Rapture In Metropolis

By Wendy Richards <Wendy@lcfanfic.com> & Kaethel  <Kaethel@wanadoo.fr>

Rated PG 13

Submitted November 2002 ______________________

Authors' notes:

Wendy: Yes, it's the Evil-ish Team again; we had so much fun  writing Desperate Measures together, leaving each other in  evil situations as we wrote, that we decided to do it  again. And what can I say, other than that Kaethel is a  terrific writing partner and friend. I'm in awe of her  talent, and can't wait for her to finish all of those  tantalising WIPs on her computer!

Kaethel: I should have known that Wendy wouldn't resist the pull of  a not-so-subtle nag. ;) But it works for her, too! The  gentle readers don't suspect how many wonderful WIPs are  hiding on Wendy's hard drive. <g> It's an honour for me to  write with such a talented author, and I was ecstatic when  she suggested this second collaboration. As soon as she  showed me the first page, I was fascinated with the premise  and eager to explore it with the wonderful co-author that  she is. :) So here's the result, and we hope you will enjoy  reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it!

Many thanks to JoMarch and LabRat for being the ever  resourceful and encouraging beta-readers. Thanks also to  Meredith Knight for the very helpful suggestions that made  us add a series of paragraphs to explore a plot point that  she wanted to see more developed. Last but certainly not  least, we'd like to thank Carol Malo, who edited this  fanfic for the archive. This story was written for our  friends Katie and Missy on their birthdays.

All rights to the characters belong to DC Comics and Warner  Brothers. No breach of copyright is intended by their use  in this work of fiction.

______________________

~ Rapture in Metropolis ~ By Wendy & Kaethel

As Clark took her face between his hands and covered her  lips with his, he felt an involuntary shuddering sensation  run through him. This felt right - just so incredibly  *right*.

For just a couple of seconds, he could allow himself to  forget that this could never be for real; that when he  released her, Lois would probably slap his face and treat  him like the lowest form of life for the rest of the  evening.

Still, he had his excuse, as she'd find out very soon. His  special abilities had alerted him to the fact that they  were about to be interrupted by the maid, and he'd had to  do something, fast, to hide their equipment and to live up  to their cover as honeymooners. A passionate kiss, their  bodies full-length on the bed, had seemed the obvious  solution.

Besides which, Lois herself had told him, on a previous  occasion when preserving their cover had been all- important, that he should have pretended a moment of  uncontrollable passion. She could hardly complain that he'd  taken her advice, could she? Or so he'd point out to her,  anyway, when she threw the Mad Dog-like tantrum which he no  doubt had coming to him.

For now, though, he could surrender himself to the  incredible feeling of kissing Lois, touching her, feeling  her body next to his, feeling her, unbelievably, kissing  him back... for the precious few seconds he had before the  maid would interrupt them.

*********

"More towels, ja?"

The German-accented voice of the maid broke through Lois's  dazed consciousness, and she pushed at Clark in shocked  reaction. At the same moment, he rolled away from her a  little, turning to look in apparent surprise at the woman  standing just inside the door.

And yet Clark couldn't have been surprised by her entrance  - it had to be the reason he'd kissed her. She couldn't  think of any other reason why her partner would have turned  caveman all of a sudden, grabbing her and practically  throwing her on the bed and dropping his own body down  beside her, almost on top of her. And then covering her  mouth with his...

At first, she'd been too shocked to do anything other than  freeze beneath him. But then the surprisingly gentle  pressure of his lips against hers had made her catch her  breath and...

And she'd kissed him back. Had been kissing him back still  when the sound of the maid's entrance had penetrated her  hazy brain and the penny had dropped.

It had been a clever move by Clark, all right, she  acknowledged as the woman left her towels and headed for  the door again. Very quick-thinking, and the perfect thing  to emphasise their cover. Her partner was a better actor  than she'd thought... that kiss had felt *real*.

Some part of her had wanted it to be real...

And now she was feeling... cheated?

The slam of the door brought her gaze back to Clark, who  was still lying propped up on his side beside her, facing  her. He was watching her, and the look in his eyes was  wary, as if he was worried about what she might say. And  yet behind the wariness was something else... something  she'd thought she'd seen in her partner's eyes once before.  Something which told her that the kiss hadn't entirely been  an act on Clark's part...

And, watching the way his beautiful brown eyes were  regarding her, the way they had darkened with suppressed  desire, Lois felt another shudder run through her.  Mesmerised by his gaze, she realised that she wanted him to  kiss her again, this time for real...

********

She wasn't mad at him... in fact, she was looking at him as  if she was stunned, and there was a vulnerable look in her  eyes which made his heart turn over. Clark had known that  his coolly efficient partner had a vulnerable side, but  seeing it laid bare like this, and in these circumstances,  made him want to enfold her in his arms and tell her how  much he loved her.

Then her expression changed, and their gazes met and held  as what felt like an electrical charge went through both of  them, connecting them to each other.

Slowly, holding his breath as he did so, Clark lowered his  head again until his lips covered hers.

This time, his kiss was less tentative, and she responded  instantly, her lips softening under his and her body  shifting to allow him to get closer to her. He slid one  hand along her jaw and into her hair, and simultaneously  her hand came to rest across his back. Then her lips parted  beneath his, and his body jerked as he felt her tongue  stroke lightly along the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, Lois..." he groaned, deepening the kiss as a wave of  pure desire flowed through him.

*********

She was utterly lost, swept away on a wave of sensual  yearning which was completely alien to her. Who would have  thought that *Clark*, her country boy, goody-two-shoes  partner, could evoke such passion in her? Who would have  thought that he knew how to kiss so skillfully?

But he did. His lips teased and taunted hers; his tongue  traced the outline of her lips and tantalised her until he  allowed it to surge forward, exploring her mouth with it.  His hands curved around her shoulders, then one slid up and  caressed her face, her hair, telling her without words how  beautiful he found her.

