Disclaimer: I am not making any money out of this and copyright infringement is not intended.
Chapter Eight
Housebroken
Breakfast was a totally different matter.
The atmosphere felt as if they were not talking about the possibility of doomsday just minutes ago.
The smell of freshly baked bread coming straight from the oven, the smoky aroma of crisply cooked bacon and the warm feeling of closeness, the bond of a simple family, was a totally new experience for her.
With observant eyes she noticed that Jonathan, the patriarchal figure in the family, sat in the center like a king with his wife, Martha, on his right and his son on his left. She, on the other hand, was seated beside Clark and was the image of docility with hands on her lap, though very deep inside she was trying hard to contain herself from snatching a piece to taste that very scrumptious smelling meat. Then she heard something about saying grace and all three then closed their eyes and bowed their heads in an attempt to communicate with their own deity.
After the short prayer, Clark offered the needed assistance by placing slices of warm bread, several pieces of bacon and a serving of scrambled egg on her empty plate while mentioning what they are called one by one. Then holding up a fork, he showed her how to eat.
Once or twice the food managed to escape back to the safety of the plate and she was keeping a tight rein on her temper from using her bare hands to grab them. But with added patience, and Clark's gentle urging, she slowly learned to master the pointy silverware. Her warrior upbringing also made a mental note that the small piece of stainless steel could also be a weapon if used properly.
And…then came coffee.
For the briefest of moments Martha walked to the counter and produced a transparent pot filled with dark brown liquid. Then she poured it in each of their mugs. The smell was simply intoxicating. Never minding the thick steam that was coming out of the mug, with eager hands she grabbed the large cup and took big gulps of the strange liquid.
It tasted sharp and bitter. And it was scalding hot. And she liked it.
All three looked at her in amazement as she finished in a few seconds. Seeing the red tint on her cheeks because of the temperature of what she just consumed, Clark laughed and reminded her to take small and slow sips next time. She smiled and agreed before asking for another cup.
After the meal and during her third cup, Clark excused himself while Jonathan retreated to the farm. She stayed with Martha in the kitchen and took advantage of the opportunity.
"I want to apologize, Martha."
Martha was surprised at the apology. "For what?"
"For telling you that you are not his mother."
Something was different now with her, Martha observed. She looked more human in her son's clothing. "It's okay." Martha already forgot about the incident. "What you said was true anyway."
"But it's not my place to say it to you. I am deeply sorry."
Martha noticed that while she was apologizing, a hand was keeping the jogging pants in place. She had to suppress the sudden need to laugh and approached the other woman instead. "Here…let me help you with that." She tied the lose strings together to keep the pants from falling. "I thought Clark helped you with these."
"He did. But…it fell away."
Martha finally laughed. "Men."
The expression reminded Diana of her own mother and the memory made her smile. "You have lovely flowers." She noticed the beautiful centerpiece.
"Well thank you."
"They go very deliciously with roasted calf."
"Really?" Martha thought it was a little weird.
Diana smiled again. "It was a joke."
Martha knew this woman, this stranger, was learning quickly from her son. "Clark is teaching you how to joke." She looked at the beautiful face and thought, like any mother would, how this woman was well suited for her son. "If you want, you can take a look around, make yourself comfortable while waiting for him."
"Are you sure you don't want me to help you around here?"
"There are so many things to learn other than household chores." Martha smiled. "Now, go."
And she did leave the kitchen to linger awhile in the living room, looking again at the pictures, smiling at each of them. And, after admiring the ornaments that adorned the inside of the cozy house, after browsing through the stack of magazines, then wondering what a television set was, she remembered the direction to Clark's bedroom to ask him about it.
Not bothering to knock, she entered the familiar, small and unkempt bedroom. She was looking for something interesting that might capture her interest when she heard the sound of running water and a male voice singing from inside the partially open door to her right. Leaving an old issue of a magazine on the bed, she walked over to the bathroom and pushing the door open she could see a faint outline of Clark's form through the translucent shower curtain while he sang something that she thought sounded ridiculous. With another bout of curiosity she walked towards the shower and with one yank was able to tear half the plastic curtain from the horizontal curtain pole.
For a while, Clark did not know what was happening through the bubbles and foam all over his face. A swift wipe and he could see with horror that she was studying his nude body. And with speed faster than light, he covered himself with the partially torn curtain.
"Diana!" He gasped. "What are you doing here?"
"Martha said I can take a look around," she answered with utmost innocence. "So I looked around."
