Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Once Bitten (25/?)

"Gislane and I think spending all day with someone that handsome should give you lots of ideas for the story. George should kiss Nelda. He has waited too much."

"Perhaps he will," Lois said, trying to sound nonchalant, although she always got a buzz when either of her listeners spoke of her characters as if they knew them personally. She fixed the bandage in place. "How's Rolle?"

"I think she very close. Perhaps only few days to go."

"Is the baby still moving?"

"Not so much. But it's squashed. The heartbeat still strong."

"Any swelling? Ankles? Fingers?"

"A little. Nothing of worry."

"I'm going to visit her for a few minutes," Lois said. "I want to feel the baby and reassure Rolle that everything is going well. Then I'll come back and have a cup of tea with you."

Sylva picked up her sewing. "And read more story?" she asked hopefully.

"Just a few more scenes."

"Oh, good," Sylva said eagerly. "I will call for Gislane."


Part 25

Clark turned over, annoyed at his inability to find a comfortable position, annoyed at sleep's refusal to subdue his restless mind, and annoyed that every new sound made his heart quicken in anticipation of Lois's return.

Mostly, he was annoyed at being Clark Kent.

Just hours after resolving to make a clean break from everything in the past, he had been sucked back into its clutches without so much as a whimper of protest.

He'd been given the chance to declare his feelings for Lois. He could have stood before the chief of the Bangala and boldly proclaimed that he loved Lois and he wanted to be with her forever.

But, he'd crumbled.

All his life, awareness of his alienation had fuelled his propensity to run away. He had never stayed longer than a few months in any of the foster homes. After leaving school, he had drifted across the world, never putting down roots deep enough to hold firm once he sensed people were becoming suspicious of him. With Lana beside him, he had forced himself to settle in Metropolis. When she had abandoned him, the instinct to flee had been irresistible.

Matymbou had asked hard questions, and Clark had run away again.

As he'd bolted to the quarantine area, besieged by self-disgust, he'd clung to the obvious and easy excuse.

Time. Too little time.

It wasn't an excuse entirely without justification.

It had been little more than a week since he'd been Clark Kent, faithful and loving husband of Lana Lang-Kent and proud father-to-be of a child he'd already cherished.

A week. He couldn't change who he was in a week.

He'd been playing ball with Diddi when he'd heard Lois calling him. He'd gone to her and offered his explanation. She'd accepted it, as he'd known she would, but it hadn't dimmed the uncomfortable truth that time moved on, never affording anyone the luxury of a permanent excuse.

The passing of just a few days had blunted the sting of Lana's betrayal and confirmed the - largely unwelcome - knowledge that his life wasn't over and his heart still yearned for love.

His cowardice when facing Matymbou had grown out of the galling, immutable reality that he was an alien.

He couldn't formalise his love for Lois when she didn't know the most fundamental thing about him.

Sure, he no longer had the weird abilities.

But that didn't make him human. That didn't give him the right to take a human woman as his wife, to declare his love for her and to make promises about the future when he had no paradigm for how that future might eventuate.

Lana had known the truth.

She had known it was impossible to forecast his lifespan. She'd known he was walking the uncharted path of a Kryptonian living on a foreign planet. She'd known his ability to father a child was, at best, unproven. She'd known the threat of discovery clouded their lives with fear and uncertainty.

Lois knew nothing.

Clark could pretend to be an American trying to fit into Bangala society.

But it wasn't fair to Lois to pretend he could be the husband she needed … expected … deserved.

Clark rolled over again, snatching at the covers in exasperation as they slipped from his shoulder.

He couldn't marry Lois without telling her the truth.

But if he told her the truth, her feelings for him would deteriorate to suspicion, tainted with pity.

No human woman could love an alien. Lana had proven that.

If he revealed the truth, Matymbou might evict him from the Bangala.

They had accepted a white woman from a far country.

He was a white man from a far planet.

"You all right, Kent?"

"Diddi. Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'all right. Where's Maman?"