His kiss wasn't hurried or demanding; instead, he took the  time to explore her tenderly, with infinite sweetness. The  movements of his hands were languid, brushing slow circles  against her back as she pressed herself against him,  holding her but always careful to grant her an escape if  she wanted to pull away.

And, she realised with a small start, she didn't want to  end the moment, to shove her partner away and accuse him of  taking advantage of her, of pushing the pretence too far.  Oh yes, she wanted this, she wanted to feel his lips  plunder hers relentlessly, pulling her into a world of  bliss and insouciance, she wanted -

A startled gasp escaped her as he rolled them over, but the  strangled sound was swallowed in another kiss, his lips  assaulting her with increasing passion. His strong body was  pinning her to the mattress and the sensation was  incredible. His groan of her name had filled her with a  thrilling sense of power but, much to her amazement, being  trapped beneath him didn't make her feel threatened or at  his mercy. On the contrary, she willingly surrendered to  his touch with breathless sighs of pleasure, arching her  back as much as to lighten the tortuous path of his hands  as to feel closer to him. He seemed attuned to her  reactions, intensifying his kisses in response to the  desire burning under her skin.

She reached up to knock the glasses off his face and was  surprised when he pulled away, his brown eyes looking down  at her, lost and vulnerable. God... he was gorgeous. How  come she'd never noticed before how attractive he was? How  the gentleness reflected in the depth of his eyes was a  trap she could fall into...

Oh yes, she wanted him. She had no idea where the  incongruous thought had come from, and frankly, she didn't  care. All that mattered right now was that he was in her  arms, gazing at her as if she was the most precious gift in  the universe, making her feel more special than any man had  before.

Her fingers cupped his cheek; her smile silently reassured  him. Then she reached up again, closing her lips over his  and losing herself in a pool of sweetness.

Slowly, almost timidly, her hands began exploring the  breadth of his back where taut muscles flexed under her  touch. Encouraged by his reactions, she pulled his shirt  out of his slacks, seeking the warmth of his skin and  shivering when she found it. Soon, though, it wasn't  enough, and even as Clark seemed satisfied with chaste  caresses, carefully skirting around any controversial...  advance in their current business, she needed more, and  therefore got practical.

Her hands slid between their clasped bodies, fumbling with  the buttons of his shirt. A flicker of surprise passed  through her when they gave way without much effort on her  part, as if tugging the sides apart was more than enough to  open the garment, but the thought was quickly forgotten as  his chest got exposed to her searching fingers. Deciding  this needed further and more thorough exploration, she  wrapped her arms around his waist and pushed him until they  rolled together on their side.

An ominous crack and mild curse from her partner  temporarily pulled her out of the intense need raging  within her, but a shove of Clark's arm pushed the  surveillance equipment off the bed, its fall softened by  the blanket still wrapped around it. Perry wouldn't be  happy about this, she mused idly, the idea sounding  completely irrelevant to her when her partner's kisses were  driving her insane. He'd probably ask for a... oh... god...  he was so good... at this... explanation, but right now...  oh... Clark... he wasn't here and...

Her train of thought died, incoherent desire coiling in the  pit of her belly as Clark smothered her throat with open- mouthed kisses, his questing fingers deftly working their  way down the buttons of her shirt, his lips immediately  covering the bare skin he exposed.

And suddenly, she knew with a certainty that baffled her  that she wanted to go all the way with him, that she wanted  Clark to make love to her, that there would be no  hesitation, no regret. Never any regret.

<What about your budding friendship?>

Friendship... how could she have fooled herself into  believing they could become friends? They'd never be  friends. Not when he was pressing delicate and hungry  kisses, circling her navel with his tongue and... oooh...  friends? Oh... no, not friends. Definitely not friends. Not  after... this.

Whatever happened, they'd deal with it. She'd deal with it.  It wasn't important right now; nothing was important but  the hands roaming every inch of her body, and the arms  holding her close, making her feel strangely safe.

Her breath was coming in short gasps, his name half-forming  on her lips, and she drew him back to eye-level for another  kiss that felt more soothing than responding to her  frenzied need. She splayed her hand across his bare chest,  pushing him onto his back, certain that the new position  would allow her to loom over him and grant her more freedom  of movement.

But something beyond the increasing tug of her arousal made  her look up into his face. His chest rose and fell beneath  her hand, his heart beating fast against her palm, and  although his expression was relaxed, there was a flicker of  concern shining in his eyes, and a question reflected in  their depth.

This was her Clark all right, careful not to push her  beyond what she was ready for. She was certain that if she  asked him to stop, he wouldn't resent her. He'd probably be  content to wrap his arms around her and hold her all night.  In the short time she'd known him, his patience and  understanding were things she'd quickly discovered and come  to appreciate, and he seemed to be just as wonderful now  that they'd stepped over... well... quite a line.

He hadn't changed. She was half-naked in his arms, on her  way to... oh god, to make love with him. But he was still  good old Clark. The realisation brought a lump to her  throat, and she locked her eyes with his, nodding slowly in  a silent answer to his request.

Oh yes, she was sure. She *wanted* to do this. To spend the  night in his arms, to feel his lips devour hers and  surrender to the sensations he evoked in her. And yes, she  wanted him to make love to her. She knew without a shadow  of a doubt that she had to seize this one moment. It was a  now or never kind of time, and she was certain that she'd  regret it forever if she let it go. If she let *him* go.

She'd care about tomorrow some other time.

Her decision firmly set, she undid the last buttons of her  shirt and shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it fall in  a pool behind her, and she reached for her lover.

*********

Lois was beautiful. Just simply the most perfect woman he  had ever seen. She was gorgeous. And he was kissing her.

More than kissing her; he was touching her, caressing her,  sliding his body against hers, feeling every inch of her  beautiful frame against him. And she was with him every  step of the way - she was encouraging him to kiss and  caress and undress her.

