Chapter 12: Change of Plans

It felt so much like her first Christmas Eve with him.

They were standing together doing something as mundane as dishes, but there was an air of intimacy in the daily ritual as they cleaned up after lunch; because his parents were not there.

They stood shoulder to shoulder as they finished washing and drying the last of the dishes and Lois couldn't help but wonder if this was what it could be like if anything permanent came of what was happening between them.

Clark was such a reassuring presence next to her and without thinking about it, she put her head on his shoulder to be closer to him. She felt his head dip after a moment as his lips sought out hers and he gave her a gentle kiss.

"That was the only time I'd ever kissed a girl while I was doing dishes." Lois should have guessed he'd be thinking about that same night. He had the unnerving ability to sense what was on her mind. "And yet, it hasn't happened since."

Subtlety was not one of her husband's strong suits.

"Well, with your parents gone until tomorrow, I suppose anything could happen."

It was however, one of hers.

When she glanced up at him his face was flushed with a barely concealed smile of anticipation. "I'm guessing you have something in mind?"

"Only the something you have in mind." She replied with what she hoped was a vague shrug of her shoulders.

"What if I told you that something was dessert?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think it's fair to say you're not talking about pie and coffee." She upped the ante and raised both eyebrows.

"Never even crossed my mind," He shook his head before leaning over to kiss her soundly. "So, why don't you help me finish these and then we can do something else for awhile that doesn't involve milking cows or bringing in the laundry. How does that strike you?"

"It strikes me very nicely, thank you." She kissed him back and between the two of them, washed and rinsed the last of the dishes.

After they dried the last dish and Clark had put them away, Lois hung up the damp dish towel and then faced her smiling husband, who held out his arms to her.

"May I?"

"You may, oryou could chase me up the stairs." She offered an alternative even though she wouldn't have minded one bit being carried in his arms.

"Not in your condition, I won't." He frowned and shook his head with a firm 'No'. Lois had to tamp down the urge to tell him not to coddle her because she knew he wasn't, he was being perfectly sensible.

Her perfectly sensible, buttoned up G-man.

"That's fine because Junior-ette and I wanted to be carried anyway."

"Do you really intend on calling our possible future daughter, 'Junior-ette' the whole time you're carrying her?" He reached for her hand and slipped it around his neck.

"Yes." She replied as he got an arm around her back and then dipped to catch her under her knees with his other arm. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I think I'll take you upstairs and try to change your mind." He admitted and then walked with her secure in his arms toward the kitchen stairs. "Because we both know how persuasive I can be."

"We'll see." Lois couldn't resist the urge to issue her handsome husband a challenge. "Because you forget that I can be just as persuasive."

"True." He nodded in agreement. "But it doesn't really matter because in the end we both win."

"That we do, G-man, now mush." She reached down and swatted him on his backside. His eyes widened in pleased surprise and he smiled, slowly heading up the stairs.

"Patience is a virtue, Lois."

"That may well be. But it's not one of mine, so move it." She smiled back sweetly and kissed his cheek. "Please?"

"Since you put it so nicely," He kissed her back. "It'll be my pleasure, Mrs. Kent."

She didn't think she'd ever get used to hearing her new name and she thanked him in her own way. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, Mom." He bounced her gently in his arms, the look in his eyes telegraphing his appreciation. When he got up to their room and set her on her feet just over the threshold, he asked if she wanted the door opened or closed.

"Just in case?" She answered with a question, knowing he'd understand.

He closed it.

It didn't matter his parents were probably in Granville by now, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't need to turn around and come home for some reason. If Lois learned anything from the night Clark had come home from California it was safer to have the door closed, less embarrassment for them and for his parents.

They took their time as they made their way to the bed, kissing deeply and discarding slowly every bit of clothing as they went. When they got to the edge of the bed, Clark went down on one knee and brushed a hand over her bare skin, feeling the life they'd created together.

Lois felt a tear roll down her cheek and ran her trembling fingers through his rumpled hair, overwhelmed with the reverent way in which he touched her. When he looked up at her, his blue eyes reflecting his own deep feelings, another tear tracked down her other cheek.

"I still have a hard time believing it," His voice was a little rough, probably from trying to keep his own emotions in check. "I'm going to be a dad."

He kissed her where the baby rest before he stood up and cupped her face in his hands and gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs before he kissed her. She wound her arms around his neck and answered his heated kiss with one of her own, flattening her body against his.

