Oh my, what a marvelous tune
It was the best night, never would forget how we moved
The whole place was dressed to the nines,
And we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight, starlight...
Like we dream impossible dreams
-Taylor Swift, "Starlight"
Lois heard a knock on her bedroom door, followed by a deep, masculine voice: "Lois, you ready?"
"Just about," she called. She gave herself one last critical glance in the mirror, smoothed her dress-probably the most girly thing in her entire wardrobe-and opened the door. Clark was waiting with his hands in his pockets and his head down; he looked up and his face brightened.
"You look great," he said, his blue eyes inspecting her from head to sandaled feet.
Lois reddened and glanced away, shutting the door behind her as she did so. "You look nice yourself. Never seen you in a white shirt."
He smiled sheepishly. It was true; he hardly ever wore anything that couldn't hide the suit he almost always wore underneath. Here in Kansas, however, the suit remained hidden somewhere and she didn't ask where. She didn't want him to feel any pressure, not in the only place where he could really be himself.
Besides, he'd have to wear it tomorrow. The Gulf Coast was expecting that hurricane to hit in the middle of the night. Clark would be gone before eight o'clock tomorrow morning.
When they arrived at the church, Lois let him help her out of the back seat of the pickup and glanced around. The parking lot was full of people-strangers mostly, but she glimpsed a few familiar faces from her outing on Sunday.
"We'll bring the cake over here to the table, Lois," Martha said, holding the white plate with a magnificent three-layered confection atop it. "Clark, go help them set up those tables over there. Looks like they could use another pair of hands."
"Yes, Mom," Clark said with a wink in Lois' direction.
Children ran around playing games; women set the tables and men prepared the field behind the church for a game of football. Martha nodded in their direction. "We have a bad competitive streak in this town. I wouldn't get tangled up anywhere near that game if I were you. Hello, ladies!"
Several women gathered around a table loaded with food greeted Martha warmly. Martha, however, didn't forget Lois; she reached over and all but pulled her into the circle.
"This is Clark's girlfriend, Lois. Lois, this is-" and she rattled off names Lois quickly tucked away into her memory bank. One name and face, at least, was familiar: Gloria Ross. She stepped forward and took Lois' hand with a firm, warm clasp.
"I'm so glad you were able to come. Yes, set that right over there, Martha, and we'll slice it up in a minute. This is my daughter-in-law Ellen-I don't believe you met on Sunday."
"Nice to meet you," Lois said, shaking hands with a young, pretty woman about her age. Ellen Ross, her stomach swollen with pregnancy, smiled and returned the greeting.
"Tell me, Miss Lane, have you ever been to a potluck before?" Gloria asked.
Lois laughed, glancing around again. "No, I'm afraid not. I grew up an Army brat and never really spent much time with other families except the ones in my father's company."
"Oh, your father is in the Army?" one of the other ladies asked, curious.
"He was," Lois answered, trying not to let her voice fall. "He's, umm, no longer with us."
The angry shouting and crying of two children saved them all from an uncomfortable silence. A small, redheaded child catapulted towards them, hotly pursued by a boy about her own age. Both were smeared with dirt and grass stains; the little girl was crying.
"He won't let me on the football field, Mommy!" the little girl sobbed, throwing herself against Ellen's legs.
"Girls can't play!" the little boy shouted angrily. "Them's the rules and have always been the rules-and when I tried to get her off the field she knocked me down!"
"Goodness gracious, Juliet!" Ellen cried, aghast.
"You can't play football anyway, Juliet, now stop all that crying," Mrs. Ross scolded gently.
"But I can!" Juliet wailed, rubbing her dirty face in her mother's skirt. "I can catch the ball as good as anybody-"
"And you'll be trampled, little one," Martha Kent said, bending to eye level with the child and wiping her face with a gentleness that impressed Lois. "This won't be a game between people your own age. It'll be grown men and they'll be bound and determined to win and half-kill each other in the process."