"She's gone to check on Rolle."

"Is Rolle going to have her baby now?"

"I don't think so. I think your maman just wanted to make sure she's OK."

Diddi grunted, already slipping back to his dreams.

Clark forced his eyes to close and commanded his body to relax.

But he didn't have the power to shut down his ever-churning mind.

~|^|~

Rolle was resting in her hut with her husband, Kito. Lois felt Rolle's abdomen, sliding her hands over its hard swollenness to ascertain the baby's position.

"The head is down," Lois said, speaking Bangala. "That's good." She took Rolle's hand and guided it over the right portion of her abdomen. "Feel that? That's the back. The legs are curled up in front of the baby. You probably feel a lot of short sharp movements on your left side from the feet."

Rolle nodded, moving her hand over the apex and to the left slope. "Sometimes, I see small bumps over here."

"That's just the baby stretching," Lois said. "It's getting squashed in there." She placed her ear against Rolle's stomach and listened to the muted whir of the baby's heartbeat.

"Is everything good?" Kito asked.

"Everything seems fine," Lois said, straightening and giving the expectant father a smile. "Have you been feeling tired, Rolle?"

Rolle pulled her shirt over her abdomen. "A bit."

"It's important that you rest. Come and lie down in the hut during the afternoon."

"How much longer to wait?" Kito asked, taking Rolle's hand in his.

"A few days, I think," Lois said, checking Rolle's feet and ankles for swelling.

"Is the quarantine time over?" Rolle asked.

"Matymbou has said I can come into the village," Lois said. "There's no danger of disease from the visitor. Romaric will come and get me if you need me."

"I'm glad," Kito said. The young couple gave her uneasy smiles, and Lois wished she could assure them that both mother and baby would survive the birth. However, she knew - as they did - that if something went wrong, they would be hopelessly ill-equipped to provide the needed medical intervention.

"Rolle is young and healthy," Lois said, addressing Kito. "She has done everything to look after herself and the little one."

They nodded, but the fear didn't diminish. Giving them a parting smile, Lois slipped away.

When she arrived back at Sylva's hut, Gislane was there, preparing a low table with three cups of tea and a plate of chunky carob cookies.

Lois hugged Gislane and then dropped onto the vacant cushion.

"I glad you're back," Gislane said, in her heavily accented English. "We missed you."

"Me?" Lois asked with a grin. "Or the story?"

"You, of course," Sylva said with twinkling eyes. "But we want to hear what is happening with George and Nelda, too."

"I think he should speak how he feels," Gislane said.

"He's scared of what she will say," Sylva said, taking a cookie and dipping it into her tea.

"What is to be scared of?" Gislane said. "Both are not married. It is better to know the truth, even if the truth makes pain."

"There's Accassi," Sylva pointed out. "Nelda doesn't know if George likes Accassi."

Lois nibbled on a cookie.

"That's why George must speak," Gislane insisted. "So everyone is knowing, and they can get on with the good stuff."

Lois raised her eyebrow, but said nothing.

Sylva chuckled. "Don't look at us like that, Lois. I think you like writing the kiss scenes as much as we like listening to them."

Lois took a slurp from her tea, denying nothing.

"Open up the book," Sylva said. "We want to know what happens next."

Lois put down her cup and picked up the book. "I don't have much," she warned.

"I guess you be busy with the large mondele," Gislane said.

Lois flicked through the pages. "OK … The last thing to happen was that Nelda saw George talking to Accassi. She heard a few words, which was enough to make her think they were planning to have a meal together."

"I think Accassi wants to eat with that man she met near the river," Gislane said. "I think that's why she talked to George about a good place to have food."

Lois took a breath and began reading.

~|^|~

"'I love you, Nelda,' George said, boldly lifting his hand to trace the sleek outline of Nelda's cheek. 'I want to be with you forever.'

"'Aww, George,' Nelda whispered. 'I love you, too.'"

Lois stopped reading and looked up at her audience of two.