Lois didn't know if she'd ever really be able to put into words how much he truly meant to her or how his love had changed her life, but she could certainly show him.

oooooo

Early afternoon eased into early evening and Lois knew without a doubt there was such a thing as heaven on earth because she'd experienced it, with him.

They lay next to each other in sated silence and in between soft kisses and the gentle brushing back of damp hair, Clark started to laugh and Lois couldn't help but smile.

She loved the husky sound because it clearly reflected his happiness, while making the bedsprings squeak lightly underneath them. When she turned her head to look at him, his gaze was already on her. "Do you have any idea how much I adore you?"

"You're just saying that because I let you have your way with me." She reached for his hand and squeezed it, too tired to do anything else.

"That, too," He grinned at her, an unquestionably blissful grin. "But in all fairness, you had your way with me, too."

"And you should consider yourself a very lucky man." She rolled over enough to kiss his shoulder before settling on her back.

"Oh, believe me, I do." She recognized the tone, he wanted her.

However, she knew before there would be a command performance she really wanted, and needed, to have a bath. With the bedroom door closed and the shades drawn, stifling warmth had settled on the room, even though the sun had gone behind the clouds a couple of hours earlier and it had started to rain. She was feeling decidedly damp and wilted, but in a very, very nice way.

Clark rolled to his side to look at her and his face was flushed. "When you get that Cheshire grin on your face, I worry that you're up to something."

"You should never worry, G-man." Lois was deliberately mysterious. "You should just enjoy."

"Lois?"

"How would you feel about taking a bath?" She leaned over to kiss his chin and then his lips. "After our busy afternoon, we really should clean up."

"You'd rather take a bath?" Clark frowned and looked a little perplexed. "Instead of-"

"Clark, where is your sense of adventure?" She put a finger to his lips to quiet him and tried to be serious, but couldn't do it because she was so happy. "I didn't mean we should take them separately."

From the way his eyes suddenly lit up, it had to have dawned on him what she was getting at. "You mean-"

"Why not?" She kissed him. "You stay here and get your strength back while we," She put a light hand on her sheet covered abdomen. "Go run a bath. And when you're sufficiently rested you can go downstairs, put Glenn Miller on the phonograph and meet me in the bathroom."

"That is a tempting offer." He slipped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her to him, so his lips met hers. "I'll have to think about it."

"Well then, let me leave you with something to think about." Lois got up on an elbow and as she slipped out of their bed, skimmed her body over his making certain to contact as much of her skin against his as possible, touching his arms, legs, chest and shoulders along the way. When she finally stood up she deliberately kept her back to him, sashaying leisurely to their bedroom door giving him a clear view of her body.

She stopped and turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder to give him her best sultry smile. His answering look was absolutely smoldering when she issued a breathy admonition. "Don't get too comfortable, Handsome."

"No chance of that." Clark closed his eyes and groaned as he rolled back onto the pillow, his hands balled up into fists.

She shouldn't have laughed, leaving him in the condition she did, because she understood how he felt. But still, she giggled as she stepped lightly down the hall to the bathroom because she was in love, she was carrying her husband's child and he'd just made love to her for the third time that afternoon. And she giggled even more when she heard him laugh, a deeply satisfied, if somewhat frustrated laugh.

Best of all, they were going to be alone in the house until the next afternoon. It was an opportunity they'd been given and Lois was thankful she had such a thoughtful mother-in-law.

Martha had taken her aside the afternoon after she'd announced she would be accompanying Jonathan to the Grange meeting and explained her plans for the following Saturday.

'I don't usually go with him, but I thought I should this time. Once the baby comes, you and Clark won't have much time for yourselves. With us gone overnight, you'll have an empty house.'

'We will?'

'We'll leave late morning so we can get there in time for the potluck and then after the meeting is over, we'll stay for the dance and come home late the next morning.'

'There's a dance?'

'They aren't Benny Goodman by any means, but the Granville Grange Hall Dance Band is very good and well known around Lowell County. Maybe you'd like to come with us next time.'

'I'll talk to Clark.'

Lois loved to dance and if she hadn't wanted to take advantage of the opportunity she and Clark now had, she would have seriously considered going. But as she put the drain plug in place and turned on the taps of the claw-footed bathtub she was glad they had stayed behind.

And with the rain falling, it just added to the romance of their precious time together.

She found the new bottle of bubble bath Martha had made earlier in the week and poured a small amount into the running water. She'd watched as her mother-in-law stood at the stove and melted down the bits and pieces of her handmade soap that she'd insisted be saved, with water and lanolin. The aromatic concoction that they both used was a wonderful addition to the bath.

