This Kiss

By Sarah Luddy <meerkat_comments AT aslandia DOT net>

Rated: PG

Submitted: April 2002

Author's Note: This was written as a birthday present for Wendy and Tracey. Many more, you two!

******

The discussion of the case completed, Clark politely escorted Mayson to the door. He was still feeling a little uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was Mayson's reaction to catching him without a shirt when she'd first arrived. She hadn't even wanted him to put a shirt on, but he'd been too shy not to.

Mayson turned suddenly and stopped.

"Would you like to have lunch?"

Wasn't their discussion finished? "To talk about the case?"

"No."

"Oh." The realization that Mayson was asking him out hit Clark like a ton of bricks. She hated Superman...she was asking him out...she liked him...what would Lois say?

Why did it matter what Lois would say? It wasn't like she liked him in that way. She'd probably be the first to tell him to go ahead and date Mayson.

Of course, Lois was the one he was in love with.

And Lois hated Mayson.

"Uh..."

"Try and cap that with wild enthusiasm," Mayson said with a smile. He could see the hurt in her eyes, though, and he hated to be the cause of it. Mayson was nice, and she was very attractive. But was it fair to go out with Mayson when he was in love with Lois?

"No, it's not that. You just caught me a little off guard. But..."

One date couldn't hurt, could it? It was only lunch, not dinner or anything special.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Mayson beamed. The smile lit up her face and turned her from merely attractive to breathtakingly gorgeous. Maybe this wouldn't exactly be a hardship.

"I'll call you," she promised.

He nodded and turned again towards the door. But she caught him around the neck and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him sweetly on the lips.

*************

Lois quickly jogged up the last few steps to Clark's apartment and grabbed the door handle. As usual, unlocked. She opened the door and walked in.

Mayson was wrapped around Clark, kissing him!

"Clark!" she gasped, stepping backwards towards the door.

Clark broke away from Mayson with a startled exclamation. His wide eyes met Lois's, looking as shocked as she felt.

Lois spun on her heel and headed back out the door. Clark and Mayson? She couldn't believe it! What could Clark possibly see in that...that...that blonde! She didn't deserve Clark, not in the least.

"Lois, wait!" she heard Clark call behind her. She didn't listen, starting to run as she reached the outside steps. She leapt down them two-at-a-time, when suddenly, a step wasn't where Lois thought it should be. She lost her balance and tumbled down the rest of the stairs.

"Lois!" she heard Clark yell from behind her. The world seemed to swirl around her as she rolled down the last few stairs to land hard on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Clark said, appearing next to her faster than she would have thought possible. He helped her sit up.

"I'm fine," Lois said, biting her lip to hold back tears. "Go back to Mayson, I'm fine."

She started to stand up, but her right ankle betrayed her, giving way the moment she put pressure on it.

"Lois, you're hurt!" Clark exclaimed, gently pressing the ankle.

Lois winced and pulled it away. "I'm fine."

Lois heard the purposeful steps of Mayson walking down the stairs. "Clark, I'm leaving," Mayson said.

Clark jumped to his feet. "Please, Mayson, stay."

"Yes, by all means, stay," Lois said. "I was just leaving." To illustrate her words, she gingerly stood up, keeping her weight on her left leg while giving the illusion that she was standing normally.

Clark wasn't fooled, and he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady.

Mayson grimaced at the two of them. "Uh, no, I think I'd better be going."

Lois pulled away from Clark's arm, only to feel bereft as he dropped it and hurried to Mayson's side. "Mayson, I really didn't mean to-" he started.

"No, no, it's okay. Are we still on for lunch?" the pushy woman asked.

Clark glanced nervously at Lois. "Ah, sure."

"Good. I'll call you." She headed for her car. Lois had to laugh as she noticed the model of car: Dodge Viper. Of course.

Clark turned back to Lois. "Lois, you'd better come inside and let me look at that ankle. You need some ice, at the very least."

"No, it's fine, really," Lois said, throwing off his offered hand. "I'd better head home, myself."

