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MORNING CHORES

By ML Thompson  <thomplaw@tbaytel.net>

Rated G

Submitted July 2000

This is just a piece of fluff. It was originally a scene in a story  that I wrote. However, afterwards I decided I didn't like the story  enough to post it. The problem was that I did like this one scene.  So, I rewrote it to make it into an incident that happened one  morning during the episode, 'The Green Green Glow of Home' when  Lois and Clark were in Smallville.

If at some point in the future, I do decide to post the whole  story, you will have to forgive me for giving you this scene now.

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The sun was just coming up when Clark grabbed a bucket and milking  stool. Moving over to the right side of the old jersey cow, he set  down the stool. A deep guttural whistle escaped his lips as he  positioned himself on it. After quickly and expertly cleaning the  udder, he took a seat on the stool, fixing the bucket firmly  between his knees. He placed his head gently against the side of  the cow to let her know he was there and what he was about to do.  Using his heat vision to warm his hands, he gently reached under  Betsy and taking two diagonal teats in his hands, started a rhythm.

Squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt.

The cats carefully positioned themselves nearby, desperately trying  not to look too eager - and failing. As the reward for their  patience, Clark would occasionally direct a stream of milk in their  direction and then chuckle as he watched them leap for it.

Lois wandered into the barn, catching a glimpse of Clark milking  the cow.

"So, this is where you got to," Lois said, disturbing the rhythm he  had set. Betsy gave a stomp of disapproval.

"Just give me a moment," said Clark, returning to his task. For a  few moments the only sound was the regular rhythm of milk being  squirted into a bucket. Lois stared in fascination at the muscles  in Clark's arms as they moved under his skin while he milked the  cow.

Once the sound of milk in the bucket waned, Clark got up.

"Come here," he said to Lois, indicating the stool.

"Oh, I can't," responded Lois, taking an unconscious half step  back.

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Scared of a cow?" he asked.

Lois raised her chin and met his eyes dead on. Lois Lane was not  afraid of anything - particularly not a cow. "Move," she demanded,  moving in beside the cow to take a seat on the stool.

Clark smiled and stood back.

"Where's the bucket?" Lois demanded.

Clark handed her a new bucket, not wanting to risk the milk in the  bucket he had.

Lois gave an indignant sniff before attempting to imitate what  Clark had done earlier. She took her thumb and index finger and  gave a quick pull down on one of the teat. No milk came out.

"It's empty," she announced, rising from the stool relieved.

Clark roared with laughter.

"What?!" Lois asked.

He shook his head slightly before coming in behind her. "Sit," he  said gently. Seeing no way out of this, she followed his  instructions. He gently picked up the stool she was sitting on and  moved it a bit further under Betsy. When Betsy gave a disapproving  noise, Clark repeated the deep whistle. The sound made Betsy calm -  and caused Lois to involuntarily shiver. She closed her eyes for a  moment, feeling the heat of Clark's body as he knelt down directly  behind her. She swallowed hard, determined not to notice the  signals her body was beginning to send her.

"Okay, first, lay your head on Betsy's side. It lets her know where  you are. And it really is more comfortable," Clark instructed. Lois  hesitated before laying her head on the soft fir on Betsy's side.  Clark reached down and picked up the bucket she had set under the  cow. He raised it to her knees. "Spread your knees," he said.

"What?!"

"Umm... It's just that you need to hold the bucket between your  legs so that Betsy doesn't decide to kick it over."

"Does she do that often?" Lois asked, jumping back a bit, suddenly  conscious of the fact that she was very close to this big animal.  Of course, the action made her acutely aware that she was also very  close to the animal behind her.

"Lois, relax," Clark said, being mindful of how close her jump back  had placed them. When she did relax, he put the bucket in front of  her legs again. This time she moved her knees apart and he slid the  bucket between them. "Okay, next we need to warm your hands," Clark  said, taking her hands in his. "Betsy gives her milk easier if your  hands are warm."

Lois allowed him to warm her hands. In fact, she felt somewhat  powerless to stop him. He had wrapped his arms around her from  behind to accomplish this task. She leaned back slightly bringing  her back into contact with him. For a moment, his hands stilled.

Clark cleared his throat in an attempt to also clear his mind. If  he didn't know better, he would almost think that she had leaned  into him on purpose. However, he didn't move away. "Okay, the next  step is to begin milking. Just think of this as a massage."

"You want me to massage a cow?"

