Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Once Bitten (28/?)

"Why didn't you move into our hut if we are your favourites? Why are you going to live in Tsumbu's hut?"

"Because you and your maman are a family and I'm not a part of that family."

"You said we are your favourites."

"You are."

"But you don't want to live in our hut?"

"No, Diddi. I can't live in your hut."

"Why didn't Matymbou give Maman to you?"

"I can't marry your maman," Clark said. "I'm already married to someone else."

Surprise lifted Diddi's eyebrows. "Where is she?"

"She's with my old tribe."

"Are you going to leave us?" Diddi asked. "Are you going back to her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because she decided she didn't want to be with me anymore."

"Did she like someone else more than you?"

"Yeah," Clark said with a sigh. "She did."

Diddi pointed to his chest. "Did that make you hurt in here?"

"Yes. It hurt a lot."

"Is that why you're sad sometimes?"

"Yes."

"Maman said that if we tried to make you happy, you wouldn't be sad anymore."

Clark smiled. "Maybe she's right."

"Do you think she's sad that she can't have a baby?"

"I don't know. But she has you."

"I'm sad there won't be a baby. But I guess it doesn't matter that she doesn't have a husband."

"Uhm," Clark said. Looking to the darkening sky, he added, "We should go back to the village, Diddi, or your maman will send Romaric out to look for us."

Diddi giggled. As they left the quarantine area, he slipped his hand into Clark's larger one. "I'm so glad you came, Kent," he said. "I like being your buddy."

"I'm glad, too, Diddi," Clark said.

"Really?"

Clark nodded as the truth massaged his heart. "Yes," he said. "I'm very glad I came to be with you and your maman." His feet quickened without his bidding. Towards the village. And Lois.


Part 28

Lois's rug lay across her lap and the hook was in her hand, but she'd only threaded a couple of strips during the past half an hour. She'd been listening for footsteps, and every likely sound from outside the hut had stilled her fingers and lured her thoughts into the cache of memories.

Despite Diddi's uncharacteristic behaviour, it wasn't parental anxiety that made her impatient for their return, but her eagerness to see Kent again.

As much as she'd missed him today, she knew the intensity of living together with only Diddi as a buffer couldn't continue. Time and space were essential for Kent's healing, and she intended to give him as much of both as he required. But it had come at a price. She'd taken refuge in organisational efficiency to hide her dismay at shunting him off to live with Tsumbu.

She'd been careful to concentrate her attention on Diddi when he'd inadvertently given her the perfect opening to communicate to Kent that having a baby wasn't an important part of her dreams for the future. Sure, she'd bent the truth a little - or at least extrapolated never having been pregnant to an inability to conceive - but a small lie was inconsequential when measured against her longing to see Kent free from his self-doubts.

At the sound of Diddi's voice, Lois rolled up her rug. His chirpy tone brought a smile to her face as she stood and went to the doorway to greet them. "Have fun?" she asked.

"I got more shots than Kent got," Diddi announced gleefully.

"Well done." Lois bent down to hug her son, sending a mouthed, "Thanks," above his head to Kent. His return smile caused her spirits to soar. "Want to come in for some tea?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," Kent said. "Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

"Where's Zephyrin?" Diddi asked from inside the hut. "Where's his bed?"

"He wanted to go and stay with Romaric," Lois answered.

"Why?"

"Perhaps it was because you didn't make him feel welcome here," Lois said evenly.

"Can I go and find him now? Can I ask him if he wants to play with the truck?"

Lois hooked her finger under Diddi's chin and gently lifted his head. "You know it isn't Gislane's fault that Matymbou wants to be with her, don't you?" she said.

Diddi nodded, his dark eyes cloudy with contrition.

"And you know it isn't Zephyrin's fault for anything his maman does?"

Diddi nodded again. "Do you think he still wants to be my friend?"

Lois patted her son's shoulder. "Go and find him now. I'm sure you can think up some great space journeys to travel together."

Diddi grinned. "I'll make another rocket," he said. "Then we can have one each." He ran out of the hut.

Lois moved closer to Kent. "Thanks," she said.

"I didn't say much."

"It seems to have been effective."

They stood for a long moment, not touching, but bound together by something more compelling than physical connection.

"I missed you today," Lois said.

"I missed you, too," Kent replied. "I was watching you, hoping you were all right, wishing I could talk to you, wishing I could be there for you."

Lois grasped his arm, just above his wrist. "I was fine." She chuckled grimly. "Until Diddi started being so unkind to Zephyrin."

"I think he was caught off-guard," Kent said. "I know you told him what was going to happen, but maybe he just needed some time to adjust to the changes."

"Time can work miracles," Lois said softly.

