The ten days that passed between Lois' departure and her return visit with Jason saw quite a change come over the Kent Farm. In-between strength-training sessions designed to help restore Clark's powers to full force, he and Martha made sure to give the old homestead a thorough spring cleaning. The two of them also planned a few activities that the whole family could enjoy together, with Clark making sure to take the opportunity to make a few plans of his own when his mother was otherwise occupied. In the early evening when the work was done he would call to check in on Lois and Jason in Metropolis, informing them as to how his recovery was going (he'd only had two nightmares since she left) and inquiring about how each of their days had gone as well. It sounded like Lois was having a hard time keeping their super-kid still as the excitement over the impending vacation mounted with each passing day.
That Saturday dawned bright and early, and Clark woke up with the sun in a heightened state of anticipation for the noontime arrivals. He was so giddy he felt as if he could run to the airport to meet them, but thought better of it when he considered the logistics of running back while hiding from prying eyes, not to mention carrying two people plus luggage in tow. He swung his legs over the bed toward the window and stood up to stretch, taking his shirt off so as to better absorb the sun's restorative rays, then rubbing his bare and toned stomach. His skin was no longer pocked with purple bruises and he no longer ached when he moved, two outward indications that the physical trauma was almost behind him. In fact, the only visible sign remaining was a light pink scar on his left forearm, a souvenir from Luthor's tête-à-tête while wielding the Kryptonite knife.
Clark changed into a pair of sweatpants and a ratty long sleeve shirt from Met. U. before running his usual laps around the farm, a task that was becoming easier and easier with each day. As he ran he pictured Jason; running alongside him in the fields, playing catch with him in the yard, coloring pictures with him in the living room…before Clark knew it he was running so fast he'd nearly dug a trench around the property. Upon entering the back door after his work-out he found that his mother had breakfast all set and ready and he leaned over to kiss her cheek as she sipped her coffee. The meal passed by quietly, as each was lost in their thoughts and waited on bated breath for the arrival of their guests. Martha washed and Clark dried the dishes as the clock chimed 8:00 AM, and he zipped upstairs to shower and change clothes before coming back down into the living room. She sat there watching the news until she heard the truck's keys jingling in Clark's hand behind her.
"I'm going to head out to the airport now, Mom, I'll be back in a bit."
She put her knitting down and ignored Al Roker on the television. "But Clark, their plane isn't due to land for another four hours! Aren't you leaving just a bit early?"
"Maybe, but I can't just sit around here and twiddle my thumbs; I'll go crazy! Besides, there's nothing else to be done around here before they arrive, so…" he eyed the door anxiously.
"Ok ok, go! Don't let me keep you…" but before the words were even out of her mouth he was out the door and she heard the truck engine roar to life, "…from your family" she finished softly to herself.
The drive to Wichita took no time at all and he spent a good three hours pacing the corridors of the airport, making sure to keep his speed in check as he walked. Clark finally calmed himself down long enough to get a cup of coffee and a newspaper at one of the airport's cafes and was sitting there reading the Wichita Star when he heard Jason's voice.
"But MOOOOM, he's waiting for us!" he whined loudly from inside the plane.
She sighed. "I know, Honey, but we have to wait our turn. Other people are getting off the plane and meeting loved ones too. It'll just be a few minutes longer."
Clark heard him flop back in his seat in a huff as Lois got up to get the overhead luggage. "I still don't understand why he couldn't come get us in Metropolis," he whispered in an annoyed tone under his breath.
"JASON!" she admonished him sharply. He heard the anger in her voice and noted the increase in her heart rate, as she feared that someone might have overheard him. "We discussed this at HOME! Now stop that!" A few moments of silence went by before Lois spoke again. "Ok, it's our turn now, so take my hand…" Clark abandoned the paper and coffee and dashed over to the exit where they'd be emerging from.
Eight weeks earlier, Al Henrickson had remarked how he thought Clark would stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of the cornfields of Kansas; ironically he was half right. In amongst the corn Clark felt right at home—it was there that he was at his most natural, where he could be in his element unseen. The corn allowed him freedom of movement and also provided a thick wall of cover from prying eyes. However, it was in the midst of the busy Kansas airport terminal that Clark felt oddly out of place. He found himself towering over everyone else and he felt exposed; standing tall at 6'4" he couldn't help but be noticed by the hordes of shorter people scurrying about. But those feelings soon abated once he caught a glimpse of Lois and Jason.
He plucked the glasses out of his pocket and pushed them up onto his face before trying to catch Lois' eye. When she finally saw him her whole face lit up, and there was no mistaking that their feelings for one another had long ago moved beyond the realm of 'just friendship'. Lois was still stuck in the passenger's only section of the terminal, wading through the crowds with their son in tow, when Jason finally caught sight of Clark too.
"DADDY!!!!" he screamed, wrenching free from Lois' grip and dashing away towards Clark.
"Jas—" but before the words could even escape her lips Clark ran forward to meet him halfway and he scooped the boy up, cradling him in his arms as if he never intended to let him go. When Lois ultimately navigated her way over to them she placed a hand gently on Clark's shoulder and only then did he break contact with his son long enough to look down at her. She saw the redness in his eyes and the wet slicks down his cheeks—he had been crying.
