Well, this is my first story post on .
A Rabid with a kiss, please enjoy and review.
Rating: T.
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or anything, really.
When the Sun Came Out
Clark gazed down at the snapshots of a person he thought he'd spend his life with. Carefully he affixed the photo he'd been holding onto for so long onto a spot on the right corner of the page. It all seemed like eons ago when those pictures were taken. Maybe in another lifetime, he thought to himself and shut the album putting it back in its place on the shelf. A shelf which seemed to represent so many of those things from the past.
She's your past. I'm your future.
His mind returned to the day before. The heady sensation of holding Lois Lane in his arms, so tight he could feel her heart beat through their clothes. The rain pelting them mercilessly from above as the sun struggled to peek through the storm clouds.
He shuddered as he remembered the deep despair he'd felt when he'd first come across Lois in her feral state; her eyes glowing red like newly-spilt blood; her skin peeling off her face like a half-rotted corpse. If there was one thing he'd learned over the past year, it was that things changed. Friendships, love, relationships, himself. Few people remained constant and Lois was one of them. Even when his relationship with Chloe and Ollie fell apart; when he renounced all his human connections, Lois remained - principled, passionate and vibrant. The one sure thing in a sea of uncertainty and confusion.
But here, in the ruins of the bullpen, she looked at him without a shred of recognition, her mind and body enslaved by the rabid beast inside of her. He was shaken; he thought for an infinitesimal second that she was gone. Lost to him forever.
On the heels of that earth-shattering thought he stubbornly dug in his heels. He would not give up; Lois would never do that to him.
Then stay and fight.
This time he would fight. He would stay and fight to reclaim the woman he knew lay somewhere behind those crimson eyes. He wouldn't let go. Not now. Not ever.
She struggled like a mad thing, throwing her head this way and that in an effort to escape him or to attach him; snapping bloodthirsty teeth. She thrashed like a fiend, and he fought to keep hold of her, crushing her to him as the sky opened up above them and rain fell.
And then, miraculously, her body began to calm. The thrashes became uncontrollable twitches and body-wracking shudders; the horrible sound of gnashing teeth turned into quiet whimpers. Her knees seemed to buckle as the last of the virus left her, and her body finally yielded to his grasp like a loosened string as she breathed fitfully, heavily against the crook of his elbow. He held her the entire time, throwing his head back, the rain splattering on his face, washing away the nightmare that had been the last few minutes.
She turned around to face him. And even then, knowing that his plan with Dr. Hamilton and Chloe had worked and that Lois was back he was still stunned into silence by her beauty, the only word reverberating through his mind: Lois.
Large beads of water hung on her lashes and she blinked several times to clear them away as she asked, "What happened, Clark?"
He gobbled her up with his eyes like a starving man; taking every inch of her in. He touched her, hesitantly, afraid for a millisecond that she was a mirage and that hideous creature would return. Because no one can be this damn beautiful. She was incandescent, just like the sun. Her face clammy and pale, hair hanging in scraggly strands down her neck, sticking slickly across her forehead so she looked like a drowned rat - she was simply gorgeous.
"We made it," he murmured, caressing her cheek again.
He was literally reeling, his stomach queasy from the thought that he'd nearly lost her. He just wanted to keep her as close to him as he could. She laid her head on his shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck and he'd done the only thing he could do - pulled her even closer. With the warmth of her breath tickling his throat, her body pressed flush against his, the sun dappling across their bodies and taking away the gloom. An unusually strange sense of tranquility overwhelmed him. He ran his lips across her temple, as close as he could come to kissing her, inhaling the faint scent of lilies and vanilla, of Lois. Everything felt right.
Clark placed the album on the mantle as he came back to the present. He had no idea what to do with his feelings. For the first time in a really long time, that painful loneliness, that ache he'd carried around in his heart wasn't there. Something new was growing. He smiled to himself, thinking how foolish it was to over-analyze it, but for the first time he felt happy, like some awful weight had been lifted off his chest.
He looked up when he heard the front door open, knowing, before he even saw her face, who it was. Like he had conjured her from his dreams.
"Hey," Lois greeted, a warm smile on her face.
He smiled faintly, his stomach felt like it had been overrun by a swarm of demented butterflies.
"Lois," he savored the feel of her name on his tongue.
Her long, lithe legs clad in low-riding jeans; the crisp, white shirt; her hair hanging loose down her back - nope, not a trace of the monster left. She was even more beautiful today, and he wasn't sure how that was humanly possible.
He wiped his hands against his jeans and shuffled on his feet and those butterflies were doing the tango in his stomach, as she spoke, "Ah, I just came by to say thanks...and to apologize if I tried to rip your head off or anything."