"Lois, don't be ridiculous. You can't walk on that ankle."

Lois drew herself up to her full height and hoped her eyes were properly blazing. "Ridiculous?"

At least Clark knew enough to back up a few steps when Mad Dog Lane appeared. "That wasn't what I meant. I just meant..."

"No, thank you," she said. She grabbed her purse from where it had fallen and took a careful step forward, putting as little weight on the foot as she could without giving herself away with an obvious limp. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing to what it would cost her to show her vulnerability to Clark.

************

Clark sighed as he saw Lois disappear around the corner, then spun back into his apartment to spin into the suit. She might think she was perfectly capable of limping home, but it was late, and dark, and she was injured. It wouldn't hurt just to keep an eye on her.

But just as he was about to launch himself after Lois, he heard a distant scream and the roar of a fire. With one last glance in Lois's direction, he soared into the air and headed in the direction of the fire that was threatening homes near Hobb's Bay.

************

Lois kept up her careful limp-free walk until she'd turned a corner and Clark could no longer see her. Then she dropped to the ground and curled up, clutching her knees to her chest, and sobbed.

So he'd kissed her. So what? It wasn't like *she* was interested in Clark. And even if she was, she didn't have any claim on him. He was perfectly justified in sharing one little kiss.

That Mayson was far too pushy. Clark wouldn't be attracted to that type of woman. Even if she was blonde.

So why was he kissing her? Not only that...Lois suddenly remembered what they were wearing as they kissed. Mayson was wearing a tank top, and had obviously ditched her suit jacket. Clark was wearing equally little. Must have been one hot kiss if they'd felt a need to remove clothing.

She wiped a hand across her face. She shouldn't care! What Clark did in his free time with blonde Assistant DAs was none of her business, she knew that.

But she couldn't help thinking back to the day she'd said "I can't" to Lex at the wedding ceremony because she'd realized what she felt for Clark. What did she feel for Clark? Sometimes, he was the most wonderful man she knew. Other times she felt she didn't even know him.

Enough of this. She was wallowing. She hated wallowers. It was time to see if this ankle would carry her as far as her apartment.

She dragged herself to her feet, careful to keep the majority of her weight on her left foot. By taking slight limping hops, she could handle the walk.

Nonetheless, it seemed hours before she finally reached the door of her apartment. Never before had she been so grateful for the elevator that made the trip to the fifth floor that much less painful.

************

The next day, Clark tentatively knocked on Lois's door, hiding his peace offering of yellow roses behind his back. He hoped Lois wasn't *too* mad at him, but if she was, he was prepared to grovel appropriately.

A short thumping sound was followed by a series of soft thuds. The top lock turned and opened, then the next, down to the last. The door opened to show a slightly frazzled- looking Lois leaning on a crutch.

"Oh, Lois!" Clark exclaimed, stepping into the apartment.

"Not a word, Farmboy," she said, holding up a hand. "Not a word."

He mimed zipping his lips and followed her as she walked over to the couch where she'd obviously been resting. She sat with a sigh and put her foot up on a pillow on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry about your ankle," Clark said softly.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing!" he said, startled. "You're on a crutch!"

"Only a flesh wound," Lois said.

Clark stared at her in shock, then burst into laughter. She joined him, and they both enjoyed a moment of amusement together.

"So how is it really?" Clark asked, once he'd regained his composure.

Lois shrugged and bent over, carefully removed the ace bandage. She winced slightly as she lifted her foot to take off the bandage.

The foot was swollen and bruised-looking. Clark frowned at the sight. "Did you go to the hospital?"

"It's just a sprain, Clark," Lois said, frustration seeping into her voice. "It's fine. I happened to have a crutch from when Lucy broke her leg, so I'm staying off it."

But Clark couldn't help feeling guilty. Not that there had been anything wrong, per se, in his kissing Mayson. But he still couldn't help but feel that he was responsible for Lois's fall. If she hadn't seen him with Mayson, she probably wouldn't have been so stubborn as to insist on walking home, which had probably made the ankle worse.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

The intensity of his feelings must have shown through in his expression because Lois dropped her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. He hadn't meant to scare her. Then she looked back up, an impish look coming over her face. "Why don't you kiss it and make it better, then?" she asked with a wicked grin.

