The ride back to his parents' house remained very quiet.
A hand slipped into hers across the console. Her hands still shook, and holding onto his quiet, steady strength helped make the bad dream fade.
He didn't seem to need words uttered or see the tears that had been cried when he'd been unconscious to know how terrible those minutes had been.
As soon as she put the truck in park in the drive, he opened her door from the outside.
She blinked. "You shouldn't be moving fast like that." The words came out with a thick, rough edge yet from the tears.
"I feel mostly back to normal." He held out a hand and gently took hers to exit from the truck, and guided straight into his embrace.
It felt so good to hold him. As his body softened, she buried her face against his chest and let the silent tears come. "You were dead," she breathed, only loud enough for his ears.
His hand stroked her back. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily." Then his face buried in her hair. "It's over. Don't cry," he purred.
"It's not, not until we get rid of that crystal. The whole cellar is contaminated, and you can't go in." She rested a cheek on his chest, the sound of his two heartbeats so comforting.
Just then, his phone rang. He sighed when she let go, and pulled it out of his back pocket. "It's Dr. Klein already." With a frown, he put it in speaker phone. "Hi, Dr. Klein. Lois is here too on speaker."
"Clark, whatever you do, don't get near that crystal. It's having no effect on Lois's blood, but it's tearing yours apart at a molecular level. Lois is right that it's some kind of magnetic effect. I think the crystal, during impact with the ozone, got somewhat damaged and created dust particles. Those particles got on you and caused massive, almost instantaneous cellular destruction that led to cardiac arrest."
Her eyes met his. "But, why didn't the actual crystal kill him in the cellar?"
"Because it wasn't on his skin. I think the actual crystal, if free from its own particle dust, would cause a slow, excruciating death as it tears apart cells at each tissue layer. That's why he progressed through phases—pain, collapse, unconsciousness, and respiratory distress—in the cellar. Here, he went almost straight to cardiac arrest because it was in contact with his body."
"Why would something that lethal be put in the vessel?" She met Clark's eyes, reading his hurt and confusion over why whomever had put him in the ship had tried to kill him too.
"You had life support in the ship. I think that wherever you're from, you were just as vulnerable as any human. I don't think the crystal was lethal to you there, just like it doesn't hurt Lois or I."
"How do we destroy it?" A sick feeling took hold, already knowing Dr. Klein's answer.
"I don't know yet. We go in with a magnet to clean up the cellar, but let me run some more tests. Let me see if a Geiger counter or metal detector can sense it so we know if the cellar is properly cleaned."
After getting off the phone with Dr. Klein, Clark took her hand and headed for the house.
Holding hands still hurt from the crystal, but it was too good to feel him alive to pull away.
Clark slammed to a halt and sniffed. Then he turned, his eyes slightly dilated. "Why are you in pain?"
She eased her hand free. "My palms are just a bit sore from the crystal fragments that pulled off with the magnet—"
He turned her hand over, and his eyebrows snapped together at seeing the tiny red dots. "You have blood blisters." He blew cold air over both palms cradled in his. "Lois, you should've said. I was feeling well enough to drive."
"Clark! Clark!" Martha burst out of the house and came running, with Jonathan following at a more sedate pace. She threw herself at him and patted him down. "We couldn't find you, so I called Dr. Klein—"
"Mom—"
"–and he said you'd just left. What happened? He said—
"Mom—"
Martha was in such a panic that she didn't hear him. "—something about a green crystal stopped your hearts. Where are you hurt, baby?"
She set a hand on Martha's shoulder. "He's alright now."
The woman yanked him down in a fierce hug, not seeming to care that his density caused a grunt as the air knocked the air out of herself.
"Mom, be careful." He gently hugged, letting Martha keep him hunched over and locked in a tight hug. "I'm fine now."
"You're not fine! You died!" Poor Martha burst into tears, still not letting go. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Martha leaned back and hit his shoulder, her expression fierce.
"Mom! You'll break your hand!"
"Don't you ever keep something like that from me! Do you understand me Clark Jonathan Kent? I'll tan your hide next time!" Then she yanked him down in another hug.
If poor Martha hadn't been so distressed, it would've been comical to see him let such a tiny woman scold and jerk him around.
She glanced at Jonathan, who stood back in silence and brushed at his eyes.
Clark seemed to notice at the same moment and held his arm out to his father.
