.

Manipulated, again

It took all her willpower not to jump into his arms as soon as she saw him. The red kryptonite pulsed with a life of its own inside her, pushing her to forget everything.

She bit his tongue in an effort to control himself. And while it wasn't enough, it did give her enough time to deflect the effects of the drug flowing through her blood.

"I look awful in these clothes," she said to herself, trying with all her might to believe her words. "I stink of sweat from all day. He won't want you like this."

She paid the ten dollars for the lipstick and fled to her room on the second floor of the Talon. Without him pacing in front of her, she could think more clearly.

But it wasn't. As she showered she realized that she couldn't stop her thoughts from turning back to her need for Clark. Her mind would go blank when she tried to remember anything about this time. What was she working on? Was Clark done capturing all the Phantom yet? Was Martha still living at the farm?

What she did remember was that, by tomorrow night, Clark would crash Lana's engagement party and steal the bride.

"Unless I stop him," she said to herself, "And hell will freeze over before I can't seduce Clark."

She stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel and went to her closet. At the bottom, hidden behind a pile of dusty coats, she found the suitcase with which she had planned to go on vacation to Monte Carlo. She opened it, removed everything green, packed a lot of black underwear and, in a burst of creativity, also loaded the Windgate bikini and a plaid shirt she had stolen from the farm. Everything had to be ready. She didn't want to waste a second at his side on useless chores.

Just then she heard Chloe snoring. It was her cue to sneak out. She got dressed and grabbed her wallet. She was to get a tattoo of her heart wrapped in red roses, Clark couldn't resist that. She felt a little guilty about exploiting his insecurities, but all those moral brakes were buried as she applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

That night, after applying the ointment recommended by the tattoo artist, she slept like a little girl waiting for Christmas.

The next day she didn't have to hold back, she drove to the farm and as soon as Martha was out of sight she pounced on him and kissed him.

It was just as she had imagined. The fear she felt for not finding in him the man she loved vanished as soon as she was encircled by his strong arms. She couldn't deny that there were slight differences, but it was as clear as day that underneath the red kryptonite intoxication, underneath all his stress and spite, and underneath the infatuation for another woman; there was her husband.

He wasn't an old version of her Clark. No. He was her Clark now, she just needed to get through his defenses to get her husband back. And in this world no one knew how to get through his defenses better than she did.

It only required a small pique to his ego for him to reveal his abilities. Another little for him to show them off, seeking to impress her. And lots of kisses and laughter to encourage him to have fun. She knew very well that no one had ever treated his powers with such nonchalance and she wished those first memories were with her.

They played in the pasture for hours until the kissing and rubbing over clothes was no longer enough for her. She wanted him too badly to keep healing his wounds, so she prodded his ego again. She did it subtly and carefully, didn't want to send him flying with Lana or have him take his anger out on Oliver. She knew up close how volatile red kryptonite was.

"Clark. I don't care if our dates are a simple walk on the farm. I think it matters more who I share that moment with."

Half an hour later they were making love in the Fortress.

Lois knew him like the back of her hand. She knew that biting his lips would turn him on to the max, that screaming his name would make him rougher and that running her nails down his back would drive him crazy with passion. And everything had made her think that she would have the upper hand from start to finish. However, she hadn't considered the differences between a Clark well into his thirties and a proud, energetic boy brimming with repressed sexual desire.

Perhaps she would have been able to handle it in the future, accustomed as she was to an active sex life and a very demanding job. But at this time, and with a body in sexual drought for over a year, she had had no hope of enduring hours and hours of marathon male passion.

When he finally finished and she was shaking like a leaf in his arms, suffering the last remnants of an intense orgasm, the bastard began to taunt her.

"If I had known you were so fragile and delicate, I wouldn't have been so rough," he said as he kissed her neck and she tried to stifle a moan.

Any guilt about manipulating him was gone in that instant.

The rest of the week reminded her of their honeymoon. The only difference was that they regularly returned to the Fortress, not because it was a place she liked, but because she still retained enough self-control to remember her mission.

Slowly she was using her feminine charms to convince him to build a pool and get some amenities. The huge hammocks, which she learned were not Kryptonian but of another alien species, were extremely comfortable so she didn't change them.

She always maintained a delicate balance between her sarcastic attitude and that of a schoolgirl in love; not that it was difficult, both really existed and pined for him. The sarcastic Lois was present whenever they were looking for fun at a party, or when they teased the men Lionel sent to catch them; or simply when she wanted him to conquer her, it was exciting to see in his eyes that animalistic need to subdue her. The lovelorn Lois would appear after they made love, in those moments when the red kryptonite was at its weakest and Clark would shower her with soft, romantic kisses. Or when he would reveal something very private about his life, like that virgin oasis deep in the desert or that time when they petted a wild tiger.

And so the week flew by. Almost without realizing it, the last day had arrived and the lipstick barely had enough for one more application. They would spend their last night at the Fortress and Lois couldn't help but contemplate her work. The cathedral-like atmosphere had vanished, the human banalities and memories they had collected during their travels now made it look more like a home than a cold and sterile sarcophagus. Hopefully the Fortress would no longer make him think of obligation and sacrifice, but only of the good times when it was their love nest.

It might not seem like such a big change. But Lois knew it was.

Night after night, Clark had grown accustomed to holding her, sleeping with his face between her breasts, smelling the scent formed from both of them, and enjoying her good morning kisses; and all of it, she was sure, had succeeded in uprooting his obsession with Lana.

Lois smiled. The red kryptonite hid it, but it would only be a matter of time before Clark couldn't ignore the desire to kiss her again, to possess her... to love her. And now that he knew every sensitive spot on her body to perfection, the Lois of this time wouldn't be able to resist either.

In a few hours she would be gone. But it didn't matter, because it was only a matter of time before life would transform the Lois of this time back to her; just as it had done before. And maybe, with any luck, she would enjoy a much longer life at Clark's side.