Part 2 is here ...
Lois was pacing the living room nibbling on her fingernail five minutes later when she heard the unmistakable click of the kitchen door. Turning on her heel she ran for the kitchen and encountered Clark shrugging out of his coat.
"Where have you been? It's," she paused and looked to the clock, "just ten minutes to midnight."
"Lois, I told you I needed to check on the cattle. This amount of snow could be fatal to them."
"But I looked for you and you were nowhere to be found. What cattle were you checking on? Where were they, cause they sure as hell aren't safe and sound in the barn."
"We have a cattle shed at the end of the east field, Lois. You know that." Clark wrinkled his eyebrows and looked at her earnestly. "Lois, what is it really?" He nodded his head slightly in question and expecting her to reply.
"It's just. We nearly missed the present opening."
He stepped forward and took hold of her arms. "We've still got ten minutes. Don't get all worked up." His voice was soothing but Lois was in inner turmoil and his tone didn't help.
"Worked up! Oh, you didn't just say that." She ripped herself out of his arms and turned away then strode off into the living room. Clark followed only steps behind, she could feel it. She whirled back around suddenly and encountered his chest. Bouncing off it and then looking up into his eyes she blurted out the words which terrified her. "Clark what happened out there? Were you in trouble? You were gone so long and the snow is piling up."
"Nothing happened, Lois." He shook his head and reached out to take her arms again but she stepped away.
"Don't lie to me Clark. I know the Blur was here. He had to rescue you didn't he?" She knew there were tears of worry glistening in her eyes. "I saw the trails he made and I compared them to the pictures on the news just five minutes ago. He was here. At the farm."
Lois searched Clark's eyes for some kind of indication of what he was thinking; what he might say next, but she got nothing.
"I can only think of one reason for the Blur to be here and that was a rescue."
Clark stood there mute. Lois couldn't understand why he wouldn't say anything. She turned away in frustration. "Unless," she paused in shock. "Unless he wasn't coming for a rescue. He was leaving for a rescue." She turned round, unbelievable joy showing on her face. "Or many rescues."
Clark still said nothing. He stood as immoveable as a statue and just as expressionless.
"It's you. It's always been you," she breathed out. A smile grew slowly, her lips spreading wide, and then she leapt at him planting her lips on his. She immediately realised her mistake and tried to draw away hoping to act like it was just a friendly gesture of affection but she couldn't. She was trapped as his arms had snaked around her immediately: one arm at her waist and one tangled in her hair.
Clark was diving into her mouth with his tongue and she stumbled backwards ending up on the couch. Clark followed her and landed on top. Their mouths parted and when Clark lifted his head their eyes met.
Lois woke to the most annoying pounding noise. Is Clark doing some farm chores? On Christmas morning? That's just ridiculous. I need to speak to him about that.
She swung her legs round and off the bed but when she attempted to stand the pounding noise increased and a feeling of nausea overtook her.
Oh God! It's my head. I'm never drinking wine again. Good old beer for me from now on.
She stumbled into the bathroom and flicked on the light wincing at the pain behind her eyeballs. When she braved a look up and into the mirror she was assaulted by visions of erotic kisses.
Oh no. Don't tell me I had another night full of unexplained sex dreams. What is that man doing to me? I don't think I can take this much more.
As she brushed her teeth a memory came back to her and she stilled, toothbrush sticking out of the side of her mouth.
Clark was sticking his tongue in her ear. And he was naked.
She shook her head and continued brushing. When she removed the brush and swilled out her mouth she flashed to a vision of ripping open a present.
In the shower she ran her hands over her body, lathering up the soap and she remembered other fingers trailing over her breasts.
Putting on her blouse she felt certain that Clark had ripped it off her last night but when she checked the buttons they were all present.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to focus her thoughts. She remembered rambling on to the Christmas Angel, then … she'd fallen asleep and dreamt of Clark ravaging her. She groaned.
I have to go downstairs and look him in the eye completely sober now … complete with regretful hangover … and try not to remember what I imagined it was like to let him …
She stood and pulled on her jeans and then tumbled back onto the bed when she had an overwhelming memory of Clark pushing her down onto the couch. She lay there and let it overtake her.