Jonathan walked over and hugged Clark tight from the side being Martha didn't seem inclined to let Clark go anytime soon.
Martha lifted her head and looked at her, tears still streaming down her face. "Were you with him?"
With a nod, the tears welled at the terrible memory.
His mom held out an arm and made a little space between her and Jonathan.
She stepped in and was engulfed in the family hug. Clark's head was right near her shoulder, still trapped in Martha's hug. Not caring who saw, she brushed a kiss over his cheek.
"You're still weak," Martha fretted in the living room after hearing the whole story. She sat on his other side on the sofa with an arm linked through his, still disinclined to let him go.
"I'm almost back to normal. I'm feeling better, Mom." He sat with a plate of food on his lap.
"Eat your food," she ordered.
"Martha, food doesn't do anything for him," Jonathan reminded her from his chair. He'd remained silent until now.
She threw him a dangerous glare that only a mother could threaten when protecting her young. "It won't hurt. He needs any energy he can get."
"Actually, I'm going to go for a walk. I think it'll help being it's a sunny day." He set the plate on the coffee table and stood. Then he held out a hand to her.
Jonathan didn't react, but Martha looked surprised and hurt at being left behind.
Taking his hand, she stood. "Do you both want to come?"
Clark tensed. Maybe he needed time away from the hovering.
"I think we'll give Dr. Klein a call and see if he has ideas on how to clean up the cellar," Jonathan answered before Martha could. He gave Martha a pointed glance to keep quiet.
Martha bit her tongue.
Clark leaned down and kissed his mom's cheek. "I'm okay, Mom. It'll be good to get outside."
Then he took her hand and led the way out.
Outside, he walked around to the side of the house and leaned his back against it, closing his eyes.
"You're weaker than you let them know." She frowned and set a hand on his chest. His hearts beat a bit fast.
"I started feeling sick. I think I just need some sunlight. Mom's fretting wasn't helping."
Relaxing against the house, she rested her head on the side of his shoulder. "They're just worried. They love you very much. She wouldn't be a good mom if she didn't hover after something like that."
"I know, I just needed a break from all the stress in the room."
She let go of his hand and stepped to the side. "I probably shouldn't touch you right now so you don't lose energy reacting."
The man didn't open his eyes, and his breathing remained slightly fast. "I feel so weak. I felt better when we got home." His color was paler than a half hour ago.
"Maybe because you were in the sun for the car ride. Maybe your energy levels deplete faster in the shade until you get back to normal." Stepping before him, she tugged up his shirt.
He gave no protest as she pulled it off. "I feel like I'm going to pass out. What are you doing?" It came out breathless and weak.
"If you get energy from the sun's radiation, having as much skin exposed as possible will help." Then she knelt and pulled off his shoes and socks. She stood and touched his shoulder. "Turn so the sun hits your back. If we kiss, it might soften you enough so radiation can penetrate deeper."
"I'd need to lean on you—I'm dizzy."
"That's alright. Lean your hands on the house until you're soft enough to not crush me. I'll be able to catch you if you faint." She slipped between him and the house, helping him turn.
His forehead rested against hers, with his eyes still closed, and he leaned his hands on the house. The length of his body barely touched, not quite as soft as a human body yet but not as hard as he should be. "Lois." His breaths came shallow, as if on the verge of fainting.
Her hands buried in his hair to leave his back as exposed to sunlight as possible. "Deep breaths. Lean against me, if you need." She eased his head onto her shoulder and kissed his under his ear where it should be the most sensitive to a caress.
A sharp intake of breath, as if it surprised him.
His body began to soften, and she grabbed the belt loops of his jeans and pulled his hips closer while kissing his shoulder. "Lean so if you faint, you'll aim toward me."
Rapid, shallow pants of illness melted into deep, strong breaths of desire as his body molded against hers. His weight shifted more onto his own feet. A hand rested on the curve of her hip and gave a soft squeeze. "Lois," he whispered, his voice stronger as he lifted his head to meet her lips.
Every inch of him seemed to grow stronger. His tongue slipped past her lips as he cradled her cheek in his large hand.
The world melted away, and her arms wrapped around him.
He broke the kiss far too soon. "Lois."
Her eyes fluttered open to meet his black gaze.
His arms slowly uncoiled from around her back.