Clark laughed. He took her hands again and placed them on the two  teat he had not yet milked. "The reason there was no milk before  was because you were touching a teat that I had already finished  milking. Well, that and the way you did it. Okay, wrap your hand  around these two teat," Clark said, directing her hands on to the  cow. He covered her hands with his own. "Now, the thing to do here  is to squeeze slightly with the upper part of your hand while  running your hand slightly down the teat. Like this," Clark applied  firm but gentle pressure to her hand and pulled it down. A small  stream of milk squirted into the bucket. "Then, as you are moving  this hand back up, you do the same thing with the other hand," he  told her while directing the other hand.

For a few moments the only sound in the barn was the sound of milk  hitting tin as Lois' hands, under Clark's, milked the cow.

"So, do you do this often?" Lois asked.

"Milking?" Clark asked. "It was one of my chores growing up. I do  it now whenever I'm home."

"No, I mean teaching people how to milk."

"Oh... Well, Mom and Dad have a group of teenagers out here every  summer. They come from troubled homes and my folks figure getting  them out of the city on to the farm for a little while might help.  Whenever I'm here, I teach milking."

"Girls or boys?"

"What?"

"The kids that come out here, are they girls or boys?"

"Both," said a confused voice from behind her.

"And is this how you teach milking?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Lois smiled. "Let me guess, the girls enjoy the lessons more then  the boys."

"Well... yeah. The girls seem to like the animals more. The boys  like the machinery."

Lois didn't respond, although she couldn't keep the grin off her  face. She didn't think the desire of the girls to learn to milk had  anything to do with the animals. She was equally aware that Clark  hadn't put two and two together. They lapsed into silence.

Squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt.

Lois was no longer paying any attention to the cow. All she knew  was the startling sensation that being firmly in Clark's arms was  producing in her. She hadn't felt anything like this since...  since... She tensed slightly as she thought about the last time she  had felt this. It was when she was in Superman's arms. How could  this feel so much the same? It did briefly occur to Lois to move  away. But she couldn't seem to make herself do it. Finally, she  relaxed in his embrace, closing her eyes and revealing in the  feeling of warmth behind her. She refused to think about where this  was going. All she knew was she didn't want it to stop.

Clark was very conscious of the woman in his arms. His head was by  her cheek. Her hair was brushing against the side of his face. She  smelled so good. It was taking every bit of self control he  possessed to keep from kissing her neck. He tried, and failed, to  concentrate on the task of milking the cow. The increase in Lois'  heart rate was all but drowned out by the beating of his own heart.  He had never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted the  woman in his arms.

Squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt, squirt squirt.

A short time later, Lois felt her hands and arms begin to cramp  with the unfamiliar task. She slipped her hands out from under  Clark's. When he started to move away in response, she grabbed his  hands and moved them back on to the cow's teats, keeping his arms  on either side of her body. Her arms were sore, but when he began  to pull back, she panicked. Without thinking about what she was  doing, or the possible repercussions, she grabbed his hands and  moved them back, unwilling to allow him to release her from his  grasp.

As he began to milk again, her hands seemed to gain a mind of their  own - although for months afterwards she would wonder why she had  done it. She began running her hands over the back of his. Then her  hands began to move over his lower arms.

Clark let out a short breath. "Lois," he breathed into her ear.

She melted at the guttural sound of his voice. Her mind kept trying  to tell her to back off, to push out of his arms. Still, she didn't  do it. And all the time, the regular rhythm of milk squirting into  a bucket continued.

"Clark, Lois," came a woman's voice. "Are you two out here?"

Both Lois and Clark jumped. Fortunately, Clark caught the bucket  from between Lois' legs before it spilt the milk. They swiftly  moved away from one another.

"Over here, Mom," Clark said, as Martha came around the corner.

"I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready," Martha  said, before stopping and looking at the guilty expressions on the  faces of her son and his partner.

Lois cleared her throat. "Oh, Martha, thanks." She quickly headed  past Martha, toward the house.

"Are you coming, Clark?" Martha asked.

"I just need to strip the cow, Mom. Then I'll be right there,"  Clark said, knowing that he couldn't stop milking until he had  completely emptied Betsy's udder.

"Okay. Don't take too long. Breakfast is getting cold."

Lois got outside the barn and leaned against the wall for a moment.  What did she think she was doing in there? She didn't have romantic  feelings for Clark. She was in love with Superman. She rebuked  herself for being so totally irresponsible as she made a mad dash  for the house.

THE END

Thanks to my father for explaining to me the finer points of  milking a cow. My only experience was as a very young child at my  grandparent's place - and if I recall correctly, I couldn't make  any milk come (my hands were too small and I didn't have enough  strength).

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