Sylva was wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Gislane had a faraway smile. "Perfect," she said. "I love a happy ending."

"That's not the end," Sylva protested. "They haven't kissed yet."

"It's not the end," Lois said. "That's just where I stopped writing." Although, her mind had continued on, imagining the kiss. Her cheeks warmed with the memory.

"Why did you stop there?" Sylva asked. "Couldn't you have given them one kiss?"

"It seemed a good place to end the scene," Lois said, trying not to sound defensive.

"I think you got distracted," Sylva said.

"I can't write all the time," Lois said. "I have to look after Diddi and teach him his letters and -"

"And the mondele is pretty enough to distract anyone," Sylva said.

Lois spluttered and tried to hide it with a cough.

"Tell us more about the mondele," Sylva said. "What's his name?"

Apparently, George and Nelda had been quickly forgotten. "Kent."

"Kent." The two women repeated the new word.

"He's got a great body and a very fine face," Sylva said. "If I were younger, I welcome him into my hut."

"Sylva," Lois said with mild reproof. "He's a guest who was badly injured. He needed my help."

"Are you saying you didn't enjoy treating him?" Sylva asked. "Those hard muscles, those wide shoulders, that -"

"I'm married to Matymbou."

Gislane stood from the cushion. "I think I heard Zephyrin," she said, quickly hurrying from the hut.

"Is Gislane all right?" Lois asked after the other woman had gone. "She seemed a bit quiet."

"She's OK," Sylva said lightly.

"Did she say anything while you were waiting for me to return from Rolle's hut?"

"No."

"Did you ask? Perhaps she's been working too hard. Perhaps -"

"What's wrong?" Sylva asked.

"With Gislane?"

"No. With you."

"I'm fine."

"You are pretending to be fine. I can see your eyes are sad."

Lois shuffled through a range of explanations and rejected each one.

"Is it the mondele?" Sylva asked.

"We had a wonderful day, today," Lois said. "We went to the miracle berries. We went to the swimming hole. Diddi loves being with Kent."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I was impatient. I tried to push him before he was ready."

"I heard he was very bad when you found him. Diddi said he was green."

"He wasn't green. He had some sort of green rock embedded in his body."

"Green rock?"

"At first, I thought they were skin eruptions - as if he'd been poisoned. But when I got closer to him, I realised he had hundreds of pieces of the stuff buried in his body."

"Did you know the green rock?"

"No. I'd never seen anything like it before."

"What did you do with it?" Sylva asked. "Can I see it?"

"I threw it into the river."

"Why?"

"Because it seemed to distress him."

"How did you get it out his body?"

"With my knife."

Sylva winced. "Was he awake?"

"Not at first. He woke up after I'd finished his back. He was conscious while I was doing his front."

"He had it on his back and front?"

Lois nodded. "Strange, hey? I figure he was in some sort of explosion in an enclosed space."

"Did he say how it got into him?"

"No. He doesn't want to talk about it."

Sylva shot Lois a long, loaded look. "When he came into the village today, there were no wounds on his back. No scarring. Nothing I could see."

"He healed more quickly than I would have believed possible," Lois said.

"Could the green stuff have included an antibiotic agent?" Sylva mused. "I wish you'd kept some of it. Perhaps it has medicinal qualities."

"No," Lois said, shaking her head. "It was bad stuff."

"You say the mondele improved quickly once you took it from his body?"

"Yes. In just a few hours, there was great improvement."

Sylva grinned suddenly. "Did you use the massage oil I sent?"

Lois grinned, too. "Yes. Thank you."

"How many times?"

"Once."

Sylva wagged her finger at Lois. "You know it needs more than once to work properly."

Lois felt herself grinning wider. "I couldn't really justify using it a second time. He had fully healed."

"It's good he healed," Sylva said. "It would be a shame to spoil such fineness. I think you should tell him he needs more oil, just to make sure."

"And I suppose you think I should insist on being the one to apply it?"

