Forget Me Not, Redux

by Pam Jernigan

FORGET ME NOT, REDUX

by Pam Jernigan (ChiefPam@nc.rr.com)

Thanks to everyone who gave encouraging reviews, and especially to Chris & Sarah.

Let's assume that in Forget Me Not, Lois was only an outpatient  at the medical clinic.  The A-plot would be essentially unchanged - Lois, while being in treatment, would notice strange things and figure out the bad guy's plot.  You've seen it, it's nothing special, I won't recreate it here.  The B-plot, however, would go more like this...

FORGET ME NOT, REDUX

“Lois, are you sure you're okay?” Clark asked anxiously. Although Lois had mostly recovered from her injuries, and could function in many ways, her personal memories had not yet returned.  She'd had a steady stream of visitors over the past two days (her parents, his parents, their boss and others).  With pictures and documents, they'd told her about her life.

Clark had been there most of the time, answering her questions, telling her stories of their lives, watching her sleep.  He'd ignored the rest of the world; she needed him more, and he needed to be with her.  In more ways than one.  Mindful that she barely knew him, he'd struggled to act like a brother to her, not showing any hint of his desire for her.  He was determined not to make her uncomfortable in any way.  Being patient had worked before; it would work this time, too.  He had to believe that, because he couldn't face a life without her.

“I'm *fine*,” Lois insisted testily from behind the privacy screen, struggling into the last of her clothing.  She'd been in the hospital for two days now, and she was thoroughly sick of it.  All bland, blank walls and cheerfully noncommittal nurses. She still didn't remember much of her life, but that was no reason to hide from the world.  She suspected that she'd never been one to back down from a challenge.

“Maybe you should stay here a little while longer,” Clark suggested uncertainly.  He didn't want to do anything to hamper her full recovery.

“No, I won't, and that's final.”  Now fully dressed, she stepped around the screen to face him.  His eyes were full of a concern that warmed her heart.  He was so amazingly kind.  She'd been told that as well as being her partner at work, he was her fiance.  At first the knowledge of their engagement had caused an odd thrill of fright, but as she'd considered it, and seen his innate gentleness, the fear had melted away.  This man could surely be trusted with her life.

And with her body?  She couldn't remember if he was her type, or if she even had a type, but she found that she enjoyed watching him.  The lock of hair that fell so engagingly over his forehead, the breadth of his shoulders, even his strong, gentle hands... all of these and more were starting to make her shiver in breathless anticipation of his visits, in hopes of his kiss.  She could tell he loved her, she reflected in wonderment.  It was there in the way he treated her, in the way he looked at her... and there was desire in there, as well, she'd glimpsed it...

At the moment, however, he was looking harassed and beleaguered.  She hid a smile.  Her visitors had all mentioned that she tended to lead their partnership, and based on his reactions, she could believe it.  He was resisting now, though, and she supposed he might have a good reason.

“Out with it, Clark, what's the problem?”  she asked, arms crossed.

He looked at her helplessly for a second, then sighed.  “Well, you were kidnapped right during the wedding ceremony.”  A familiar stab of guilt assailed him at the thought, but he steadfastly ignored it.  Dwelling on what might have been was too painful.

“Yeah, and...?”  Talk of her wedding--a wedding she couldn't even begin to imagine--caused her stomach to flutter, a sensation she preferred to deny at the moment.

“Lois... you'd already moved into my apartment, and out of yours.  It's been leased to someone else already; I checked.” He watched her anxiously.

“Oh.”  She sat down on the hospital bed, feeling as if she'd had the wind knocked out of her.  So, she had nowhere to live. Nowhere, unless... she looked up at Clark speculatively, and made up her mind.  She took a deep breath and spoke quickly, not giving herself a chance to reconsider.

“That's all right.  I can stay with you.”

Clark felt his eyebrows raise in astonishment.  She had, in a way, only known him for two days, and she was proposing to move in with him?   It had taken him over two years to win that much trust, the first time around, to get through her protective layers.  Surely even a memory loss couldn't erase such deeply ingrained barriers.

She smiled tremulously at his surprised expression.  “If I want to get my memory back, I should stay in familiar surroundings, right?  All my things seem to be at your place, and I guess I was probably pretty familiar with it, anyway, wasn't I?”

“Yeah...” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, there you go then.”  She stood again, gathering her courage.  This would work out just fine; it had to.  “The only other place I could think of to stay would be with my mother, in her hotel room, but just between you and me, I don't think she and I get along very well.”

