Secret Affairs

By Bethy <bethyem@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: August 2001

* * *

He watched her drop her shopping bags on the floor as she slid into the chair across the table from him. They were seated in a secluded corner of the hotel restaurant, a perfectly romantic spot.

He couldn't help looking around nervously, though.

"What's wrong, Clark?" she asked.

"I'm just not sure we should be doing this, that's all." He had that little feeling in his gut that he got whenever he did something he shouldn't.

"Come on, you're such a worrywart!" she laughed. "Anyway, you'll forget all about that when you see what I bought at Veronica's Secret," she purred.

He smiled a half smile and thought once again just how beautiful she was. Too bad...Uh-uh. Wrong track. Thoughts not going there. Not now.

"So, do I get to see it?" he asked suggestively, trying to shake that feeling of doom and enjoy himself.

"Uh-uh-uh, you naughty boy!" She laughed.

Oh, how he loved that sound. If only he could hear it more often. He would do just about anything to make her laugh.

"You'll just have to wait until we go upstairs. In private!"

In response, he pulled the room key out of his suit coat pocket and dangled it over the table. He could fulfill that request.

"Well, our room is all ready for us, sheets turned down and even mints on the pillows."

There was that laugh again. "Do you want to head up there now? Or order a drink first?" Now. Now, please say now!

"Oh, what's the hurry? Let's have a drink."

Darn.

He flagged down a waiter, they ordered their drinks and he settled back in his chair to gaze upon her beauty.

Suddenly he jumped. Her foot was on his leg! He took a quick peek through the table to see that she had removed her stockinged foot from its pump and was now seductively drawing it up and down his calf.

Did she know what she was doing to him?

"Oh..." he groaned. "Maybe we should just skip those drinks."

"Why?" she asked innocently. "Something wrong?" Her eyebrows rose as she gave him a pert grin.

"You know very well what's wrong!" he growled. He lunged forward as if to tickle her and she jumped back with a playful shriek.

"Just wait 'til I get you upstairs!"

"Oh, yeah?" she answered challengingly, resuming her foot ministrations on his leg. "And what exactly do you plan on doing to me there?"

Before he could launch into a...detailed...description of his plans, his cell phone rang.

"Oh, no!" he groaned inwardly. "Not now!"

He pointed a finger at her sternly as he drew the phone from his pocket. "I'll deal with you in a minute." She laughed and he flipped the phone open, answering in a professional tone, "Clark Kent."

His expression softened when he heard a soft, "Daddy?"

"Yeah, CJ? What is it?" He paused for a second and then suppressed a sigh. "You don't feel well?...You threw up? I'm sorry...Did the babysitter give you any 7-UP?...She didn't? Well, tell her Daddy said you could have some...What's that? Yes, she's right here...You want to talk to her? Okay, here's Mommy."

He held the phone out over the table to Lois and sighed. "So much for our night out."

THE END

Author's note: Believe it or not, this vignette was inspired by a drama at church. :)

Thanks to everyone who commented on Zoom's boards and the listserv. Comments welcome at bethyem@yahoo.com. :D

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