It was something between a joke and a challenge, one she probably thought he'd never accept. But...what was wrong with a little kiss?

Clark gently bent over her ankle, tenderly lifting it without causing her more pain. Then, almost in slow- motion, he lowered his lips to the ankle bone and lightly kissed her.

It was meant to be just a get-well kiss, but the moment he felt her skin burning beneath his lips, it was something more. They'd kissed several times before under pretense. Once in the hotel when a maid had been about to burst in on them, another time in Trask's plane. Still, even though those kisses had been intended as cover, Clark had felt a strange connection to Lois that was impossible to deny.

But who would have thought kissing her ankle would have had the same effect?

Clark lifted his head and sat up slowly, facing Lois. Neither spoke, but their eyes were locked in a gaze that spoke volumes.

"Lois-" Clark started.

"Clark-" Lois said at the same time.

They both laughed nervously.

"You know, for once I don't have anything to say," Lois said.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, not that I'm always talking or anything, but, you know, I don't end up speechless all that often. But this is...this is something else. Clark, I don't know what's happening. Maybe you'd better go."

She couldn't mean it. He stood up.

"No, wait, I don't mean go, not really. I'm just, oh, confused. I don't know what is happening."

Clark raised his hand and touched her lips gently, quieting her.

"Lois, you're scared," he said. "I'm scared too. But I think we have something special. And we can't let it fade away because we're both too scared to do anything about it. That would be-"

"Tragic," Lois finished for him.

Clark nodded.

She stared at him for a long moment, an odd look in her eyes.

He frowned. "What?"

"Kiss me, you moron! With my ankle on this stupid pillow I can't exactly stand up to kiss you."

"Oh," he said, feeling a smile creep onto his face. He sat on the cushion next to Lois and slowly bent his head to hers.

It wasn't their first kiss, but it was their first real one. And if they'd ever thought those previous kisses were special, this was a kiss to change their minds. From the moment their lips touched, the room disappeared, and nothing in the world existed except each other.

As they timidly explored each other's mouths, their souls reached out to touch the other, looking for assurance that they weren't alone in the world. And they weren't. For from this kiss on, they could never be apart.

Lois sighed into Clark's mouth, and his heart clenched at the sudden feeling of protectiveness and love he felt towards this woman. He pulled away just enough to tenderly kiss her forehead and cheekbones. He felt her smile beneath his mouth.

"Clark," she whispered, "we do need to talk."

He sighed and pulled away.

"Clark, I don't understand you," Lois said, looking away. "Last night I caught you kissing Mayson-and she was half- undressed! Today you're kissing me. You can't be involved with Mayson and expect me to be here for you whenever you want."

"I wasn't kissing Mayson," he insisted. "She was kissing me."

"You kissing her, she kissing you, same difference."

"It's not the same thing at all! She was kissing me, I wasn't kissing her back."

Lois frowned. "That's not what it looked like to me," she said. But he could tell she was mulling the idea over.

"Lois, I promise you I didn't kiss her back. I just didn't have time to react. You're the one I love."

The moment the words had left his mouth, he was sure it was a mistake. It was one thing to start a relationship, but to introduce the L-word so soon was asking for trouble. If Lois couldn't return his feelings, would she be unwilling to at least try a relationship?

"Love?"

"I didn't mean to say that," he said quickly. "I mean, I do love you. But I didn't want to put any pressure on you so early. All I meant was that you're the one I care about, you're the one I want to be with, not Mayson."

She smiled. "Now you're babbling."

He hoped he hadn't blushed. "I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing."

"Clark...a few days ago, I think hearing those words would have made me start running without looking back."

"And now?" he said, hope making his heart pound. Did she mean something had changed?

"And now...maybe I'm ready to take the next step, too."

He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to. "What made you change your mind?"