"Look around somewhere else," he hissed.
"What's wrong with looking around here?"
"I am taking a bath!"
"So?"
"It's…private!"
"Not in Themyscira. My sisters and I sometimes bathe together."
"Well…this is not Themys…whatever."
She took a quick peek inside the shower stall. "Do you want me to bathe you?"
It was offered in innocence, but he was, after all, a male and she was a very beautiful female and the mental image of her bathing him…He shook the image off and hugged the plastic closer to him as she looked.
"No, thank you." He grabbed the towel that was thankfully hanging nearby and wrapped it on the lower half of his body. He stepped out of the shower, and the bathroom completely, not caring if he nearly slipped and was making puddles as he crossed the room. "Mom! Mother!" He yelled from the partially open door of his bedroom.
On her part, she was studying his half naked physique and noted that he was like one of the statues she had seen once. He had a perfectly sculpted body. She was just at a loss on why he was clinging on to the dark blue towel for dear life.
While waiting for his mother to arrive he turned and became more conscious under her scrutiny as if his body was the most interesting object she had ever seen. But then again, when he thought of it, she was from an island full of women and it was natural for her to react this way. But still, it was a little…uncomfortable. He immediately returned to the bathroom, bracing his body against the door to keep her out.
"What's wrong here?"
He peeked from inside the bathroom and gestured with his eyes. "Mom…Diana, she's…"
"He would not let me in." Her tone was almost childish.
Martha's eyes tried to hide the amusement. "Diana…around here…we don't watch men bathe. Because there's something they don't want us to see." She took Diana's hand. "Why don't we just…have a big bowl of ice cream?"
"It's too early for ice cream," Clark commented.
"Ice cream?"
"Yes…one of the yummiest things ever invented."
Before the door of his bedroom closed he could hear his mom enumerate the different flavors. With a sigh, he returned to the shower after locking the door, just in case she returned. As if she could not break the door with her bare hands.
He shook his head. Thank heavens he did not have a sister.
The rest of the morning was spent with Clark acquainting her with the different parts of the house, the household items and appliances. He also had to answer endless questions before they finally retreated to the living room to watch television just before they helped, or rather bothered, Martha with preparing lunch.
"This…is a toothpaste, a toothbrush, dental floss, mouthwash…" He referred to each item by picking it up then placing it back where it belonged. "You use them in the morning, after meals…and before going to bed." He closed the medicine cabinet and two faces looked back at him in the rectangular mirror.
Her face wore a question. "How?"
Sighing to himself, he opened the medicine cabinet again and demonstrated to her how he flossed, brushed his teeth and gargled mouthwash with her watching his every move. "That is how." He wiped his face with the towel that hung on his left side.
"Too much fuss about dental hygiene," she complained after playing with the faucet.
He looked at her reflection. "Easy for you to say…with your perfect teeth." And, not to mention, everything else, he added in his mind while she turned away to look at the beige toilet bowl.
"What's this for?"
"That one's for…"
"Washing the foot?"
"No!" He immediately stopped her when she abruptly lifted her right foot to place inside the circular opening.
She smiled at his expression. "I know what it's for. It's used when you have to urinate or move your bowels," she smiled proudly at him. "We do research, remember?"
Teaching her how to joke seemed to have backfired on him. "Why did you seem to forget telling me that fact?"
"You did not ask."
If only she did not have the most innocent eyes…He shook his head. Babysitting an Amazon was starting to take its toll on his nerves and he made sure everything in the bathroom was in order before he followed her outside. She appeared to be busy inspecting the contents of his cabinet."What's this?" She abruptly turned and held up a pair of red boxers in his face.
He immediately snatched the underwear. "This…is a personal item of clothing." He stuck the small fabric with the rest of his clothes. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to mess with other people's things?"
"In Themyscira, we don't mess with other people's things."
"Then why are you messing with mine?" He moved closer, his voice rising slightly.
She moved threateningly forward. "This is not Themyscira."
"Correct!" He exclaimed to emphasize a point. "This is my room. You have no---"
She placed her hands on her hips. "I was just putting your underwear back in your cabinet."
"Well you…" He checked himself and remembered leaving the underwear by the bed. She was just trying to clean up. "Oh…"
Her face wore a very smug expression. "You know…you should not be too quick to judge."
This was the only time he was made aware of their proximity to each other that his nose was nearly touching the tip of hers and her lips was just inches away.
"Sorry." He turned embarrassingly away. "Lets move on to another lesson."