"Hi," she said softly, reaching up on tiptoe for a welcome home kiss.
He obliged her. "Hi," he whispered back when they finally pulled apart.
"Eww gross," Jason said giggling.
"Gross? GROSS? There's nothing gross about that, you…" he tossed the boy up in the air, making him laugh even louder, and Clark couldn't contain the broad grin on his face as Jason squealed in his journey up and down in the air.
"Oh shoot, I meant to take a picture of this!" Lois said, reaching into her purse for one of her disposable cameras.
Clark caught Jason and held him, then used his free hand to tip the glasses to the end of his nose. "It's in your inside zippered pocket."
"I knew you were handy to have around," she replied coyly, pulling out the cardboard contraption. "Ok you two, ready? On the count of 3 say…"
"Excuse me," a passing pilot said, stopping behind Lois and tapping her on the shoulder. "Would you like me to take the picture so all three of you can be in it?"
She looked from the pilot to Clark and back again before replying. "Absolutely." Handing the camera over to her, Lois situated herself beside Clark while he held Jason up in the middle. All three wore the same smile.
"Is this a family reunion?" the woman asked, her face hidden behind the camera as she tried to fit them all in the frame.
"YES!" Clark, Lois and Jason responded simultaneously, just as the flash went off.
That afternoon they ate a hearty lunch on the farm, with Jason chatting away as he tried to make up for seven and a half months of lost time. When they'd finished putting the dishes in the sink Clark turned to Lois and asked with a smile, "Did you remember to bring those things from my apartment I asked you about?"
"Of course. They're upstairs in my suitcase…" she said, getting a mouthful of wind as he rushed past to retrieve them.
Martha turned to look at her after handing Jason a cookie. "What was that all abo…?" she started to ask, when Clark returned.
"Son, you might want to put that cookie down," he said.
Jason eyed the cookie, then the adults, before eying the homemade cookie again. The chocolate chips were on the verge of winning out when he asked, "Why?"
"Because I have a surprise for you out in the front yard, and you'll need both hands to use it." Clark winked at Lois who was all smiles, while Martha still wasn't let in on the joke.
The boy didn't need to be told twice and in the blink of an eye the cookie was left abandoned on the table while the back door slammed unceremoniously shut.
"Jason, your jacket!" Lois cried out to spot where he once stood.
"Don't worry, I've got him covered," Clark replied, holding his and Jason's jackets in his hand along with the unopened bag from Lois' suitcase. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the lips. "Do you have the camera ready?"
"Yes, I've got it right here." She patted her sweater pocket. "Come on, Martha, you're going to want to see this…" Lois led the elderly woman out into the hallway behind Clark where they gathered their jackets and followed him outside, waiting patiently on the front porch.
Clark stepped forward and knelt down to Jason's height as the boy came to a sudden halt in the front yard. "What's my surprise?!" he exclaimed eagerly.
"You are an impatient little man, you know that?" Clark replied with a smile and a bop on the boy's nose.
Jason scrunched his face up in concentration. "What's that mean?"
There was a mischievous twinkle in his father's eye as he replied, "It means you're just like your mother."
"Oh."
"Now Jason, you and I both know why I wasn't able to be at your birthday last year…" the child frowned at the recollection, wondering why his Daddy was bringing it up because it made him sad to think about it, "…but I did get you a birthday present, and here it is. Happy Late Birthday!!!" Clark held out the bag before him.
Jason didn't need a second invitation. He tore through the white plastic bag almost as quickly as he tore out the back door a few moments before, and Lois and Martha watched with amused grins on their faces as he put the Metropolis Meteors baseball cap on his head before trying to swing the kid-sized bat while wearing the glove in his left hand. Lois took a picture. Clark picked up his own worn glove off the ground and held the baseball inside.
"Woah there, Kiddo, one at a time! Now, do you want to practice hitting or catching first?"
"Catching!"
The smiles on both father and son's faces were so wide they threatened to encompass the rest of their features. Clark took a few steps back and gently lobbed the ball to Jason, who managed to catch it on the first go. However, he didn't realize his own strength and he sent it flying back over his father's head and halfway down the drive. Clark sprinted after the ball, caught it, and sprinted back to his original place in the front yard in the blink of an eye.
"THAT WAS SO COOL!!! CAN I DO THAT TOO?!" Jason cried out animatedly.
Clark shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? But only here, and only when it's just me, your Mom and your Grandma around, ok? Now here it comes!" He threw the ball a little further this time, almost to the front of the barn, and Jason raced off after it. The ball fell with a thud on the ground next to his feet, his coordination having been thrown off by trying to run and catch at the same time. His face fell.
"Hey now, everyone drops the ball now and again, even me. You just need to practice. Now try and aim the ball right here, directly at me."
The two of them stayed outside playing for several hours. Martha and Lois watched them for a time before retreating inside and out of the cold that the boys barely felt. Only dusk, the promise of another game tomorrow and the scent of hot chocolate brought them back indoors.