He quirked a smile.  “No, not really.”

Lois took a moment to appreciate what a great smile he had, reassuring herself.  She smiled back at him.  “Then you have no choice, do you?  You have to help me; I'm homeless.”

He sighed once more, looking around the room for guidance that wasn't there.  Could she really mean what she was saying, that she trusted him to be that close to her and not try anything? Could he trust himself?

Lois saw the worry written across his face and advanced until she was standing close enough to rest her forearms on his chest, her hands exploring his shoulders.  She noted that he automatically opened his arms to receive her.  His nearness, his *body* felt good, setting off waves of desire outward from where his hands rested on her hips.  “Clark, look at me.”

He looked down into her intent brown eyes.  God, she was beautiful, and he still marveled that he had found her again.  He didn't care how long it took her to regain her memory, he could wait months if he had to, as long as she was safe.

“Clark,” she repeated, all trace of amusement gone.  “There are a million things that I don't know about you, that I don't know about me.  But I do know this.  You are kind, patient, and more considerate than I deserve.  And my... previous self... wanted to marry you.  How could I not trust you?”

How could he resist her?  “Okay.  Let's get you out of here.”

It took some time to complete the paperwork, but the hospital staff could no more stand in her way than Clark could.  She would be an outpatient at a local memory clinic/sanitarium for the next few weeks, but she was free to stay wherever she chose.&nbsp;

***

As Clark drove her Jeep to his apartment, an air of tension rose between them.  Lois kept sneaking looks at him, when she thought he wouldn't notice.  Who was this man?  How well did she know him; how well did he know her?  They were engaged (by unspoken agreement, that engagement was on indefinite hold, but she had no urge to break it); had they been... intimate?  She felt her cheeks flushing, feeling excited by the prospect.  She knew general things about lovemaking, but it was all distant, impersonal.

Clark was aware that she was looking at him, darting glances at his face, and at his body.  He shifted uncomfortably as he drove.  What was the matter with him?  She was injured, and barely knew who he was.  He shouldn't even be thinking of making love to her.  But he was.  Under the cover of checking the Jeep's blind spots, he kept an eye on her.  She was pale, and thinner than she should be... but she still took his breath away.  And he was going to be sharing his apartment with her. He swallowed hard.

“Well, here we are.”  His tone was determinedly cheerful as he pulled into the parking spot.  Lois looked around, hoping for a glimmer of memory, but none came.

“Nice place,” she offered, to let him know that nothing was coming back.

He nodded, not really disappointed.  He knew that when he'd lost his memory, two years earlier, it had taken time for familiar people and places to bring him back to himself.  He got out of the Jeep and headed for her side to open her door and help her out.  He found her standing on the sidewalk, looking around.  He smiled despite himself.  Some things apparently didn't change.

“The entrance is around the side.”  He touched her elbow to guide her, and she fell in step next to him.

Lois felt a jolt of awareness at his touch.  It was only his hand on her elbow, for pete's sake.  She had to get control of herself. At least until she had some answers.  “Oh, what an unusual entrance!” she exclaimed, enchanted by the wrought-iron porch.

He smiled tightly as he fumbled with his lock.  Taking a deep breath, he swung the door open.  “Welcome home.”

Lois stood on the threshold, seeing his apartment as if for the first time.  It was more or less all one room, decorated with souvenirs of his trips around the world; he'd told her about that sometime yesterday.  She noticed a tenseness about him, and suddenly realized how hard this must be for him.  He'd expected to bring a bride here, not a virtual stranger.  She turned to meet his eyes, surprised to feel a glimmer of tears in her own eyes.  “Oh, Clark, this isn't what we planned, is it, for me to not know you...”

Clark felt his heart twist at her wistful expression.  On its own accord, his left hand reached up to cup her cheek, and she tilted her head into his palm, the way she always did.  “No,” he admitted hoarsely.  “But I'm just... so grateful, that you're safe, that you're here, that you don't hate me.”

She enjoyed the touch of his hand on her cheek - it was an unusual gesture, and yet it felt so natural.  How could a simple touch make her feel so good?  “I don't think I could ever hate you,” she whispered, running her gaze over his face, focusing on his gorgeous eyes, and his full lips.  On impulse, she raised herself on tiptoes and leaned forward to kiss him.  It was a quick kiss, a mere brushing of their lips, but it left her breathless and tingling.