Juliet responded to Martha's voice by peeking out of her mother's skirt with a sorrowful but no longer infuriated expression. She clearly trusted Martha's opinion, but she was distracted from her woes when she made eye contact with Lois. Curiosity slowly crept into her small face and Lois felt pity and understanding stir in her own heart.
"Maybe," Lois ventured, "maybe Juliet would rather help me set that last table over there."
"There now, you see, Julie?" Ellen soothed. "Why don't you help Miss Lane and make the table pretty? Here, take these little American flags, they go in the middle . . ."
Martha shot Lois a grateful look and handed over a box of plastic utensils. Juliet tiptoed away from her mother and fell into step with Lois to the empty table decorated only by a red, white, and blue tablecloth. Lois watched discreetly while the little girl, still sniffling a little, set the flags upright in plastic cups and placed them along the length of the table.
"So," Lois began, "how old are you?"
"Six," Juliet said, glancing shyly up at her. "But I'll be seven in April."
Lois smothered an amused smile and laid out the plastic forks. "You know, when I was six I got into my fair share of tussles with boys my age."
Juliet's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yep," Lois said, carefully avoiding the child's gaze and speaking as casually as possible. "I didn't have very many friends growing up because of my dad's work, but the ones I did have were mostly boys. If they tried to shut me out of their fun, it made me furious."
"So what did you do?" Juliet asked.
"I wiped up the ground with them," Lois said, darting a mischievous grin at her. "After one of those fights, though, my dad told me that if I had that much energy I'd better channel it into something less destructive. So you know what he had me do?"
Juliet shook her head slowly.
"He started giving me archery lessons," Lois said. She held out her arms as if holding a bow with an arrow fitted in the string. "It might not have been the most girlish hobby but it kept me out of trouble-and it was something I really enjoyed doing."
"Do you still do it?" Juliet asked eagerly. "We play cowboys and Indians sometimes and I like to be the Indian, 'cause I get the bow and arrow and that's cooler than a gun."
"I don't have one right now," Lois admitted, "but I could probably get one. Maybe if I come back to Smallville I'll teach you how to shoot."
Juliet's face lit up. She suddenly waved at someone behind Lois. "Hi, Daddy!"
Lois turned and found herself face-to-face with Pete Ross. He was coming towards them, the surprise clear in his face. Lois stepped towards him and boldly held out her hand. Here, at least, was someone she knew from a previous visit to Smallville.
"Well . . . long time, no see," she said with a significant lift of her eyebrows.
He chuckled. "My mother told me you were in town. I wondered when we'd run into each other again." He glanced at Juliet, who was busy arranging the flags again. "Are you enjoying yourself here?"
"Yes, very much."
"When do you leave?"
"Saturday evening. I have to be back at work bright and early on Monday morning."
Pete nodded slowly and lowered his voice. "I want to thank you for not publishing your story about Clark Kent last year. I, umm . . . I hope you won't ever quote what I told you about the school bus."
Oh! Lois thought in surprise. He knows. He knows about Clark.
"Don't worry," she said in a confidential whisper. "I destroyed all my notes for that story."
"Good. I mean, it's good that you erased the tracks." Pete glanced around. "And I want to thank you, too, for whatever it is you've done to him."
Lois cocked her head, smiled a little. "What do you mean?"
"Well, the Clark Kent I knew for thirty-something years was quiet as a church mouse. He was smart as a whip, we all knew that, and a nice guy, real nice . . ."
Pete glanced over his shoulder and Lois suddenly saw Clark now standing at the food table with his mother and Gloria Ross, a broad smile now and then breaking out over his face as he listened to their conversation.
"He's come out of his old shell, I think," Pete went on. "I'm guessing we all have you to thank for it."
"Well, I don't know that I deserve all the credit," Lois said quietly. "I think when a man is absolutely sure of his purpose in life, it makes all the difference."
Pete smiled, and she knew he understood.