It was a little after 10 that evening and the three of them were in the living room with the end of "Shrek" playing on TV. Martha had excused herself and gone to bed an hour earlier, and Jason had fallen asleep with his head on Clark's lap shortly after his grandmother's departure. Lois sat curled into Clark's side and he had his free hand around her shoulder when the end credits rolled.
"That was cute," Clark remarked, not wanting to move to turn the tape off.
Lois laughed. "Yeah…I hope you were paying attention, because Jason will be quoting it to you before long, and he'll expect you to know it and quote back." He looked over at her smiling face and drew his arm around her a little tighter, planting a kiss in the middle of her forehead.
"I think I like this part best," he said, pulling back to get a better look at her.
"I like this part too…" she strained her neck up to lock lips with his. Their mouths collided hungrily, and Clark could feel the blood coursing through his veins as well as hear their increased heart rates beating wildly in their chests. Lois stopped nibbling on his lower lip and began kissing him softly along the jaw-line, moving tantalizingly slowly toward the hollow of his neck and making Clark moan ever so slightly.
Just then, Jason stirred on his father's lap, reminding both his parents of his presence.
He locked eyes with Lois. "Hold that thought." In one motion Clark scooped Jason up in his arms and dashed up the stairs, returning before Lois had a chance to even shift her position on the sofa. "It's a good thing we got him into his pajamas before the movie or I would've been five seconds longer. Now, where were we…?"
"Yes, where were we?" she asked seductively, raising an eyebrow at him. He turned to face her more fully.
"I think…" he cupped her cheek in his hand, leaning forward to kiss her anew. It was a passionate clash of lips and tongues that only grew more fervent each time they paused to breathe. She straddled him on the sofa in mid-kiss and began running her hands up and down his chest, exploring the torso that lay underneath his shirt. Slowly, deliberately, she teased it up and over his head. Lois hadn't had much chance to truly admire his physique before and her hands informed her that he was indeed as chiseled as his tight-fitting blue suit led everyone to believe. She also knew that while he didn't mind being shirtless he was too much of a gentleman to attempt to disrobe her, so she disengaged his hands from her back.
He wrapped his free arms along the back of the sofa as she teasingly undid the buttons on her blouse one-by-one. Clark kept his blue eyes locked on her hazel ones, watching the flush of her cheeks and admiring the way her hair fell half in front of her face, until she let the thin piece of clothing fall gently off her shoulders. All she was wearing underneath was a piece of lacy black lingerie that could hardly be termed a bra. He was about to take her in his arms anew and caress her neck with kisses when they both heard the sound of wood snap. Clark turned around to discover that in his excitement he'd inadvertently broken part of the couch's wooden frame in two with his bare hands.
The shocked expression on his face said it all. "We…we can't do this. We just, we can't do this."
Lois renewed her affection despite his protestations, trying to change his mind. "Clark, it's alright…" she said as she kissed him again, reaching a hand out for one of his only to have him draw back from her further. He absolutely refused to touch her and held his arms up in surrender, willing her off him.
"P-please…just stop."
"Ok," she said in annoyance, climbing off his lap and picking her blouse up off the floor before pulling it back on over her shoulders. She started to walk away and up the stairs in a huff.
"Lois, don't leave angry…" he started to say, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.
"Well how would you like me to leave? As you can see I'm not exactly thrilled here!"
"I know, and I'm…God I hate saying this to you all the time!" he cried out, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Lois, I'm sorry, but I don't want to hurt you!"
"If you hate apologizing all the time then stop it! And if you want to be with me then be with me! It's not that hard, Clark, it's you that makes things so difficult!"
"Me?! ME?! How do I make things difficult?! It's not like I asked to be this…this…this SUPER-CHARGED THING!"
Her anger flared violently as she crossed back over the room. "You are not a THING, Clark, you're a MAN! UGH!!!" He didn't even flinch as she shouted in his face.
"Are you alright?" he asked, listening to her rapidly beating heart. He got up from the sofa. "I'll go make you some tea, help you calm down."
"Dammit stop doing that!" she paused, still fuming. "You know what? I give up!" she started stalking off toward the stairs again.
Clark froze in place as he stood near the sofa. Give up? Give up?!?! What's that supposed to mean? "Lois…?!" he asked in a terrified high-pitched voice.
She sighed exasperatedly, mid-way up the stairs. "No, Clark, I'm not giving up on us. Despite how FRUSTRATING you are sometimes, and despite how ANNOYINGLY attentive you can be while disregarding your own needs, I still love you. In fact, that's a large part of why I love you. But I'm tired of forcing the issue of intimacy with you. I want to be with you; you know how I want to be with you, or maybe I was just imagining things back at the airport two weeks ago?
"But something is always stopping you, so I've decided here and now to stop pushing the subject. If you want to remain colleagues and joint parents with nothing else between us, then fine. If you want to become something more, then you know where to find me. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to head upstairs to bed. Good night." Lois turned and continued on up the stairs to the guest bedroom, leaving Clark alone with her ultimatum on the sofa.
