And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather,
And stars may collide
But I love you
Until the end of time
-Moulin Rouge, "Come What May"
Lois snapped her suitcase shut and set it down on the floor. Everything she'd need for her "long weekend" was in there. She made one quick pass through her bedroom, turned off the lights, made sure she'd locked her bedroom window. Then she carefully rolled the suitcase down the stairs.
A taxi was on its way to take her to the airport. Waiting in the kitchen, Lois pulled her phone from her jeans pocket and dialed her mother's number. Just when she was thinking her mother wasn't at home, Annie picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Mom," Lois said, peering out the window. "Just wanted to let you know I've gotten an unexpected assignment and I'll be out of town for a few days."
"Oh?" Annie said, distractedly. "Where are you going?"
Lois held her breath. "I'd rather not say right now . . . it's unexpected and Perry wants me to keep it under wraps."
"All right, then." Annie seemed unconcerned, slightly indifferent. "Have a good time."
"And please don't call this phone unless it's an emergency, Mom," Lois added. "Where I'm going, I won't want to be identified."
There was a slight pause. "Are you going somewhere dangerous?"
"No, no," Lois said quickly. She didn't want to ruin her mother's indifference, but she needed to make herself clear, as well. It was a tricky balance. "I'd just rather no one knew who I was while I handle this job."
"I see," Annie said, satisfied. "Well, enjoy yourself. When will you be back?"
"I'll be back at work Tuesday morning. I'll call you then."
As soon as the conversation came to a close and Annie hung up, Lois breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Strange, how she and her mother could be so at odds most of the time, and yet Lois still hated to tell her a lie.
But I really just told her half-truths, she thought, trying to console herself as she walked out to the taxi now parked in front of her apartment. I have to keep this under wraps, I don't want to be identified, I'm not going anywhere dangerous, and I'll be back at work on Tuesday.
But it had still been a lie that she'd been given an unexpected assignment. The real reason she didn't want her mother calling was because she didn't want Annie to interrupt her precious time alone with Clark. Nor did she want Annie to know where she really was, out of fear that Lex Luthor might find out.
Lois sat down in the back of the taxi and tried to relax. She wouldn't feel secure until she had crossed the threshold of Martha Kent's home.
Clark set his foot down on the short spring grass and took in a breath of fresh prairie air. The late-afternoon sun bathed the flat landscape, casting long shadows over his mom's pick-up and Gloria Ross' little Corolla parked in front of the farmhouse.
Dusty, standing sentinel on the front porch with the one little pup Martha had decided to keep, catapulted down to greet him. The puppy followed, one ear cocked high but the other still flopping clumsily; he caught the corner of Clark's cape in his teeth as the wind rippled through it.
"Hey, stop that," Clark said, gently pulling the cape free. The little guy was still too mouthy for his own good. The two dogs pranced around him all the way up to the porch, where he scraped his boots on the welcome mat before pulling open the screen door.
As soon as he stepped inside he heard women's voices upstairs, along with a lot of giggling. He raised an eyebrow and set one foot on the stairs.
"Mom?"
A chorus of shocked gasps and cries came from the guest bedroom; Martha threw the door open and glared down at him.
"Don't you dare come up here," she said.
Clark held out his arms, a helpless gesture. "What did I do to earn that kind of greeting?"
"It's bad luck for you to see your fiancée in her wedding dress before the big day." Martha tiptoed forward and shut the door behind her. "And get out of that suit."
"Oh, is it bad luck too?"
Martha's mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. "No, but Juliet is here. I think she can be a secretive flower girl but I'd rather not push the envelope by letting her see you in that."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "I'll change."
By the time he'd put away the suit and gotten into a pair of old clothes, he heard the women coming downstairs again. When he ventured out he found his mother, Gloria, little Juliet, Lois, and Ellen with her seven-month-old baby in the kitchen.
"Am I allowed to come in now?" he teased.
Lois smiled at him. "You're all clear. Good to see you."
"How was your flight in?"
"Uneventful. Ellen and Gloria were there at the airport to pick me up, and when I got here Juliet and Martha already had a delicious lunch on the table."
"We've had a delightful time working out girly wedding details that wouldn't interest you in the slightest," Gloria said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction.
"Bet I could get Juliet to tell me some secrets," Clark teased.
Immediately the four women looked at Juliet with desperate, pleading expressions. The little girl gave Clark a giddy smile-thus revealing she was missing several teeth-and shook her head.
"Nuh-uh," she said. "I'm not telling you nothin'."
"Good girl," Lois said, patting Juliet's head.
Clark nodded his head in her direction. "All right, just tell me this, Juliet: will she look pretty tomorrow?"
Juliet nodded until her pigtails bounced. "Oh yes, very pretty!"