"Yeah."

It sounded so much like an admission of progress that Lois's heart skipped in celebration. Overcoming the compulsion to drive him forward, she reluctantly released his arm and said, "Come and sit down. The tea is brewed, and I have some of Gislane's cookies."

They sat together, just like old friends sharing the evening after a day apart. "How's Ines?" Kent asked.

"Her wrist is painful, but it's only sprained. I made a comfrey poultice. I think she'll be back working in a couple of days."

"Is she going to object to my being there?"

"Not at all. Clyde and Ines make functional pieces because we need them, but both would prefer to spend more time on decorative projects."

"Clyde showed me some of his carving," Kent said. "He's very skilled, and I was impressed with his tools."

"Did you meet Kahindo, the flintknapper?"

"No. No one came into the hut except Diddi when he collected his truck."

"Kahindo makes tools for Clyde and Ines," Lois said. "If there's something you'd like that they don't have, you could try to describe it to Kahindo. I know he'd make it for you."

Kent reached for one of Gislane's cookies. "Clyde seems to have everything necessary."

"But if you know of a tool … New knowledge and skills are always welcome."

"I don't have either," Kent said. "I've never worked as a carpenter."

Lois looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration. "Clyde has worked with wood since his father taught him as a boy, and he was genuinely impressed with the truck you made."

"My parents were farmers," Kent said. "I remember helping my dad when he built a small lean-to on our barn."

"That's all the experience you have?"

He smiled at her tone. "Yep."

"Wow. I just assumed it had been your job." She paused, giving him the chance to elaborate further. When he didn't, she said, "I'm glad you have some memories of your parents."

"Yeah."

"Do you have any memories of your birth parents?"

"No. Nothing. I was too young."

"Aww, Kent. That must be so hard."

"My adoptive parents, Martha and Jonathan, loved me. I was very lucky."

"But then they died, too?"

He nodded, bereft. "In a car wreck."

Lois rested her hand on his arm and allowed it to linger for a few seconds before drawing away. "I figured it must have been an accident of some sort. You indicated that their deaths were close together."

"They were both killed instantly," Kent said bleakly. "There was nothing I could do."

"Were you fostered after that?"

"Yeah."

"Were you close to any of the families? Is there anyone you miss?"

"No. I moved around from family to family. I never fitted in anywhere."

"Oh, Kent," Lois said, understanding more fully why his marriage was so important to him. "I'm sorry."

His smile was a little forced, so she wasn't surprised when he said, "What about you? You said you weren't close with your family. Is there anyone you miss?"

"There is someone," she said. "It's funny you should ask because I've been thinking about him a lot today."

"Him?"

"He was my boss, but he was so much more than that. He was one of my closest friends." She smiled as memories drifted through her mind. "He was hard, tough, and never wasted any words sugar-coating the truth. But his heart was gold, and he genuinely cared about people."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He was. Whenever I think of him, I always hope he wasn't worn down by the society in which he lived. I hope he was able to stay strong."

"Was there … a romantic connection between you?"

Lois laughed. "Oh, no," she said. "He was married and had a couple of kids who were older than I was." She sobered. "But I loved him. He felt like a father to me."

"Do you think he has worried about you?"

"Yes," she said. "And I hate that. By now, he must assume I'm dead. That is, if he's still alive."

"You think he might have died? Was he that old?"

"No. But he stood up for what he knew was right, even when it meant opposing powerful people. I often feared he would pay one day, but I knew he would never stop fighting injustice and corruption."

They fell silent then, drinking their tea as memories of a shared and distant homeland whirled around them.

Kent eased them from their reflection by moving to refill their cups. "How is Rolle?" he asked.

"Physically, she's as well as I could hope," Lois replied. "Emotionally, she's a bit anxious. She's tired of being so big and awkward, and she just wishes it was over."

"Do you think it will be soon?"

"First babies can be hard to estimate," Lois said. "But I'm expecting she will start labour in the next few days."

"I hope everything goes well."

"Me, too."

"I wish …"

"What?" Lois said.

Kent shrugged self-consciously. "I was going to say, 'I wish there was something I could do to help,' which is obviously absurd."

Lois smiled. "But the thought was sweet."

"It's just …" He stared into his cup. "I have this outlandish desire to make everything perfect for you. So you're never worried again."

"Aw, Kent." Lois felt moisture gather around her eyes and pushed out a wobbly chuckle. "The funny thing is that I feel exactly the same about you."

"Is it …" His question ran aground.

"Go on."

"Is it difficult helping other women give birth, knowing that you can't have a baby of your own?"

"No," she said. "I've accepted it. I have Diddi. I count my blessings every day."