"What?"
"Dance."
"Dance?"
"You know…move one's body when music is playing." He walked out of his bedroom while she closely followed behind.
"I know what dance means," she said behind his back as they climbed down the stairs. "Why do I have to learn it?"
He faced her when they reached the living room. "Because we are going to a party tonight, remember?"
"And I have to dance at that party?" There was a frown in her face.
"Yes."
"With whom?"
"Me."
"Just you?" The idea of dancing with men other than him was suddenly unappealing. And it did not seem proper.
"Well…" He could very well say yes but that meant guarding her all the night since he highly doubted the fact that other men would be able to restrain themselves and not fight over the chance to dance with her. And not telling her beforehand would be trouble, big trouble. "With others too."
"Other…men?" The way she spoke of the word was the same as if she spoke of a lesser being. And her tone was starting to rise.
"Possibly." You bet, one hundred percent, he mentioned to himself.
"Then…I don't think I want to go to the party anymore." Like a child in a stubborn display, she crossed her arms over her chest.
He almost quoted what she said earlier, about agreeing to accompany him. But he knew in her present confrontational mood he was not going to make headway. It was time to take a different approach. He placed his hands in his pockets and sighed very audibly so that she could feel the regret in him.
"Well…if that's how you feel…" He feigned disappointment and slowly turned away.
Shifting her weight from her right to her left foot in indecisiveness, she argued with herself. It was such a waste to pass the chance, the opportunity to learn more of life outside her world. She finally sighed. "Okay…"
"Okay what?" He turned and noticed that she was biting her lower lip.
It was refreshing to think that the woman who barged into their house in the wee hours of the morning, demanding this and that, looking ready to injure anyone who dared oppose her, was the same woman who was now standing close to him, the same woman who looked totally vulnerable when torn between what to do. And she did not even try to conceal her indecision, the conflict she was feeling at the moment. It seemed that she looked suddenly so young and…unsure.
And he felt the overwhelming need to protect her.
"Diana…" He stared with a serious voice. "I will protect you. You don't have to worry about anything."
She could easily answer that I can very well take care of myself. But with this man, hearing those words was a comfort.
"Okay…Teach me how to dance."
With a satisfied smile he moved a few feet away to the seldom-used stereo and put on a selection of love songs. But before he turned to her again, a realization hit him. She was an Amazon, and he was going to teach her to slow dance with him.
Good luck, Kent!
For security purposes, he moved the furniture away just in case.
After securing the area he moved towards her with tentative steps. A few, awkward seconds ticked by as he stood facing her while she waited for him to move.
He was mentally scratching his head again.
Her bright blue eyes waited for his action.
He wiped his hands on the hips of his jeans.
Her elegant brows rose to offer him a silent question.
He finally took a deep breath. "Well…there's nothing much into this kind of dance. You just have to…"
He raised his hands to touch her arms.
On instinct she moved her arms away.
He moved forward again.
She moved away once more and this time glared at him.
"Diana…"
"What?"
"How can I teach…you when you look at me like that?" His hands were back in his pockets.
"Like what?"
"Like this." He imitated her earlier expression and glared at her. "Every time I move close, you look ready to inflict bodily harm on me."
She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. Just understand that…I've never been touched by a man before."
He looked embarrassed when it sounded like he was going to do something more than teach her how to dance. But a curious expression settled on his face when her cheeks suddenly had the slightest hue of pink.
She was blushing.
It was like a miracle…an Amazon, blushing!
"What is it?"
She remembered the encounter with the strange man last night, the man who…felt her. "I forgot. I've been…touched by a man before."
"What?" He looked incredulous. "Where? When?"
She felt self conscious. "The other night…when I was returning a book we…borrowed to learn…" She recalled the events. "Out of nowhere, this man…he was dressed in black and his face I can't see because of a mask…he was there, as if guarding the museum."
He considered her statement. "And…he assaulted you?"
"No…" Her eyes were far away. "He thought I was a thief. I was the one who assaulted him. And we got into a fight." She remembered he was quite an adversary. "He fought good. Until…"
"You…what did you do?" He suddenly appeared to be alarmed of what she did.
"I did not kill him of course," she answered his doubt. "He was distracted when he discovered I am a woman, after…feeling my breast."
Lucky man! He could not help but think.
"I cut his skin to break free."
Ouch!
"But that was about it." She sighed. "Now…can we continue?"
"Promise you won't tear off my arm?" He joked.