"That's what I thought," Clark said, winking at Lois. She blushed harder and ducked her head.
He soon found it difficult, however, to manuever his way around the whole house, let alone the kitchen. He couldn't even open the fridge without Ellen respectfully but firmly telling him what he could and couldn't eat. Clark looked at his mother in disbelief.
"There are only supposed to be nine people here tomorrow-"
"Nine?" Lois asked, surprised.
Clark cleared his throat. "Eight. I meant eight, not counting the Ross baby. Mom, you've got enough food in here to feed an army."
Martha shot him a challenging look. "Well, what do you think I'm going to eat on after you two have gallivanted off for your honeymoon?"
"By the way, where are you going?" Ellen asked, settling her baby on her hip
"Just a couple hours away, to Lawrence," Lois replied.
"That's a big town," Ellen said, then laughed. "Big for us, anyway."
"Well, we wanted someplace where the chances of us being recognized together were almost nonexistent. We need to disappear for a couple of days." And she gave Clark such an excited smile that it made his head go a little wild and he had to look away.
That evening, long after the Ross women had left, he found Lois sitting on the porch steps. It was still chilly at this hour, and her hands were buried in the pockets of a heavy sweater. Clark sat down beside her and followed her gaze to the night sky. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.
"Remember when you brought me out here to show me the fireworks?" she suddenly asked, her breath making small clouds in the thin, dry air.
He nodded. "We probably wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for that night."
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thank God you had the wherewithal to tell me how you really felt."
They were quiet for another minute more. She spoke again first, but in a more somber tone.
"I talked to my mother this morning."
Clark looked at her, searchingly. "And?"
"I lied to her. I hated it."
He said nothing. She opened her hands in a helpless gesture. "I don't know what else to do. I wish I could tell her I'm getting married. It seems cruel to keep that from your own mother."
"It would be all over the world in hours," Clark said gently.
"I know." Lois took a deep, shuddering breath and lifted her head with a new determination in her eyes. "She won't call over the weekend. I saw to that. And I'm turning off my phone as soon as we leave here tomorrow afternoon. I don't want anyone tracking me."
"I'll turn mine off, too," he said, hoping to reassure her. "We'll be off the grid for two days . . . just you and me."
She blushed prettily and shot to her feet, taking his hand as she did so. "Come on, farm boy. Let's go for a walk before your mother calls for 'lights-out.' "
Lois didn't sleep well that night; the butterflies in her stomach kept her awake. When faint dawn finally crept through her window, she sat up in relief. Funny how you could feel so wide-awake when you were excited, even if you'd only had a few hours of sleep.
She went downstairs only once that morning for breakfast. Clark flashed her a grin when he saw her and squeezed her hand as he passed her on his way outside.
"It's going to be a beautiful day," he said, gesturing with his head towards the window. "I'll see you at eleven."
"Okay," she said softly, sure she was looking all lovesick again-and right there in front of Martha, too. The older woman just smiled and shook her head knowingly.
By the time the Ross family got to the farm, Lois was upstairs fighting with her curling iron. Ellen took one look at the impending calamity and snatched the tool out of Lois' impatient hand.
"You sit down in this chair here and let me help you with that," she said, setting Baby Ron on the floor to crawl. "What are you going for? Ringlets?"
"No, just some soft curls."
"Ringlets would be prettier under a veil," Ellen said pointedly.
Lois laughed, threw up her hands. "Fine, work your magic. I'm at your mercy."
The ivory dress had been found by Gloria Ross at the local thrift store the day after Martha told her what was going on. She'd taken a picture of it and sent it to Lois, who immediately deleted the picture for security's sake and sent back her enthusiastic approval. Lois shivered with delight as she stood in front of the mirror, letting Martha button the back.
"I've never worn anything so extravagant," she said, trying not to show how much she liked the feeling of being pretty.
"Well, you're not quite finished yet, so hold still," Martha ordered. She pinned the filmy veil to Lois' copper hair, perfectly arranged in thick, glossy ringlets, and stepped back. Lois turned, the ivory skirt swishing, and smiled at the admiring gazes of her new friends.
"You look like a princess," Juliet said dreamily from where she sat on the bed.
"Why, thank you," Lois said, making her best attempt at a curtsey. Juliet giggled.
Gloria peered out the window. "The menfolk are waiting outside, probably talking sports or hunting or business. And Clark's not interested in any of that. We'd better rescue him."
"Oh, he likes a good ball game," Martha said distractedly, arranging Lois' veil with greater care than was probably necessary. "You girls go on outside, we'll be there in a minute."
Gloria, seeming to understand, ushered her daughter-in-law and grandchildren out. Once they were alone, Lois turned to Martha expectantly.
"I'll be good to him," she whispered. "I promise."
