Fan Fic and More

TWENTY

Lois desperately wanted to stay awake until Clark returned to the hospital, but she couldn’t avoid the persuasive spell that fatigue had cast on her. Before drifting off to sleep, the last thing she recalled seeing was Jason seated in the vinyl chair beside her bed, his nose buried in his book…

***

In her dreams, however, Jason sat at her side. Not on the hospital chair, but on a piano bench, humming a tune she certainly recognized. She closed her eyes and began to hum along with him at first, then quietly recited the verses as they came to her.

“Heart and soul, I fell in love with you heart and soul…the way a fool would do…”

The humming stopped, and Lois snapped her eyes open and looked at the bench, but both it and Jason had vanished.

“Jason?”

No answer.

She clamped her eyes shut again and gave full voice to the lyrics now, wondering perhaps if he heard her singing, he’d come back.

“Heart and soul, I begged to be adored…lost control, and tumbled overboard…”

“..gladly,” a deep voice finished for her, its pitch just slightly off-key.

She smiled as she took a look at the owner of the voice. Apparently singing was not one of Clark’s great abilities…at least not in her dreams.

Clark sat down beside her on the bed, then scooped her up into a hug. She was blissfully pain-free in her dream-state and she comfortably nestled herself in his arms.

“But now I see,” she continued softly. “What one embrace can do…look at me, it’s got me loving you…”

“…madly,” he whispered into her ear.

“That little kiss you stole…held all my heart and soul.”

***

Lois’s eyes fluttered open, and an odd feeling came over her as the memory of the dream lingered. But there were voices in the hospital room, speaking softly in hushed tones, which made her temporarily push the dream from her mind. After just a moment of listening carefully, she realized the voices were Clark’s and Jason’s. Lois closed her eyes again quickly, not wanting to give away the fact that she’d begun to stir. She lay still and – with only a small feeling of guilt nipping at the heels of her conscience – began to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“…I saw a picture, on your desk….from when you were a little kid,” Jason whispered. “Mom told me your dad died.”

“Yes,” Clark answered quietly. “When I was seventeen…of a heart attack.

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes…every day.”

“What was he like?”

Lois listened as Clark described the man who raised him. The elder Mr. Kent, a man neither she nor Jason would ever get a chance to know, was down-to-earth and hard-working; honest and loyal; good and loving – all traits which he passed on to his adopted child.

Anytime Lois had ever bothered to stop to consider Clark’s life in Kansas before, it was always to imagine him as a dorky hayseed who probably excelled at nothing more than corn-shucking and pie-eating contests. Once again, she realized how terribly unjust she had always been to him.

Lois wondered if Clark had been the one to discover his father after the heart attack. Against the backdrop of light that filtered through her eyelids, Lois pictured the aged farmer, lying lifeless in the arms of his mournful son. She pictured Mrs. Kent weeping at Clark’s side. Lois took a sharp breath in to prevent a sob from escaping her. She remembered holding and consoling Jason after Richard’s death, each of them a comfort to the other. She had been the woman mourning with her son in that instance, something of a reflection of Clark and his mother. Lois hoped to one day meet Mrs. Kent, certain she’d be meeting a truly remarkable woman.

“Mom also told me…” Jason paused, and Lois was almost certain what he was going to have Clark confirm next. Clark, however, wasn’t so sure. She heard the nervous uncertainty in his voice when he responded.

“Your mom told you what?” Clark choked out in a whisper.

Poor Clark, Lois thought. She had half a mind to pop her eyes back open to tell him already. Jason knows! Just hug each other, bond, and have it done with! But, in her experience, male bonding never went so easily.

“Mom told me that you’re adopted,” Jason finished.

Lois heard Clark breathe what she could only guess was a sigh of relief.

“That’s right,” Clark verified.

“Your other parents…do you remember them?”

Clark took a moment before answering. “I know what they look like—”

“Do you have pictures?”

“Sort of,” Clark replied. “I know what they look like and I know the sound of their voices, but I can’t actually remember the time I spent with them when they were alive...I was just an infant when they died.”

“How did it happen?”

“Their home was destroyed…they died when this happened.”