In an answer she tentatively moved both her hands and, as if his skin would burn her, gingerly touched his arms. "Promise."
Acting as if she was very fragile it was his turn to touch her, to slowly place her hands on his shoulders. "Now…I'm going to put my hands on your waist. Don't kill me for it okay."
She laughed. "Okay."
With eyes never leaving hers, he felt her tense for a while when his hands settled on the curve of her slender waist. For another few seconds he did not dare move giving her enough time to become accustomed to the warm feel of his palms. And when he felt that the time was right, he inched his body closer.
Their faces were only inches away from each other. "Now, move with me."
He timed his movements to the slow tempo of the music and, as told, she moved with him, swaying slowly from the left then to the right, his blue eyes smiling back at her in congratulatory silence while her eyes smiled back. And just as his mind was starting to get carried away with the magical moment, her left foot accidentally stepped on his right. He let it pass with a grunt. Then, she did it again, with the other foot this time. Then again, and again.
On the fifth time, he finally spoke. "You're not supposed to…step on your partner's foot." If he was not who he was, his toes would be swollen by now.
"Sorry."
Thankfully as time progressed so did their little lesson. Soon enough she was swaying beautifully with him without another single step on his toes. He took advantage and inched his face closer that his right cheek was brushing against hers, without a single complaint.
And, he had to admit, her hair smelled so good.
"Is smelling your partner's hair part of dancing?"
He chuckled without breaking the contact. "Among other things."
"Is that something I should worry about?"
"I think they are the ones who should be worried." He remembered something. "Just don't attack anyone who tries to smell your hair, okay?"
"I'll try."
With a smile, he closed his eyes and thought of this very strange day.
Earlier, he thought he would be dateless during the party…and now he was holding, in his arms, the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen.
Clark…don't forget she's an Amazon on a mission. And he remembered being sure of his feelings for Lana.
Besides…Diana's too arrogant.
She's…too tall.
We're too alike.
In short…she's not my type. Yes…definitely not my type.
But that did not stop him from enjoying the moment.
Just then, Martha appeared on the doorway with a quiet and surprised smile appearing on her face upon seeing the two. But she let the tender moment pass and was about to leave when Clark opened his eyes.
"Mom!" He looked embarrassed. "I'm just teaching Diana…how to dance."
"Dance?" His mother asked as the two pulled away from each other with her knowing grin.
"The party tonight…remember?"
"I agreed to come," Diana spoke.
"Oh…yes I remember." A thought occurred to the older woman. "By the way, what would you be wearing?"
Clark and Diana looked at each other in question. "I have no garment…except for the one I wore coming here," Diana answered while Martha moved towards them.
"Well…let me see…" Martha wondered. "I may have kept some of my…older evening dresses."
Clark laughed as he looked at his mother, then to Diana. "The question is, will they fit?"
"Clark Kent…if you must know…I used to be a lot smaller." Then she turned to Diana. "Want to try on some dresses?"
Diana looked at Clark as if asking for permission. "Can I?"
Without waiting for her son to reply, Martha answered. "I think you have mastered the steps already. Someone's being just a little naught---"
"Mom…"
Martha took Diana's hand. "Lets go."
When they reached the foot of the stairs, Martha's motherly instincts suddenly reminded her of something very important. "Diana, wait here," she smiled and returned to her son who was just turning off the music.
"Clark," Martha whispered. "What about the…" She was trying to mouth the words, remembering that Diana could hear as well as her son.
"What, mom?"
"The…" Martha was making hand gestures to her abdomen. She glared when her son still could not understand what she was trying to convey. "Panties?" She mouthed again.
"Oh!" He exclaimed. Then his expression grew serious. "What about them?"
"She doesn't wear any."
His eyes widened. "What? Really?"
"Clark…" Martha warned. "She can't go to the party without wearing one."
"What's wrong with that?" He got another glare. He was getting many of that today. "So what do we do?"
"Go and buy some."
"Mom!"
"That…or she won't go." Martha smiled sweetly at her son then she touched his arm to gently force him. "Now, quit stalling. We don't have enough time."
He was going to buy underwear, women's underwear. "Where?"
"The drugstore." Martha placed her hands on her hips. "The boutique of course. Drive there now, or worse…borrow from Lana," she added.
That was indeed a lot worse. He looked defeated. "Okay."
Martha kissed him before he turned to the door. "And hurry up."
Not having a daughter of her own made Martha somewhat excited about choosing the right dress, like a mother helping a daughter on selecting the most beautiful gown for the prom. One by one, she laid the old but well kept dresses on the bed as both she and Diana looked on.
