Interlude, a smallville fanfic

Title: "Interlude"
Author: Annie M
Series: Smallville
Rating: M
Codes: Clark and Lois (Clois)
Part: One-shot

Thanks and gratitude to ljparis for beta reading.

Summary:An AU Clois future fic for adults only.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No infringement intended to DC, Warner Bros or whoever else owns these characters.

British spellings used throughout.

Interlude by Annie M

Clark Kent entered through the kitchen of their small two-bedroom, rented, house and tossed his keys onto the counter, next to a bowl of ripening fruit and a half-eaten box of Ding-Dongs.

"Lois?" he called out, hopefully. "Lo, are you home?"

He hovered a few feet in the air as he un-strapped the holster from around his thigh and waist. Easing it off, he placed the police-issue pistol, still sheathed in its harness, along with his handcuffs and pepper spray, nightstick and torch into their usual off-duty resting place: a shelf high above the fridge-freezer of their small kitchen.

Setting his feet back against the tiled floor he opened the fridge, eyed its contents and grabbed a can of soda. He opened the drink where he stood, took several long swallows before pausing to belch then wiped the back of his left hand across his mouth. He tipped the can to his lips again, finishing the fizzy beverage within another moment before crushing the can and closing the fridge door.

Running a tired hand through his hair, Clark moved from the kitchen into the hall, tossing the crumpled can into the little green re-cycle bin on his way out of the door. He unzipped his uniform jacket, shrugged it off his shoulders and hooked it onto the coat stand in the hallway.

"Lois?" he called again.

Silence greeted him and he sighed, a little disappointed. No doubt his lovely wife was probably still in Metropolis, either following a lead, or too caught up at her desk at The Daily Planet to notice the time. In his mind's eye he could see her fingers moving briskly over her keyboard, her prose style snappy, her facts clear, and her conclusions, while always devastatingly honest, never lacking a certain sense of ironic humour.

He reached out to her, as he always did when he needed that instant assurance of her life force's connection with his. He could feel her, a rhythmic thrum-thrum that warmed every part of him and made his fingers tingle in anticipation of seeing her, touching her. She was in Metropolis, as he'd suspected, and she was fine, agitated, but fine.

The rhythm that connected him to her wasn't her heartbeat or even her scent, though he was intimately acquainted with both, it was more akin to a unique frequency signature that only Lois emitted. A frequency that acted like a comforting vibration, one that only he could feel and tune into.

It had taken him some time to realise that he even knew where and how she was at a moment's notice, since her return to his hometown, but once he'd finally acknowledged his feelings for her--she'd been the one to actually force the issue--he found it incredibly liberating to share such an intimate connection. Lois naturally hated the implications.

"So, I'm like an open book to you?" she'd argued, clearly outraged at the thought.

"I can't read your mind, Lo," he'd tried to assure her. "I just kind of get a sense of your well-being; are you angry, upset, happy… horny."

Lois had smacked him upside his head as he'd grinned down at her. "Smallville, you pervert! There's no way you can tell from miles away if I'm horny! Can you?"

He'd kept grinning at her in answer, there were some things he didn't need to confirm, and besides, he liked to keep her off balance as much as she did him.

He climbed the stairs and entered their bedroom, changing out of his uniform and into an old pair of black jeans, a black, long sleeved, t-shirt and a pair of black, non-descript, work boots in less time than it takes to think about it. Opening a draw he pulled out a dark, woollen, ski mask and placed it over his head, adjusting it so that it covered his hair, mouth and nose, leaving only his eyes exposed to scrutiny.

He fiddled with his wedding band, not wanting to take it off, despite having his wife's repeated objections to the notion on a continuous loop in his head.

"The more people know about you, the more they're going to try and pry. Trust me, Smallville, I know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, but it's my wedding band, Lois. When I put it on, I had no intention of ever taking it off."

"I know that… and I feel the same way about mine too, but Clark, this isn't about what that ring signifies. It's about keeping the Smallville Guardian's identity a secret, remember?"

Clark slowly removed the ring from his finger, hating the fact that it was getting easier to twist the ring away from his digit now than when he'd first taken it off three-months ago. He placed the wedding ring carefully on the dresser next to Lois' jewellery box.

Making his way back downstairs he used his abilities to check that the coast was clear. Their rented, gabled house was situated in a quiet neighbourhood, a few miles from the town's Sheriff office where Clark worked when not out on patrol most of the day. Quiet or not though, Lois had convinced him to use caution whenever he was called to action as, what the Smallville Ledger had dubbed his alter ego, the Smallville Guardian.