Clark gazed into her eyes. "You really think I'm the Blur, Lois. That's ridiculous." But she could tell there was no fire in his voice, no real attempt at convincing her.
"Of course you are, Clark. Who else would be so selfless and honourable and caring? Only you." She smiled up at him and he smiled back down at her then his mouth descended.
As they continued to taste each other's lips Lois felt Clark's hand travelling down her arm. A sense of déjà-vu overtook her. No, don't tell me this is another dream and I never woke up. But his touch was so real and the fire growing in her chest was ten times more intense than the earlier dream. It must be real.
His fingers brushed her breast as before and Lois started to wonder if her dream had actually been a premonition. Clark shifted his weight and she felt him fumbling with her buttons. Just tear them off Clark. Just rip my shirt open, she thought.
Lois knew they were nearing the point of no return but a gentle chiming noise brought them out of their hazy desire. Turning to look at the clock Lois felt her heart jump. Midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Lois," came a quiet and serious voice next to her ear. She leant into the warm breath and his lips met her cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Clark." She sighed, feeling blissful then, suddenly, shot up and pushed Clark away. "Presents. We have to open them now." Leaving behind a confused, dazed and a slightly frustrated Clark she rushed to the kitchen and grabbed her present to Clark then raced back.
He hadn't moved from his position on the couch. She dropped herself next to him and passed the gift over. "Here you go Smallville. Hope you find it useful."
"Gosh that was an intense and detailed dream, Lois." She levered herself up off the bed and shuffled back to the end then slid her feet into some slippers. As she slowly descended the stairs she began to wonder what really happened the previous night. Her only memory of opening the presents was the 'dream' version. Did they even open them? What time did Clark come back? Was he the one to carry her up to bed?
So many questions. Well, he'll just have to be prepared for the 'third degree' … or is the 'Spanish Inquisition' more appropriate?
She passed the opening to the living room and paused to look in. Somehow the Angel on top of the tree seemed to be grinning at her. "Do you know something I don't?" she asked quietly, narrowing her eyes to peer at the Angel. As she moved off she noticed wrapping paper strewn around the room, torn into tiny pieces.
So we did open them? Why can't I remember it?
She walked forward and grabbed a handful of paper.
"So, how fast could you unwrap your present then? Let's see you do it?" she challenged. Clark looked at her as if weighing up her words carefully then his hands suddenly blurred. A dark red box was revealed on his lap and as Clark carefully slid up the lid Lois felt something land on her head. She looked up to see the wrapping paper raining down on her in tiny snowflake sized pieces.
Lois shook her head to clear the dream not caring that it still hurt. She turned away and headed for the kitchen where she was sure she would find Clark and, more importantly, a coffee.
Clark sat at the table in the kitchen. He could hear Lois moving around upstairs. He didn't have much time to decide now. She'd gone to bed rambling about dreaming and alternating between thinking the evening had been a dream and then stating that she was so glad it most definitely wasn't. He knew she'd been drunk, but also, she'd been surprisingly astute; her deductive powers hadn't failed her when she seen the trials he'd left due to superspeed. When she'd launched herself at him he'd surrendered immediately and the weight of his secret had lifted allowing him to be free. A giddy mood fell over him at the feel of Lois in his arms and when she challenged him on his powers he'd reacted with a show of boyish pride, mixed with a little romantic tinge.
As she got closer, now on the stairs, he felt his heart-rate increasing. Come on, Clark. Decide. Do you tell her the truth or lead her to think it was a dream?
All the excuses of year after year flooded his brain. People who know are at risk. They leave, they can't cope and it changes their life. Even those who don't know, but strive to. Knowing the truth will destroy her life and I can't do that to her.
He heard her pause in the living room. "Do you know something I don't?" Who is she talking too? Clark pondered over the phrase. She sounded confused. Maybe she didn't remember fully. Maybe it was all jumbled in her memory. That would make it easier to convince her it was a dream. Clark felt a sharp pain pierce his heart. But then you lose last night. You lose that Lois. He steeled his face to keep from succumbing to despair. Choose, Clark. Decide. Truth or dream.
He listened as footsteps came closer and he turned to see Lois walk into the kitchen. Seeing her face he instantly came to his decision.
So I left the choice about Clark's decision up to the person that this gift was for. Come back tomorrow to see the result.
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