Of all the items, three particular dresses caught Diana's attention. The first was a simple but elegantly cut black dress with spaghetti straps. The second was a white halter with a lower hemline. The third was a very sexy red dress.
Diana tried them one at a time and, thankfully, they all fit close enough, just a little too tight on the chest and the hip area but they were just minor alterations that Martha could very well take care of in the shortest time. The only problem was the length. Diana was a lot taller than Martha and that meant the dresses would be shorter. But then, with elegant long legs like hers, it was not a problem at all, Martha conceded.
Next on the list was footwear. Surprisingly, Diana did not have big feet and a few of Martha's slippers were enough.
After the dress fitting, Jonathan and Martha gave her a complete tour of the farm, acquainting her with the equipment and small tools and she found herself enjoying the moment. After a short while, Clark arrived.
'Hey!" Clark tried to surprise her by suddenly appearing behind her back, albeit in vain because of her extra keen senses.
She turned, removing her fingers from feeling the hard steel of the tractor as the engine vibrated. "Hello," she smiled and he noticed on her right hand a corn muffin. "Jonathan and Martha are showing me around the farm. Where were you?"
"I…had to buy…something," he shrugged then turned to Martha who was on the other side of the equipment. "Mom…I put the…undies in your room." He hoped the color on his face would go unnoticed.
"What?" Jonathan was wiping his hands on a grease-smeared towel. He turned the questioning eyes to his wife beside him after climbing down the tractor.
"Long story." Martha answered.
She peeled the thin wax paper at the bottom of the rich yellow pastry. "Martha baked the most delicious muffins. Have some."
He had to smile at her tone that was more of an order than an offering and took a bite out of the muffin. He was able to utter something that resembled a word of gratitude between mouthfuls. On instinct, she brushed off some crumbs that kissed his smiling face.
A few feet away, Martha and Jonathan were busy exchanging knowing looks.
A soft gust of wind that ran across the farm blew at her hair and the thick black mane danced like silk in the wind. And as he looked into her eyes, with the ample assistance of the afternoon sun, he could see the tiny silver specks that danced in the bright blue orbs like diamonds floating in an ocean.
How he wanted to tuck the insolent strands of hair behind her ear that seemed to call out to him, mesmerizing him more to her splendor.
"I want to show you something."
Before she could even ask or mutter a protest, his hand boldly reached out and held hers, pulling her with him towards the large barn. Once inside, he let her hand go and confidently strode ahead, pausing where the wooden stairs ended on the hay covered ground.
"Follow me," he suggested with a gleam in his eyes as he turned awhile to look at her. Then his feet slowly lifted from the ground as he floated in the air to land at the mezzanine.
With a smile of her own she followed him using her gift of flight. Once her feet touched the wooden floor her gaze swept the area and noticed several items similar to what he had in his bedroom occupying the ample space. Then her footsteps led her to the large rectangular window where a strange instrument stood on three steel legs.
"Well…what can you say?"
She considered for a moment. "It's…more disorganized than your bedroom."
The proud smile he had pasted on his face slowly disappeared. It felt like being crushed with the hand of disappointment. "You know…you have rudeness mastered to perfection."
"Pardon me?" She did not like his tone and assumed a defensive stance.
"Do they teach you the art of bluntness in the island?" He asked, injecting a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Or is it inborn?"
"I was merely---"
"You know what? Just forget it."
He flew down and stormed out of the barn but she followed close behind, confused with his sudden display of emotion.
"You asked and I just answered," she reasoned at his retreating back, adamantly trying to match his stride.
He abruptly turned and they bumped into each other and with him being the slightly stronger one she bounced off his chest and his arms automatically reached to support her before realizing she did not need the assistance. He immediately withdrew his arms.
"You need not put it so…frankly."
"But it was the truth."
He abruptly turned again sensing that there was no use arguing with her. "Whatever." He strode to the house.
"You know I cannot lie." She muttered, following him.
Jonathan and Martha were both left staring in their direction.
"Uh oh…" Jonathan started. "She did not like the…fortress."
"The classic love and hate relationship." Martha sighed. "Brings back old memories."
They resumed the lessons with a slightly irate Clark. Next on the itinerary was the very important lesson on proper, very proper, manners and etiquette during social gatherings, with enough emphasis on facial expressions and not glaring or threatening every other man she saw.