Then it dawned that her leg had wrapped around his at some point, and she pressed against him. Hopping down in embarrassment, she stepped back and ran her hands through her hair to straighten it. "Sorry, I didn't realize... Do you feel better?" It was hard to look him in the eye without burning cheeks.
With a nod, he stepped closer and took her hand. Those blue eyes slowly returned to normal. "Much. I think your idea worked. Thank you." His voice held a huskiness. He raised her hand to his lips, not breaking eye contact.
It caused a flip-flop.
"I'm going to get closer to the sun. I'll be right back," he said and slowly released her hand. Then he backed up several feet, with a gentle smile on his lips. Neither shame nor self-consciousness touched his eyes, but a very tender look.
He shot up into the sky and disappeared, followed by a loud boom a second later. The sound barrier must've broken.
Leaning back against the house with weak knees, she fanned her face. But her heart wouldn't come down from up in the clouds.
The ground shook minutes later, trailed by a gust of air. He stood inches away, his muscles slightly more defined. "Ready for that walk?"
She nodded, not yet trusting her voice.
The man leaned down and picked up his shirt. He put it on, sadly covering those glorious muscles. Then he offered his arm.
"Ow!" Her body instinctively stumbled back the moment of contact. "You're hot."
"I am?" He frowned and looked down at himself. "I must've gotten too close to the sun. Are you burned?" He suddenly held a pail of water, and his eyes dialted, as if sensing her pain. "Put your hand in."
The cold water soothed away the sting. "Thanks." When she lifted her hand out to check it, he gave a soft breath of cold air. The redness was gone, leaving behind a faint pinkness but no pain.
Then he poured a bit of the water over his own hand. It sizzled. "I'm sorry, I had no idea I got hot. Are you sure you're alright?"
She nodded.
"Spray me with the hose." He pointed to where it laid in the grass at the corner of the house.
Her eyebrows rose.
"Seriously. I'll spin dry." He nodded in encouragement.
Picking it up, she turned the nozzle on low and held it out.
He stuck his arm under, and steam billowed. An entire cloud of steam wafted up when he leaned under it. Then he straightened, as dry as bone from the water evaporating so quickly. "Come on, city girl. You can do better than that." A smile brightened his face.
Sticking her thumb over the end, water sprayed everywhere. Then she released her thumb and giggled.
The man had cool enough that water drops remained on him. He ran a hand over his wet face and cocked an eyebrow. A mischievous glint filled his eye.
"You said to spray you." The laughter bubbled up again.
He reached for the hose.
She sprayed again and ran with the hose. Spinning around to see him still in the same spot, she covered her mouth to stifle the laugh.
"Oh, this is war, city girl."
He suddenly stood toe-to-toe.
A shriek of surprise and laughter burst out.
His hand wrapped around hers on the hose, and his thumb covered the end. The hose flicked toward her belly, soaking her red shirt.
Cold water and surprise of it caused a yelp, and she jumped away.
The hose dropped to the ground.
Laughter overflowed, and she held the cold shirt out away from her stomach. "Don't you dare."
His smile grew, and he slowly reached toward the hose.
"No!" A peel of laughter, and she dove for the hose.
He snatched it and backed up, a naughty grin overcoming him.
"You're cheating! You can't spray me." She held up a finger but couldn't keep the giggles out of her voice.
The man took a step closer. "Oh, city girl, I'm the one with the hose. I'll stop cheating."
"Liar!" With a shriek of laughter, she took off in the opposite direction.
Cold water rained down. Glancing behind, she slowed and wiped wet hair out of the way. He had run out of hose and stood there with a grin. "Ooooh, who's in trouble now, country boy?"
A rich laugh flowed through the air. "I think you still are." He tossed aside the hose and held up his hands. "I promise not to go fast. Come get it before I do."
She laughed. "Yeah, right!"
"Promise." He crossed his heart. "I'll give you a ten-second start."
Inching forward, she paused to see if he was going to cheat.
"Hurry! One...two...three..."
She darted forward.
"Four, five, six,seven, eight, nine, ten!" He rushed through the numbers and ran toward her.
"No! Cheater! Cheater!" She grabbed the hose and screamed in surprise as arms wrapped around her waist from behind. The hose angled over her shoulder to get him to let go, unable to speak through the squeals.
He laughed, and his hand wrapped around hers to angle the water into the air.
"Let me go!" She curled over his arm in a hysterical fit of laughter.