Standing just inside the kitchen door, Clark closed his eyes, took a deep, cleansing breath and concentrated. He focused his hearing, listening for sounds of distress, panic or fear. He tuned out the incessant background noise that accompanied his focus, attempting to filter conversations into categories of "normal" and "potentially life threatening or criminal". This part was never easy--occasionally a high-pitched scream of terror left no doubt that a life was in danger, but more often he'd had to resort to picking up on key words or phrases in order to get a head start on the county's disparate criminal activities.

"You really think we need that much C4 to blow the doors off?"

"We're dealing with three-foot thick, reinforced steel here, dick-weed. This isn't like poppin' a store lock, you know. Brandis, I thought you said your guy was down?"

"Call me dick-weed again and I'm shoving all of this C4 crap, right up your ass!"

Honour among thieves; a great way to start the night, Clark thought as he headed with a whoosh towards Granville's Liberty Bank.

-----

When he returned home, hours later, he found his wife asleep in their bed. Her bedside lamp was still on, and it reflected warmly against the neutral coloured walls of the room. Lois lay prone, under the duvet, the laptop she must have been working on had slipped from her lap at some point before she had turned over and was now at a tilted angle as it rested against her left leg. The device lay open, but was in power save mode.

Clark smiled affectionately at the sight of her; one arm laid out across his pillow, snoring softly and wearing one of his old Police Academy t-shirts, before backing quietly out of the room. He headed to the bathroom and shucked his all black attire and placed them in the laundry hamper before taking a quick shower.

He returned to the bedroom wrapped in nothing but the towel that was rigorously drying his hair. Once dried to his liking, Clark tossed the towel in a corner then moved to the dresser and picked up his wedding band. He fingered the gold circle briefly before returning the cool metal to his ring finger.

Picking up Lois' discarded laptop he turned it off and shut it before setting it down on his nightstand. Clark slid into bed and reached across Lois to turn off her nightlight then snuggled down next to her, adjusting the duvet around them and burying his nose in her shoulder length hair.

His arms slid around her and drew her closer to his chest, she stirred briefly as she shifted with him.

"Clark?" came her sleepy mumble.

He kissed the back of her neck tenderly. "Yeah, it's me," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Her hands caressed his where they lay around her waist. "Time is it?" she questioned, her voice still thick with sleep.

"After two," he said against the soft skin of her neck.

"How was your patrol?" she enquired rubbing her warm soles against his cool calves.

"Busy."

"And the one after work?"

"Busy too. Granville nearly had a crime spree tonight."

Lois rolled over, turning into Clark and pressing herself intimately against him. Clark sighed as her hand stroked at his bare backside and her lips danced against his throat. He turned onto his back, pulling her with him and her leg came up to nestle in between his own. He spread his legs to accommodate her knee against his stirring erection.

"You always say that," she teased, sounding fully awake.

He slid his hands under the t-shirt Lois was wearing and ran his fingers back and forth against her spine. "What about you, when did you get home?"

"Eight or nine."

"Productive day?"

"Not so much. Two leads fell through and Mayor Carpenter cancelled his interview at the last minute--something about his wife being taken ill. He probably thinks he can side step the issue of corruption if he ignores me," she joked, running her fingers through his hair and across his scalp.

"You have half the city running scared, Lois, and that can be dangerous," Clark warned.

She shifted against him to nip at his chin. "I'm a big girl, Kent, and I've been doing this a while now. I can handle myself," she assured him.

"I don't like you having to commute either," he admitted. "What if something happens and I can't get to you?"

Lois stopped her caresses to prop herself up against Clark's chest. She stared down into his blue eyes. "Does this mean you want to move to Metropolis?"

Clark's hands moved to grip Lois' derrière; squeezing her gently he shifted his hips against hers seductively and countered with a question of his own. "Why don't you write for the Ledger?"

Lois opened her thighs involuntarily to his wanton motions and hissed in pleasure when she felt his hardness jump against her belly. She slid down her husband's body and rocked her wetness against his leaking member.

"I love this town," she bit out, her head hung low and her hair fell over her shoulders. "And I love the Ledger, and I love you more than anything, but Clark," she managed before her breath hitched again, "I'm not quitting my job at the Daily Planet to be a small town reporter."

The fingers of Clark's right hand had moved to tease Lois' most sensitive flesh and she squirmed as he flicked his thumb against her clitoris and teased her opening by running his middle finger against her aroused vaginal lips.

"I've worked too long and too hard to get where I am, so please," she hissed again, her voice a mixture of sexual, seductive desire and indignation. "Don't ask me to quit 'cause it's not going to happen."