Clark closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “God, Lois, don't do that.”  I can't control myself if you do that, and I have to control myself.

Hurt, she stepped away, and entered the apartment.  A few steps later, however, she thought she understood, and she was ashamed of herself.  He was determined to treat her like a sister, to not take advantage of her.  She shouldn't make things harder for him.  Unless, of course, her treacherous inner voice whispered, you want him to take advantage of you.  She smiled.

A few deep breaths gave Clark back his balance, and he followed his fiancee into the apartment.  She was looking around appraisingly, carrying her small bag from the hospital. Acting as if nothing had happened, he pointed out the apartment's features.  “Okay, here's the living room, with the new lamps we bought after the old ones were shot up.”  The lamps were one of few features they'd purchased together; they had been waiting until after the honeymoon to make decisions on major pieces of furniture.  “In the kitchen, we have all the regular kitchen stuff - plus I stocked up on cream soda and chocolate ice cream for you.”

She followed him, looking around with interest.  “I like ice cream?”

He chuckled.  “You like chocolate.”

“Ahh, that's good to know.”  She nodded wisely.  “Good thing I have you to tell me all this stuff.”

“Just ask, and I'll tell you what I know,” he promised.

“So why were the lamps shot up?”  She turned to face him, with an inquiring expression.

He grimaced, wishing he hadn't mentioned that detail.  “This couple was trying to kill me, and kidnap you...”  He really didn't want to tell that story in any detail.  The subject of Superman had come up several times in the past two days.  So far, he'd always managed to gloss over things, only telling her what was general knowledge.  He fully intended to come clean to her again sometime soon, but not yet.  Not until they had some other things sorted out.

She lifted one eyebrow.  “This happens to us a lot, does it?”

He shrugged helplessly.  “We're reporters,” he temporized. “And we're good at it, especially you, so sometimes people don't appreciate us investigating them.”

“Good thing we've got Superman to look out for us then, huh.” She could tell that he wasn't telling her everything on that particular topic, but it could wait.  One mountain at a time, Lois.  She wandered further into the kitchen.

“Yeah.”  Clark let it go at that, glad to escape the topic. “Okay, behind this wall is the bedroom...”  The tension that had leaked away earlier was suddenly back as they stood by the side of the bed.

Lois swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.  Had she spent much time in that bed?  They obviously hadn't been living together, but that didn't mean they hadn't slept together.  She looked up at him, wondering if she dared to ask.

Clark commanded himself to think of something to say, anything to move the focus away from his bed... the bed he longed to be in, with her a full and willing participant.  It's not an option, Clark, he told himself sternly.  Behave.  You don't want to scare her.  He looked around the room, searching for something to say.  “Um, no one can see in the windows, so you don't have to worry about that.”  That was better, he told himself encouragingly.  “Over here's the dresser - you've got the top two drawers, and most of the closet.”  He pulled open the top drawer to demonstrate, and froze when he saw her lacy undergarments lying there.  Good one, Clark.  He pushed the drawer shut after an endless moment, but it was too late.  He could feel his blood rushing southward, bringing him back to the familiar, aching fullness that had begun with her innocent kiss.

Lois was too far away to see into the drawer Clark opened, but she could guess the contents by his expression.  A blush crept over her cheeks, but more importantly, she thought this was a clue.  He wasn't familiar enough with her underthings to be blase about them.  That was interesting.

Clark moved blindly back towards the living room.  He couldn't stay here much longer, not with them both upright.  “I'll sleep on the couch.”

She followed him, feeling curiously elated.  She could tell, now, that he was just as affected by her as she was by him, and it was equally clear that he didn't intend to act on his feelings. This seemed to leave her in control.  A familiar, safe feeling, but thrilling at the same time.  Just like flying...  where had that thought come from?

***

The evening passed slowly.  Clark was very business-like, drawing on years of painful experience in controlling his feelings around Lois as he told her about their stories and their sources.  Her nearness still affected his breathing, though, and he was achingly aware of every move she made.

Using the excuse of getting them dinner, he took a break around eight.  He wanted to take time for a quick trip to the Arctic (he somehow didn't think a cold shower would be enough, and besides, in order to take one, he'd have to explain himself to Lois, and he just didn't feel up to that conversation) before heading for their favorite Chinese take-out restaurant.  Before he could get far, however, he'd heard the familiar refrain of, “help, Superman!” and he'd had to respond - he'd neglected the world for too long already.

