The Kiss of Death

By Nancy V. Sont aka Tipiwoman <nancyvsont@superaje.com> <nancysont@hotmail.com>

Rated: PG

Submitted: October 2004

Thanks to Labrat for her editing for the archive.

*****

Clark watched as the gun fired. He grabbed Lois' hand before the bullets arrived at his body, then fell to the ground, pulling Lois down with him. A groan escaped his body as his other hand flew to grab the bullets before they ricocheted from his chest onto Lois.

"Clark!" she wailed, hugging him as they hit the floor. She'd landed on top of him.

"You idiot, now we have to get rid of the stiff," Capone stated morosely, his cigar between his fingers as he waved his hand at Dillinger and Clyde, then at the corpses on the floor.

Lois ignored the sounds in the background as Clark whispered in her ear, "He didn't hit me, Lois, I'm faking it. Play along."

She held him tightly, playing the part well.

"It's too late, doll. Now come on, get off the stiff before I have to shoot you, too."

She didn't move. Several shots had been fired. Somehow he hadn't been hit. Lois sank deeply into him.

"The broad's dead, too? We got two stiffs?" Capone moaned.

The two limp bodies were hoisted into the back of the car and bumpily driven through town. Lois' body was atop Clark's, their faces together. His arms came around her in the darkness as her lips found his. He moaned in response to her kisses, hugging her closely. "This must be heaven," she whispered, pressing her mouth back against his, not completely sure if they were still alive and pretending or really dead.

Dillinger and Clyde came around to toss the bodies into the gutter. Clark reluctantly loosened his grasp from around her before the hood was lifted. Lois was limp as they pulled her body out and dragged it onto the ground, ruining her red dress. At least they hadn't dropped her from any great height, she thought to herself, but she knew now that she certainly wasn't dead.

They dumped Clark out, too, but he landed on top of her, breaking his fall onto her by stiffening his hands as they hit the ground beside her.

The two reporters lay motionless while the car doors slammed and the engine roared into the distance. Clark found Lois' lips first and hungrily kissed them. Lois pushed him slightly, helping him to roll off her while she kissed him back.

When the sound of the car had vanished, she pushed his head away. "So what was that all about?"

"I wanted to kiss you, and well, it just seemed like a good time, because when you figured out why I wasn't dead, you were going to kill me anyway, so it was my only chance. You had to have known I wanted to!" Clark was grinning.

"So how come you're not dead? I mean, I'm glad you're not. I don't know what I would have done if you'd died, but why aren't you...we...dead?"

Clark opened his hand, showing her the bullets. She gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. "Clark, they shot your hand!"

"No, Lois, I caught the bullets."

"What do you mean you caught the bullets? You can't catch bullets."

He grinned. "Yes, I can, it's an old family secret."

"No, you can't, Clark."

"Oh dear." He dropped his head back to the ground and played dead.

"Clark? Clark! Stop it, Clark, you're not dead."

"Only a kiss can revive me, dear one."

She swatted his side, but leaned back in for another kiss. "We do this a lot when we're dreaming."

"Um hum," he agreed. "All the time. And more."

"Clark Kent! She pulled away. "What do we do in your dreams?"

"Lois. It's a secret."

"Tell me, Kent."

"It's okay, Lois, in my dreams we're always married."

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