Lois fell against Clark's chest and clutched at his shoulders while she opened her thighs still further to his erotic ministrations. "I don't mind the commute," she managed to whisper as she rotated her hips on his pleasure giving fingers. "And you're a pretty decent shuttle when you can spare the time."

She kissed her way across his chest, laving his nipples with her tongue and pinching them between her teeth until she felt him moan and arch against her. "Moving to Metropolis makes sense, Clark," Lois stated between kisses ... "You could do a hell of a lot more good outside of Smallville," and nibbling and licking at his skin. "The world needs super men, Clark, and you are definitely the best I know."

Moving his fingers from the sticky warmth of Lois' centre Clark pulled her hips flush against his own. Lois snaked a hand between their bodies to wrap her fist around his erection. Stroking him repeatedly until Clark was panting and bucking into her hand.

"Lois," he moaned desperately.

"Tell me you'll think about it," Lois whispered heatedly into his chest.

"Ugh." He struggled for cohesive thought. All he wanted now was to be inside her and for her to be all around him, touching him everywhere.

He pulled her hand away from his penis and sat up, pulling Lois' thighs over and around his hips. He pulled hastily at the t-shirt she wore and Lois raised her arms to help him remove it. Clark pulled the oversize garment over her head and threw it aside. He took a moment to admire Lois' breasts, which stood high and firm, her nipples already erect from their heated foreplay.

Clark licked his lips and pulled Lois tighter to him. They kissed, open-mouthed and hungrily, moaning against each other as their desire continued to build. Clark stroked his tongue and lips across Lois' mouth and she returned the favour, her full lips and tongue exploring his as though her life depended on it.

Somehow Lois was able to maintain her focus and at one point, as they separated for air, she demanded, "Promise me."

"Okay," Clark responded weakly, barely registered the demand. Moving his mouth to her neck and shoulder, then lower, leaning Lois back a little so that he could taste the swollen flesh of her breasts.

Lois hissed an exultant sigh and whimpered in his arms as his mouth ravished her sensitive nipples. She clutched at his head, burying her hands in his hair and shifted her hips over his. Searching blindly she found his throbbing erection and placed it at her entrance.

Lois gasped as her downward motion crashed into Clark's upward thrust and they stilled, momentarily overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Cl--ark," Lois panted, her head rolling forward to rest against his chest.

Clark's head fell backwards. "God, Lo," he whispered. His head lolled forward after a moment to rest against her hair. One if his large hands rested against her hip, the other on her thigh as he slowly rotated his hips under her, and he moaned when she cried out.

Clark's slow circular rotations changed to heated thrusts as Lois ground her hips against him with unrestrained passion.

Lois drew her nails against the flesh of Clark's back, wishing she could leave the evidence of her passion for him in the form of a welt, or scratch, something that she would have the excuse of kissing better later. But there never was, just the flushing of his skin during and a little after.

She knew he'd fret for hours, worrying about the love marks she'd coax him to leave on her skin in the form of love-bites and bruises where his passion had overtaken him. She loved those marks on her, and sometimes they made her tingle for days after as she remembered his huge, strong, hands gripping her or his teeth, nipping her a little too hard.

Despite her confession that she never minded when he lost control, Clark would worry and withhold sex -- he was kidding himself of course; she knew she could have him whenever she wanted-- blaming himself for marring her skin, and missing Lois' point: that she was desperate to mark him in the exact same way.

Their cries and moans of heated passion filled the small bedroom of their rented house in Smallville. The duvet kicked aside long ago as their bodies created a maelstrom of sweaty, slippery limbs that entwined. Their kisses were as desperate, sweet, deep, tender and needy as the varying tempo their genitals were engaged in.

Clark flipped them over easily and drew Lois' legs high around his hips. Lois bit at her bottom lip at the sensation; the new angle allowing Clark to thrust more deeply into her. Clark bent his head to hers and they kissed sweetly, his hands lost in her hair, while Lois hung on to his biceps and gave herself over completely to the addictive pleasures of Clark's lovemaking.

At some point Clark knew he'd have to face the serious issues of what leaving Smallville for good might mean, but for now, this was all he wanted. This was everything he needed: Lois, loving him.

He would have his interlude, and the spectre of Metropolis and the world at large would have to wait just a little bit longer.

End

Feedback is always appreciated.

AN: This story was supposed to be part of a multi-chapter story that I basically never got around to finishing. And this particular episode was supposed to go somewhere in the middle of it, but ended up being the only part complete enough to post.

Annie