Lois wanted him... and he wanted her. Oh, so badly...

He'd had girlfriends before, but had never felt desire like  this; never before felt himself on fire with passion; never  felt such heat and molten need flowing through him.

This was wrong. He shouldn't be... oh, but when she touched  him like that, and put her lips just *there*, and... and...

Oh, Lois...

He moaned her name aloud over and over, until his words  were swallowed by her fervent kisses.

*********

Later, much later, when the fervour of their lovemaking  subsided, she lay in his arms, grateful for the soothing  movements of his hand against her back as her breathing  slowly returned to normal, the wild rhythm of her heart  against her breasts mingling with his. Silence settled over  the room, swallowing the moans of pleasure and whispered  words of passion they'd exchanged, and she allowed her body  to relax against his.

God... who'd have thought... If anyone had told her this  morning that that mild-mannered partner of hers had it in  him to stir such desire and soothe it so skillfully, she'd  never have believed it. But here she was, stretching  muscles that were sore from exertion and breathing in his  soft scent as they both cooled down.

He groped for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.  The gesture was so natural, and yet it felt like the  sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Not that any  of the men in her life had ever hung around long enough to  cuddle with her after they got what they wanted from her,  but Clark... Clark was so different.

Clark was just the kind to hold her hand like this, as if  threading his fingers with hers was just as much an act of  lovemaking as their earlier activities. His thumb  rhythmically brushed against her palm, reassuring her that  he was here, that he would always stay by her side if she  wanted him to. For some reason, she couldn't see him ever  betraying her, and whatever happened between them from this  point on, she knew he would never hurt her.

The knowledge filled her with tenderness for her lover -  her lover... the word sent shivers up her spine, and she  snuggled up closer, sighing contentedly when he dropped a  kiss against her hair.

"You cold?"

His soft voice warmed her insides, and she nodded  imperceptibly, amazed at how good it felt to lie in his  arms, feel his fingers graze the small of her back in  soothing motions. He shifted a little, grabbing the pale,  silken sheet from where it had been kicked at the foot of  the bed, and tucked it back over them, enveloping them in a  haven of warmth.

A few seconds later, rocked by Clark's now quiet heartbeat,  she fell into a blissful sleep.

*********

Clark lay awake as Lois slept in his arms, his brain  whirling.

He'd *made love* with Lois. It was his dearest wish, his  fondest dream, come true. Okay, it hadn't happened the way  he'd imagined, dreamed about, since meeting her: in his  fantasies, they'd dated, then fallen in love; he'd asked  her to marry him, and then, when they were engaged, maybe  they would have made love for the first time.

This, though, had happened without any forethought on  either of their parts; it had come completely out of the  blue. There had been little suspicion of anything even  remotely resembling something sexual between them until  just an hour ago - well, unless he counted the fact that  he'd been in love with Lois for months. And, of course, he  reminded himself, there had been the pheromone incident  just a couple of weeks ago, when Lois had been all over  him, pleading with him to take her.

Of course he hadn't; although he'd been tempted, he'd known  only too well that she wasn't really interested in Clark  Kent. She'd been under the influence of drugs, that was  all; to have taken advantage of her under those  circumstances would have been despicable.

This had been different. Without a drug or pheromone in  sight, Lois had turned his faux-kiss into a real one, and  made it very clear that she wanted him.

And it had been the most blissful experience of his life.

Naturally, though, his conscience was starting to give him  a hard time now. Yes, he knew that he shouldn't have  allowed himself to get carried away like that. But it  wasn't as if he'd taken advantage of Lois, was it? She'd  encouraged him every step of the way, and had made clear  that she didn't want to stop when he'd hesitated. And, in  the end, it had been Lois who'd taken the final step to  make them lovers in the fullest sense.

But he hadn't used protection; he'd put her at risk, then,  hadn't he? Though that, he mused, depended on whether it  was actually possible for him, an alien from another  planet, to impregnate an Earth woman. Surely the chances of  that happening would have to be slim to none?

The most pressing concern his conscience was throwing at  him, though, was that he'd done something which he'd always  vowed never to do: indulge in casual sex. But was it really  like that? Clark couldn't envisage that Lois would see it  that way; he knew his partner, and he was well aware of the  unpleasantness in her past history with men. There was no  way that Lois would calmly - or even in the heat of passion  - have a one-night stand. She might not have considered a  relationship with him before now - although how did he know  that in the aftermath of the pheromone she hadn't re- evaluated the way she thought about her partner? - but now  that they'd made love, and especially given the way she'd  responded so magically to him, he felt almost certain that  she'd want more.

Just what form 'more' would take, Clark wasn't sure; but he  was determined to make it clear to Lois, just as soon as he  could, that he wanted a relationship with her. He didn't  want her thinking that *he* just considered this a one- night stand.

And there was one other consequence. If they were going to  have a relationship, and given that they were already  intimate, there was a certain secret which he needed to  think seriously about letting Lois in on. It was time she  knew, and it would be so wonderful to have someone else,  someone special, he could confide in.

He glanced down at his sleeping partner, and love, once  more. She looked so beautiful in repose, her tousled hair  spread out over his arm and her eyes closed. Her lips  twitched once or twice as she breathed softly, and he could  feel her breath against his chest. It was going to be  wonderful to go to sleep and know that he would wake up  with her still in his arms.

But a nagging thought was driving into his mind. The  surveillance operation. The reason they were at the hotel  in the first place! Very gently and carefully, he lowered  Lois to the mattress and slid out of bed; reassembling the  - fortunately undamaged - equipment at Super-speed, he  pointed it at the office opposite and set it to record. At  least if there was any activity overnight, they'd be able  to see it in the morning.

Seconds later, he slid back under the covers next to Lois,  gently tugging her back into his arms, and settled himself  for sleep.