The man bounced her up and down so her feet touched the ground. "Then stand up!" He shook with laughter.
"Stop bouncing me," she wheezed, clutching his arm as her legs curled up from abs being overworked with laughs.
He eased her onto her knees and ran away. Then he half hopped, half shuffling from side to side.
Struggling to get to her feet, she held her stomach. "You look like an idiot."
"Come get me. Moving targets are hard for girls."
Her mouth fell open in a loud gasp.
His eyes widened and he gasped too, his eyes sparkling in an obvious tease.
"Oh, this is war!" She charged with the hose.
He ran around the yard, never going beyond the hose length. His laughter filled the air, as if enjoying the chase and not minding that he was soaked.
The hose suddenly wrapped around her ankle when he changed direction. She gasped and looked up at him. "You got me tangled on purpose!"
Not an ounce of remorse tinted his laugh as he ran toward her.
Trying to untangle to at least be able to spray him, a shriek of giggles pierced the air as he caught around her middle and swung in a circle.
Laughter filled the air as she tried to spray him, but he set her down and darted away again.
He was nowhere in sight. The laughter faded. "Clark?"
A tap on the right shoulder.
She spun around. Nothing.
A tap on the left.
Spinning around again, nothing was there, except a distinct feeling of someone standing behind.
Bowing her head, his bare feet stood behind. He was moving right with her to stay out of sight. Flicking the hose behind and soaking her side in the process, a yelp of surprise confirmed the guilty party.
She spun around with a giggle and gasped when the hose shot him in the face. It dropped as her hands flew to her mouth. "Sorry! I didn't mean to!"
He ran a hand over his face and shook the water off his hand. The man grinned and then swiped the hose in the blink of an eye. He pelted with a full stream of water at her belly.
A scream of surprise and she spun to run. Only, an arm caught hers and spun her around to land against his chest. The hose aimed up at the sky and sent droplets raining down.
Clark didn't move as dozen of little rainbows surrounded.
The laughter faded at his intimate gaze that reached right into her soul.
He leaned down until his lips were a breath away from hers.
Her heart stumbled.
Raindrops landed on his face and trickled down to drip from the tip of his straight nose and strong chin, bringing out the blue in his eyes that began to dilate to black.
"May I kiss you?" he whispered, his voice deep and husky. "Not for medical purposes?"
She grew breathless. This had to be a dream. It was a question as innocent as him, and yet the most romantic moment.
Her fingers reached up and brushed his jaw in a feather-light touch as she rose onto her toes. Her lips brushed his, and he welcomed every moment of it in a perfect kiss.
He breathed as heavily as her when he slowed the kiss. His forehead rested against hers, his eyes still closed. "I need to stop." A kiss pressed to her forehead. "The doctor says I release a pheromone that seduces, and it'd brainwash you into going too far." He eased her head onto his chest.
"Clark–"
"Let's get you dry, and then we can go for that walk." He scooped her up and took off before there was a chance to tell him that any pheromones only built on feelings that were already there.
"It's so beautiful." She took his hand as he helped her up another steep rock on the side of a waterfall in Colorado.
"I thought you'd like a walk here more than across hayfields. I came here all the time as a teenager."
She frowned. "By yourself?"
"It gave time to think." He shrugged and jumped on top of a five-foot stone.
"Think about what?" She reached up and held on as he lifted her up.
He scooped her into his arms and jumped up another tall boulder. Then he set her down on a dirt path that finished the rest of the climb to the top. "What it would be like to be normal," he said quietly. "To fit in somewhere." He offered his hand and continued walking.
She gave a squeeze and watched as he picked a yellow wildflower. "No one fits in somewhere; they fit in with someones. It's the people, not the place."
A deep sigh escaped him as he stopped and picked a couple more white and pink flowers. "I suppose. Metropolis is the closest place that's ever felt like I belong." Then he pointed at the top of the trail.
Snow-capped mountain tops caressed the the bluest skies. The waterfall overlooked a valley of green fields and a crystal-clear lake surrounded by green trees.
A gasp escaped. "Clark, it's gorgeous. However did you find this?" She turned when he didn't answer.
He held out a small bouquet of flowers. "Lois?" A slightly nervous look crept into his eyes. "Would you like to...if you'd want, I mean, may I take you on a date?"