“But you thought maybe it didn’t happen, didn’t you? That’s why you went away.” Lois could hear comprehension dawning in Jason’s voice. “I remember now, one of those old newspapers hanging at Mom’s – and your – office…the one that says…you went to see if your parents were okay!” Lois fully expected Jason to exclaim ‘Aha!’ next. Instead, in a melancholy voice, he asked Clark, “But they weren’t okay, were they?”

“No, they weren’t,” said Clark. “But how did you…did your mom say something about…”

“About you being you-know-who?” Jason asked in a voice Lois could barely make out. “No, Mom’s pretty good at keeping secrets…she didn’t tell. She didn’t tell the other part, either. I just knew.”

“The other part?”

“The part about you really being…my dad.”

At this, there was an infinite span of silence, or so it seemed to Lois, from her post in the hospital bed. She wanted badly to peek to see if Clark had fallen out of his chair.

“That’s true, Jason,” Clark affirmed, finally breaking the silence. “You knew?”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I did, because…well, because of a lot of things. I haven’t even shown Mom this yet, but I’ve wanted to show you…”

Lois’s ears perked up.

Jason cleared his throat, then said in a very faint whisper, “I think Mom’s awake, but I should probably show her, too.”

Lois heard Clark chuckle. “I think she’s been awake for a while…should we find out for sure?”

Lois popped her eyes open before Clark got a chance to prove his point. His hand was poised to tickle her foot.

“Okay, I give up,” Lois said, pulling her foot away defensively. There was just no fun in eavesdropping on a couple of people with the ability to detect changes in heart rate and breathing patterns. “Show me what, Jason?” She looked cautiously towards the door. After all, a nurse could walk in at any time…

Jason hopped down from his seat and walked to the door. He stood in place in front of it, and looked down at his sneakers with firm resolution. “I can’t always do it. Sometimes I’m just as slow as ever…”

“It’s okay if you can’t, sweetheart,” Lois told him, taking a guess that her child was going to attempt to move at super speed.

Jason looked at Clark. “I’ll try my very best,” he said.

Clark nodded. “That’s all you can do, Jason.”

Lois held her breath as she watched Jason ball his hands into two tight fists. He exhaled sharply as he continued to stare at his sneakers for the next minute.

Two minutes passed, then three…

He couldn’t do it. Lois’s heart sank. Frankly, she didn’t care at what velocity he could move, she just couldn’t bear to see him disappointed.

Four minutes now, and he was still focused on his sneakers, as if perhaps willing them to move like lightning would make it so.

She began to open her mouth to say, “Jason, if you can’t do this…it’s okay…it’s more than okay! We love you no matter what, Jason!” But before she could open her mouth to form the first syllable of the first word…

Whoosh!

Jason was standing at the other side of the hospital room, his hair windswept but – other than that – looking none the worse for the wear.

“I can’t always do it,” he repeated. He wasn’t even out of breath, and there wasn’t a trace of perspiration on him. Not a single, tiny bead. “I have to really concentrate. But when I do, I’m fast.”

***

“Another day or possibly two,” the doctor told her a little later on, in regards to the question of when she’d be departing Metropolis General. “You’re doing well, but I’d rather err on the side of caution, Ms. Lane, just to be certain. And even then, I need your solemn vow…to take it easy.”

Lois vowed she’d try her best. Like Clark’s advice to Jason, it was all she could do.

“So, what’s all this?” she asked Clark, after the doctor departed and a nurse volunteered to take Jason to the nurses’ station for a cup of non-dairy hot cocoa. Lois was pointing to a black bag on the floor between the two chairs.

“Your laptop, and…” Clark paused. “I was hesitant to show you this.” He fished out a folded newspaper and slowly handed it over to her.

Lois opened the paper and raised an eyebrow as she saw that it was an edition of the Metropolis Star, and not the Planet.

“Why’d you bring me this rag, Clark?” she sniffed, reluctantly looking down to scan the headline. In an instant she knew exactly why. The headline read Metropolis Transit Workers Strike! Popular Newswoman Nearly Massacred in Mob Scene, with the byline credited to Abe Washburn. Lois groaned. “Popular? What is this, junior high school? Good God, Washburn could’ve done better than that! I’ve been scooped by a moron!”