Martha had told her it was a recipe of her mother-in-law's she'd begun to use when she was carrying Clark. She swore it had eased the itching that came along as her body stretched to accommodate her growing baby because it kept her skin soft. Lois had already tried it and could swear to its positive effects. Even though she wasn't too far along yet, her skin was already itching as her body made room for the baby.

As the tub filled, she dipped her fingers in occasionally to check the temperature and as it got just to the half way point, she turned the taps again.

With the water off, she heard the strains of 'Moonlight Serenade' float up the stairs from the parlor phonograph and began to sway to the music. She was so focused on the romantic tune that she was unaware Clark had come to stand in the doorway and was watching her.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when there would be a beautiful woman dancing naked in my bathroom." He was pleased with the view, of that she had no doubt.

Lois turned around to see her husband, his large frame clad in a tee shirt and pajama bottoms, holding a nightdress in his hand and she noted his state of dress, "Really?"

He chuckled as he walked into the room and hung her nightdress up on the back of the door. "I wasn't about to take a chance of going downstairs with nothing on and have someone show up at the front door."

"We couldn't have that now, could we?" She took her bottom lip in between her teeth as she put her hands on her hips and he reached for her waist. Before he could claim her, though she grabbed the edge of his tee shirt and he lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head.

"I've never danced with a naked man before."

"I'm not naked." He grinned, knowing he stated the obvious.

"Not yet." She replied and glanced down at his pajama bottoms. "But you will be."

"You expect a lot from me without an offer of dinner and a picture first." He folded his arms across his bare chest, trying to look offended. "I'm no B-girl, Miss Lane."

"That's Mrs. Kent to you, Special Agent." She leaned up and kissed him. "Now strip or I'm going to do it for you."

"That could be fun." He was clearly enjoying himself, in spite of the flush coloring his cheeks. And then he laughed when Lois frowned at him. "Allow me."

He divested himself of his pajama bottoms and kicked them out of the way and she sighed. "You do know that I'm not picking up after you."

"Then dance with me instead," He suggested and when he held out his hand, she reached out and took it. Clark drew her smoothly toward him and put a hand on her lower back, resting just above her backside and pulled her close.

They moved together in the classic dance position, her right hand in his left, his right hand at her waist and her left on his right shoulder blade. And the fact that so much of their skin touched, made it an unforgettably romantic experience. The dance lessons he'd taken before their wedding day had certainly paid off and she was certain she'd never be able to listen to 'Moonlight Serenade' in quite the same way again.

When the song finally came to an end, Clark slipped his other arm around her waist and Lois wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips came together with an urgency that made her heart stumble. It scared her sometimes, just how completely she loved him. She pressed her breasts into his chest and his hands rounded her bottom in response.

"The water's going to get cold." She whispered in his ear and her insides melted.

"No it won't." His response rumbled in his chest and he lifted her up. Lois locked her legs around his waist and kissed him again, her body flush against his. "I thought we were going to take a bath."

"We will." She laid her hand over his heart. "But first-"

He didn't miss the meaning of what she wasn't saying.

"Lois." He shook his head and then gave her a peck on the cheek. "There are more comfortable places I can think of and a hard porcelain tub isn't one of them."

"What would you say to a hard tile floor, then?" She laughed and hugged him to her. "At least we wouldn't be at risk for drowning."

"Still uncomfortable, so what would you say to a blanket in front of a fire?" He leaned back with a questioning look on his face. "I got a fire going while I was downstairs and if we don't take too long, it should be just right by the time we finish."

"Then let's not take too long." She squirmed out of his arms and when her feet touched the floor, she held out her hand to him. "Give a girl a hand?"

Clark stepped into the tub and held out both of his hands to her. "I'll give you two."

"We appreciate that." She held onto his strong grasp and put one foot into the water and his grip tightened when she put her other foot in. "Thank you."

"Anything for my girls," He glanced down at her abdomen and grinned.

"Clark."

"Can I help it if I want a daughter who'll wrap me around her finger the way her mother has?" He shrugged unapologetically and Lois's heart fluttered with unease.

"So you will be disappointed if we have a boy." It wasn't a question.

"Of course not," He shook his head and took her by her arms to guide her down into the warm water. "Lois, I swear it doesn't matter. I'll be just as happy if we have a boy, as long as we don't give him my name."

"Why don't you want our son to have your name?" She put her hands on his chest, trying to understand his stubbornness on the matter while trying to ignore the fact that they were in the bath together having a discussion about their baby.