*********

There was something strangely soothing about waking up in a  man's arms; the reassuring hold of his strong arms pulling  her close, the warmth of his skin against her cheek, his  soft breathing as he peacefully slept, unaware of anything  in the world but the woman next to him, or as the case  currently was, *on* him.

Lois opened a wary eye, blinking against the light of the  morning sun drowning the room in a glow of ember.

She felt... good.

In fact, she felt more than good.

Her muscles were a bit sore from the strain she'd put on  them last night, and she fought the urge to stretch in a  cat-like move. Being sprawled on Clark's body was much too  comfortable for her to move just yet. A sultry smile broke  on her face as memories of the previous night flooded her  mind, and she shifted to place a soft kiss on her lover's  chest.

Her lover...

Oh god... what had she done?

<Slept with your rookie of a partner...>

She almost let out a low whine, catching herself in time  before she woke him. Bringing Clark back to awareness  wasn't a good idea right now. It wasn't a good idea at all.  It meant she would have to face him and the different way  he would look at her from now on. They all changed once you  gave yourself to them; there was something in human male  genes that made even the best of them become complete  morons once they'd obtained what they all pursued. Even  decent guys like Clark couldn't escape the rule.

The awe and admiration that secretly flattered her would be  replaced with contempt and a superiority complex because  he'd seen her naked. And she didn't mean 'naked' in just a  physical way, but last night, she'd bared herself to him in  more ways than she'd ever had. None of her previous lovers  had elicited such a response from her entire being, and  while it had seemed wonderful at the time, the cold morning  light made it much too frightening to contemplate.

Clark wasn't that much of a rookie anyway... and he would  certainly not keep the pretence now that he'd had sex with  her. And... he certainly didn't behave like one in... good  Lord... in bed.

The whine turned into a blissful sigh, and she wrapped her  arm a little tighter around his chest. She didn't recall  any of her previous experiences being so... so amazing. Not  that she'd known many men in such an intimate way, but  Clark... Clark surpassed anything she'd ever dreamt of.

<Get down to earth, girl, he's just a man... another one,  just like the rest of them...>

She ignored the warning, pushing away all cynical thoughts  that dared to intrude into her happiness. She wouldn't let  anything cloud this moment. Everything in her world felt  right; in fact, it was as if she was floating on a fluffy  mattress of warm air, held by nothing but her lover's arms  and...

... and...

She blinked and frowned, her feelings suddenly too real to  be ignored. Something wasn't quite right here. Being  invaded by the bliss that came with the afterglow of  lovemaking was one thing; realising that the floating  sensation wasn't *just* a sensation was...

Oh... god...

She let one of her legs slide off Clark's solid thighs,  afraid that the truth she dreaded might be confirmed. Her  toes groped for the mattress and found it... a foot below  her.

Now fully awake, she scrambled off the body floating - oh  god, he was really *floating* - beneath her and jumped to  her feet. She didn't turn around and ran to the bathroom,  locked the door, and slid against the wall until she was  sitting on the floor of cold tiles, hugging her knees to  her chest and releasing tears she couldn't hold back any  more.

*********

Clark woke with a start and immediately sensed that  something was wrong, as if he'd fallen from the bed with a  hard thump. His hands spread on his sides, groping for the  soft material of the mattress under him, and he blinked,  confused. Nope, something was not quite right, but he  couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Fuzzy memories cascaded into his mind and he shook them  off, dismissing them instantly.

And yet...

He'd been so certain that he was holding Lois in his arms,  that finally, after months of hoping against all hope that  she might feel the same way about him as he did about her,  she'd given her heart to him, but he was waking up alone  and disoriented.

Had it all been a dream, albeit a wonderful one? But no,  the rumpled sheets and discarded clothing scattered on the  floor around the bed testified that what he'd thought had  happened... had indeed happened.

He'd made love with Lois Lane.

Oh god, he'd made love with Lois Lane!

He sat up instantly, a broad smile spreading on his face as  the marvellous, blissful, tender, wild, and oh-so-romantic  moments he'd shared with Lois poured images of pure  happiness into his mind. It had been... so unexpected. So  wonderful. So perfect.

Perfect.

Except her absence from his side right now. Somehow, in his  numerous fantasies, making love to Lois would be followed  by a tender morning in each other's arms, interspersed with  soft kisses and murmurs of love, along with promises of a  future together.

Where had she gone? Her clothes were still on the floor,  where they'd been carelessly thrown earlier in the heat of  the moment, and there was no sound coming from anywhere in  the suite...

His senses quickly located her heartbeat, and he frowned at  its wild rhythm. His super-hearing switched on almost on  its own, but he could barely believe what he heard.  Scrambling off the bed in less than a second, he sped to  the bathroom and halted right in front of the door, dead in  his tracks.

She was... she was crying. He'd been lying in bed,  reviewing the most intense experience of his life and  grinning like a fool, while the woman he loved had run to  the safest haven she could find to cry herself out.

Oh god... What had he done?

He hadn't forced her! She'd responded to his kisses, to his  touch; in fact, she'd taken the lead on more than one  occasion, reaching for the next step when he expressed a  silent hesitation. Could it be that she regretted what had  happened between them? Had it just been a spur-of-the- moment thing, something that would hang over his head for  the rest of his life?

If they went back to being friends now, how could he  survive through the day? Loving Lois from a distance had  been barely tolerable until last night, but now that he'd  tasted a droplet of paradise in her arms, how was he  supposed to erase those few hours from his memory, to  forget the soft words she'd whispered in his ear in the  most intimate moments, to ignore the silky feel of her skin  against his and the rustling sound of the sheets sliding  around their entwined bodies?

The answer was simple enough. He couldn't.

He tapped on the bathroom door.

********

Oh god, he was here. Just a few inches away, behind the  door... a door she'd closed without realising how little an  obstacle it represented for him. He could probably knock it  down in a heartbeat, without her consent, and...