Clark gave her a sympathetic look, then sat down beside her on the bed. She tossed the paper aside.

“You’re not even going to read it?” he asked.

“Why bother?” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “There are bigger stories out there.”

Clark furrowed his brow and gave her a look of disapproval. “Like what?” he said.

“Like Boy Reveals His Awareness of True Parentage! Mother and Father Try to Cope…with a follow-up of Even More New Coping Skills Needed! Boy’s Emergent Superpowers Prove to be Problematic During Field Day at Local Elementary School…that particular story tells how the boy in question broke records in every event, including the beanbag relay, sack hop and Frisbee toss.”

Clark couldn’t help but laugh. “Does kind of makes you look at things from a different perspective doesn’t it? Our situation, I mean.”

Lois took his hand. “Yeah, it does. I began to look at lots of things differently when I became a parent. You’ve just gotten a late start is all.” She gave his hand a squeeze.

“Jason seemed…so accepting,” Clark said. “But what if I’m no good at this? What if…”

“You’re not alone in this, you know,” Lois assured him. She brought his hand to her mouth and planted a firm kiss there. “We have each other.”

***

TBC

Author’s Note: Heart and Soul lyrics by Frank Loesser. The old newspaper headline Jason was referring to was one entitled Is It Krypton? which ran in the Daily Planet on Monday, August 16th, 2000. And how do I know this? Because I own the visual guide to SR, of course! ;-)

Great part, Bisty! I loved this part especially:

she didn’t tell. She didn’t tell the other part, either. I just knew.”

“The other part?”

“The part about you really being…my dad.”

At this, there was an infinite span of silence, or so it seemed to Lois, from her post in the hospital bed. She wanted badly to peek to see if Clark had fallen out of his chair.

“That’s true, Jason,” Clark affirmed, finally breaking the silence. “You knew?”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I did, because…well, because of a lot of things. I haven’t even shown Mom this yet, but I’ve wanted to show you…”

Lois’s ears perked up.

I also love that they are together. :D

you rock you totally totally rock. completely. and this is so good.

Author’s Note: This chapter most definitely gets a “Rated ‘M’ For Mature” score. Because there has been a short time lapse from where we left our characters at the end of part twenty until the point where we pick back up here in part twenty-one, I thought it only fair to inform everyone that Lois stuck it out for almost another two full days at the hospital before getting the okay to go home. It’s the evening of the second day that she, Clark, and a snoozing Jason arrive back at the ranch…er, I mean house. ;-)

****


TWENTY-ONE

Jason leaned against Lois’s good arm five minutes after the cab pulled away from Metropolis General, and was out cold two minutes after that. As the cab steered into her driveway, she was a little surprised to see her own car parked there. She turned to Clark and grinned.

“I arranged to have it…” Clark began, eyeing the cabbie cautiously. “…towed.”

Clark paid the driver, then scooped Jason from the backseat. Jason’s head lolled for a moment, then settled against Clark’s shoulder. With his free hand, Clark reached for Lois, helping her ease out from her place near the opposite door.

“How d’you feel?” he asked as they walked to the front porch.

“I’ve felt better,” Lois admitted. “But – all things considered – I guess not too shabby…”

Once inside, Clark headed to the staircase toting their sleeping boy. Lois stood by the sofa and watched him carry Jason upstairs.

A few minutes later, Clark rejoined her in the living room. “I could get used to this,” he said.

“You’ve discovered my evil plot,” Lois declared. “To brainwash you into getting used to this…and soon I’ll convince you to mow the lawn, take out the garbage, and give the dog a bath…”

“You don’t have a dog…”

“We should get one,” she said decisively.

We, she said.

Clark raised his eyebrows and then smiled.

We.

“So, do I get carried upstairs and tucked into bed, too?” asked Lois. She bit her bottom lip coyly and tugged at Clark’s sleeve until he smiled again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said with a happy grin.

***

“Stay where you are,” Clark said, holding up a hand in protest as she made an attempt to get up from the bed. A few moments before, he’d carried her up the staircase, quietly cradling her in his arms as he brought her to the bedroom to lay her gently down on the bed. “Let me take care of everything. You stay put.”