"Because every child should have their own name," He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Now I'll go so far, if you want, to give our son Jerome as his middle name. I know it wouldn't matter to Dad if we didn't, but tradition and continuity are important, it's a way to bind the generations together."

"You were a History major, weren't you?" Lois teased him and he flushed as he picked up the bar of homemade soap from the soap dish.

"Actually, I have a Bachelor's degree in Agriculture, with a minor in Animal Husbandry and my senior thesis was on The Necessity of Regular Crop Rotation to Prevent Leaching of the Soil."

"Sounds like a real page turner." She leaned over and kissed him. "So my G-man really is a farm boy."

"I also have a teaching certificate from the Central Kansas Teacher's College." He kissed her back and lathered the soap in his hands. "Dad was adamant that I wasn't going to be a farmer. But I was just as adamant I would be involved somehow because the Kent family has been a part of farming in Kansas since the Homestead Act."

Clark handed off the soapy bar to Lois before he put his hands on her shoulders and started to run his fingers over her skin. He spread the soft soap across her shoulders and down her arms, rounded to her back and followed the line of her spinal column, coming dangerously close to her backside. He came back around to trace her clavicles and skim down to follow the swell of her breasts, all the while talking as though they were sitting across from his parents at the dinner table, talking about the events of the day over coffee and Lois's apple turnovers.

It took a well of resolve she didn't know she possessed not to lean into his touch, because she didn't want to distract him. He'd never been so forthcoming about his younger days before and she wanted to find out as much as she possibly could. Though, by the way his eyes were following his hands as he talked to her, he was perfectly aware of how his gentle touch was affecting her.

It was affecting him, too, because his hands were suddenly shaking.

"My plan was to come home and teach Agriculture at Smallville High. But during my senior year at Central Kansas, an FBI recruiter came into one of my classes and talked to us about what a critically important job it was to be a Federal agent."

"I remember you telling me-" She lathered the soap and set it back in the soap dish before proceeding to skim her hands across his broad shoulders and work her way down his chest, his pectorals twitching at her soft touch as she traced the ridges. "You wanted to do what you could to put fellows like Dillinger and Capone away. But you never told me that you were going to be a school teacher."

He covered her hands with his and pressed them against his chest as her fingers brushed across the hard planes. "Maybe when I retire from the FBI, I still can. My certificate is up for renewal this year, so I always have the option."

"Would you consider teaching at the Academy?"

"No." He shook his head adamantly. "We'd have to move back to Washington and I don't want our child growing up there. I'd like our daughter or son to have the chance to grow up the way I did."

"Growing up in different places isn't so bad, Clark." She wiggled her fingers loose and started smoothing them down his body, encouraged by his reaction. When she had submerged her hands, however, his followed to take hold of them and she laughed when he shook his head again. He kissed her wayward digits and grinned.

"Before the water gets cold, why don't we get out and continue this conversation in front of a warm fire."

There was only one conversation she really wanted to continue.

"Only if you carry us," She draped her arms over his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Junior-ette likes it when her daddy carries her."

He laughed and shook his head as though to say, 'I can't win.' "And how do you think junior feels about it?"

"Well I suppose if he kicks me, we'll have our answer." She replied and Clark looked absolutely thunderstruck, reaching out a hand to touch her.

"Can you feel the baby moving already?" Lois had only been joking, but then realized it wasn't out of the question for it to happen.

"I've been feeling something lately, but it doesn't feel like a kick."

"What does it feel like?" He caressed her abdomen, before laying his hand flat.

"It's kind of hard to explain." She put a hand over his. "Sometimes it feels like a butterfly flapping its wings and sometimes it almost feels like a goldfish swimming in a goldfish bowl."

"Does it hurt?" He looked all at once fascinated and more than a little squeamish.

"Not a bit," Lois reassured, not wanting him to worry. "It is a little strange, though. But when it starts happening more often, Dr. Francis says I'll get used to it."

"Is it something I'd be able to feel yet?" His fingers splayed out, as though hoping he could at that moment.

"I don't think so, because I can barely feel it sometimes." Lois wondered if Clark realized how disappointed he looked. "But when I start to really feel something, I promise that I'll grab your hand so you can feel it, too. Okay?"

"You promise." He wasn't asking. He was looking for an affirmation.

"Even if I have to take the train into Metropolis, go to The Daily Planet buildingand grab your hand in front of a roomful of nosy reporters." She giggled. "I'll make sure that you get to feel our baby move."