They finished with just enough time to prepare for the party itself. She had her first bath outside Themyscira with a little help from Martha and because she was curious about a lot of many new things the bath took longer than necessary. After more than an hour the older woman was more than excited about getting her ready for the night.
Obediently, wearing Martha's robe, she sat on a small chair that faced a mirror and a table that contained several colorful items and brushes. On her right side, she noticed that Martha was plugging a black handheld equipment that later made a buzzing sound to dry her long hair. Then after some brushing, pulling and twisting, her long hair was now held securely at the back of her head, showing much of her beautiful face.
After that, Martha applied something on her face and eyes. Then, there was something of a reddish shade that brushed her lips. And when she finally had the chance to look at her reflection, she thought she was looking at someone else. Her lashes seemed thicker, her face and lips were a lot redder.
After helping her zip the dress and wear the matching elegant black slippers Martha stood back and marveled at the sight of beauty that stood within a few feet from her. She could now forgive her son for gawking and stammering earlier that day. Looking now at Diana was looking at goddess. The dress was just perfect, the bodice hugging her silhouette seductively and the hemline just above her knees, displaying her long, shapely legs.
Last touches were a simple bracelet and a dab of perfume. After that, both women walked out of the room.
On his part, Clark was ready half an hour ago. He busied himself with pacing back and forth in the living room, once in a while consulting the aid of his wristwatch for the time, all the while wondering what was keeping her. His imagination even got the better of him when he thought that, with her not so very girlish manners or because of the pints of ice cream and the number of muffins she consumed that day, she might have ripped the dress while putting it on.
Or…she might have broken the high heels of his mother's slippers.
Or…the underwear he bought was the wrong size!
He was just about to come up with another funny excuse as if to get back at her from hurting his feelings, though not deliberately, this afternoon when she came into view as she took careful steps down the stairs.
All he could do was look at her.
Then purse his slightly open mouth.
And stand unmoving though his eyes followed her every move while she seemed to float like a beautiful image towards him.
For the second time, he lost his gift of speech.
He was in awe and did not believe it was possible…that she could ever be more beautiful than she already was. But with her hair swept away and her face glowing, she was absolutely and totally breathtaking.
And even though he looked as every bit as handsome in a black coat and bow tie with matching dark pants, his hair held in place by his very reliable hair gel, he suddenly felt a little inferior when she stood beside him. She suddenly looked taller with the heels.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Martha sighed as she stepped close to the two. "Clark?"
He removed his eyes from her and turned to his mother. "Congratulations mom. You've just succeeded in making me look like her bodyguard."
"Don't be silly. You both make a good looking couple," Martha beamed. "Don't they."
Jonathan just stepped inside the house. "Clark…you haven't looked like this since…high school prom." The older added a tap on the shoulder before turning to Diana. "And…honey, I can't remember you being this…"
Martha grabbed her husband's hand. "Lets have dinner shall we?" She turned to the two. "And have a good time."
"We will mom."
"And Clark…keep your eyes on the road, okay?"
He smiled before turning to the door. "Yes, mother."
Thankful that it was a short drive, he kept to himself, very conscious of the woman, the goddess to be precise, beside him. And just like Martha said, he kept his eyes glued on the road while his hands gripped the steering wheel while he drove the jeep borrowed from his father.
He opened the radio to interrupt the long and stretching awkward silence. But a few minutes later, he could sense she was studying his profile.
"What's…what's wrong?" He chanced a quick look at her.
She was smiling, a radiant smile. "You look…handsome."
"Oh…" Suddenly, he was more conscious than ever. "…Thanks."
"You're welcome," she remembered to reply.
"Uhm…" He began. "…You look good too." Look good? Kent, are you blind? She's stunning, his mind added.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Silence stretched its tense arms again to build another gap between them. And he could still feel her eyes on the right side of his face as he maneuvered them safely in the dark pathway.
"Kal…"
"Yes?" He chanced another quick glance on his side.
"I'm sorry…for earlier."
He remembered she was raised in a home that was almost perfect, where there was no need for pretensions. He could very well not blame her for her honesty. "It's okay. Forget about it."
"Are you sure?" She sounded so very uncertain. "Because I don't want to lose the very first best friend I ever made…this part of the world."
His face and eyes broke into a genuine smile. "Trust me…you will not lose…the very first best friend you ever made this part of the world just as easily."
"Thank you, again."
"You're welcome…again."
