Title: What My Heart Used To Dream Of

Author: By Cyranothe2nd

Prompt: Written for 12DaysOfClois Valentine's Challenge

Rating: NC-17 for sexual content

Word Count: 3860

Betaed by the remarkable Mark Clark, the lovely Kat Shakespeare, and the incomparable Josh Donovan. Many thanks to all three of you.

Summary: A dream of Clark turns into something Lois never expects.

Spoilers: Superman Returns and Superman II.

Warning: This fic contains sex. Do not read if that offends you.

For once I can touch what my heart used to dream of, long before I knew

Someone warm like you

Would make my dreams come true. Stevie Wonder, "For Once in My Life"


Strong hands reach for her as soon as she closes the door.

"Missed me?" she asks as he pushes her roughly against the wall. And then his hot mouth descends on hers and she can't speak at all.

His tongue licks at the seam of her lips and she opens. He sweeps inside, dueling her for control of the kiss. For a moment she fights for dominance; for a moment she surges forward, but he is so much stronger and she surrenders with a low moan. His tongue strokes across hers, drawing her own tongue out to taste the salty sweetness of his mouth. His lips possess hers hungrily. His hands are unbuttoning her blouse, the silk stretching across her back as he unfastens the buttons one by one. The cold air makes her skin break out in goose flesh. She arches closer, trying to get his skin into contact with hers. He breaks the kiss, circling her with his arms and drawing her into his warmth.

She hisses out a breath as his teeth nibble her neck, moving higher to her jaw and the sensitive place behind her ear. He pauses, drawing back to look into her eyes, and the cerulean of his own has darkened to midnight.

"Do you know how beautiful you are like this, Lois?" he asks her. He takes a step back and she looks down at herself, at the wanton way her blouse gapes half-opened and how her skirt has ridden up her thighs. Her eyes move to him and the hungry look on his face makes her catch her breath.

"Come here," he says. He directs her further into the room, where a full-length mirror hangs on one wall. His hands are gentle as he turns her. He circles her waist with an arm, drawing her flush against his body. She gasps as she feels the evidence of his arousal against her back. She leans into him, wanting more contact.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" His deep voice in her ear sends shivers racing down her spine. He presses against her more firmly and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

"Look at yourself, Lois."

Lois looks. His hand loosens on her waist to lay flat against her stomach as his other hand runs up the side of her body. She watches him stroke up her body, stopping at the black lace of her bra. He runs a fingertip casually just below the line of the bra, teasing her. His lips feather kisses on her neck. His fingers are light as they move back and across, now grazing her bare collarbone, now tracing the line of her cleavage down until the lace stops him again and he skips down to circle her ribcage.

Lois strains forward, feeling her nipples tauten at the teasing. Her eyes flutter closed and her breath quickens. His hand leaves her body. "You aren't looking, Lois," he says, and his voice in her ear douses her body in heat. Her eyes flutter open and she looks into the mirror at his face. He is flushed now, too. He wants her. Her mouth parts as she breathes harder. She leans further back, allowing both of his hands to wander her body. One moves to her hip and the other further up, ghosting above her nipples.

"Please," she gasps, and with a wicked chuckle he opens the front clasp of her bra, exposing her breasts. He weighs then in both hands, running his thumbs over the nipples, making them tighten even more. Bolts of pleasure race through her body, centered on the wetness in between her legs and his hands on her breasts. He takes one nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolls it gently. She gasps and her eyes almost flutter closed, but she remembers what happened last time and forces them back open.

She studies their reflection in the mirror, her body draped half-dressed over his, the wanton flush on her face, the glazed look in her eyes. And his hands-those wonderful, clever hands- reaching under her skirt to pull her panties down. She steps out of the black lace and reaches back, steadying herself by grasping his hips. He inserts a leg between hers, pushing her thighs apart. His fingers stroke the soft skin of her thigh before reaching higher, touching the core of her.

"You're wet for me, Lois." His voice is smoke, fanning her desire higher. His finger dips inside of her and then out, raising the wetness to her lips. She parts her lips and takes his finger into her mouth, suckling her own juices from his flesh. He moans and pulls his hand away, stepping away from her. The contrast between the air and his hot body makes Lois shiver. He makes short work of her skirt, pulling it from her body with eager hands. The blouse is thrown on the floor and he pulls her back against him. She parts her legs, eager to feel his fingers in her again.

He obliges, thrusting a finger into her and stroking her clit with his thumb. He sets a quick pace, forcing her breath from her body and her mouth to spill out nonsense.