Her heart took off a hundred miles a minute as a blush formed. A shy smile took hold as she accepted the flowers. "I thought you only want to be friends."
The poor man looked like a deer in headlights.
She set a hand on his arm. "My answer is 'yes,' but I'm not sure I understand the sudden change of heart."
He released a shaky breath and stood a bit taller, as if some self-confidence returned. "I've been forthright with my feelings and reservations about having any kind of romantic relationship with anyone. I don't expect a long-term commitment, and I understand that I come with a lot of baggage. All I ask is for a first date. If it goes well, then a second. One step at a time. If not, we end it right away so we can remain friends and work partners."
Setting a hand on his chest, she smiled up at him. "That sounds like a good plan. Don't go falling in love with me, country boy." She winked. Movement behind him caught her eye.
A male deer crept out of the woods not even ten yards away.
"I already have," he breathed.
Her eyes whipped to him. That couldn't possibly have been heard correctly. "What?"
He pointed to the deer. "I bet that's a dad."
She blinked. "Oh." Huh. Maybe she'd been too distracted to hear him correctly the first time. "How do you know it's a father?"
"Um, well, the antlers. You see how one antler is missing some branches? He's likely battled for a female. Most bucks have mated by the time their antlers are that large." He went on with a science lesson on deer.
Leaning against his shoulder, she bumped her hip against his as he finished the lesson a few minutes later. "You were the class brain, weren't you?" A smile tugged.
The man scratched the back of his neck. "When you like to read but can finish a book in sixty seconds, you go through a lot of books."
"And just how many books have you read?"
He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Smallville and Metropolis Libraries."
Her jaw dropped. "You've read two entire libraries?"
"Well, not the entire libraries. I don't read the Reference Books or Dictionaries."
A laugh burst out. "Oh, okay, slacker."
The blush suited him in this lighting. "Would you like to watch the sunset? I'll grab us some dinner."
"Does this count as our date?" She frowned, not expecting it so fast.
Surprise flashed through his eyes. "Oh, I wasn't planning on it. Do you prefer that?"
Biting her lip in a shy smile, she shook her head.
His face lit up. "You like Chinese, right?"
"Sure. Is there a restaurant near here, though?"
The man wiggled his eyebrows. "I'll be back in five minutes."
He set down woven baskets a few minutes later that contained rice, chicken, and other foods.
She sat beside him on the log. "What restaurant has baskets?" Then her eyes widened when it dawned. "You actually went to China?"
With a shrug, he handed over a basket. "Why not get the real thing?" He placed a box of genuine Swiss chocolates on the log, along with a bottle of French wine.
"Clark, you shouldn't do such extravagant things. I'd be happy with peanut butter sandwiches."
"I know, which is why I wanted to do it. Besides, we've reason to celebrate–you saved me from that green crystal and agreed to a date." He looked around. "Oh. I must've dropped the glasses somewhere."
Her laugh stole the disappointment from his face. "We can drink out of the bottle. Maybe you dropped the glasses over Spain."
He frowned. "No, I think it was probably Hawaii. I took a shortcut coming back."
Staring at him a second, another laugh burst out. "A year ago, never would I have dreamed of having a conversation like this."
The man popped the wine bottle and handed it over with a smile.
"You're a strange one, Clark Kent." She smiled and scooted closer to lean against his shoulder. "I like it. To the unexpected." She held up the bottle.
He held up his basket of food. "To the unexpected, shared with a best friend."
Breath stilled on her lips. That meant so much more than being asked on a date. She smiled. "With a best friend." Then she gave a soft clink with him. And it hit his finger.
The bottle shattered all over their laps.
A smothered laugh snorted out. She covered her mouth but sobered when he stared at the mess in self-consciousness. Her finger grazed over his chin, with an encouraging smile. "Hey, it's okay. I'm a terrible lightweight, so it's better if I don't drink."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"
"Clark, it was an accident. I forgot I'm with the Man of Steel." She gave a soft bump to his shoulder.
His shoulders relaxed, and a tiny smile touched his lips. "Thank you, Lois."
The sun began to paint a rainbow in the sky at the end of dinner. He reclined against the log with his long legs outstretched. She set down her empty basket and relaxed against him. His arm wrapped around behind, so she rested her head on his chest.
"Are you still feeling alright?"
"Perfect," he replied softly and stroked his fingers up and down her arm.