A tiny smile played around his lips as he nodded slowly, drawing closer to her, helplessly drawn like a moth to light. Still searching for something to do with his fidgety hands he commented inanely, "You know - uh - you have a pretty mean left hook." Really, Kent? Of all the things you could say, Duh, Lois – you punch good. He sounded like an idiot.
Lois smiled sheepishly, chewing on her lower lip, "I don't remember any of that."
He was somewhat relieved for that. It was traumatizing enough that he had the memory of it all engraved on his mind, a life-long reminder of just how desolate he could feel if he ever lost Lois Lane.
He tuned in as Lois continued, "But I do remember seeing a whole new side of Clark Kent."
Her knowing look spoke volumes. Great, I just outted myself to my biggest fan over zombies. The moment of truth had come. She'd connected the dots. He'd been pretty lax with his powers the night before - from speeding away to put out that fire and getting her a caffeine fix in 2 seconds flat; then blowing on her steaming coffee so he could go and chase Oliver down, and then using his super-strength (albeit sparingly) to knock those zombies to the ground. And there was the mysterious manner in which he'd managed to overpower her when she was a zombie. Surprisingly, he was OK with coming clean and letting Lois in on his whole secret identity thing. It would almost be relief to finally be completely honest with her.
"Which side is that?" he asked nervously.
An almost conspiratorial smirk bloomed on her lips as she stepped closer, leaning against the counter, "I'll give you a hint - starts with 'H' and ends with 'ero'."
Clark flushed bashfully at her compliment, and felt a twinge of disappointment – it seemed that his secret was as safe as ever.
After Lois' revelation about her feelings for The Blur he'd found himself harboring jealousy. It was stupid, it was irrational; but he couldn't stifle it - a very big part of him wanted her to find something special inside of him: awkward, plaid-loving, farm boy Clark Kent.
He murmured teasingly, "I wasn't even wearing red and blue."
Lois smiled at his joke, looking him up and down, "Well you've got a long ways to go before you can do that."
He glanced at her, enjoying the way the light played across her hair, the curve of her lips as she continued, "Still, I think, we made a pretty good team."
He smiled at that, "Yeah we do."
She couldn't know just how deeply he felt that. Lois and Clark, Clark and Lois - it just fit so perfectly. He let himself get lost in her eyes as her grin widened at his answer.
She stepped closer and stated, a look of curious expectation on her face, "You never did tell me your secret."
I'm not who you think I am, I'm an alien with powers and I use those powers to save people. I'm the red blue blur, well now just the blur, it's easier to blend into the night with black on and I've traveled back in time and I've actually told you this stuff twice before, you just don't remember and - God, his secrets never ended, did they?
Anxiety and fear gripped him, and all he could manage was, "Well-ughhh."
Lois rolled her eyes at what must be his discomfort, "Relax, Smallville."
She swung her arm to punch him but he caught her wrist in mid-air, his hand moving faster than was strictly normal. He wondered again at the way he was using his powers so freely in front of her, like his body wanted to show what his mouth was too cowardly to say. He looked down at her arm, swallowing deeply.
He heard her indrawn breath at the unexpectedness of his movement and his eyes rose to meet her gaze, drowning in the deep hazel as he drew her a little closer until he could feel the heat of her body in front of his.
Her slender arm was so delicate and fragile in his hand. He could feel the furious flurry of her pulse beneath his palm; he could hear it thundering like drums in his ears. Or is that my heart? He couldn't tell the difference, all he knew was that something in the air had changed in the space of three seconds. There was a heated sense of anticipation, and an arc of electric energy shimmered between them, all centered on the spot where their skin touched. He flicked a glance at her lips, pink and lush, and he felt an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her.
"Keep the mystery," she said, her voice a little huskier than before, it slid through him like warm chocolate.
He looked into her eyes, there was something fiery coiling the hazel depths as she murmured, a faintly mocking smile on her mouth, "You need to work every last drop of it that you've got."
She tugged her arm free and strolled jauntily towards the door, stopping to glance one last time in his direction, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. He watched her shut the door and walk out onto the porch, shaking his head at Lois' inherent ability to bust his chops at the drop of a hat. Just as he turned away he caught Lois' faltering step as she staggered to hold onto the porch rail and he was beside her, holding her up, in less than the blink of an eye.
"Lois?"
He moved to stand in front of her, growing increasingly alarmed as he noticed how pale her face was; her eyes staring unfocusedly at some spot in the distance. He could hear her heart beating dangerously fast.
He gripped her shoulders gently and shook them, his voice rising in worry, "Lois? Lois, are you okay? Talk to me."