"Ohyesyesthatssogooddontstop!"

His free hand is on her breast again, flicking her nipple in time to his finger's movement, in and out of her body. She can feel her desire cresting. She is so close, so very very close.

He can feel it too. He leans closer, his mouth brushing her ear and he speaks into her very soul. "Say it, Lois. Say it now!"

"CLARK!" she screams, and comes.

Lois' eyes open slowly, her body riding out the waves of orgasm. She can feel the contented smile spread across her face until awareness hits her brain, and then she freezes.

Clark?

She opens her eyes, stretches out her hand automatically to the other side of the bed before pulling it back. Richard is not there. He hasn't been there from awhile, not since he left to take that TV job four months ago.

Lois pulls herself up from the bed, padding to the bathroom and turning on the light. She glances at her flushed face in the mirror. Clark? She shook her head at herself, wetting her hands in the sink and running them over her face. It wasn't all that unusual for her subconscious to indulge in sex dreams- especially since he had come back, but she'd never had one that was so HOT! And about Clark, of all people!

You must be getting really sex starved, Lo, she tells her reflection in the mirror. An image of herself pressed against his body, staring into her own eyes as he whispers into her ear intrudes into her mind. She shivers at the intensity of the after image before pushing it aside and padding back to the bed. She glances at the clock. It's only an hour until she has to get up. She grabs her robe and heads downstairs.

The sun is just rising over the lake as she sits on the porch swing with a soft sigh. The morning stirs around her. Birds begin morning songs and the sky lightens to pinks and blues. Lois is not really a morning person, but she and Richard used to sit out here some mornings, holding hands and drinking coffee and watching the sun rise. She feels a pang at the memory.

Their parting hadn't been bitter. He had simply mentioned, casually, over dinner, that he'd been offered a job at CNN and that he was thinking about it. Of course, the news office was in New York. She had sat there, trying to take in the news when he'd turned to look her in the eye.

"You're still in love with him, Lois," he'd said. She didn't even deny it, didn't say anything. There was nothing to say and they both knew it. That night he'd slept in the guest room, and the next week he told her he'd accepted the job.

"I'm sorry," she'd said from the bedroom door as he packed his bags.

He did not turn. "I know," he said.

Lois stares unseeingly over the water. They-she and Jason-are starting to move on. He has started to smile more, and she doesn't feel that horrible pang of guilt and despair when someone mentions Richard White anymore. It doesn't help that what he'd said about Superman was true. She is in love with him. But she will never say anything. It's better to live with a fantasy than the reality of rejection.

Lois shakes herself and stands up, going back into the house to get dressed. On her way upstairs she spots the mirror from her dream and once again the vivid image of herself, splayed naked with Clark's hand buried between her legs, edges into her mind. She shudders.

Work is sure gonna be hell today.


The Daily Planet is a hive of activity. Lois hustles inside, gripping her usual Tully's and actively avoiding looking in the direction of Clark's desk. She marches over to her own and sets her coffee and purse down. She turns her computer on and is just about to sit down when a voice says, "Hey Lois. Perry wants to see us in his office."

She turns. Clark is standing on the other side of her desk, wearing a goofy grin and holding a toasted bagel out to her. Lois flushes. It's stupid, she knows. It's not like he can read minds. Still, she feels the blood rushing into her face and she suddenly wants to sink through the floor. Clark raises his eyebrows and shakes the bagel at her.

"Thanks, Clark," she says and takes the proffered breakfast, although she suddenly doesn't feel like eating anymore. Get a grip, Lo. It was just a dream! "Can you tell Perry I'll be there in a minute? I just need to print something off."

Clark nods and moves in the direction of Perry's office. Lois watches him go. She's never noticed how well built he is. Somehow she's always thought of him as gangly, but maybe it was just the way he stood with his shoulders slumped. And those ugly old suits sure didn't help. She found herself wondering what he'd look like out of the suit…

Whoa! Okay, not going there! She chastises herself and fishes her story outline off the copier. She high-tails it into Perry's office. The editor-in-chief was in the middle of a stupendous rant.

"Why in hell would he give a speech in back-ass-nowhere? Tekoa, for God's sake! Where in hell is that?"

"What's up?" Lois asks as she sidles into the office.

Clark opens his mouth to speak, but it's Perry who answers. "The governor is giving a speech in some BFE place called Tekoa. And you and Kent are going up there for the Q and A after."

