plead the need to go into the Daily Planet to write up the Superman story instead.” He lowered his voice with a glance back towards the courtyard. “I did.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “You lied to Lois?”

“It’s not quite a lie, CK. I do have to develop those photos…”

Yet for some reason Clark heard an unspoken “but” at end of Jimmy’s statement.

Lucy and Jimmy each shot him another big grin.

What in the world was going on with them?

“If you want to survive into tomorrow, I recommend you do the same,” Lucy told him. “Perhaps you could convince your parents to invite you two to dinner?”

They were backing towards the exit now.

“Lois made dinner!” he repeated, exasperated. “Come on! It can’t be that bad.”

Lucy and Jimmy exchanged a look that Clark didn’t need to be telepathic to understand.

Jimmy shook his head. “We’re sorry to abandon you, CK, but… well… we’re not married to her. We don’t have to eat her food.”

Clark pressed his lips together as his so-called friend and sister-in-law left in a cloud of giggles.

“Fine!” he called to them. “More s’mores for us!”

Clark turned back towards the courtyard and literally bumped into a quickly departing Leo Nunk, who was mumbling, “No story is worth this!” He glanced up at Clark and shook his head. “Any last words?”

Not him too! Lois’s husband rolled his eyes and pushed past the man.

“Hey, it’s your own funeral, Kent!” called Nunk as he left.

Lois was sitting by the grill, her arms crossed, her lips pressed together, and her thoughts a million miles away.

Clark leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Clark,” Lois responded morosely. Then her tone became chipper. “Good news! I discovered a way to get rid of unwanted pests!”

Clark raised a brow, unpacking the s’more fixings from the bag. “Pests?”

“Never mind. Dinner’s ready!” she announced, handing him one of the plates from the table and a handful of silverware.

“Great! I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He smiled at her and she basked in the glow of his words. Then he looked down at the plate. It took all his super strength to keep his lips turned up. Sitting on his plate was an unknown cut of chicken – reportedly – blackened beyond recognition and yet, at the same time, still gelatinous. “Wow! Lois. This looks…” He couldn’t think of a single positive sounding word. Why, oh why had Superman chosen truth as part of his credo?

“Awful? Gut-wrenching? Or perhaps just a simple ‘burnt’?” Lois suggested.

“I was leaning closer to interesting. I’ve never seen chicken quite like this before,” he told his wife honestly.

“Really?”

Wow, Lois must be grasping for straws if she actually took that as a compliment. She had warned him that she hadn’t born with the cooking gene. Okay, Kent, you’ve got to eat this. As her husband you can’t be the last nail in this coffin. A burial! Yes, that was exactly what this meal needed, Clark told himself.

He gazed at his wife lovingly and looked back down at the plate in his hand. He tilted down his glasses and x-rayed his food. Yep, still raw on the inside. Quickly, he heat zapped both of their plates so the food at least it wouldn’t be bloody or even pink.

“The pasta salad looks delicious,” he said as Lois sat down after bringing him a glass of lemonade.

Lois glanced at him and winked. “Perhaps we should save it for last.”

He winked back, picking up his chicken. “We’ve got s’mores for dessert.”

“Ooooh. Chocolate.” His wife grinned and then it faltered, as she watched his chicken go up to his lips.

Clark did a silent prayer thanking God for his invulnerability and took a bite. “Not bad.” Bad was too nice a word for how this chicken tasted. Horrible was a more accurate description. Horrendous and nauseating would work as well.

Lois glowed in his ‘praise’ and actually brought her own chicken up to her own lips. A second later she was spitting it back onto her plate. “Not bad?” she growled at him. “How in the world is this not the worst chicken ever cooked?”

“Well, technically…” Clark’s voice faded as he stopped himself from telling her that he had actually finished the cooking of the chicken with his heat vision.

“Have you ever had worse chicken?” Lois crossed her arms.

Clark thought about that, searching his memory for a nastier meal and coming up short. “No, but I might not have all my memories back yet,” he answered hopefully.

Lois slapped his arm and then started laughing. “Try the pasta salad. It’s edible. I’ve made it before.”

He took a bite and his taste buds danced for joy. He didn’t know if it was because the pasta salad was actually good or if it was just that, in comparison to the chicken, anything would taste good. “Tasty!”

His wife kissed his lips. “No tiptoeing around that word.”