"Aside from my car blowing up and you dying, I had fun today. I don't know that I've ever forgotten about work for that long."
"Ugh, I forgot about your car." He sighed. "Let's not talk shop tonight."
She smiled. There was no desire to work tonight anyways. "It's so beautiful here. I don't think I've ever seen such a vibrant sunset."
He pointed up at the red/pink hue. "Why do you think red sparkles and not other colors?"
"It doesn't." She frowned.
"Sure it does. Just like your shirt."
Sitting upright, she looked at him. "Do all reds sparkle to you?"
Self-consciousness flitted through his eyes. "They don't to you?" When she shook her head, he asked, "Not to anyone?"
"No, not unless they actually contain sparkles."
"Oh." The word came out flat.
"Are there other colors that seem more vibrant or different than others?" She set a hand on his leg.
He hesitated. "Do light greens glow to you?" He pointed to young leaves on a plant. "Like those?"
She shook her head.
His shoulders tensed.
"Maybe there's a reason for it. Maybe mention it to Dr. Klein next time. It doesn't matter." She relaxed against his chest and guided his arm around again.
"Lois? What if there are other things that are different that we don't know yet?"
"We'll take them as they come. They've been that way for thirty years. It doesn't change anything." Her fingers laced with his over her hip.
"Um, if things get serious, I should tell you about some physical differences...from a regular man, I mean."
Tilting her head back to look at him, she frowned. "Clark, it doesn't matter to me."
He swallowed hard and looked away.
"It bothers you, though, doesn't it? It's not the first time you've brought it up." She stroked his arm. "First and foremost, we're friends. If you want to talk about it, we can."
"Would it embarrass you?"
She sat up to be shoulder-to-shoulder and took his hand. "We're two adults and friends, and there's a medical condition that's upsetting you. I should hope we can talk about personal things if we need to."
"I don't want to scare or gross you out, if things did progress romantically. I don't expect to ever be intimate with a woman until marriage, but I'd understand if she didn't want to because of...my altered anatomy. It's not right to mislead a woman–"
"Clark, stop right there. You do not owe it to anyone to discuss this. You can't infect or harm anyone, and you certainly don't owe it to every woman you take on a date if you don't intend to be intimate that night. If you tell me this, you do it because you need a friend to talk to about it, not because you feel you owe it to me because we're going to have a date."
He seemed to chew on that minute. "Alright, then I have a counter-question: will you be honest with me if you're uncomfortable with physical contact after this?"
"Yes, but even if it does make me hesitant, which I doubt, I don't see why it would affect non-sexual contact."
The man drew deep breath and released it. Then he swallowed hard and stared at the ground, as if gathering his thoughts. "Dr. Klein thinks it's some kind of reproductive evolution that almost guarantees pregnancy, assuming the woman is fertile at the time." Another shaky breath, and he looked up at the sky for a moment. "Dr. Klein doesn't think it would be painful." His cheeks turned pink. "There's vibration and some kind of hormone that causes slight dilation in the woman. There's a very slender extension, I guess you could say, for semen to deposit directly in the womb." He looked at her long and hard. "You're freaked out."
"No...I'm just trying to process it. I was ready for something a bit morbid, like from Alien." She rubbed her forehead. A thousand questions and thoughts ran through. "Um...I'm just trying to sort my thoughts into which ones a friend would ask."
He patted her hand. "You can ask anything. I don't want you to try to figure out what ones are okay to ask."
"May I ask if there's genetic compatibility?"
"Yes. Dr. Klein ran tests, and a pregnancy wouldn't harm a woman. And it could be a normal delivery. There wouldn't be a baby ripping out of the belly or anything creepy like that. My parents said I was sickly my first year they had me, with a lot of breathing problems. Pregnancy would allow the baby to adapt to this atmosphere from the beginning. I didn't start showing much for capabilities until preschool. More developed as a teenager, and the rest are finally showing up since meeting you. The baby wouldn't be kicking during pregnancy and breaking ribs or anything creepy like in Twilight."
A small laugh of relief came out. "Well, I can't promise that some women won't be a little worried about, um, consummation hurting, but I don't think you need to be so distressed."
He hesitated a moment. "Would you be worried?"
"Well, I suppose I'd be nervous too, if a woman–"
"I mean, if you were that woman." Then he shook his head. "Forget that I said that. We haven't even gone on a date, and I'm jumping years ahead. It's been a long day. I appreciate you listening to all of this so I can get it off my chest." He stood and held down his hand. "It's getting dark. We should get back."