Lois nods. "Where is Tekoa?"

Perry spreads his hands but Clark pipes up, "Its up in the hills, about two hours north of Smallville."

Perry goggles at him. Lois cracks a smile. "Farm boy," she teases and a slow smile spreads over Clark's face, a smile that sends heat straight down to Lois' toes. She frowns at Clark and quickly looks away. "What time does the speech start?" she asks Perry, all business now.

"Five this evening."

"Good, we'll take my car."


"Clark, you really don't have to grab the handle every time I go around a corner."

Clark reluctantly lets go of the door handle as Lois shifts into fifth and slides into the left lane.

"Um, Lois?"

"Yeah," she says distractedly, edging the ragtop around the semi in the right lane.

"You do know that there's a car coming, right?"

Lois cranks the wheel over, sliding the car into the right lane just as the oncoming SUV passes them. The SUV's driver sounds the horn and Lois waves jauntily in the rearview mirror. She looks over at Clark, who's face has taken on a holy shit look.

"Calm down, Smallville. We didn't hit anything."

Clark shakes his head, but a small smile plays around his mouth. Lois finds herself smiling back. Clark has a nice smile- warm and open. She wonders suddenly if his hands are warm too. As if sensing her thoughts, Clark shifts and Lois' eyes dart back to the road. Gotta stop that! she chides herself.

"So, umm, have you covered the governor before," Clark asks.

"Yes, I covered the campaign and election night," Lois says. "You were still out of the country when he was elected, weren't you?"

"Um, yeah. Backpacking through-" Clark trails off, cocking his head to the side. Lois glances over, frowning at him. And then the car abruptly decelerates. Lois downshifts, giving it more gas. But it is no good. The car slows and Lois pulls off the road onto a scenic overview.

"What's wrong?" Clark asks.

"I don't know," Lois says as she pops the hood. A flood of smoke billows out from underneath. "But that can't be good."

She gets out of the car and Clark follows. The air is crisp, and the late afternoon sunlight is already fading behind the hills. Lois stares down at the tangle of hoses and engine parts, completely at a loss.

"I don't suppose you know how to fix this?" she turns to Clark hopefully. Clark eyes the inner workings of the convertible.

"Looks a little more complicated than a tractor," he says uncertainly. Lois shakes her head and pulls out her cell phone to call AAA.

"No signal," she says in disgust, snapping the phone closed.

"I could go get help. I think I saw a town back there," Clark gestures back the way they came. Lois frowns. She didn't remember seeing a town. She turns back to the winding stretch of highway they'd just ascended and tries to calculate how long it would take to walk to the nearest town. Considering that they'd been driving through nothing but hills and valleys the past hour, Lois dismisses the idea.

"No, it's too far. And it's getting dark. We should stay here, maybe try to flag down the next car that passes."

Clark nods reluctantly. Lois sighs, leaning back against the fender and looking at the valley below. She could just see Metropolis in the distance, a smudge of light against the darker hills behind it. It looked close enough to fly to. She wonders where Superman is. Probably doing something really important, not stranded on the side of the road like an idiot. She shivers. The air against her bare arms is chilly.

"We should get into the car. It's warmer," Clark spoke from beside her. Lois nods and gets into the car, wishing that she'd paid more attention when Richard had talked to her about getting the car serviced. But she'd hardly ever driven the convertible before he'd left, and she'd been so busy with her job and Jason after…

Lois slides a glance in Clark's direction. It had to be a lack of sex that had made her dream of him. It had been months. And, even before she and Richard had split up, the sex had been lackluster, if they had it at all. Looking back, that should have been a sign that the relationship was in trouble, but somehow Lois had always assumed they would just work things out.

The strange thing was that, in the six months since Richard had left, Lois had seen Superman only a handful of times. She knew he still visited Jason. She could sometimes hear them talking at night, and she knew that it was with his help that Jason had been able to bounce back from Richard's leaving so quickly. Lois wished that they could just talk, but Superman never seemed to show up unless there was some emergency, and Lois was starting to realize that that wasn't enough.

The image of Clark's face flushed with passion flares in Lois' mind's eye. She glances over at him again. He was looking at the sunset, giving her an excellent view of his profile. She's never noticed how plush his lips are, full and sensuous. His chin was a straight shot of bone, his cheekbones high and regal. Those ridiculous glasses were too big for his face, but the eyes behind him were a deep, clear blue, and his eyebrows were straight and coal black.

God, he was gorgeous!

