Interlude
Title: Votive
Author: Marcy (DHCgirl)
Rating: PG
Content: Clois
Summary: Lois and Clark. Candles. Various stages of undress.
Spoilers: The Future Tense-verse
Disclaimer: No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Prologue, Kryptonsite, DTS, My Site; anyone else, just drop me a note.
Notes: This is NOT a part of Future Tense. If you are archiving my fic, please don't put this as chapter 3. It's a separate entity altogether.
That said - it's definitely "inspired by." So many people commented about liking to see the scene that Future!Lois alludes to about the exploding light and the barn on fire that I thought I'd write it. The next REAL part of Future Tense is on its way. I tried not to spend too much time on this one - I'm easily side-tracked.
Dedicated to Chumpy - She made me awesome Durance clips and I promised I'd show this to her early, and wasn't able to get it done. I'll give you FT spoilers if ya like.
Feedback: Like it? Leave it. Always appreciated.
It was my turn to decide
I knew this was our time
No one else will have me like you do
No one else will have me, only you
You'll sit alone forever
If you wait for the right time
What are you hoping for?
I'm here I'm now I'm ready
Holding on tight
Don't give away the end
The one thing that stays mine
- Jimmy Eat World
He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the light.
Old, corroding clapboards creaked a symphony beneath their feet as they bounded up the stairs and towards the loft's large, bay window.
"Quick," he instructed, breathless. His grip tightened. "We'll miss it."
She did her best to keep up. He was faster than she thought.
He helped her with her balance as she navigated the window's ledge, easing her way down and swinging her feet over the side. He plopped down beside her and dangled his legs, knocking the thin stilettos of her black heels with the toe of his boot. She shot him a look, and he glanced away. A blush crept up his cheekbones and betrayed his look of innocence.
He motioned back out to the Kent farm, and the fields of corn swathed in the misty orange gloaming. The last bit of sunlight peaked above the horizon, like a copper penny lopped off at the top. Lois watched the last few moments of its reluctant decent as it sunk beneath the hills and out of sight.
"Happy? We made it."
Clark frowned. "For, like, two seconds."
Lois sighed. "I appreciate the romance factor. I do. But please tell me we didn't break off dinner early, run three red lights, marathon it through pens of livestock, and sprint to the finish just to have you pout."
"I should have planned better..."
"The thing about sunsets? They happen every day."
Clark looked down at his hands. "I just wanted tonight to be special," he said, his head dropping.
Lois leaned in and brushed his cheek with a soft kiss. "It was," she argued, softly.
He broke into a sudden smile that lit his whole face like the absent sun. It had been a jolt - a confidence booster. His fingers twitched in his lap before his hand slowly snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. She let out a breath of air - a long, contented sigh - and rested her head on his shoulder.
It was times like these that Lois thought it hard to believe she had once found this town to be entirely alien. It wasn't too long ago that she had put on her big city blinders and dismissed it as backwards and provincial. Sure, she still didn't fully get the rise-at-the-crack-of-dawn mentality, and crop rotation remained a mystery, but the big picture things were different. Somewhere between her hundredth condescending glance and her thousandth scoff, when she was entirely unprepared for it to happen, Smallville had snuck into her heart.
Now she took it all in. Sights, sounds, colors; the beautiful minutia of the Kent family farm.
She gave them her attention, her senses' deep consideration, and when they rushed in, assaulting her with sensations she had been without for so long it was scary and real and blissfully dizzying.
She had always hated to stand still. Attachments of any kind had felt like a pair of cement shoes on her feet as she struggled to keep her head above water. When you devote your time to ducking permanence, pulling up roots before they have a chance to set, you begin to depend on change.
Lois had spent her life running and because of it she felt her safest with the wind on her back and the darkness wrapped around her.
That was, at least, until she met Clark Kent.
The closer they had gotten, and the more time the two clocked on the farm, the more she felt those desires to cut ties slip away. If anything, she wanted to spend more time there. It's partly why she had insisted that they go back that the weekend for their date.
Everything about the place had become comforting, like an old friend. Like a safe house.
Like a home.
After a long silence, Lois spoke up. "Not to be a buzz kill, but we both have class tomorrow," she reminded him, immediately regretting that she had.
Behind his glasses, Clark was wide-eyed. "You're telling me that Lois Lane is actually concerned about her attendance record?"
Lois shrugged. "No. But you are."
She felt his chest rumble as he laughed. "Touche," he conceded with a smile.
She reluctantly pulled away, untangling herself from his arms, and pushed herself to her feet.
"Alright, back to the real world," she said, ruefully. She took the time to straiten out her blouse as she waited for him to follow.
Clark dug in his heels. "Do we have to?"
Lois grabbed his arm and pulled. "Come on, Smallville."
He groaned as he rose, resisting just enough to make her work for it. She braced herself and gave one final yank. Caught off guard, it kicked him off balance and he stumbled forward, colliding into her.
She lifted her head and met his eyes, watching as they flickered with desire. He reached out slowly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
As they stood draped in silence, she was positive that he was going to kiss her.
Instead, he looked just beyond her.
SNAP.FIZZ. CRACK.
Lois whirled around to catch the violent eruption of the light above them. White sparks rained down like confetti, flickering and dying out.
"What the hell just happened?" She set her hands on her hips and waited for his response.
"The lightbulb. It went out."
She looked down. The moon cast just enough light to reveal the millions of tiny glass splinters on the ground. "It exploded," she corrected, stunned.