"Well, if you don't want to, you can bring him to my hut," Sylva said. "I'm sure I could drag myself out of bed if there was a chance to rub that chest."

Lois pointed her finger at the older woman. "You are outrageous, Sylva."

"My body might be old, but my eyes work just fine," Sylva retorted. "And the sight of him made them jump up and dance."

Lois stifled her giggle. "Kent has been hurt. On the inside. He needs time."

"He's not sure?"

"He needs time," Lois repeated.

"I have gingko powder. You could slip it into his tea."

"Sylva!"

"Hurt on the inside can be soothed by some treatment on the outside," Sylva said mildly.

"It wouldn't work with Kent," Lois said. "He is married."

"Where's his wife?"

"Back in America, having some other guy's baby," Lois said, surprising herself with the bitterness that singed her words.

"Then he's not married, anymore," Sylva said. "And he's Bangala now."

"He still feels married."

"Gingko."

"He'd feel guilty afterwards."

"More gingko," Sylva said with a wink.

"No," Lois said firmly.

Sylva shrugged. "You are willing to travel the long road and wait to see where it takes you? That's not like you, Lois."

Lois sighed. "Sometimes the long road is the only road to get to where you want to be."

Sylva lurched off her pillow. "You do want him? You would marry him? That's how you pushed him, not in his recovery from wounds? What did you do? Try to seduce him?"

"Sylva, I'm married to Matty."

"Lois," Sylva said, "I have been that man's medicine woman for over twenty years. I've seen him so happy that he never stopped smiling. I've seen him so broken that every beat of his heart caused bad pain. I've seen him find contentment with you that has allowed him to heal."

"I wish I could have seen him with Kibibi," Lois said. "He must have been so happy."

"He has been happy with you," Sylva said. "But it's a different sort of happy. It worked for everyone. You were exactly what he needed. Now, you need something else. And God has provided the mondele. Do you want him?"

Lois learned a long time ago that being evasive with Sylva was an exercise doomed to failure. She gave a wry laugh and said, "Of course, I want him. He's strong and kind. He's gentle. He's great with Diddi."

"And his body makes an old woman's eyes dance."

"Well," Lois said with a smile. "There's that, too."

"His hurt will fade. Meanwhile, keep reminding him that you're here and the other no-good woman is gone forever."

Lois sighed. "I think it's going to take a long time," she said.

"I'll keep the gingko ready."

"I'm not going to give him gingko. And you're not to, either."

"Pity," Sylva said. "It would get his engines running."

Lois sipped from her tea, doggedly ignoring the flourish of thoughts incited by Sylva's prediction.

"Have you talked to Matymbou?" Sylva asked. "Is that why you saw him today?"

"He asked what we wanted to do. I told him Kent isn't ready."

"No laka-marriage yet?"

"No."

"Has Kent said anything about how he feels? Does he like being with you?"

"He seemed to enjoy today," Lois said. "We had a wonderful time. "Diddi loves having Kent around. But then I ruined everything by being impatient."

"Have you talked to him since?"

"Yes. We said a lot … resolved very little. I think he feels as if he's in the middle of a huge jungle and he has no idea how to get out." Lois brushed at the dampness gathering in her eyes. "When he first came, he didn't want to get out."

"He must have loved the no-good woman a lot."

Lois stayed silent through a couple of breaths as she sifted through all she knew about Kent. "I think he did love her," she said. "But I think there is something more. Something that made his marriage even more important to him than is usual."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Lois said. "For a man who appears to have everything, he's missing something. I'm not sure if he knows what it is, but I think he had convinced himself that his marriage would fill in the gaps."

"Then she joined with someone else?"

"Perhaps, when she left him, he was forced to face things he'd been avoiding."

"He needs the love of a good woman," Sylva said. "A woman who loves him whatever he is hiding."

"I want to be that woman," Lois said. "But he's not ready to accept that yet."

"Does he feel for you as you do for him?"