Lois nodded and reclined against the two pillows propped up behind her. She crossed her ankles and watched Clark scan her dresser for just a moment. He opened the second drawer and removed a neatly folded, pale blue nightshirt, then said, “This will do.”

Lois began to unbutton her blouse as Clark brought the nightshirt to her, but he stopped her actions once again. “The doctor said for you to take it easy,” Clark warned. “Let me.” He placed the nightshirt aside and took over where Lois left off, undoing the buttons quickly and with ease, as if he undressed her every night before bed.

Every night in fantasy, perhaps, Lois thought as his fingers tickled the flesh above her rib cage.

“How does this feel?” Clark asked. Lois wasn’t sure if he was referring to her healed injury or to his touch.

“Just fine,” Lois breathed, settling for an answer that was suitable either way.

He slid his hands cautiously up the span of her torso, obviously being careful not to let his touch be too insistent or forceful – she was, after all, still technically recovering from the accident. He let his fingertips linger over the silken fabric of her bra for just an instant as his hands moved upward; just long enough for her to be disappointed when they traveled away. He slipped the blouse off her shoulders and gently tugged it away. His gaze hung on the bare skin he just uncovered, and Lois took delight as those stunning eyes pored over her.

His hands moved to the waistband of her khakis. With his index finger, he traced an outline over the fold of fabric covering her zipper, trailing it down, then back up towards the button. The contact against her abdomen, even through the heavy cloth of her slacks, made her keenly aware of the warm craving building deep down from within her. She felt it thrum against the center of her body as he undid the button and dragged the zipper down. As he lifted her hips and lowered the slacks to remove them, Lois felt the warmth intensify. He tossed the khakis aside, then moved both hands up the length of her legs, following the path from her ankles, past her knees, and stopping at her thighs.

Just another inch or two upward, she thought. Did he revel in teasing her like this? She was absolutely aching at the moment, and not from any injury left over from the accident, either.

His hands began their journey again, and it was all Lois could do not to try to hold them in place as they moved across the thin fabric of her panties. The thrumming was steadily turning into throbbing, and she knew he was the only remedy for the ache inside, her only release from the strident yearning that screamed out for contact. But his hands continued past that hungry spot, until he was touching her torso once again. He pulled her body forward and unclasped her bra at the back. The straps resting on her shoulders slackened and the cups fell away from her breasts as Clark did away with yet another article of her clothing. She leaned into him, taking pleasure as the coarse fabric of his suit jacket rubbed against the sensitive skin he just exposed.

“Still fine?” he whispered in her ear.

Fine? she thought. I could be fine, if only… She slid her hands under his jacket and felt the muscles of his chest ripple beneath the fabric of his shirt and hidden suit, against the light touch of her fingertips. She tugged the jacket off his shoulders and discarded it; it joined the pile of her own garments on the floor beside the bed.

“Lois,” Clark spluttered, as she began to play with the belt buckle at his waist. “The doctor said easy…”

“And so I trust you will be easy with me,” Lois countered. “Nice and easy.” She grabbed one of his hands as she leaned back against the pillows, placing his palm firmly against the elastic circling her waist. She struggled for breath as his hand began to leisurely stroke the sheer fabric of her undergarment, and stifled an outright moan as he let his fingers slowly start to play beneath the waistband. Easing the pants down her hips, Clark peeled away her final bit of clothing.

Like a rerun of the actions his hands followed before, he guided them up the path of her legs once more. Again, he brought them to rest against the inner part of her thighs. Again, she thought she’d die from the ache he was setting off in her. But unlike before, she shifted her legs apart, spreading them wide and allowing him admittance. As he stroked her, she closed her eyes and rode the wave of pleasure he was fashioning with each skillful touch. It amazed her how now, just as it had been the last time they were together, he seemed to instinctively know exactly how to please her, but really it shouldn’t have. After all, the last time hadn’t been the first time…

“Clark…” She whimpered his name as he leaned forward to occupy his mouth with the task of tasting of her neck. His fingers continued to work deftly inside of her, carrying her away on each wave to a place of extreme bliss. His mouth persistently savored her skin, and his tongue settled in the space between her breasts for just an instant before lapping its way to one of her nipples. He licked at it hungrily. Lois brought her hands to his hair and raked her fingers through it as he offered her more satisfaction.