After the meal, Clark sat down in one of the fold-up metal chairs. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes focused intently on the men getting ready for the football game.
"Are you going to play?" Lois' voice startled him. He looked over his shoulder and saw her coming towards him with a spring in her step and a merry light in her cornflower-blue eyes. Clark shook his head.
"I don't want to put anyone at an unfair disadvantage."
Lois leaned down so she could whisper. "You could hold yourself back."
Clark gave her a wry look. "I'd rather not try."
Lois didn't press him. She merely stood beside him, rubbing his shoulder gently. That was how they were when Clark noticed Juliet Ross wandering by, carrying a paper plate loaded with cake. Her round face was smudged with chocolate.
"Pete's little girl," he said. She was born during one of his wanderings, but he'd glimpsed her for the first time during an in-between time, when he drifted back to Smallville. He couldn't believe she'd sprouted so much.
"Isn't she precious?" Lois remarked. "Hey there, Juliet. How's the cake?"
Juliet grinned and trotted towards them. "Yummy! Look, see over there? They're going to have a dance for anyone who doesn't want to play football. My daddy said he'd dance with me since Mommy's too fat right now with the baby."
"You'd better not let your mother hear you talk like that," Clark said, grinning at her.
Juliet made no verbal response, and instead hoisted herself onto his knee without any warning or request whatsoever. Delighted by her trust in him, he set her in a more comfortable position and gently bounced her up and down. Juliet kept her balance perfectly, her gaze focused not on the football field but on the men marking off the dancing area near the food tables.
"Do you want to dance?" Clark asked abruptly.
"Are you talking to me, or to Juliet?" Lois asked.
He chuckled. "Juliet just told us she already has a partner."
"Oh!" Lois flushed, smiled, then assumed a coy manner. "Do you even know how to dance?"
"No, not really, but you could teach me." Clark twisted his leg to the side and Juliet shrieked, barely maintaining her balance now. He laughed and set her on her feet again. "Come on, I'll escort you both to the dancing floor."
"If you're going to step all over my toes, I don't want to dance with you," Lois said.
Clark shot her a look as if to say, I don't believe you, and took her hand and Juliet's.
At least they weren't playing old-fashioned country dance tunes; someone had a stereo going and a country music station was playing. Juliet went to her father and the alien and the reporter faced each other. Now that he was at this point, he felt awkward and unsure of himself. A slow smile crossed Lois' face and she smoothed her dress a little self-consciously.
"Okay, look, this is simple . . . " she began.
"Do you know how to dance?" Clark teased.
"More than you do, I imagine. I put my hand on your shoulder and yours goes here on my side . . . yep, that's right, and our other hands are out like this . . . there won't be any steps, not with this kind of music, we'll just go with the beat."
She moved to the side and, for now, led the dance. Clark moved hesitantly, light-headed at the realization that he was holding her in his arms for the first time in almost a year to focus much on the music.
"It's all right," Lois murmured. "Relax. You're not going to step on my feet. And even if you did, I'd probably forgive you pretty quick."
He smiled, amused, and suddenly took control. She was going where he wanted her to go, still at a slow pace at first, then more quickly and confidently. He lifted her hand high and twirled her around. She gasped in surprise. Someone cheered and he looked up to see Martha on the sidelines, clapping along with the music and beaming at the sight of her son on a dance floor.
"My mom is cheering us on," he said. Lois' color deepened. Clark decided to take a risk and added, in a quieter voice, "Maybe this is what Pete Ross was talking about, when he told you Clark Kent had come out of his shell."
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "How did you-"
"I heard him," he said, smiling. "You should know by now I'm a consummate eavesdropper."
He twirled her again; this time she was expecting it and moved with surprising grace. When he drew her up against him again, she met his eyes. The tenderness and trust in them took his breath away, and he took a second risk.
"Pete was right, though," he said, looking intently at her. "I have you to thank for it."