"You've known for a long time?"

"I never thought of myself as a particularly maternal person."

"You're a wonderful mother."

"Thank you," she said. "Initially, I was surprised by how much I enjoy being Diddi's mother. Now, I can't imagine life without him." She reached across, placing her hand over his. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

"It's OK."

"Does it make any difference? To us?"

"No."

"You would make a wonderful father."

"I wanted to have a family from the time I was just a kid, but I've had to learn that all the wanting in the world doesn't guarantee you'll get it."

"Sometimes, what you get can be just as good."

He gave her a half-smile. "You mean you didn't always dream of being a medicine woman in Africa and raising a Bangala child that is obviously not related to you?"

Lois laughed, loving his light tone. "No, that was never my dream. But if I were living my dream, I don't think I'd be as happy as I am now." She slid her thumb across his warm skin. "Particularly as my dream didn't include a tall, handsome guy literally dropping into my life."

"You didn't want to be married?"

"No. I wanted a career. I wanted success, acclaim, and sufficient influence to change to world. Instead I got a place to belong, a community of people who love and accept me, and a child I couldn't love any more if I'd borne him from my own body."

Kent placed his cup on the ground and spread his hand over hers. "I'm sorry about the distance between us since the swimming hole."

Lois squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, too. We moved too quickly. That was my fault. I'm trying to be patient."

"What if time isn't enough?"

"It will be."

"How can you know that?"

"You are too strong, too resilient, and too big-hearted to allow fear to destroy your capacity to love."

He nodded, but didn't comment.

"Think about how you were feeling when I found you," Lois said. "Think of how far you've come in a week."

"There are things about me you don't know."

"They aren't important."

But Lois could see they were important to Kent. His eyes dropped to the ground, and his hand fell from hers. She waited, barely breathing as she gave him time to decide if he were ready to share his secrets with her.

"Maman!" Diddi ran into the hut. "Can Zephyrin and I have more cookies, please?"

"Yes," Lois said, her hand still on Kent's.

Diddi swept two cookies from the plate and tore out of the hut.

When Lois looked back to Kent, she knew the moment had passed. But she wasn't prepared to let it slip away to nothing.

She moved closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you're hiding, it won't stop me loving you."

Kent's eyes leapt into hers. He blinked, and very slowly, his smile unfurled. "You love me?" he said in a voice rich with wonder.

"Totally. Unshakeably. Absolutely. Eternally."

His smile died. "I'm married, Lois. Whatever I feel, I can't say …"

"You don't have to say anything," she said.

He took a breath, his eyes fixed tight in hers. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met."

Her joy bubbled up, and in lieu of the kiss she wanted to give him, she rubbed his shoulder. "You're pretty incredible yourself, Mr Kent."

"Mr Kent?" he said, full of surprise, but smiling, too.

Her hand slid from his body. "I've never thought 'Kent' is the name you used back home."

"I was trying to leave myself behind. To escape."

"Kent suits you."

He picked up his cup and drank from it. "You haven't told me your surname."

"As of today, I'm Lois Moko."

"Lois Alone," he murmured.

"I'm not alone," she said quickly. "I have Diddi. I belong to the Bangala." She waited until he looked at her. "And I have you."

"What was your name before you came to the Bangala?"

"That woman is dead to everyone who knew her."

"You don't want to tell me?" Kent asked.

Lois searched his face and found only curiosity, not suspicion or hurt at being excluded. "Maybe I'm trying to escape, too," she said lightly. "Maybe we will escape together."

"That sounds a whole lot better than it should," he said, a little ruefully, but the smile hadn't drained from his eyes.

"Keep thinking about it. Maybe you'll come to see merit in the idea."

Kent grinned at that. He finished his tea, slid his hand from hers, and stood up. "I should go. If you're going to be called on at any moment to deliver a baby, you should get lots of rest."

"I should," Lois said, mourning that their time together had finished, but jubilant because the feeling of connection had been re-established. "Will you come for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Dinner would be nice," Kent said. "Thanks."

She risked a brief sweep of her fingertips across his chin. "When you see Kahindo, you can ask about a razor."

He ran his forefinger lightly through her hair. "You didn't get your hair braided."

"You said you like it loose."

His smile came, soft like the first layer of snow. "Goodnight, Lois."

"Goodnight, Kent."

They stood for a moment, mired in the awkward ground between friendship and something more. Finally, Lois gave him a quick, flimsy hug and stepped away.

He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Lois stood still in her empty hut, wishing they were at a place in their relationship where he could stay. Want to stay. Share her bed. Her body.

With a sigh, she turned and began clearing away the cups.