What was she thinking? Clark wouldn't force her into  anything; if she made it clear she didn't want to see him  ever again, he'd respect her wish and... unless...

She sighed, frustration welling up in her as contradictory  arguments collided in her mind. She had no idea who he was  any more, let alone what he would do right now. The  familiar sensation of deceit was back, taunting her with  warnings she'd tried to ignore as she'd come back to  consciousness in his arms.

She had wanted to believe that he was different from her  previous lovers, that what she'd given to him wouldn't  change the way he behaved around her, but it was worse.  He'd done worse. He'd betrayed her even before she became  intimate with him, hiding a major part of himself every  time he saw her, and that in either guise.

How was she supposed to act around him now? She hadn't a  clue what she was going to say to him, how she was even  going to face him now that she knew. Now that she'd made a  total fool of herself, and she hadn't even known who she  was doing it with.

Who *had* she been doing it with?

She'd thought that she was making love with Clark Kent. And  that had been scary enough on its own, once she'd woken up  and realised the implications of it all. But Clark... well,  she knew Clark, and she was pretty sure that he was about  as decent as it was possible for any man to be, even if  that wasn't saying a lot.

But was he Clark? Who... or what... was he? He'd been  *floating*, for heaven's sake!

How could he possibly have been floating? Was it a trick of  some sort? Was he into transcendental meditation or  something?

Her mouth twisted. She knew exactly who he was; there was  no point in trying to kid herself about it. Clark Superman  Kent had been playing her for a fool for six months, and  now he'd finally let his secret slip. He was no doubt  petrified now that she was going to splash the news on the  front page of the Daily Planet. Which was exactly what she  should do...

Except she wouldn't. Probably wouldn't, anyway. No, she  wouldn't, she decided immediately. There was no way she  could deceive Clark so cruelly. Concealing his secret from  her didn't deserve such a drastic punishment, one that  would ruin his life forever... and probably hers as well.

There was another knock, and she eyed the door with a sigh.  In the short time she'd known him, she'd discovered that  Clark could be almost as stubborn as she was. Surely he  wouldn't leave her until they talked; he would want to know  what she knew and what she intended to do with the  information.

<He'll want to know if you're okay, too.>

Yeah. Probably, she admitted grudgingly.

"Lois? Lois, are you okay?"

<See? Told you so!>

All right. He sounded concerned. It didn't make up for the  lies, though, and she pulled a face, ignoring him.

"Lois?"

<Go away. Just go away> she repeated silently to herself.  Then she heard a faint noise, and looked up to see the  handle moving.

For a split second, she feared that the door would give  under the pressure of his hand, but it vainly clicked and  remained safely shut. She held back a sigh of relief that  turned into a gasp when he called her name again, his voice  so soft and caring, reminding her of the tender moments  they'd shared a few hours earlier.

How could she ignore what they'd shared? How could she  ignore *him*? Come to think of it, how could she let him go  without an explanation? Not only was it unfair to him -  although she could live with that - but she was granting  him an escape here. A way out without a fight that he  thoroughly deserved.

She rose to her feet and reached for the key with a  trembling hand. Once she unlocked the door, there would be  no ambiguity about her attitude. She couldn't tell Clark  she didn't want to talk to him, and she'd have to go  through a conversation that would be painful, no doubt.

He'd gone silent and, for a second, she wondered if he'd  left. But she could still feel his presence; she could  picture him on the other side of the door, holding his  breath as he waited for her to make a move. She knew that  as soon as she opened, his gentle gaze would rest on her,  and she wasn't sure she could resist the pull of her  desire. She might be angry, but it didn't erase the  memories of the previous night and how much she wanted to  relive those blissful moments with him, no matter how much  he deserved the cold shoulder right now.

Her stance stiffened as she braced herself for the  encounter, then she finally unlocked the door. The clicking  sound of the key couldn't be missed, and she expected to  see Clark's face any secon...

Oh god... he was coming in! And she was stark naked! She  couldn't face him naked! Not now! There was a robe hanging  on the back of the door. In one swift movement, she'd  grabbed it and pulled it around her, and was standing  fastening the belt when Clark - or Superman, or whoever he  was - came in.

"Lois, are you - " He broke off abruptly as he came face to  face with her; she wasn't sure what he'd expected to see,  but it clearly wasn't his partner on her feet and giving  him a belligerent stare. Okay, she was pretty sure that her  face was still blotchy from the tears, but she didn't care.  And if he *dared* imply that she'd been crying...

"Yes?" she said bluntly.

"I... I was worried about you," he began awkwardly. "I  thought I heard..."

"Yes?" Her tone would have frozen ordinary mortals; it  probably had no effect at all on Superman, she thought  cynically.

"I... uh..." He stood, half-in and half-out of the  bathroom, looking distinctly awkward. And he was also, she  noticed at last, distinctly naked.

Naked. And very attractive. No, not just attractive;  wildly, incredibly gorgeous. Even better than she'd  realised - but then, they'd been so busy ripping each  other's clothes off that she hadn't had a lot of time to  admire his physique.

He was a god. A god in a cape, Cat had called him not long  after his arrival, and she'd been right. But, stupidly,  Lois had never seen that he was also a god in a business  suit and horn-rims.

A *deceitful* god in a suit and horn-rims!

And he might be naked, but he'd taken the time to put on  his glasses, she noted scathingly.

Not wanting to let him see how the sight of him without  clothes affected her, she growled at him, "At least have  the decency to get some clothes on!"

He blushed. And her jaw dropped. He actually *blushed*.  Then he grabbed a towel from the rail and wrapped it around  his waist. Then he looked up, meeting her gaze with a firm,  yet concerned look.