Her back was arched to meet each touch he gave, her hips rising to match the wonderful rhythm of each caress. Each touch felt deeper than the last, and she knew she wasn’t far from release now. It was steadily becoming difficult to take things ‘easy’ with his hand buried inside of her; thrusting faster, stroking harder, driving her mad like no other man had before. As she finally let go, Lois moaned his name again. His pace began to slow, but he still continued to work inside of her a while longer, pressing to liberate any last remnants of pleasure he could. When he at last slid his hand from its position inside the wet, warm recesses of her body, she finally relaxed.

His eyes were alight with desire, but she saw a reluctance to continue evident in his expression, too. “That wasn’t really taking it easy,” he murmured.

True, she thought. Her newly-healed ribcage had to concur.

“I shouldn’t have…”

Lois sat up and hushed him by pressing her index finger against his lips. “You didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want you to do.” And there are still a few things I’m willing to risk the ribs for, she thought. She lowered her finger from his lips and replaced it with her mouth, stealing a kiss. This time it was Clark who moaned as Lois’s hands wandered back to his belt buckle, and then just below. She ran her fingertips over the material of his trousers, teasing him like he’d teased her before, then finally clasping her hands around him, reaping infinite amounts of gratification at what she felt beneath her touch. He was excited; hard to the touch as he fought his own steady, mounting desire…and all for her. This was her power over him, and she began to feel the thrumming and throbbing all over again just from entertaining thoughts of it. She fumbled with the belt buckle and worked quickly to undo his trousers. She rubbed her hand greedily over the bulging, scarlet fabric underneath, and wished one of his powers was the ability to dissolve fabric away. Perhaps he had the same wish as he moaned again at the feel of her cupped hands resting over spandex, all that much closer to making actual contact with flesh.

Lois unknotted his necktie and yanked it free, then quickly sought to unfasten each button on his dress shirt. As he was about to shrug the shirt off, he paused. Lois sat in quiet amusement as Clark gave his partially-exposed supersuit a disparaging glare. Perhaps carnal desire superseded his knack for quickly and expertly removing his own clothes. Or perhaps not…

She barely registered the blur of color whirling in front of her eyes, before it was all over with. And there was Clark, hovering above her – well, not hovering by his standards, but hovering just the same – his eyes the deepest blue she’d ever recalled seeing them, the offending supersuit stripped away, cape, boots and all. She couldn’t resist a little grin over how much he’d obviously been irritated at having to contend with the suit in this situation. She didn’t know how she suddenly recalled, but she was certain he’d never before had to deal with it when…things got intimate.

In fact, a few things were suddenly occurring to her out of the blue. Like, how she knew exactly what type of response she could evoke from him if she rolled him onto his back, swung her leg across to straddle him, inched herself lower and lower until…

Clark let out a low moan and bucked his hips forward. Lois knew his hands would soon be against her skin, and he did not disappoint her. He was working at kneading her soft flesh as if he were a sculptor in a studio, delicately yet proficiently molding his hands to her figure, all the while piercing her deeper and deeper as they pitched together as one.

***

Resting in his embrace, Lois couldn’t help but ponder how natural everything seemed with him. She could hear his breathing, soft and steady, as she nuzzled against his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around her as he slept. She felt like she fit perfectly there with him, as if they were two lost pieces of a puzzle, interlocked again at long last. She lightly trailed the tips of her fingers across the broad expanse of his chest, marking the contour of his muscles with a series of invisible lines and swirls. She whispered to him, quiet expressions of her affection and love. She didn’t know how or why it was, but the two of them had always shared such a strong connection. Was it written in the stars that they were destined to be together? Because, or so it seemed, no matter what obstacles they faced – in the end – it always came down to them.

For better or for worse…it was them.



TBC

of course they are destined to be together. lois lois lois. i should send you a letter from h.g. well.

dear lois,

i hear you are wandering about you and clark. let me clear some things up for you. i have traveled across dimensions and through time. and you always find each other. always. in fact even in a place where you weren't. when you were you still found each other.

love is blind and timeless and eternal

mr. wells

(in case i didn't make it clear. loved the last part)