Left completely alone for the first time in days, Lois wandered around the apartment.  She saw many pictures of herself, alone and with Clark.  They both looked so happy.  She picked up one of the pictures, and wistfully touched Clark's image with a finger.  Why couldn't she remember anything about her life?

The more time she spent with Clark, the more she wanted him. This boldness, inexplicably, surprised her.  Had she been previously uninterested in sex?  She couldn't see herself as shy, unless perhaps she'd had bad experiences before meeting Clark...  With those memories gone, perhaps her true desires were coming out.  Whatever the reason, she'd felt herself hungering for him, leaning towards him as he'd spoken about invisible men, cyborgs, and Intergang.  None of those topics had been anywhere near as fascinating to her.

She decided to sit in the living room to watch the door for his return, but that didn't feel right.  A restlessness gnawed at her, so she rose to pace again.  Her steps took her into the bedroom. In the darkness, the bed was even more inviting (and she was tired) but that wasn't quite right, either.  A-ha!  The window seat, under those wonderful glass panels.  She curled onto one end of it, arranging pillows around her.  She could see a strip of sky from here, and most of the apartment's small balcony.  She couldn't explain why, but this felt like the perfect place to wait.

One small job for Superman had turned into three.  Clark was glad to have challenges to expend his energies on, problems he was well able to fix.  As soon as he could, however, he hurried back to his apartment.  Lois wouldn't know why he'd been gone so long, and he wasn't sure what to tell her.

He unlocked the door quietly.  She wasn't in the living room, and his heart stopped for a moment before churning into overdrive.  A quick x-ray scan located her, to his great relief. He took a moment to make sure he'd stopped shaking, and walked into the bedroom.  She was curled up with her head resting on the glass, fast asleep, and looking very uncomfortable.

“Lo-is,” he murmured softly, indulgently.  He recognized her spot - this was where she used to wait for him to come home. She must have been very tired.  The doctor had said that she could use all the rest she could get, but she couldn't stay there all night.

He gently slipped his arms around her, gathering her to his chest.  She turned in her sleep and snuggled into his shoulder, making soft noises.  He stood stock still for a moment, reveling in her response despite his frustration, and then turned to carry her to the bed, floating over the floor to avoid the possibility of his footsteps waking her.

Clark gently lowered her to the bed, wishing with all his heart he could join her.  She moaned a protest when he withdrew his arms.  Unable to resist, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, then settled back on his heels to watch her.  He'd spent many hours in the hospital, watching her sleep.  She'd never been so beautiful or so tempting as she was now, in his bed.  He could only hope she'd be comfortable sleeping in her clothes, because there was no way he trusted himself to remove them.

He tiptoed out of the bedroom and turned off all the lights in the apartment.  If he could do nothing else, he could still guard her sleep.

***

Lois woke, confused.  Why did she feel like she was lying down?   She had been sitting up.  She stirred, and opened her eyes.  Ah, she was in bed - Clark must have carried her.  She glanced around the room, which was dimly illuminated by the neon sign on the adjacent building.  Where was Clark, anyway? She rose up on one elbow.  “Clark?”

Almost before she'd finished calling his name, he was there, standing in the archway.  How did he do that?

“I'm here, Lois.  Are you okay?”

She thought about it for a moment.  “I don't know.  I had some really strange dreams.”

He entered the room cautiously.  “About?”

“You, me, Superman... all mixed up.  Clark, I need to ask you something.”  She gathered up her courage.  “You've told me all about work, now tell me about us.”

“Us?”  He cocked an eyebrow at her.  He'd expected a question about Superman.  That suddenly seemed like it would have been an easier issue to deal with.

“Yeah, you know, us.”  She was blushing, but her voice was steady.  She arranged the pillows so that she was sitting up against the headboard, and held out a hand to him.  Slowly, reluctantly, he crossed the floor to sit on the edge of the bed.

Clark was terribly nervous.  He was afraid that she didn't want him, he was afraid that she did.  Mostly, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, or of losing control and kissing her the way he wanted to.  “What do you want to know?”  His voice was husky.

Now that she had him here, she was unsure how to proceed, but she was determined to clear some things up.  “How long have we been engaged?  How long had we dated before then?”

“We were only engaged a few months.  And, well, we didn't really ”date“ much before then - we knew each other, and worked together, but didn't have many real dates.”

That was interesting, but didn't really tell her what she wanted to know.  “But we were in love, right?”