"Well, we've got that taken care of-" He carefully got to his feet and then helped her up to hers. He hooked his toe around the chain to the plug and pulled and the tub started to empty. "We should rinse all this soap off before we get out."

"So, I got my bath and now you get your shower?" She asked him with a cocked eyebrow as she felt the water level around her legs drop. "Or are we just doing our part for the war effort?"

"Just stand over here." Clark gently grasped her shoulders and carefully moved her around to where he'd just been standing, presenting his back to her. And such a strong back it was, too. Well defined from years of helping his father and the physical training as an agent. Not to mention his backside-

"Not in the shower, either." He laughed because he had to have known what she'd been thinking. "But we can always go back to the bedroom if you can't wait to get downstairs."

Clark turned on the water for the shower and adjusted the taps so that the spray was gentle. She knew he intended nothing more than to rinse her off, but as his hands skimmed her shoulders and he leaned over to kiss her,one arm slipped around her waist and glided down her wet skin to cup her bottom.

The blood rushed in her ears as his mouth eagerly sought out hers while his hands skimmed over her skin and suddenly, without any explanation, he stopped. He turned and shut off the water and ran a hand through his wet hair before he drew the window curtain back and looked out.

"What is it?" Her heart then started to pound for a completely different reason because his expression told her, without his saying a word there was trouble, serious trouble. The sound she thought was her blood rushing was actually the sound of a swirling wind picking up outside as the rain pelted the window.

"Honey, you need to dry off as quickly as you can and get dressed because there's a funnel cloud forming."

"How close is it?" She could see the unmistakable formation coming out of a particularly dark thundercloud.

"It looks like the Hubbard's place, maybe as far as the Carmichael's; but I'd wager it's not much farther than that."

He didn't need to say anything else before she grabbed for a towel, giving her hair a quick rub and wrapping it around her suddenly trembling body. Clark held out his hands to help her out of the tub and he gripped her fingers. "You always wondered what it would be like to experience this, so now's your chance."

"Great." She tossed a towel at him so he could dry himself off before she stepped out of the bathroom and rushed down the hall. When she got to their bedroom, she got the loose fitting dress she'd taken to wearing and tossed it on the bed.

By the time she got into her undergarments and dropped the dress over her head, she heard Clark come in. He helped her with her back collar buttons and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before he walked to the dresser to pull out a clean tee shirt, socks and boxers.

She pulled on a pair of ankle socks and jammed her feet into her loafers as he pulled on his dungarees and yanked the tee shirt hurriedly over his head. He pulled on an old 'Central Kansas' sweatshirt, yanked on his socks and shoved his feet into his boots, quickly tying the laces while she ran a quick brush through her hair and snatched a ribbon off of the dresser to tie her damp hair back.

"Get a sweater, honey, the cellar will be cold." It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order and she followed it, without thinking.

He grabbed her hand and held it tight, his pale complexion and less than controlled motions telling her how scared he was, not for himself, but for her and their baby. "The storm cellar is under the house." He told her as he walked out of the bedroom, with her in tow. "We'll go down through the kitchen."

He didn't wait for an answer as the lights started to flicker and then she started to get scared. "Clark?"

"You need to save the talking." He shook his head as went down to the kitchen and just as they got there, the lights went out. "Damn."

She trembled like a leaf and Clark's grip got tighter, running a thumb across her knuckles to try and soothe her. But it didn't because his hand shook badly.

This was very bad.

He opened the door under the kitchen stairs and ushered her in. But just as she stepped on the landing she heard frantic scratching at the service porch door, Shelby.

"Clark." She caught his eye and he must have heard it, too.

"There's a flashlight to your left on the shelf, use it because the stairway will be dark. Hold on to the hand rail on the way down and I'll get Shelby." She hesitated because she didn't want to go without him, but he shook his head. "Don't wait for me, go!"

Lois was half way down the stairs when she heard, "Come on, boy." Her knees were shaking terribly but she kept moving. When she got to the cellar floor, she pointed the beam of the flashlight at the stairs so Clark and Shelby could get down safely.

When they had, she clicked off the flashlight and noticed a wider set of stairs to her right, leading up to a wide set of doors; angled like a roof. Clark moved passed her quickly and bounded up the short set of stairs to pick up a two by four lying on the stairs and jammed it in between the door handles before he grabbed a second and did the same thing.

"Dad calls it his insurance policy." He explained as he joined her. "The force of the wind can pull those doors wide open, so the two by fours give us a better chance of it not happening."