“I…” Well, okay, he had to admit he had tiptoed around the truth when describing the chicken. “… love you.”

She smiled and grabbed the chicken off his plate, dumping it onto a third uneaten plate of food, which she carried to the trash. “Of course, you do, Clark.” She returned and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, kissing his cheek. “Everyone else bolted. You remained to face the wrath of Lois.” She added an eerie waver to her voice as she described her anger. “I don’t know why everyone else thought that I’d get mad because they didn’t like my chicken.”

Clark didn’t think it had anything to do with her anger, but more they wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the chicken. He refrained from saying so. He had learned a thing or two since meeting Lois Lane… actually, being with Lois had been the best crash course on women he could ever take. And he had finally found something worse tasting than his feet to stick in his mouth.

***

Monday Morning

Lois handed Clark her coffee as they stepped into the elevator at the Daily Planet. Then she used both hands to straighten his tie. It was a crazy tie. Creative. Wacky. Colorful. Unique.

Just like your husband.

She wouldn’t change it, if he let her. He looked good in a suit.

“Nervous?” Lois whispered, kissing his lips lightly. Clark tasted a bit like the cake donut he was eating. They had gotten a late start and had grabbed breakfast on the go.

Well, it hadn’t been me who had suggested an early morning romp through the tulips.

“No. I can do this. If I can save the world, I can piece together a couple of words to create a readable story,” he replied, returning her kiss.

Oh, wait. Maybe it was me. Sorry.

Lois licked the powdered sugar off his lips and let her briefcase strap slide off her shoulder to the floor of the elevator. “I liked your final take on the Nightfall story. I just hope Perry won’t kill us for not turning it in sooner.”

Actually, it was definitely me. And I’m not sorry. Not sorry in the least.

“I did lose my memory for a couple of days,” he reminded Lois, leaning her against the wall of the elevator and kissing down her neck. “He can’t fault me for that, can he?”

Perry can do whatever he damn well pleases. He’s your boss. Now, is this what you two want to be doing during what could well be the last minute of privacy you get until you go home this evening?

Lois moaned and ran her fingers through Clark’s hair. Suddenly, his hands were empty and she was being thoroughly kissed as he lifted her against the side of the elevator. Her legs wrapped around him and she could feel him pressed against her. It was as if time were standing still as she felt him explore every inch of her body. The parts that were covered with clothing were caressed by his hands. The parts that weren’t, by his tongue.

The parts above the waist, you mean, Lois. It’s not like Clark licked your legs in the elevator.

His hands glided up her legs, under her skirt, and up…

Up… up… and away…

Clark’s mouth came back to hers as the elevator finally chimed that they had reached the correct floor. Lois felt her feet return to the ground as a whirlwind straightened her clothing and hair, hung her briefcase back on her shoulder, and placed another light kiss on her lips.

Lois smiled at Clark and straightened his tie again. He held up her coffee cup, which now had what remained of his donut resting on top. The doors to the elevator opened and their first full day as reporters for the Daily Planet began.

*** End of Part 20 ***

If you want to check out Lois & Clark’s first morning at the Daily Planet, check out the Green-Eyed Monster – Epilogue[/i] .

The Epilogue for [i]Nightfall Honeymoon will post on New Year’s Day 2012.

Comments

Disclaimer: I do not own these wonderful, sexy, and funny characters. I borrowed them from Jerry Siegel & Joe Shuster as they were portrayed on the Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman television series developed by Deborah Joy LeVine. I do not own Lois’s inner voice, whom I’ve nick-named IVY, Nymph of Mischief; I borrowed Lynn S.M.’s muse from With Apologies to Female Hawk and she just won’t leave. (I mean, would you if you knew you could go on a honeymoon with Lois and Clark and could see and feel everything?) I borrow many lines of dialogue and many plot points from Bryce Zabel’s beautifully written and very entertaining episode: “All Shook Up” from the above-referenced television show. I do not claim to own them, but I have taken them and put them into a blender and come up with my own concoction. I would like to thank all the above-referenced writers, including Tony Blake and Paul Jackson whom I quote directly, for their inspiration. I also borrowed a theme or two from Larry Niven's article Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex . Jedi Knights, Han Solo, Chewbacca, C-3PO, and Princess Leia are all borrowed from George Lucas's Star Wars movies. Princess Leia's gold bikini is from Return of the Jedi, a movie written by George Lucas and Lawrence Kasdan.