He cradled her face between his palms, checking her pupils, "Lois -"
And as quickly as she zoned out, Lois came to with a loud gasp. He moved back a little, giving her space to breathe, watching closely as her eyes skittered around feverishly, her entire body shivering like she was freezing cold.
"Lois, are you alright?"
She flinched at the sound of his voice, her eyes were dark and haunted, like she'd witnessed something singularly traumatizing. He searched her face, trying to find some kind of explanation; he ran his hands down her arms, trying to warm her up, "Lois, what just happened to you?"
Her eyes jerked up towards his before she blinked and spoke guardedly, "N-nothing, Smallville. Look – I gotta go."
He could tell she was lying. She made to walk around him but he stopped her, grabbing hold of her arm, halting her progress, "Wait-"
She yanked on her limb hard and looked up at him in frustration as he held fast, snapping out, "What? Smallville, wait for what?"
He didn't say anything, at a loss for words, and she snorted, rolling her eyes, "Figures."
Glancing pointedly at his hand on her arm she asked, "Look, Clark, you gonna let go of me any time soon?"
Clark breathed deeply, shaking his head slowly as his mind worked furiously. The hurt and miscommunication between them had built up. The coffee date, her going on a date with that guy, her nearly getting killed as a pleather-wearing Stiletto, him shutting her out the night he fought Doomsday, her wanting to see the real him, her nearly getting killed again by Metallo. And, to top it all off, he'd left her in someone else's hands when he should've stayed with her or brought her with him. He'd been running away for so long; he was sick of it. No more running, no more letting go of what he wanted.
He pulled her closer, and she tripped towards him, shock lining her expression as he finally replied with quiet conviction, "No, not ever."
Lois looked confused and indignant at his cryptic statement; intrigued in spite of herself as she spluttered, "What the he -".
The rest of her expletive-laden question was swallowed up by his lips, as he pressed his mouth on hers. It was slow, curious at first; his tongue flicking at her mouth, nibbling at the corner of her lips, begging entrance.
Lois stood motionless for a moment and he felt a second of fear as her body stiffened against him. But then her mouth opened beneath his and she tilted her head sideways to grant easier access and he nearly howled in satisfaction. No costumes, no love potions, no dreaming – he was actually kissing her and she was kissing him right back. He brought his free hand up to cup her cheek, directing the kiss as his mouth plundered hers hungrily. Wow, she was kissing him back with some serious tongue. She tasted like strawberries and the faint, bitter tang of the mocha latte she'd probably guzzled some time that morning, and something that was all Lois. He couldn't get enough of it as his mouth slanted over hers and stroked her tongue with his. He smiled when she moaned hotly against his mouth, her fingers clenching on his shoulders.
For the sake of oxygen, he let her go; tightening his grip on her waist as they both gasped for air, breath mingling. He waited for a few seconds before claiming her lips again, pushing her back against the porch rail. He wrapped both his arms around her, lifting her off the ground a little and pushing his leg in between hers to support her. Her hands crept up to his shoulders, tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, massaging the base of his scalp, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure in the back of his throat. She hooked one leg behind his and he pressed his thigh harder against her. He swore he could feel her heat, even through their jeans. Lois threw her head back with a whimper as she rubbed against him. He kissed his way along her jaw and down to her neck, tasting the furious rhythm of her pulse, grazing his teeth along the tender skin.
He leaned back up to kiss her, gently this time, suckling on her lower lip as he mumbled, "Lois," with all of his pent-up need caught in those two syllables.
At the sound of her name she stiffened and pulled back abruptly, her eyes looking at him in delayed shock. She looked like she couldn't fathom how she'd ended up in this position: her hair tousled, her lips bruised pink and swollen, her shirt askew, with and an equally disheveled Clark Kent between her knees. Shoving him out of the way, she practically flew down the stairs and stopped at the base of the porch, turning to face him, her breath still unsteady. She brought her hand to her mouth and swallowed, looking up at him with some trepidation as she started to back away, "I – I'm sorry – I – uh – I have to go. I'll – uh – talk to you later."
He frowned in consternation as she turned and beat a hasty retreat to her car, shaking her head as though she was berating herself silently. And she was strapped into her car so fast, gunning her engine and driving away in a cloud of dust so quickly, that he was sure he wasn't the only one with super-speeding abilities.
What just happened?
Minutes later, Clark still stood there wondering, his eyes tracking her car far into the distance.
He licked his lip where the taste of her still lingered. He couldn't explain it, but when he'd kissed her everything just seemed to click. It just felt right. And now that she was gone, well, he'd never felt her absence so keenly before. He saw the plume of dust behind her car about five miles from where he stood - and he hoped that she wasn't running too far or too hard because he was not prepared to give up on her. No, this time he wasn't going to let her go.