~|^|~

Early the next morning, Clark presented himself in the carpentry hut and Clyde greeted him with a big smile and gave him the task of sawing several long branches to set lengths.

Clark set to work with gusto. He felt good this morning, suspended between memories of the previous evening spent with Lois and the anticipation of dinner with her tonight.

She loved him!

That knowledge had nestled into his heart and already begun to work its change.

The feeling of being married to Lana was slipping away. A few times, his conscience had tried to haul it back, but Clark knew it was a losing battle. Time and distance were heavily on the side of moving forward.

Lois had said that whatever he was hiding would not change how she felt about him.

Of course, she could never, ever guess that he was an imposter from another planet.

He had come so close to telling her last night. If Diddi hadn't run in …

Clark's heart accelerated. If Diddi hadn't run in, by now, everything would be different.

Perhaps he would have been shunned by the Bangala and evicted from their village.

Perhaps Lois would have agreed to keep his secret, but would have made it clear that she could never have an intimate relationship with an alien.

Or perhaps, she would have been so accepting of his differences that the final barrier had crumbled and their laka-marriage was only hours away.

You're still married to Lana.

But Lana had moved on. She had violated her promises to him and made a life - and a baby - with another man.

At lunchtime, Ines arrived with a tray of food and three cups of coffee. She smiled broadly when Clyde introduced her to Clark. She showed him her bandaged wrist and said, "Lois," a few times. Despite the language barrier, she managed to convey her pleasure that he had joined her and her brother.

During the afternoon, Clark's thoughts turned more and more to Lois and their dinner this evening. He missed her. He wanted time to pass quickly. He yearned to be alone with her.

He wasn't sure being alone was wise, but his cautious side couldn't stifle his hope that Diddi and Zephyrin would want to play outside after they'd eaten.

Loneliness nibbled around his heart.

He wanted to see Lois's smile. Hear her voice. Talk with her.

He wanted -

A young girl sprinted into the hut. Clark recognised her as Lioli, Matymbou's daughter. "Clyde! Ines!" Seeing Clark, she stopped. "Hello, Kent."

"Nsango nini?" Clyde asked, coming over.

"Mwana kozala Rolle nakoya."

As soon as Clark heard Rolle's name, he knew he wouldn't be having dinner with Lois that evening.

"Azali malamu?" Clyde said. "E bandaki tango nini?"

"Benga Lois." Lioli turned to Clark. "Rolle's baby has started to come. She has called Lois."

"Is her … Azali malamu?" Clyde asked.

"Yes, she is fine," Lioli said. "Papa said to tell everyone." The girl raced off.

Clyde turned to Clark, beaming. "Rolle … baby. Much good."

"Yes," Clark agreed, thinking about Lois and the hours ahead. She was going to be devastated if anything went wrong.

Clyde took the hammer from Clark's hand. "No more … baby come. No … loud."

"We can't work until the baby is born?"

"We wait. Baby come." Clyde grasped Clark's arm. "I teach," he said. "No work. Teach." He picked up two chisel-like implements and gave one to Clark.

"You'll teach me how to carve?" Clark said.

Clyde grinned. "Yes. Teach carve."

~|^|~

It was as if a cloak of silence had fallen over the village as the news of Rolle's labour spread through the Bangala people. In the carpentry hut, Clyde demonstrated the skills of carving, using only occasional softly spoken words as explanation.

"You … now?" he said, handing Clark a chunk of wood and a small chisel.

"Thanks," Clark whispered.

Clyde continued with his carving, his skilful hands creating the image with breath-taking clarity.

Clark positioned his piece of wood in the brace and awaited inspiration.

What was happening in Rolle's hut? Was the labour progressing well? Or were there already worrying developments?

How was Lois feeling?

Was Sylva there to help her?

How long had Rolle been in labour? Would the baby be born today?

He wished he could go to Lois, to see her, just for a moment. To hold her. To tell her he had the utmost confidence in her abilities.

The memories of last night still seeped through his heart like a river of melted chocolate. Lois had said she loved him. She'd known 'Kent' had been a cover, but she hadn't been offended by his evasiveness.

An image formed in his mind - an image of something he could make for Lois. Hoping his abilities would be enough to do justice to his idea, he began gently whittling away in the corner of his wood.

As he worked, Clark discovered he was listening for the footsteps that would bring news. Or the sound of a baby's cry.

The footsteps came late in the afternoon, but it wasn't the light twinkling steps of Lioli; it was the slow measured steps of Romaric. He greeted Clyde and continued on to Clark. "You will come to my hut for dinner?" he asked.

"Ah … yes," Clark said. "Thank you."

"Diddi will show you where." Romaric turned and walked out.