As though sensing her regard, Clark turns and meets her eyes. A bolt of pure lust shoots straight through her and Lois feels her body getting wickedly, wonderfully hot. She has never felt like this, never fired up so quickly, not with anyone. He was her friend, her coworker. She knows what she is about to do is incredibly stupid. But she does it anyway.

Lois leans forward, terrified that he will kiss her, afraid that he might not. "Clark," she murmurs before her lips brush his. His lips are just like she imagined, warm and soft and pliant against hers. Lois wants to taste him, and her tongue licks at the seam of his lips. His mouth yields to hers and Lois moans and clutches him closer.

And then, her brain explodes.

Images rush in, too quickly to process. Niagara Falls, Clark, the Honeymoon suite, the fire. Oh God, his glasses fell into the fire and he reached in to pull them out. Clark was Superman. Clark was Superman!

Lois pulls away violently, clutching for the door handle, dizzy from the images in her head. "Lois-" She doesn't wait to hear what he has to say. She finds the handle and gets the door open, sliding out of the car. She nearly collapses on the asphalt but catches herself.

Her mind was whirling, trying to resolve the images in her head with her own memories. There was a blank spot in her mind, a gap in her memories from the time she and Clark had gone to Niagara Falls until the day after Zod was defeated. And now she knew why.

Clark had taken it away. He'd wiped her mind, he'd-

"Lois!" A hand has taken hold of her arm. She snaps to the present, realizing that she has started walking down the highway, and that Clark has stopped her. She whips around, tearing her arm from his grasp.

"Don't touch me!" she hisses. "Don't you dare even touch me!" Clark steps back as though he's been slapped, but Lois is beyond caring how he feels.

"Where you ever going to tell me?" she yells. "Was I ever supposed to find out that you're Superman?!"

"Lois," Clark starts but she holds up a hand to stop him.

"I don't want to hear it, Clark- Superman-whatever the hell your real name is! I can't be here with you." She turns and walks away. He does not follow, as she knows he will not. She gets as far as the next mile marker before her tears break free and she leans against the metal guardrail and winds her arms around herself. The tears splash down; bitter foolish tears. She doesn't sob as she did the first night without Richard. This cuts both deeper and harder.

Superman was the one man in her life she trusted implicitly, the one man who she was sure would never hurt her. And that's what made this betrayal so hideous. He'd taken her memories. He knew, the thought repeats over and over in her head. He knew all this time that he was Jason's father and he didn't say anything. And behind it, Clark is Superman. It was so obvious and yet, she's never even suspected, would have laughed if she didn't have her own memories to back it up. Clark was Jason's father. Clark was her lover. Clark…

Lois stops in her tracks. Full darkness has fallen and there is not a car in sight. She pulls out her phone. There is a signal now, and she begins to dial. Halfway through she changes her mind and closes the cell and tucks it back into her purse. She shakes her head and begins to walk back to the car.

Clark is still sitting in the car, waiting for her. He would not leave her out in the middle of nowhere, even though she now knows that he could fly into Metropolis. Somehow, that thought warms her.

She remembers her reaction when they had returned to work after Zod had been defeated.

"This is killing me," she'd said. "I'm jealous of the whole world."

He'd done it for her, Lois realizes. Clark had erased her memories so that she wouldn't feel the pain of loving a man that could never wholly be hers. And how had it been for him, to work next to a woman that he loved, a woman that he had made love to, and never be able to let on how much he loved her? Lois remembers all the casual ways she'd brushed Clark off. It must have hurt him so deeply. Enough to send him away from the planet he'd sworn to protect for five years.

Lois walks back to the car, opening the door and sliding in next to Clark. He is looking at her with trepidation, as though he still expects to be yelled at. His words spill out.

"Lois, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do. You were hurt and it was because of me and I couldn't stand it. I thought I'd done the right thing, but," he shakes his head, pain darkening his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Lois doesn't hesitate. She slides across the seat until she is pressed into his side and buries her face in his chest.

"I'm still mad," she mumbles into his shirt. "But, I'm sorry too."

"For what?" His baritone voice rumbles against her cheek.

"For driving you away. For not being strong enough to accept you. For not seeing you until now." She pulls away, looks up into the face of the man she loves. "I love you. I have always loved you. Please tell me it's not too late for us."

The look of wonder on his face sends a thrill right down to her toes. His hand cups her cheek. "It's not too late for us," Clark whispers and his mouth descends on hers.

And he shows her it isn't too late at all.