The ride back to the farmhouse was subdued, but happy. Lois' heart still felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, after Clark's words to her during the dance. He said very little, but his eyes were soft and thoughtful. And Martha-good, dear Martha-respected their need for quiet, even if she didn't understand whatever had passed between them.
Except, maybe she did understand. At least to a certain extent.
Lois was already in her bedroom and had just released her hair from its ponytail when she heard Clark knock on her door. Startled, she opened it just a crack.
"Can you come outside?" he asked. "I want to show you something."
"What is it?"
"Just come see."
Lois stepped out, running her fingers through her hair, and followed him downstairs and onto the porch. Under the stars and a considerable distance from the house, they stopped.
She waited, expectant. Clark gazed up at the stars in silence.
"Why are we out here?" she whispered, but was suddenly cut off by a distant explosion and a burst of color in the sky, reds and whites and blues. She jumped and Clark grinned.
"That came from the Kelsey place," he said, pointing. "Now watch, watch . . ."
Another firework went off, this time in the opposite direction, louder and bigger. Clark gave one of his signature almost-laughs. "And that came from the Morgensens'. They've got this competition-they do it every Fourth of July and New Years' Eve-to see who can have the most, the biggest, the loudest fireworks in all of Smallville."
"How long has this tradition been going on?" Lois asked, amused.
"Ever since I can remember." Another firework from the Kelseys' lit up in the sky with a myriad of colors. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Lois watched him, fascinated. Here was the most powerful man in the world, standing in his mother's yard marveling over the glory of fireworks. He was like a child. He knew how to see the loveliness in the small things.
Something she'd never learned to do, really.
"Yes, it's beautiful," she said.
He looked down at her and smiled. "Not as beautiful as you were tonight."
She blushed. He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.
"I love you, Lois Lane."
She looked away quickly, too overcome to bear his gaze anymore. He suddenly cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back, and before she could say a word he was kissing her just like he'd done among the smoldering ruins of Metropolis. When he pulled back, his voice was hoarse with emotion.
"I love you."
She tried to say something. "Clark-"
"No, just hear me out." He pressed his hands firm against her head, forcing her to look at him and listen. "You were the first person since my dad died who believed I could do great things with my gifts. You taught me how to laugh again. You've encouraged me to look beyond all the mess and wreckage of last year. If it hadn't been for you, I don't know what I would've done."
No, I couldn't have possibly done all that-you're giving me way too much credit-you don't know all the ways you've changed me, too. That was what she wanted to say, but her voice had clogged in her throat.
"You're the most important person in my life," he whispered. Another firework went off and in the sudden light she could see his eyes glistening suspiciously. "Don't ever leave me."
Lois forced herself to take a deep breath. She reached up and pulled his hands from her face, freeing herself to lean forward and put her head against his chest, wrap her arms around him. He kissed the very top of her head and she closed her eyes in sheer contentment.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I won't ever leave you. I love you too much to do that."
The next morning they were all up bright and early, for Superman was needed. Martha made breakfast and afterward he put on the suit. Lois helped him fasten the cape to his shoulders, the first time she'd done such a thing. He kissed his mother and murmured something in her ear about coming home as soon as he could.
Then he pulled Lois up against him and kissed her right there in front of Martha. Lois didn't care. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled gently down at her.
"I love you."
"Love you, too. Stay safe and give those people a helping hand . . . show us all you've got our back."
He laughed softly. "I will. See you soon."
He kissed them both one more time and then made his way onto the front porch. The two women followed and watched, waving, until he'd disappeared from sight in the cloudless summer sky.
Then Martha reached over and rubbed Lois' shoulders with an understanding smile, and they returned to the house together.
Now I know that was mostly fluff and sweetness but it made me as happy as a little fangirl can be! Gosh, I do hope Clark tells Lois he loves her in the next movie or something like. (*sigh*) Anyhooz, consider this chapter the end of Part One; the story is going to take an entirely different direction next update.