"Lois, *are* you okay?" he asked, in a tone of voice she  knew well. This was Clark at his most solicitous, exactly  the way he'd spoken to her when she'd told him about Claude  and her fear that no-one respected her, and about her  father's attitude when she'd been growing up. *Darn* him  for being her kind partner right at that precise second,  when she wanted to be able to hate him for being deceitful!

Unwanted tears welled up in her eyes again, and she  blinked, looking away and willing him to leave; to go  anywhere, just as long as he left her alone. Why couldn't  he get a call for help or something?

"Lois, is it that... I mean, do you regret what we did?" he  asked, running one hand through his rumpled hair. He  sounded as if he actually *cared*... was that possible?

"What if I do?" she threw at him, making her voice sound  casual.

He grimaced. "I'd be sorry," he said heavily. "Not just  because I don't, but... because I didn't want it to end  like this, Lois. I... I'd give anything not to hurt you!"

"Well, it's a bit late for that!" she gulped out, shocking  herself. She'd never intended to let him see how much he'd  hurt her...

"Lois... ah, no, Lois..." Suddenly he was in front of her,  his arms were around her and she was sobbing into his hard,  naked chest. "Lois, don't cry! It'll be okay, I promise...  we can pretend it never happened..."

"Oh yeah?" she muttered on another sob. "You think I can  forget you *floated*, Superman?"

*********

Sup... Superman?

Had she just called him Superman?

And... and she'd said he'd floated. No, she'd said she'd  *seen* him float.

His mouth opened but no word came out, and right now he was  thankful for his speechlessness. His first instinct had  been to deny it, to tell her she'd imagined this, hadn't  been fully awake or whatever. Talk about making things  worse! And didn't she deserve to know?

Last night, lost in the feel of her arms, drowned in the  pull of her eyes as she breathlessly sobbed his name, she'd  given herself to him completely, with no reservation, and a  faith that he'd never thought possible. Last night, she'd  lain bare in front of him, showing him how much she trusted  him, how much she wanted to share everything with him.

She hadn't spoken the three magic words, but what they'd  done meant so much more than 'I love you's. That it had  been an impulsive thing, only driven by pure instinct and  raw need, was irrelevant. The consequences were the same,  weren't they?

They'd made love. She'd let him make love to her, and their  souls had become one in those too short moments of bliss.  What was his secret compared with what they'd shared? What  gave him the right to put it on top of everything else,  including his love for this woman, and the pain now  reflecting in her gaze as she held a challenging stance and  tried her best not to show how much he'd hurt her?

For he'd hurt her. It was so obvious, and even if he hadn't  heard her muffled crying from the other side of the  bathroom door, her blotchy eyes and the red stains on her  cheeks would have been as much of a clue to the depths of  her pain.

The dream had turned into a nightmare.

He took a step towards her, wincing as she flinched away.  She couldn't bear to be near him any more. Was it... could  it be because of what he was? Could she be disgusted to  have made love with him because he wasn't human?

<She didn't seemed to mind when she kissed Superman so  thoroughly last week.>

But it was different! Kissing was one thing but this,  *this* was big! And he was completely irresponsible, too.  Why hadn't he thought of the consequences of his actions?  Why hadn't it occurred to him that his being an alien could  be dangerous to Lois in the course of intimacy? He looked  so much like a man that it was easy to forget he wasn't  one, but in truth, he had no idea how his body worked or  what it could do to her.

And what if he'd completely lost control?

Correction: he *had* completely lost control. After all, it  was what lovemaking was all about, and their moments  together had been so passionate that he'd let go of his  entire self. His extraordinary strength was all about  control, and he'd let it slip away without a second  thought, just for the sake of a few seconds of paradise.

No wonder Lois suddenly seemed scared. No wonder she didn't  want him to touch her any more.

"I'm sorry," he said lamely, knowing he couldn't possibly  make it up to her. "I didn't think."

"You bet you didn't! You were too busy doing... whatever."

"It just never occurred to me before."

"Oh yeah? It never *occurred* to you? So you thought you  could just... do this to me and get away with it? I thought  you cared, Clark! I thought you honestly *cared* about me!"  Her voice broke, and the sight of tears spilling on her  cheeks tore at his heart.

He wished he could take her in his arms and take the pain  away, but she probably wanted him as far from her as  possible right now. He couldn't even blame her.

"I do care. More than I could say. Lois, I know you  probably don't want to hear that now, but I - "

"Then *don't* say it! You're right, I don't want to hear  it."

"I'm sorry."

"And stop apologising as if it was going to save your soul.  I couldn't care less about how sorry you are. Not only were  you coward enough not to tell me anything before we got...  *there*, but you have the guts to say it never even  occurred to you before?"

Her words flayed him, and he had to swallow before he could  reply.

"Lois, look at me! I'm... all right, I'm not *human*, but I  look pretty much like one. I mean even you couldn't see the  difference and well, it's so difficult to think of myself  as an... alien. Especially when I'm with you."

Lois frowned and put her hands on her hips in a typically  challenging manner. "So you're basically saying it's my  fault?"

"No! No, it's *my* fault, of course! It's just... Lois,  even when I'm with you as Superman, I don't feel different.  I don't feel *out* of this world. You make me feel like I  belong." His voice softened as the intensity of his love  for her resurfaced. "With you."

Lois didn't seem impressed, though. In fact, the more he  spoke, the angrier she looked. "Stop the romantic crap,  Clark. You didn't think I'd want to *know*?"

"I realise it was crazy to make love before you knew. I was  the one who had to make sure it was safe first."

"Safe?"

"I never wanted to put you in any kind of danger, I swear!"

She blinked, now looking extremely confused, as if taken  aback by his words. "What do you mean, danger? What  danger?"

"Well... me being an alien and everything, who knows what  it could do and - "

She rolled her eyes. "Clark, what the heck are you talking  about?"