"It's one of those generic brands," he explained quickly. "Really undependable."
She eyed him for a beat. Two. Three.
"Well, great." She sighed. Talk about a mood killer. "I guess we're about to answer the age old question; how many Met-U coeds does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"
She began to walk towards the closet where she knew Martha kept the odds and ends of the house, when his hand caught her arm.
"No. I have an idea."
Clark motioned for her to stay put before jogging over to the opposite side of the loft. He bent down and reached beneath the couch. A second later he had pulled out a large, tan box.
Lois quirked an eyebrow. "Your idea is...shoes?"
"No," he corrected, opening the box and angling it her way. "Candles."
He smirked triumphantly as he passed her.
She followed in tow. "Wait. Here." Lois felt around her pockets for her lighter. She had quit smoking years ago, but kept it on her out of habit. "You can use my -- "
When he turned back to her, his hands were clutching two brightly lit candles.
"Or not."
He shrugged, anticipating her question. "I had some matches on me."
"Oh, really?"
He simply nodded, using the two candles to light the ones he had lined along the balustrade.
"Well-timed lightbulb pyrotechnics. Convenient matchbooks." Lois crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, Smallville, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."
The flickering flames revealed his ghost of a smile. "You think I planned all this?"
"Yeah," she said, taking the two votives from his hands and setting them behind him. She rocked up on her toes, and positioned herself dangerously close to his ear before whispering, "And for the record, the effort was entirely unnecessary."
She grabbed his collar and brought his lips crashing down to hers. They stumbled back into the bannister, Clark's back making a loud thud as it hit the wood. She mumbled an apology against his mouth and pulled him towards her.
Her fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, and she unfastened them with precision. She pushed the fabric back over his broad shoulders, and down his arms. He took it from there, shaking out of the sleeves and letting it fall. She grabbed her blouse and pulled it over her head, revealing the black satin bra beneath. Dangling the shirt beside her, she added it to the sloppy pile on the floor.
Clark slowed.
"You're beautiful." His voice was warm and wrapped her like a blanket.
She laughed off his compliment and drew him back in.
After all, they'd had years of foreplay.
They moved to the bed, a tangle of limbs. Clark lowered her to the mattress and gently settled his weight down on top of her. Lois reached behind him and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head. He maneuvered out of it quickly, and she tossed it behind them.
Her heart beat a hurried tattoo against her chest, while his pounded back.
An echo.
He trailed kisses down her jaw line, before finally settling into the crook of her neck. She moaned softly and ran a rough set of hands through his already tousled hair.
Lois had been alone for so long, but Clark had changed that. She pulled him closer, deeper, his kisses like redemption. Heat churned in her stomach - and new emotions burned through her, real and powerful.
She was on fire.
No.
Wait.
Something was on fire.
"Clark? I think something's burning."
She craned the neck he was still nibbling on to see over his shoulder. Behind the bannister the tall stacks of hay were crackling with fire. Dammit, the candles...
"Oh my god!"
She placed a set of firm hands on his chest and shoved him backwards, sending him hurtling towards the end of the bed. He gaped at her, stunned. She pointed a violent finger behind him. "Look!" she instructed.
He looked back and tensed. "We need to get out of here."
Lois didn't need to be told twice, jumping to her feet and setting off on a sprint. She eased down the steps, her back pressed against the railing as the flames jumped the bales and nipped at her skin.
Her mind raced as she considered her small list of options. She dropped to a knee and began to sweep up small piles of dirt. She grabbed two fist-fulls and tossed them into the fire. It flared back, mocking her efforts.
She hurled another.
"What are you doing?" Clark yelled from the top of the stairs. She had to squint to see him. In the smoke he was a blur.
"I don't know!" she admitted, frantically. She tossed some more dirt onto the flames. "It was the only thing I could think of!"
"Lois, go to the house and get the fire extinguisher!"
She scoffed. "And you'll be doing what? Roasting marshmallows?"
"I'm gonna grab the big canvas tarp and try to smother it."
She hesitated. "Clark --"
"Go!"
She was halfway to the house when she stopped dead. She cast a worried look back to the barn, which flickered brightly under the black sky.
She turned to the Kent's house, willing her feet to move in that direction. He had asked her to go. She was supposed to go...
Lois shook her head. Well, screw that. She wasn't going to just flee like some damsel-in-distress while her boyfriend became a charcoal briquette.
She was tired of running.
Lois rushed back through the barn doors, and was immediately hit by the temperature shift. The once smoldering barn was now freezer-cold, like a meat locker.
She coughed as the smoke billowed and swirled around her. "Clark?" When it cleared, she found Clark right where she had left him. On the steps. Hands empty.
She looked back and forth, from Clark to the black-scorched bales of hay.
"Where's the tarp?"
He looked at her, dazed. After a moment he laughed nervously. "Lois, I - um -- "
"What on earth is going on in here?!?"
"Dad!" Clark yelped, his voice jumping an octave.
Lois turned to find his very angry father framed in the doorway. Her hands slid slowly up to her shoulders, crisscrossing her chest. Flashes of black satin still peaked through.
"Hey, Mr. Kent."
She watched as he assessed the damage with a deep frown etched into his features. He pulled a chunk out of one of the still-smoking hay bales. "You're lucky you two weren't hurt."
And he was right. The flames had made a quick job of half the lower barn, and could have easily taken them both too. Yet still she had come back - loyalty to Clark Kent like an invisible tether.
It was then that something occurred to Lois.
She had been willing to risk it all for him.
And she'd do it again.