She smiled slightly. "Well, seeing you with Mayson, for one thing. I guess for the first time I realized I could lose you. I mean, you've been there for me whenever I needed you this past year. I guess I got into the mode of thinking that you'd always be there whenever I was ready, and I could put off contemplating my feelings for you as long as I wanted."

He reached out a hand to stroke her hair. She turned her head to rub her cheek into his hand. She then kissed his hand softly and took it in her own.

"Was there a second thing?" he asked, remembering the way she'd begun.

"Oh, yeah," she said, blushing. He'd never seen Lois Lane blush. It was intriguing. And beautiful, just as everything about her was.

"Yes?" he asked.

"That kiss," she said shyly.

"Oh." It was his turn to blush, he assumed, from the way he felt his face heat.

"So...maybe we could try dating?" she asked, looking up at him tremulously.

"I'd like that," he said, his voice husky with emotion. He couldn't resist the emotion shining in her eyes, and he bent close to kiss her again.

Clark had to wonder if each kiss with Lois Lane was going to be more spectacular than the last. Because each time they'd kissed, they'd put every previous kiss to shame. In fact...in fact, he wasn't quite sure what he'd been thinking a moment ago. Such a waste to think when one was kissing and fireworks were going off in one's head.

"Oh, Lois," he mumbled against her lips. He couldn't get enough of the feel of Lois, her body nestled closely against his, her perfume tickling his nose, her lips touching him in such an intimate way. He opened his eyes to find her watching him. Her eyes brightened when they met his, and he smiled slowly. She smiled back. It was a look that hinted of potential love, with just a bit of lust lurking at the corners.

"Oh," Clark said suddenly, remembering his 'peace- offering.' "I brought you flowers."

Lois squealed with delight as she saw the yellow roses. "Oh, Clark, they're beautiful," she said, thrusting her nose into the soft petals to smell them. "Perfect." She looked up at him with a mischievous smile. "And what are yellow roses for?"

"Friendship," he said regretfully. "Red are for love. I could take them back and get you red." Not that flowers could be returned, but there were some lovely red roses in that secret valley he liked to visit in South America...

She shook her head quickly. "No, don't take them back. I love them. Friendship is a wonderful place to start a relationship, after all."

Clark couldn't stop smiling. He was undoubtedly the luckiest guy in the world. He'd loved Lois for so long, but been convinced that she was above his reach, a dream he didn't deserve to have fulfilled. But as if by magic, they'd been drawn together, and he'd won his Lois. He might have been terrified that he'd wake up to find it all a dream, except that it felt so real, so right.

Lois laughed. "Clark, you have the silliest look on your face," she said. "What are you doing?"

"Just savoring the most perfect moment of my life," he told her honestly, just to see her blush again.

"I have an idea how we can make it even more perfect."

"What's that?"

"This." She grabbed his head and pulled him down until he was lying half across her on the couch.

"Lois! Your ankle!" he said worriedly.

She winked. "Who cares?"

He couldn't resist when she wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him to her. They kissed, first softly, then with all the passion they felt. When Clark felt Lois's mouth open beneath him, he knew he was in heaven. "Oh, Lois," he murmured against her mouth. "Lois, my Lois."

She wiggled just far enough away that she could face him. "*Your* Lois?"

Uh-oh. Had he gone to far? "I mean, uh..."

Lois laughed delightedly, a sound welcome to his ears. "I was just teasing you, Clark. I think I like the idea of being your Lois." She planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose. "Of course, if I'm going to be your Lois, I think you owe me red roses when we go on a real date."

"Does that mean we get a real date?" Clark asked hopefully.

Lois stared at him, startled. Then she quickly grabbed the pillow from behind her and whacked Clark across the back of the head with it. "You lunkhead, you'd better be taking me out on a date. If you're good, you might even get a second." She whacked him again.

For the safety of the pillow, Clark figured now might be a good time to divert her attention. He caught her wrist, freed the pillow, then pinned her to the couch and kissed her to distraction. By the time they finally came up for air, the roses were long since forgotten.

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