Weren't they talking about the same thing? Wasn't she  scared of his not being a human being? The realisation  lifted a huge weight off his shoulders, and he fought the  urge to breathe in relief. Now wasn't the time to revel in  a small reassurance.

What mattered was what Lois was so worked up about. And if  it wasn't his being alien, it could only be...

"Geez, Clark, why would I care about you being from another  planet?" She sighed, ran a hand through her hair and  started pacing up and down the bathroom.

"Well... because..."

"I just *can't* believe you wouldn't *tell* me you were  Superman, that's all! Although 'that's all' isn't exactly  the right term." She rolled her eyes. "All? The most  amazing man I have ever seen in my life - the most perfect,  incredible, heroic man - and he's you all along? I've been  working beside you for *months*, Clark, and you never said  a word! And tonight... tonight..." Suddenly she broke off,  spinning away from him again, and he was positive that she  was on the verge of tears once more.

"Lois." His own pain forgotten as he focused on hers, he  hurried to her, daring to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Talk  to me. What is it? What's made you cry? Is it... I thought  it was because you hated the thought of... of making love  with an alien...?"

An alien. For the first time since he'd encountered Jason  Trask, Clark had felt as if he was repugnant, an outcast -  simply because of his birthplace. And it hurt so much more  when it was someone he cared about - someone he *loved* -  making him feel that way.

But he was confused. Did she or didn't she have a problem  with who he was?

"I'm *not* crying!" she muttered, completely untruthfully,  from what Clark could tell.

"Lois..." he attempted, but she shook her head.

"Don't, Clark. Just... don't."

********

She couldn't deal with his concern for her right now - not  when she was so confused herself. Clark was *Superman*?  She'd just made love to her hero, Superman, and she hadn't  known it!

In her deepest fantasies, she had often dreamed of making  love with Superman. But he'd always been the strong,  powerful and supremely confident Superhero on those  occasions: kind, gentle and loving, but at the same time  very much the instigator and in control of what was  happening. She was the supplicant and he the gracious hero  on a pedestal who was doing her the favour of making her  worthy of his attention.

Clark hadn't been like that - not one bit. He'd been  gentle, tentative, careful to make sure that she was  willing every step of the way. And, now that she was making  herself think rationally about it, she'd known that she  could stop him at any time she wanted. She'd been  completely in control, even when he'd been taking the  initiative.

That was exactly the way she would have expected Clark to  make love. But not Superman.

And yet Clark was Superman.

An alien -

Wait a minute! Alien? She'd never used that word to  describe Superman!

So who had...?

Clark. His words suddenly filtered through to her  consciousness. "... thought... you hated the thought of...  of making love with an alien..."

Did he really think that? Had she really given him that  impression...?

Her anger and hurt forgotten, she spun around and stared at  him. He gazed back at her, biting his lip and an expression  of dismay and sadness in his eyes. He looked as if he was  afraid that she was going to reject him. And didn't he have  a point? her conscience screamed at her. Hadn't she just  told him, more or less, to leave her alone?

"Clark..." she began awkwardly, unsure of how to get  through to him, how to make him see that she'd never even  for a second thought what he'd imagined. That she might be  angry and hurt about his deception, but she wasn't  prejudiced, or anything like it. That she... oh god, that  she cared about him.

"Yeah?" His voice barely rose above a flat whisper; he  sounded as if he was dreading whatever she was about to say  to him.

"I *don't* think of you as an alien!" she blurted out. "I  never have! How could you think that of me?"

"But that's what I am," he said quietly, his gaze directed  somewhere at his feet. "You know that now. And you're upset  that I didn't tell you before we..."

"I'm upset that you didn't tell me something that important  about you! About *us*!" she added quickly. "Because it is  about us, Clark! You know that Superman's always been  special to me. You know how I... how I feel about him. And  I would've liked to know who I was with. That's all I  meant!"

His head shot up, and he looked straight at her out of eyes  which now flashed with brown fire. "You were with *me*,  Lois. *Me*. Clark Kent."

Okay. So he was sensitive about his identity, Lois  realised. He wanted to be thought of as Clark. But why,  when Superman was so... just so amazing in every way?

But Clark was the man, she realised; the normal guy who  fitted in, who everyone clapped on the back and joked with  and invited to the ball game. No-one did that with  Superman. Maybe that was part of it?

Or maybe... oh god, maybe it was that he hated the idea  that people - no, that *she* was only interested in him for  his powers?

And had that even been far from the truth?

Sighing inwardly, Lois admitted that she had a long way to  go to convince Clark that his being Superman wasn't  important to her. He probably believed that she would never  have looked twice at him if it hadn't been for the way  things had happened between them that evening. But the fact  remained that they *had* made love. And it had been special  - so very special. He had to believe that she'd made love  with him then because she wanted to. She'd made love with  *Clark*!

But as well as that, there was a major flaw in his logic,  and perhaps attacking that would be the best way of getting  through to him. "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"You say I was with Clark tonight. But Clark doesn't float,  does he?"

"It's not like that. I don't morph into Superman when I put  on the suit," he explained, completely missing her point.  "I've had to deal with the powers all my life, or almost. I  mean, I started getting stronger than human kids when I was  three, and then the gap kept growing."

"So the powers belong to Clark," she tried again.

He frowned and stopped his technical explanation. Had he  finally noticed that she was going somewhere with her  question?

"Clark, I want to know one thing. Why didn't you tell me  before? I thought we were friends, that you trusted me..."

A light of recognition sparked in his eyes before he  replied. "So this is what you're upset about?"

"Of course it is! You have to admit it's a pretty big thing  to discover that your lover is a part-time superhero! Let  alone one you've been chasing around."

She'd been making a fool of herself, acting like the awe- struck groupie whenever Superman showed any kind of  interest in her, and insulting Clark Kent all along. She  had been so engrossed in her attraction towards the  unattainable superhero that she'd completely missed the  resemblance between the object of her attentions and her  shy partner.

