Ebony Locks:A Lois and Clark Fairy Tale

By Meredith Knight <meredith@putwet.demon.co.uk>

Rated: PG

Submitted: February 2002

Author's Note: This was written for the Fairy Tale  challenge on the message boards.  I hope you have as much  fun reading it as I had writing it. <g>

I owe a huge vote of thanks to Missy for providing me with  wonderful brainstorming ideas on IRC, and also for beta- reading at top speed.  Thanks, Missy - you're the best! ;)

The characters of Lois and Clark don't belong to me; I'm  just having a little fun with them.  No infringement of  anyone's copyright is intended.  This story, however, is an  original work and copyrighted to me.

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Ebony Locks

Lois trudged wearily down the forest path, her eyes almost  closed and her head lolling onto Clark's shoulder.  Her  husband's guidance and the support of his arm about her  shoulders were all that had kept her going for the last few  miles, and in spite of the chafing of her sodden clothing  and the blistering of feet pushed too far in thin city  shoes, she was only half awake.

Clark himself was in scarcely better condition; a nasty  encounter with a gang of kidnappers and a chunk of  kryptonite had left him mercifully unharmed but bereft of  super-powers.  It had also left the two of them stranded in  an unfamiliar, largely trackless forest - an eventuality  they hadn't thought to equip themselves for when they had  set out before dawn to investigate an illegal logging  operation.  At least the rain had finally stopped, but not  before giving them a thorough soaking.  Unless they reached  some human habitation soon, Clark thought grimly, eyeing  the fading light, they were in for an extremely long and  uncomfortable night.

Rounding yet another curve in the path, Clark stopped short  and let out a sigh of profound relief.  Lois swayed and  then lifted her head, pushing a bedraggled lock of dark  hair out of her eyes.  Before them, nestled in a small  clearing, stood the outpost of civilisation that the path  had promised: a small, two-storey wooden cottage.

Clark urged Lois forward the last few steps, up to the  front door.  There was no bell, but Clark knocked firmly on  the door.  They waited, listening carefully, but there was  no sound of movement within.  Lois leaned wearily against  Clark as he knocked a second time.

"Hello!" he shouted.  There was no response.

Clark turned to Lois with a shrug.  "It must be a forestry  station," he said.  "Perhaps they've been called out to a  fire or something."

Lois looked at him out of the corner of her eye, too tired  even to raise an eyebrow.  "In this weather?  Hardly  likely," she remarked drily.

"Well, they won't begrudge us a bit of warmth and shelter,"  Clark said confidently, looking closely at the door.  It  was innocent of a lock or even a doorknob, and when he  lifted the old-fashioned latch it creaked open.

The interior of the cottage was dim and gloomy.  Clark  cautiously led the way inside, biting back a yelp as he  located a piece of furniture with his shin.  He bent  forward to identify it.  "Here's a chair," he said to Lois.   "Why don't you sit down, while I try to find a light switch  or some matches?"

Lois sank down thankfully on the chair and stretched out  her aching legs.  She could hear Clark fumbling around the  room; after a short while there was a satisfied grunt and  the sound of a match striking.  The small point of light  grew as Clark located and lit a couple of candles that were  embedded in mounds of old, melted beeswax on the rough  wooden mantelpiece.  He turned to smile at Lois.  "That's  better," he said.  "I'd better light a fire to warm the  place up."

Lois shifted uncomfortably.  The chair was a large upright  wooden one, and now that her muscles were relaxing it  seemed to be getting progressively harder.  She looked  around the single downstairs room in the dim candlelight.   It was primitive and sparsely furnished, but there were two  more chairs.  She moved to the next one.

This one was a large armchair, upholstered in a fussy  floral chintz.  Lois immediately found herself sinking  claustrophobically into its soft depths.  She hauled  herself to her feet again.

The third chair was a wooden rocking chair, smaller than  the others.  Belatedly realising that her clothes had left  wet patches on both the other chairs, Lois was also  relieved to see that this one was varnished.  She sat down  and discovered it was considerably more comfortable than  either of the others.  She sat rocking gently while Clark  busied himself with the fireplace.

A few minutes later, Clark had burnt his fingers twice, and  was coming to the conclusion that lighting a fire by the  normal method was a lot harder than he remembered.  He  shook his head ruefully as he realised that he'd used the  last match in the box, without producing more than a few  moments of sullen glowing and some acrid smoke.

He turned to where Lois was sitting, and was alarmed to see  that she had started to shiver violently.  He knelt next to  her chair and gathered her protectively into his arms,  trying to chafe some warmth into her.  As he leant against  the chair there was an ominous crack, and the next moment  he found himself lying on top of Lois amidst the ruins of  the chair.

There was a moment's silence, then Lois started to giggle.   "It's just not our day, is it?" she observed, as Clark  scrambled up and helped her to her feet.  He was relieved  to see that she was shivering less, but she still looked  very cold.