From what Lois could tell as she looked around, the cellar ran half the length of the house, starting under the dining room and ending at the kitchen. Shelves of Martha's preserves lined the walls as well as other food stores and supplies. Now she understood why her mother-in-law bought as much as she did, when she could. She stored the extra so she wouldn't have to make extra trips into town.

A small camp bed was secured against the concrete wall and lanterns around a small living area were secured in wall brackets, as well. Another shelve was secured that contained books, some games, matches, oil for the lanterns and extra blankets. Clark pulled two of the blankets down to cover the thin mattress. "It's been a long time since I've been through one of these. Go ahead and get comfortable and I'll get a couple of the lanterns lit."

"Maybe you won't have to," Lois told him as the wind and rain seemed to die down.

"We stay put." He lit one lantern and then another, chasing away the gloom and shadows. "The hail hasn't come yet."

"Hail?"

"The way those thunderclouds looked, it's bound to." Clark told her. "And if the twister stays on course, we'll find out if we still have a house when it's all over."

And sure enough, the wind subsided and moments later, she heard the clatter of hail.

Clark cocked his ear upward as he listened and then sighed. "It's been awhile since I've had to make a guess, but if I had to, I'd say they're about the size of a golf ball."

They both knew what that meant, "Your dad's crops."

"They should be all right." He glanced up. "He just finished with the spring planting, so the dirt should protect the seed."

"And if it doesn't?"

"More than likely we start over and lose a hell of a lot of money in the process." He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before he looked at her. "This is why he didn't want me to be a farmer."

"And it's why you'll never rule it out, isn't it?"

"Would you mind?" He asked her as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his dungarees.

"If you decide it's what you really want to do, I'll stand by you."

"I really do love this place." He looked up again as the sound of hail pounding the storm doors lessened and it was then that he took her by her hand and walked to the bed. He waited for her to sit down and he sat next to her as the wind started to pick up again. "Brace your back against the wall." He instructed and she did as she was told when he followed suit, grabbing her hand and holding it tight.

She felt him tense as the sound of what could only be described as a locomotive approaching and Lois' heart was beating a million miles a minute. It was just as Martha had once described and Lois felt like a frightened little girl as she tucked her face into Clark's shoulder and inexplicably, he chuckled. "This isn't exactly how I intended our day to end, but I think we're going to be all right." He looked up. "As close as that sounds, we would have known if there had been a direct hit."

"How?"

"I've been told that when a twister hits a house, it sounds almost like a bomb going off." He said. "And unless it changed direction on us, we shouldn't have much damage."

"What would you consider not much?"

"Some missing roof shingles, which I can take care of, or hail damage, which I can also take care of." He sounded rather proud of that. "Anything else and we would raise a new barn or rebuild the house."

"Have you ever helped build a house?" She asked him as she kept an ear trained on the weather outside. "Or raised a barn?"

"I haven't, but Dad has a time or two." He held her close to him, rightly sensing how scared she still felt, though the wind finally seemed to have calmed. "He says a man finds out how well he was paying attention in school because he needs to know his numbers and how they work if he's going to build something that's going to last."

"Your dad is really something." Her head was still down on his shoulder, her taught nerves slowly beginning to relax as it seemed the danger had passed.

"So is yours, he gave me you." He got his arms around her and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek. "I'll never be able to thank him enough for that."

"As long as he gets another grandchild, I think he'll consider you even." She giggled and he kissed her again.

"Lois?"

"Mm-hmm?" She answered as he held her close.

"Have you ever made love in a storm cellar?"

"We've got company." She reminded him of the dog who was currently curled up in a warm nest of blankets, his back to them.

Clark leaned over to see for himself and then sat back. "I don't think he'll mind."

"Clark?" She pulled off her sweater and dropped it on the thin mattress.

"Yes?" His eyebrows went up in question, even though she'd already given him her reply.

"Let's make love in a storm cellar."

"Only if you insist," He pulled off his sweatshirt and it slipped to the floor.

"I insist." She kicked off her loafers.

"Then who am I to disagree?" He untied the laces of his boots and pulled them off, tossing them toward her shoes.

"A wise man never disagrees with his wife." She grabbed the edge of his tee shirt and lifted it over his head.

"Then I must be because I have no such intention." He reached for her as soon as his arms were free, the tee shirt on top of the sweatshirt and he took her down to the bed with him.

"Then what is your intention?" She asked innocently as he skimmed a hand up her thigh.

"Let me show you."

And he did.