Martha nodded, smiling with her lips pressed tightly together. She suddenly reached up and cupped the younger woman's cheek in her hand. It was the tenderest gesture of affection Lois had ever received from her, and it made her throat tighten.
"I'm sorry your mother can't be here," Martha said quietly.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Lois said, squeezing her hand. "You're here. That's more than an adequate substitute. Are you ready?"
"Yes . . ."
"You look pretty classy yourself," Lois said, smiling brightly.
Martha laughed, rolled her eyes. She'd traded her usual knock-around clothes for a dress that really was quite becoming. She led the way down the stairs, looking cautiously behind her as Lois maneuvered her long skirt down the narrow staircase; in the kitchen she handed Lois the sprig of flowers Juliet had gathered that morning, and together they stepped onto the front porch.
Lois froze on the bottom step. Standing there under the big oak tree with the old tire swing were four men, all in their church clothes: the reverend from church-the one who had given Clark counsel before he gave himself up to Zod-Pete Ross, Clark, and . . .
Oh my word. It's Perry.
He grinned at her like the cat that had just eaten a canary-or rather, the editor who had totally surprised his prize-winning author and felt pretty smug about it. Lois' mouth fell open, and then she laughed. That must've been why Clark had messed up last night and said there would be nine people present rather than eight.
Her laugh attracted Clark's attention; he turned, and the amazed look on his face as he took in her appearance made her blush hotly. Martha walked alongside her, a bastion of calm strength, all the way to the tree.
Lois was never able to remember much of the service afterward. She knew she repeated the required words in a quiet but steady voice, and that he stroked her hands with his thumbs the entire time. She knew, too, that she was barely able to get the ring on his finger. She almost dissolved into giggles over it, wrestling it on; he laughed as did everyone else, even the kind-faced, trustworthy reverend.
And then the solemn phrase: "I pronounce you man and wife."
She shuddered at the enormity of the words. Her true identity was no longer contained in the name tag she wore at work. Lois Lane was a name to be used always in public, but deep down she was really Lois Kent. She had a secret identity as much as he did.
At the thought, Lois looked up at Clark and could tell, with that inexplicable intuition she'd always had about him, that he was thinking the same thing.
"There's no veil to lift, so I guess I'm all clear," he teased.
She laughed a little shakily and he gave her a short, restrained kiss. Next thing she knew she was surrounded by the only people in the world who she trusted with this secret. The solemnity of the past few minutes was gone; Lois felt light-headed with sheer happiness.
"I don't care if this is technically an elopement," Gloria said in a bit of a huff. "You're going to have something to remember the day, even if I have to put together a photo album. All right, Pete, take the picture."
"This has got to be the most undignified thing I've ever done," Clark muttered.
Lois giggled and picked up a piece of cake between her fingertips, motioning with her head for him to do the same. "If you complain one more time, Smallville," she whispered, "I'll smear it all over your face."
"Oh, now you think you can threaten me?" he teased. But he submitted to the ridiculous photo anyway, and had to admit the cake tasted pretty good. Juliet was already halfway through her piece.
He had never known such a carefree afternoon. Everyone gathered on the front porch; he and Lois, still dressed in the beautiful ivory gown, sat on the swing. He put his arm around her shoulders and took in the scene . . . Martha, Pete, and Gloria regaling a chortling Perry White with stories about Smallville and notable incidents in Clark and Pete's boyhoods, Juliet playing with Dusty and the pup, Ellen listening to the conversation with her baby on her knee.
We need a picture of this, he thought wistfully. This is what we'll really remember long after that cake is gone.
And then he couldn't help wondering if he'd ever have a chance like this again to forget the troubles of the world, Lex Luthor's threat, or the escalating fear of discovery. For a few moments-just a few, of course-it would be fine by him if he never put on that Kryptonian suit again. He was just a young man from Kansas who had finally married the girl he loved. It was one blessing of a normal life he never thought would be his to claim.
Eventually the sun started sinking. Juliet fell asleep on her daddy's shoulder and that was the signal for the Ross family to go home with their fair share of the cake. Perry had a flight out of the nearest airport in a few hours. As he made his goodbyes, Lois sprang up from the swing and held out her hands.
"You and Clark are two of the biggest sneaks, you know that?" she asked, mischievously.
Perry grinned. "Hey, I wasn't gonna pass up the chance to see Lois Lane tie the knot."
She laughed. "I'll get you both back for giving me the shock of my life. But seriously, Perry, thank you. It was . . . it was good to see an old friend."
To Clark's surprise, the editor, usually so brusque even with Lois, actually hugged her. It was an awkward gesture but Perry clearly meant what it implied: that she meant more to him than just a colleague. When he drove away and Lois turned back to Clark, her eyes looked misty.
He glanced at his watch. "If you want to get into some everyday clothes, we can leave."