"I'm going upstairs to find some dry clothes," he decided.   "You should keep moving to stay warm.  Why don't you check  the kitchen area for more matches meanwhile?  I don't fancy  having to excavate one of those candles..."

Lois moved stiffly over to the cooking area and started to  look in the drawers and cupboards.  There were no matches  to be seen, and she constantly found her attention being  distracted by three bowls which were standing on the  counter.  Each had a spoon next to it, and each contained a  generous helping of ice cream.  Lois's stomach growled  loudly, reminding her just how long it had been since she'd  eaten.

Finally she couldn't restrain herself any longer.  Surely  the cottage's inhabitants wouldn't begrudge a hungry  traveller a bite to eat, she thought as she picked up the  nearest spoon.  She was surprised to find that the ice  cream was still frozen solid, and she had some difficulty  scooping out a mouthful.  It was almond - not her favourite  flavour.

She put down the spoon and picked up the next.  The ice  cream in this bowl was slushy, almost melted.  It was  strawberry ripple, and seemed to have had honey drizzled  over it.  Lois made a face as she laid the second spoon  down.

The third bowl was better.  Perfect, in fact, Lois amended  as she rolled the double-chocolate ice cream around in her  mouth and felt the chocolate chips melting on her tongue.   She swallowed and felt it slide down delightfully into her  grateful stomach.  Heaven, she sighed rapturously as she  lifted the spoon to her mouth again.

"I can't find any clothes upstairs," Clark said behind her.   Lois started and opened her eyes, astonished to find that  the bowl was empty.  She put the spoon down hastily and  turned to face him.

"There's nothing up there except some beds," Clark  continued.  "Not even a bathroom."

"That's odd," Lois said, frowning.  "There wasn't an  outhouse.  I wonder where they..."  Her voice trailed off.

Clark shrugged.  "In the woods, I guess," he said  dismissively.  He put an arm round her; she was shivering  again after the large helping of ice cream.  "I'm just  worried about getting you warm.  I think you'd better take  your wet things off, and get into bed."

Lois made her way slowly up the stairs, Clark fussing  solicitously behind her.  The upper floor also consisted of  a single large room, this time containing three beds.  Lois  turned back the covers on the first one, and retreated a  step as a musky odour rose from it.  It smelt almost as  though the cottage owners allowed a large animal - a dog,  perhaps? - to sleep in this bed.

Clark stepped forward and lifted back the covers on the  second bed.  "Use this one," he suggested.  Lois turned to  look.  The bed was made up with frilly pink covers and lacy  sheets, and there were several heart-shaped pillows.  Lois  couldn't restrain a grimace.

Clark chuckled.  "All right, that one," he said, gesturing  to the bed in the corner.  This one was smaller, but seemed  clean and was made up with plain blue linen.  Clark helped  Lois to take off her clothes and slip under the covers.  He  bent to kiss her, concerned to see her continuing to  shudder convulsively even after a few minutes in bed.

He shed his own clothes, dumping them in a pile on top of  hers, and got into bed with her, gathering her into a warm  embrace.  She murmured appreciatively and nestled her dark  head into his shoulder, her shivers diminishing at last.   Within a couple of minutes, her breathing told him that she  had dozed off.

He mustn't fall asleep, Clark told himself firmly.  He  needed to get up and hang Lois's clothes somewhere to dry,  and then go downstairs to meet the returning inhabitants  and explain what they were doing here.  Just a few minutes  more, to ensure that Lois was thoroughly warm and sound  asleep...

********************

Clark was awakened by an unfamiliar sound.  He lay for a  moment with his eyes closed, his arms wrapped around Lois,  trying to work out what the sound might be.  Suddenly he  heard an animal growling, only a few yards away.  His eyes  flew open and he saw a large bear, standing upright next to  the frilly bed.  A movement at the foot of the bed he and  Lois were lying in drew his attention.  A smaller bear was  standing there, and as he gaped at it in astonishment it  took a pace forward, opened its mouth to expose a fearsome  set of teeth, and emitted a loud, protracted snarl.

Something teased at the back of Clark's mind, but there was  no time to waste.  He flung one arm around the outside of  the quilt, clutching it and Lois close against him; then he shot off  the bed, scooped the pile of wet clothes up off the floor, and  headed down the stairs as fast as he could without jeopardising his cargo,  dodging a third, enormous bear en route  He closed his eyes for an  instant, desperately thankful that his powers had returned  during the night.  Then he negotiated the front door and  streaked into the night sky, heading for Metropolis and  home.

Lois woke as he disentangled her from the quilt in the  safety of their own bedroom.  He helped her back into bed,  fending off her sleepy questions with a promise to tell her  everything in the morning.

He lay awake for a while, mulling over their strange  adventure.  He had belatedly realised what had been  niggling at him when the bear had growled.  Along with the  audible frequency of the growling, he had also heard a  subsonic frequency forming recognisable words.

And the words had said, "Somebody's been sleeping in my  bed... and they're still here!"

Lois was never, ever going to believe it.

THE END

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