Why did he sound so surprised that it was what bothered  her? He seemed quite obsessed with his being an alien, and  it seemed that he'd expected her to reject him for this  reason. How could he not see that she would have given her  soul to be with Superman?

"I know you love him," he said quietly.

"Him?" What was he talking about?

"Superman. You made it clear that you didn't think much of  me as Clark, and I guess that this is the main reason why  telling you was out of the question. I mean until now. I  would have told you this morning, Lois. Making love... it  means that we're in a pretty serious relationship. I mean,  for me," he added, the shadow of another insecurity passing  over his face.

"I wouldn't have slept with you if it wasn't serious," she  said, hurrying to reassure him.

And she meant it. The admission had been directed at  herself as much as at him; she couldn't deny that their  first kiss last night had freed feelings she didn't suspect  she had. Yet they'd been hidden in her heart ever since  she'd known Clark.

The memory of the previous week, when she'd thrown herself  at Clark and practically begged him to love her, came back  to haunt her. The pheromone had certainly been an  indication of where her heart belonged, and she should have  analysed the situation instead of burying it in the back of  her mind as a taboo subject she never intended to dig up  again.

"But I never expected you to sleep with me!" he exclaimed,  and she could hear the pent-up frustration in his voice.

"I know. It was pretty out of the blue for me, too."

"Does it make it wrong?" He sounded so insecure, as if he  was certain that she'd deny her feelings now that she knew  about his secret. The truth was that she'd been tempted to  turn her back on him forever; not because of who he was,  but because of a secret he hadn't shared with her before  they'd become intimate.

His fear of being rejected and his obvious desire to be  loved for himself was putting a new spin on things, though.  Until then, she hadn't realised how hard it was for him to  live with his two identities; all she'd thought about was  the pain of feeling betrayed by the man she loved.

For she loved Clark. There was no way around the strong  feelings revealed by the first few kisses they'd shared  last night. She hadn't wanted him for a purely physical  moment that would be forgotten the next morning; it just  wasn't her style to sleep with a man if there was nothing  more than a simple attraction to begin with. It wasn't  enough. She needed passion, an overwhelming need to be with  him, a certainty that it was a beginning and not just a few  hours of futureless bliss.

She needed Clark.

"It could never be wrong. It was right, and nothing can  change that."

He took a step towards her and put his hands on her waist,  although she could see in his eyes that the motion wasn't  born of deep self-confidence. "And is it still right?"

She sighed. She couldn't lie to him; she couldn't lie to  herself and claim that everything was all right when part  of her was still hurt by his lies. "I guess... it depends,  Clark. I can understand why you didn't tell me. I haven't  been very nice to you, and I don't suppose that throwing  myself at you, the other you, helped my case. But last  night, I was so certain that I was with Clark, and -"

"And you *were* with Clark. You're still with Clark."

"So when Superman kissed me last week..."

"It was me."

"But you... I mean, *Clark* wasn't attracted to me at all!  Unless..." He hadn't been affected by the pheromone. His  powers or whatever it was about his Kryptonian side had  made him invulnerable to Miranda's perfume.

"I have no idea how I'd have controlled myself if the  pheromone spray had removed my inhibitions for you, Lois. I  got pretty close to losing all grip on reason without it,  and let's just say it's a good thing its effect on you wore  off before we did something... irresponsible. As for the  kiss..." He trailed off and racked a hand through his hair;  she could see that he was embarrassed. "I know it was very  stupid of me to take advantage of the situation. I just  couldn't help it. I know it won't make up for what I did,  but -"

"You don't need to apologise for kissing me. After all, I'd  been chasing after you for two whole days. It's a wonder  you didn't take advantage of the situation before."

He chuckled and finally pulled her against him. It felt so  good to be held in his strong arms.

"Lois, I wish I'd told you before things got out of hand  last night. I would have told you this morning if you  hadn't found out before I even woke."

She believed him. Maybe it was the softness of his voice,  the sincerity in his deep brown eyes, the support of his  arms around her and keeping her close. Or maybe it was just  the certainty of her feelings for him, but she really  believed him.

Tilting her chin up in a deliberate invitation for him to  kiss her, Lois said softly, "You said you knew that I love  Superman."

He'd been about to respond to her invitation, but he  halted, his expression showing her how much it had hurt.  "Yeah. It's been pretty obvious."

"Clark, it wasn't the powers that I loved. The way you use  them to help people makes Superman more noticeable than  Clark, but it's never been about your abilities. It was the  man... it was *you*," she said, smiling up at him. "I love  *you*, Clark."

Raising one hand to caress her cheek in a touch which  simply took her breath away, Clark gave her a look which,  finally, melted away the last of the ice which had  surrounded her heart since Claude's betrayal. "I love you,  Lois. I've loved you since the first moment I saw you," he  told her huskily.

And then she wasn't able to say any more, because his mouth  was on hers, kissing her gently, then urgently and  passionately and deeply and fervently. Lois wrapped her  arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to her, but  then he was lifting her and carrying her out of the  bathroom and back into the bedroom, without once breaking  the kiss.

Laying her down on their bed, he straightened and gave her  a longing look. "God, I want to be next to you again!"

"What's stopping you?" she asked, laughing as she reached  up towards him.

"But what about the investigation?" he protested half- heartedly.

"What investigation?" Then her hand caught the edge of his  towel; as it unravelled and fell to the floor, Clark came  down on the bed to kiss her again. And at that point,  nothing else mattered; their surroundings faded away as  they lost themselves in each other and the wonder of their  kisses.

Together. In rapture.

~ The End ~

Wendy@lcfanfic.com Kaethel@wanadoo.fr July 2002

Table of Contents

Rapture In Metropolis

By Wendy Richards <Wendy@lcfanfic.com> & Kaethel <Kaethel@wanadoo.fr>