Lois nodded slowly. "Maybe. Maybe his feelings are stronger than he's ever experienced before. That petrifies him."

"Then you're right - it's going to have to be the long road."

Lois sighed. "I was hoping to talk with him tonight after Diddi went to bed, but he said he was tired."

"I still think you could try ging-"

"Sylva!"

The older woman stared at Lois with twinkling eyes, refusing to back down.

Slowly, Lois's morose mood dissolved, and she smiled. "You are an incorrigible old woman."

"Does 'incorrigible' means 'brilliant'?"

"No," Lois said, still smiling. "It means 'naughty'." She rose from her cushion. "But I love you, anyway."

"I love you, too," Sylva said. "Do you want me to braid your hair?"

"No. Thanks. I'm going to leave it loose for a while."

Sylva gave her a knowing smile, but said nothing. She picked up her sewing. "Give Diddi a hug from me."

"OK."

"And give the pretty mondele a long and tight hug from you. Get in real close."

"Syl-va," Lois said.

"I said nothing," Sylva said.

"You said plenty."

"I hope you heard plenty, because the pretty one needs more from you than medicine and friendship."

"I hope so."

"Gingko," Sylva said with finality.

Lois scurried out of the hut, trying to control both the rampant images in her mind and the insistent giggle rising from her throat.

~|^|~

Clark tensed as he heard the gate opening.

His ears picked up Lois's voice as it travelled easily across the still night air.

"Hi, Romaric."

"I feel bad that I was wrong today, Lois."

"You told Matymbou that I kissed Kent?"

"Yes. I thought it was a sign of your feelings for each other. I expected there would be a laka-marriage ceremony this afternoon."

"We haven't decided anything yet," Lois said. Her disappointment sliced through the air, gouging a chunk from Clark's heart.

"You're coming back from the village?" Romaric asked.

"Yes. I went to see Rolle and Sylva."

"More story-telling?"

"Yes."

"Was Gislane there?"

"Yes." There was a short silence, perhaps a gap for a smile, and then Lois said, "Goodnight, Romaric."

"Have you told him?"

"Kent?"

"Yes," Romaric said. "Have you told him?"

"Of course not. I promised you I would never tell anyone."

"Is that what is stopping you and him? He has asked questions, and you won't tell him answers?"

"No. I've been careful not to tell him anything that would lead to questions."

"Lois …" Romaric's word was carried by a sigh.

"Nothing has changed, Romaric. As far as that is concerned, nothing will ever change."

"Everything has changed," he said desperately.

"I never told Matymbou."

"You and Matymbou … that is not like you and Kent."

"There's no need to say anything to anybody."

"Do you think Kent might be …"

"No. No. I'm sure he's not. But I gave you my word. We agreed."

"I hope … I hope you can be happy with Kent," Romaric said.

A sound like a sob came, crisp at first and then muffled as if Lois had put her hand over her mouth. Or perhaps she was hugging Romaric.

"Goodnight, Lois," he said a few seconds later. Longing and affection dripped from his words.

"Goodnight, Romaric." There was affection there, too. But no longing.

Clark pinned his eyes closed, determined to appear to be sleeping when Lois came into the hut.

A few minutes later, she moved past him to check on her son. Then, she slipped into her own bed.

She didn't fall asleep quickly, but Clark was still awake long after her breathing had settled into the cadence of deep rest.

He had been so bound up in keeping secrets from Lois that it had never occurred to him she might be keeping something from him.

Now that he thought about it, he knew very little of her life before the Bangala. He knew her family hadn't been close. He knew she'd had some disastrous relationships with men. He knew she had been disenchanted with modern American life and all its violence and greed. He knew she had left her home country and come to the Congo, somehow getting involved with bad guys.

But she'd never given him any explanation for why she was in the Congo.

He didn't even know her former surname … her home town … her job.

Who had she been? What had she done? Why had she come to Africa? How had she become involved with gun runners?

And what was the secret she had pledged to Romaric that she would keep forever?