He smiled at a happy memory, his teeth flashing in the semi-darkness of the bedroom.  “Yeah, we were.  And after a while, we even admitted it to each other.”

Another clue.  They'd had a difficult courtship, apparently. Maybe there were other reasons that they hadn't moved in together.  The next question was the most difficult, but she had to know.  “Clark,” she almost whispered, “were we lovers?”

Clark groaned at the images that word evoked.  Images from many passionate evenings danced in front of his eyes.  He had trouble making his voice work.  “No.  We kissed... and things... but we'd both decided to wait until we were married before taking the big step.”

Lois mulled this over.  She wasn't quite surprised, but she still didn't understand.  She looked away from Clark, glad for the darkened room.  “Why?”  she asked softly.  “Why did we want to wait?”

Clark kneaded his hands on his thighs, keeping himself on a tight leash.  He swallowed again.  “There were a couple of reasons.  You had had some bad experiences, so you were a little unsure.”  He studied the far wall as if it contained the secrets of the universe.  “I'm kind of traditional.  And I, ah, well... I've experimented a little, gotten pretty close... but I've never actually made love to anyone.”

Lois filed the information about her previous experience, but she was blown away by his revelation.  Amazed and touched.  This gorgeous man had waited - for her?  What a precious gift.  She had suspected he was a romantic.  She reached out to hold his hand.  “Well, as far as I can remember, neither have I.”

Clark looked down at her tiny hand on his, heard her attempt at a joke, and felt his control slipping away.  The weeks of alternating highs and lows, of doubt and fear, of needing to be strong, suddenly caught up with him.  To his horror, he began to cry.  “Oh, god, Lois.  I've missed you so much, needed you so much...”

Lois heard the ragged edge of exhaustion in his voice.  He must have been worrying, waiting for weeks now; no wonder he was worn out.  She swung her legs out of the way and hugged him as best she could.  He instantly turned towards her, holding her tight, burying his face in her hair.  She soothed him and patted his back as a few sobs escaped.

Clark didn't know how long he clung to her, drinking in the feel of her body, the scent of her hair, the sound of her voice murmuring reassurances.  She was there, she was safe, everything was okay.  When he had recovered enough to stop crying, he pulled back just far enough to see her face.  She removed his glasses and gently wiped away his tears, her heart in her eyes.  He cupped her face in his hands, and slowly leaned in for a kiss.

Lois watched him approach breathlessly.  A small part of her brain noted how different he looked without his glasses, but she ignored it as unimportant.  He was giving her plenty of time to escape the kiss, a kiss she had no intention of evading, a kiss she had been waiting for as long as she could remember.  She closed her eyes and tipped her face up to await his touch.

His lips brushed hers gently, then retreated a few millimeters. She smiled, but quickly wanted more.  Her lips parted of their own volition, and she closed the distance between them. Finding her mouth open, he moaned and set his tongue questing after hers.  They met in the middle, dancing passionately.  His hands left her face to trail down her sides and across her back, leaving shimmering paths of desire along her skin.

She ran one hand through his silky hair, while the other attacked his shirt, working the soft material loose from his waist.

The touch of Lois's hand on his bare midriff brought Clark back to his senses.  He pulled back from the kiss, far enough to see her face.  She was wide-eyed and panting slightly, looking sexier than he'd ever seen her.  But if he took advantage of her now, he'd never forgive himself.  “Wait.”  It was the single most difficult word he'd ever said.

“Why?”  She didn't need her memory to know that she wanted to do this.  It was right, more right than anything she'd ever done, she felt it deep inside.  Along with an aching hunger for this one special man.

He was breathing heavily, too, he noticed in a distant corner of his brain.  “Because...” He was having trouble articulating a reason.  “Because you don't know what you're doing.”

She shook her head, dead serious.  “Oh yes I do.  I loved you before, and I love you now - all I've lost are details.”  She searched for ways to convince him.  “We made it to the church, we had every intention of getting married - it's not our fault that it didn't happen.  I don't want to wait anymore.”

“Well then,” he countered, with a flash of dark humor. “Because *I* don't know what I'm doing, remember?”

She laughed huskily, sending shivers down his spine.  “Let's learn together,” she suggested, then sobered.  “Please, Clark, I need you.  Please, be my first time...”

His good intentions vanished before her obvious sincerity. More confidently than before, he reached for her, bridging the gap between them.  This time, there would be no pulling back.