He was not looking at her, but she could see the smile on his handsome, young face. Then she turned her head to her right and looked outside in the dark. It was such a forlorn thought, but she knew she was going to miss this man, her friend, dearly when she left.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Clark's school. With all the welcome, the people, there was a certain excitement that welled up within her about the new experience. Holding on to his arm after climbing out of the jeep, eyes were instantly fastened on them as made the way to the party.
And it suddenly became all too confusing.
She did not know that Kal-El of Krypton had many friends here, in this planet that was not really his home. There were a lot of names and faces that she had to memorize as he introduced her as his friend. And it was not at all hard to sense that there were eyes that looked at her differently, with an amount of concealed envy.
With the introductions finally and thankfully over, Clark walked her to the buffet table.
"What are these?" Her eyes looked in awe at the bite size pieces of food that adorned the long table.
"They are called finger foods."
"What!"
The sound of alarm in her voice made him chuckle. "They are not actually fingers. They are named like so because you have to eat it with your fingers."
"Oh…" She sighed in understanding. "And that?" She whispered to him, indicating the red liquid in a big bowl with floating orange slices.
"It's a punch. Not the 'punch'." He made a small gesture with his closed fist. "It's another term for a mildly alcoholic beverage," he was quick to add. "And you can't have any."
"Why?" She frowned.
"Because…I don't how know how your…body will react to alcohol," he explained. She could probably tear down the whole gymnasium in another fit. And, to take her mind off the topic, he just asked, "Let's dance, shall we?"
She smiled knowing all along that he was trying to take her mind off from asking more questions as he whisked her away to the dance floor while Patti Austin's soothing voice serenaded the crowd and heads turned their way simply because of the fact that they made a beautiful couple. And, despite the amount of indifference she felt from other people, she ignored them and instead focused on enjoying the moment.
"This is a fund raiser, right?" As they danced, she looked around the area, from the banner and balloons, to the band and the woman who had a beautiful voice. When he answered in the affirmative, she continued. "For what cause?"
"Funding for research to fight breast cancer," he answered against her hair.
"Oh…" She continued looking around the large area. "You mean…people contribute to help other people, even the ones they do not know?"
"Yes." He inched away and looked at her face. "People…here, are not exactly what you might know them to be."
"I know that now," she admitted her misgivings. "You, and your family, taught me to believe…there is hope for this world."
The sincere expression on her face made him suddenly want to think of something else, other than the confusing emotions he was feeling at her closeness. He blamed it on the lighting that made her more enchanting than ever, he blamed it on the music that added a romantic touch to the atmosphere.
He wanted to think of Lana…because if he did not…
"Have you seen the man you wanted to interview?"
He looked around himself, thankful for her innocence about his conflict, the distraction she offered. "No…I don't think he's coming. He's probably too busy."
"He's a rich businessman?"
"Yes, very rich. A billionaire."
"Maybe that's him."
"Where?" He turned his head to look where she was looking.
"The man right there, the man without hair."
Lex! And he was with Lana. He immediately turned away.
She felt him tense. "Do you know them?" She searched his face and felt something.
"Yes…"
There was certainly something different with him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he was quick to deny.
Her eyes lit. "She's the girl you speak of, isn't she?" When he did not answer, her suspicion was more or less confirmed. "Isn't she?"
"Yes…" He turned so that she could not see them anymore. "And stop asking."
"If you like her…why don't you just tell her?"
Yes, Clark…if you like her why don't you just tell her? "Diana…" he warned.
"Okay." She rested her head again on his and whispered while shaking her head, "Chicken…"
He laughed. "And where did you learn that?"
"From Martha."
"And what else did my mother…teach you?"
"She has widened my vocabulary," she stated proudly. "Chicken…"
"I'm not…" He wanted to wipe the smug smile on her pretty face. "Okay what do I have to do to prove to---"
"Ask her to dance."
He pretended to consider. "I can't leave you by yourself." You can't leave her, period.
"Of course you can." She disentangled from the embrace. "I'll just be…by the buffet table."
He was torn between leaving her by herself and accepting the challenge. Besides…he wanted to think about Lana and there she was. "Stay away from the punch."
"I will. Now…go to her." With a smile, she left the dance floor.
Meanwhile, a few minutes before and a few feet away, on one corner of the large room, a young man in a dark and expensive suit was talking to other businessmen comparable to himself. While appearing to be attentive, he was truly bored out of his mind. But exerting the effort to pretend to be very engrossed in what the others were muttering in businessman jargon was a must though his mind was busy thinking of a polite excuse to extract himself from the predicament without offending the host. After all, he had already signed a check of a generous amount for his contribution to charity.