She set a hand on his chest to wait when he scooped her up after the picnic was cleared. "Clark?"
Those blue eyes met hers for the first time since his question.
"For the record, I'd trust you to stop if it hurt. I wouldn't be scared."
Tension melted from his shoulders under her hand. "Thank you, Lois. For the record, I want you to tell me if you ever become uncomfortable with something, even holding hands. I don't want to ever frighten you."
"You don't." It felt so natural to brush a kiss on his smooth cheek.
A genuine smile lit up his eyes. "Do you want to fly home?"
Muscles tensed. "No." That came out too fast. "I was too shocked to register it this morning with the car crash. I'm really scared of heights."
"Oh. It's okay, we won't," he cooed.
She let go of the fistfuls of his shirt that crushed in her hands.
"Any heights, or just very high?"
"No, any. I panic even in parking garage stairwells. Please, don't." Bones felt like they'd creak under the muscle tension.
"I'm only asking. I promise we won't fly. We can run again." He set her on the ground. "Here, we'll just stand here for a moment." His arms wrapped around. "You're trembling. Why are you so frightened of heights?"
"I don't know, I just always have been."
"Where would you like to go on our date?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "You're trying to distract me."
He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not." Then he winked.
It caused butterflies. "Tell me where'd you'd pick."
A tender look softened his eyes. "My first pick was to take you dancing in the stars. On a cool night, the clouds are low enough that you'd be able to breathe yet that high. The sky would be black velvet covered in diamonds above us, without any clouds in the way." The back of his fingers caressed down her cheek as he painted a mesmerizing night. His voice grew deeper and intimate. "I hope you'll one day trust me enough. I'd never let you fall, Lois." he whispered.
Knees grew weak. His chest under her hands felt so strong and safe. "Teach me to not be afraid of it," she breathed.
"Close your eyes. Focus on the sensation. We'll go to the top of a tree. Straight up will let me hold you against me, so it'll feel more secure. I won't drop you. Do you trust me?" His arms wrapped around to mold her against his hard body.
She nodded and locked her arms around his neck. "Can you still fly if you get soft?"
He nodded. "Stand on my feet so it feels more secure."
Kicking off her shoes, she stepped onto the toes of his shoes. Pressing against him, with his feet below and arms around, felt safe.
"Ready?"
Every muscle tensed. "Yes." The moment a slight tremble went through him, her eyes squeezed shut and face buried against his chest. The vibrations faded to a smooth glide. It felt like an elevator going up, but with a soft breeze.
His chest expanded in a deep breath. "Smell the fresh air. Feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. Look to your left, don't look down."
Cracking an eye open, a soft gasp escaped. All thoughts of heights fled. The sunset was parallel, a panoramic view never seen before as if very high up and looking down on the valley.
She let go with one arm to dart it under his and hold his shoulder from behind for a more unobstructed view. That reminded of the height. Keeping a cheek pressed to his chest helped feel more secure. "How high?"
"Tree tops. My feet could kick the leaves. Do you want to try higher?"
"No." Her fingers bit into his softened skin and breathing grew choppy. "Down?" Burying her face against him helped ease the panic.
"We'll go slow." A few seconds later, he said, "Lift your head—I'm going to shake. We're about ten feet."
It felt strange to feel such vibrations. They were more like tremors, and much smoother than this morning. The mistake of opening her eyes caused a wave of panic to slam. She rose onto her toes and clung to him tighter.
"Lois, we're on the ground." His grip loosened to stroke her back.
She arched against him in a panic to hold on. "You're still shaking."
"No, you're trembling. We're on the ground." His fingers combed through her hair. "It's alright. You're safe. Deep breath."
"Am I squishing your toes?" The words quivered.
"No, you can stay. I'm sorry, I didn't realize how frightened you'd be. We'll go lower next time." His arms encircled tighter again.
Slowly moving her hands down his arms, she clung to his biceps and leaned her forehead against his chest. The panic melted away, but there was a strange sense of not being able to hold him like this again. Every minute needed to be soaked up. "Clark?"
"Hm?" He sounded so content and rested a cheek atop her head.
"I have a bad feeling, like something bad is going to happen. Like, you're going to go away."
A hand stroked her hair. "No, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you either."