***

Lois woke and stretched languidly, feeling wonderful for no reason that she could recall.  She froze when her outstretched hand hit something warm and solid, but then memory of the previous night flooded back, and she opened her eyes with a smile.  “Morning, Clark.”

“Morning, Lois,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear, reveling in the sight of her in his bed, in the touch of her hand on his bare chest.  How long had he waited for a morning like this?  It wouldn't be perfect until she had her memory back, but that should be soon; this Dr. Deter she would be seeing today was supposed to be the best.  On impulse, just because he could, he leaned forward and kissed her.

She returned the kiss, closing her eyes to devote her senses to it.  It had been a spectacular night.  Their mood had been changeable, from explosive to sweet, tender to funny, and they hadn't gotten much sleep.  She reluctantly opened her eyes again when he pulled back.

He propped himself on an elbow, watching her.  She noted with amusement that he'd put on a pair of sleeping shorts at some point, and he was already wearing his glasses, too...  She glanced down at herself, covered only by a thin sheet, and grinned.  “You're overdressed.”

He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, and elsewhere, but merely smiled.  She was still recovering.  “I made breakfast for you.  Come on out when you're dressed.”

She watched him leave, noting from his profile that he wasn't as indifferent as he sounded.  “I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you!” she called after him.  Sensitive, sexy, and he cooked... what more could she ask for?

***

“Superman!”  At the sanitarium, late that afternoon, Lois waved to the superhero that she was starting to remember.  During her day there, she'd noted strange happenings, and had stumbled across an assassin for Intergang - apparently reporter's instincts don't have anything to do with memory.  Luckily, Superman had arrived in time to save the day.

He detached himself from the newly arrived policemen and walked over to her, the cape waving in the breeze.  He looked strangely familiar, but she ignored the feeling of deja-vu; she suspected it would be pretty common for a while.

“Yes, Lois?” he asked in what he hoped was an impersonal tone, fighting his body's reaction to her.  They'd spent hours last night exploring each other before drifting off to an exhausted sleep, but he still hadn't found the time to explain about Superman.

“I'm starting to remember things, Superman!”  she announced excitedly.

He smoothed his face to a stern expression.  What if she remembered her crush on Superman?  Well, he'd just explain things to her again, if necessary, but the mere thought that she could fall for someone else after spending the night with Clark made him tense up.  “That's good, Lois,” he replied belatedly.

She smiled brilliantly.  “I need you to find Clark for me.”

Oh really?  This was interesting.  “I can take you to him,” he offered.

She nodded, and he scooped her up, trying valiantly to think of her as a sister.  At least from this position, she couldn't see how tight his briefs were becoming.  He flew her away from the sanitarium, towards Centennial Park, and the fountain where they'd gotten engaged.  He wasn't above subtle hints.

She looked around blankly when he set her down.  That fountain was vaguely familiar, but she didn't take the time to chase down the memory.  “Where's Clark?”  Superman looked around, and she suddenly was afraid he would leave.  “No, wait, I want to talk to you first.”

He crossed his arms and looked at her, unsure of what to expect.  She started pacing, but glanced at him frequently as she talked.  “I don't remember a lot, very clearly, but I think I remember that you... that you have romantic feelings for me.”

Clark had no idea how he should respond to this, but she didn't seem to require any input from him.

“I just want to make sure you know that I'm in love with Clark. And I have been, for a lot longer than I ever told anyone, I think.”

He blinked in surprise, temporarily speechless.  Sometimes it still amazed him that she could love him at all, let alone that she could prefer *Clark* to Superman.  She kept proving it to him, though, again and again, and it never failed to awe him.

She saw the thunderstruck expression on his face, and winced. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you....”

He shook his head slowly, and managed to reply.  “You haven't hurt me, Lois.”  He began to smile, feeling happier than he'd ever expected to.  In a way, this was even better than last night.

Lois saw Superman's smile for the first time, and gasped, her eyes narrowing.  This was more than deja-vu... she'd seen that smile, just recently... she searched his face, and the light dawned.  “Clark?  Is that you?”

Clark nodded, his smile broadening.  She slowly began to return the smile, and then suddenly she was in his arms.  “I remember.”

He held her tightly, and rose off the ground.  It was time to head for home... *their* home.

THE END

I can't take credit for this last scene with Superman, this was apparently written by the L&C writers as an ending to FMN - this scene was actually filmed and included in an early director's cut (thanks, Zoomway!).  I like it much better than what replaced it, so I've added it back into my version.