And he had other plans.
But then, as he was ready to deliver the well thought of excuse, his eyes fell on something.
It was just a simple smile…but that was all it took to capture his attention.
And time stopped while he looked at her.
It felt odd how he could not take his eyes away from her, as if everyone else faded into the dark and there was no one else around but her. And as she moved away, there was this unseen force that seemed to pull him to her.
He excused himself immediately from the small crowd, not waiting for a reply, and walked to where she was without taking his eyes away from the beautiful smile.
Finally near the long table, without her friend to tell her what and what not to do, she returned her attention to the colorful bite sized snacks and carefully selected which one to try first. But her gaze fell on the forbidden red liquid and looked longingly at the punch, regretting the promise she made to Clark. Then a deep voice interrupted.
"Good evening."
She turned and was inches away, face to face with a handsome man. "Good evening," she returned the greeting.
"Can I possibly have this dance?" The man's eyebrows rose in question while offering his right hand.
For a moment, she studied the face of the man before her. There was no mistaking that Clark was handsome but in a totally different way from this one. This…stranger had an aura of mystery, of charm and confidence. And because of that, she was wary and she nearly declined his offer. But she remembered Clark's reminder that it was important for her to take advantage of this opportunity to socialize. With an amount of hesitation, she placed her hand in his.
He slowly led her to the middle of the dimly lit dance floor while an enchanting melody played in the background. Placing his hands on her waist he could feel a slight amount of recoil and hesitation in the way she placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Don't be scared." He smiled at her. "I won't bite."
For a second she wondered why in Hera's name would he bite her then realized it was another joke. He was making an effort to lighten the moment and be friendly and she rewarded this with a half smile. But she realized sooner that he had no intention of taking his eyes from her face and it was a little…unnerving for her.
What's happening to me?
As a distraction she leaned forward and, thankfully, he followed suit, their faces touching at the sides. While swaying gently to the music her eyes desperately sought the familiar face of Clark among the crowd. But when she finally did, just like all the couples dancing around them, he seemed to be oblivious to everyone else but the one he danced with and he could not see her. And though a part of her was glad for him, a part of her somehow felt left out.
She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the moment herself with this man, and the enchanting song.
"I like this song." She whispered.
"If I Believed."
"What?"
He moved away to study her face. "It's the title of the song."
"Oh…"
She looked at him and studied him more. He was slightly taller than her, even with her heels, he had dark hair, intensely blue eyes, and a very disarming smile. To sum it all up, he was a dangerously attractive man. And he was staring at her again in a certain way that Clark never did.
"It's a beautiful song." She tried not to be affected.
He did not even try in the slightest to conceal his admiration. "You are beautiful."
"Thank you," she replied before leaning in again. There was something in this man's stare that stirred up emotions she could not name within her.
Are you losing your mind? You see a beautiful face and you lose your senses? Almost everything inside him was questioning his actions. You'd better put a stop to this.
It was the very first time that he acted only on his emotions, after all the time he devoted in controlling them. And he could not afford to act on this kind of emotion if he wanted to continue his plans.
But he could not let this chance pass him by.
Just this once he wanted to feel like an ordinary man, a man who did not feel the weight of responsibility to his people.
With the resolve, he closed his eyes and allowed the last few moments to hold this woman close, to smell her hair, to feel the soft face against his as the song drifted to a close before he resumed the persona the people knew.
Then, the song ended. The dance ended. His time was up.
He knew what he had to do. And slowly, his right hand inched down from resting comfortably on her waist to boldly feel the softness of her perfect behind.
Her simultaneous reaction was to look at him in wide-eyed in surprise that was nowhere near delighted. Then swiftly he felt her hand grip his arm from behind. All of the room spun around while he was being hurled three hundred sixty degrees to land on his butt.
People gasped in shock as she stood flaming, towering over him while he was sprawled on the floor wearing a silly smile on his face all the while thinking that she looked as beautiful even when angry as hell.
"You…." She shouted. "You bad…man!"
"Diana…" Clark squeezed himself into the crowd. "What's happeni---?"
He was cut short, not by the evident anger on her red face but, by the source of her fury who was a few feet away from her, a man dusting himself off.
He recognized the man. Everyone else knew who this man was. Except for Diana.
He was the man, the billionaire he wanted to interview. But the remote chance of that happening just flew out the window.
Because his friend just wiped the floor with Bruce Wayne.