"Oh," Lois said, running her hand down the smooth, silky ivory with reluctance. She did like that dress. "Sounds good . . ."
"Unless, of course, you prefer to stay here," Clark added, teasing.
She shot him a playful glare at that, picked up her skirts, and gave them a flirtatious flounce as she whirled and dashed back into the house. His mother, at that same moment, stepped onto the porch from the kitchen and leaned against the wall.
"Have you had a good day?" she asked.
He nodded, drumming his fingers on the back of the swing. "A very good day-and it's going to get better."
She smiled knowingly. She stepped closer and sat down in the seat Lois had vacated; he put both arms around her and pushed lightly against the porch floor, sending the swing into a gentle rock.
"So," she said quietly, "if anything happens-if this Luthor finds out who you are-you'll go into hiding?"
He nodded. "A friend of mine has offered the use of a-well, a cave of his, until we could get out of the country. Lois and Perry think we could get to Poland or some other East European country . . ."
Martha shuddered. "That's a long way away."
"But Lois and I could disappear there. Easy."
"And what about your suit? Your work?"
"I'd still do that whenever and wherever I was needed. But Clark Kent would vanish. I'd have to live under a different name." He looked down at her quickly, realizing the effect such a statement might have on her. "I won't ever forget the name you and Dad gave me, though."
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the nearby barn; perhaps she was thinking of the spacecraft once hidden in its cellar, the vehicle that had brought him to her.
"And if we have to disappear," Clark added quietly, "I still want you to come with us. You'll have to. The government and the press will be on top of you and won't give you any peace."
"And the farm?" Martha whispered.
"Pete and his dad will take care of the farm."
She drew a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's like . . . it's like when you were a child, when we were always so afraid that they'd take you away from us."
"They won't take me away. They can't. But if they found out who I am . . ." He hesitated and frowned, thinking. "Superman, Kal-El, whatever you want to call him . . . it's only half of me. Clark Kent is the other half and equally important. If I'm going to protect you and Lois and everyone here in Smallville, I have to do everything I can to keep the two halves as far apart as possible, at least in the world's eyes. Look what Zod did when he found out who I was here on Earth. He almost destroyed Smallville."
Martha bit her lip; she felt stiff in his embrace.
"If everyone knew my real past, Mom," he whispered, "if everyone knew where I grew up and who I loved the most-they could use it as leverage against me. I can't let that happen. If it did, the best thing for all of us-and Smallville-would be for me to get as far away from here as I could. I couldn't leave without you, though. You'd be in as much danger from men who can't be trusted as you were in Zod's presence."
She was silent, but she did relax a little against him. He could tell his words were penetrating even her stubborn desire to remain on her homestead. At that moment, however, they heard Lois' light step. She appeared in a grey skirt and a shimmering blue blouse; her hair was still in its ginger ringlets.
"I'm ready," she said.
"Good," Clark said, rising from the swing. Martha reached up and hugged him. For a moment she didn't say a word, simply held on with a strength that surprised him. When her voice came, it was in the hoarse whisper of a woman envisioning her child when he was just a baby.
"I love you. Have a good time."
He pushed her back far enough to cup her face in his hands and kiss her forehead, then gently released her and stepped towards Lois. With quiet respect for the scene she'd just witnessed, she held out her hand to him, the one with the slender band on one finger.
They'd borrowed the pick-up for the weekend. When he turned the key in the hotel parked lot, Clark sat back and let out a long breath. Lois reached over and squeezed his hand, smiling like she was about to have the biggest adventure of her life.
"You ready?" she asked.
"Very ready," he said, leaning across to kiss her. She was all flushed and radiant when he drew back again.
"Let's go, Smallville," she said, throwing open her door.
He needed no further encouragement; grabbing their suitcases out of the back of the truck, they walked hand-in-hand into the building. His heart was pounding, and he could hear hers doing the same.
They checked in under false names-Lois' idea-and went upstairs. Neither said much. When they got to their door, he opened it and she moved to enter, but he stopped her with a touch on her arm.
"Don't go in yet," he whispered. She gave him a quizzical look as he pushed both suitcases into the room. Then, without warning her beforehand, he strode back into the hall and scooped her up in his arms. She gasped, laughed softly, slipped her arms around his neck.
"Welcome to your honeymoon, Mrs. Kent," he said with a smile, and carried her over the carpeted threshold.
Fluff, but fun fluff ;) I do love weddings. I've brought my favorite OTP a long way from the first chapter. Thanks to the fact that I'm writing ahead of my updates, I've brought them farther still. Let's just say life is getting very interesting very fast for our newlyweds.
Having teased you like that, I must now confess that due to a hectic schedule I will not be able to post a new chapter next week. I'll get back on schedule after next week, though, I promise!