By Tracey <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: June 2002
Summary: What if Clark refused to let Lois leave with Lex during the infamous "Arrggh" episodes by reminding her of what they mean to each other? In this vignette, the author rights the wrongs of the scene we saw during the third season.
The idea for this vignette has been floating around for some time on my computer, but it wasn't until very recently that I decided to finish it up. It's set during S3, during the 'Arrggh' arc… I know, but just stay with me, okay, guys? <g> I'm going to try to right some wrongs here. <g>
I'm incredibly grateful to Wendy for beta-reading this for me—if it weren't for her support and encouragement, I would have never finished it. Wendy, thanks so much— you're terrific. :) Thanks also to Annie, who read a little of this on IRC and offered her encouragement as well. :)
All usual disclaimers apply. Lois, Clark, and all related characters are the property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement intended.
This vignette was posted on April 2nd for my dear friend Helene on her birthday. :) Happy Birthday, Helene!
"Why did I trust you, even for a second?" Clark practically spit the words, grabbing Luthor by the collar of his shirt and hauling him up until they met at eye level. There was an evil glint in Luthor's eyes, almost as if the former billionaire knew he had the upper hand.
Right then and there, Clark wanted so badly to just forget his ethics and punch Luthor so hard that his body would orbit Saturn for the rest of eternity. The two men stayed locked in their own battle for another moment, each unwilling to break the eye contact, unwilling to give in.
Finally, Luthor looked away, turning his head toward the other side of the car.
"Just trying to protect her… " Luthor paused, and then pushed at Clark's chest, breaking his hold. "… *Clark*," he finished pointedly, glancing behind him at Lois seated in the passenger seat of the car as he emphasized Clark's name. That triggered something in Clark, like a shadow passing over his mind, almost as if trying to remind him of some lost information that he should have remembered. There was something about the way Luthor said his name…
He ignored it. Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Lois was getting out of the car, and she was alive, safe, and as beautiful as ever. Suddenly, he needed desperately to touch her, to hold her and assure himself that she was okay. Luthor was forgotten in an instant as he rushed over to her, her name on his lips.
He threw his arms around her, gathering her close and tangling one large hand into the mass of dark curls at the back of her head. Reverently, he whispered her name again, tightening his hold even more. His relief at seeing her safe was so intense that he didn't even register the fact that she had made no move to return his avid embrace.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes shut, and planted a happy, moist kiss on her cheek, and then moved lower, dropping another at the side of her throat. "Are you all right? You are all right, right?" he asked her urgently, without truly waiting for her answer. He was in the process of making sure that she was fine, sliding his hands up and down her arms and his lips across her face. Her skin was as soft as he remembered, and she still had that distinct scent that was just *Lois*, even though it had been dampened by the odor of a cheaper perfume. She fit into his arms just as perfectly as he remembered, and he wanted to reassure himself the same would hold true when their lips met again.
His eyes still closed, Clark found her mouth with a skill born of many hours' practice. Strangely, he felt her hands push slightly at his arms, almost as if she'd thought about pulling away. That was odd, but before he could really think about her reaction, he felt her fingers clenched reflexively into the flesh of his forearm at the first touch of his lips on hers.
He caught his breath at the sweetness of her taste. It felt like a million years had passed since he'd last kissed her, and he needed this now more than he needed his next breath. "Oh, Lois." He whispered her name as he guided her mouth against his, trying to show her with his lips how much he loved her and just how much he had missed her. These last two weeks had been the worst of his life.
But none of that mattered any more. She was in his arms, where she belonged, and he wasn't going to let anything tear them apart ever again.
'What is he doing?'
'Wait,' she thought wildly, trying to grab onto some semblance of control, even as hungry lips closed again and again over hers. This definitely wasn't in her script. No one had said anything about this. This wasn't supposed to happen.
And this definitely wasn't supposed to feel this good.
Why hadn't Kent warned her? Why hadn't he told her that Clark would try to kiss her? Kent had said something about Clark trying to convince her that she loved him, but this? This she wasn't prepared for. This she didn't know how to handle.
Confused and unsure of her next move, she let the warm kiss continue. Kent had told her that she would have to call on all her acting abilities in order to convince Clark that she really was this strange woman named Lois Lane.
An odd assignment for a nightclub singer…well, sure, but who cared? If that was what it took to make sure that she would be able to spend the rest of her life with Kent—the man she loved—then so be it. Her life was so screwed up that it didn't matter to her anymore. She would do this. She would do what he had told her.
'When he calls you Lois, respond.'
'When he tells you that he loves you, tell him that you love me.'
'When he tells you to go with him, tell him that you need to go with me.'
'No matter what he says, Clark doesn't love you. He lies to you, has always lied to you.'
Kent's voice was in her head, almost hypnotic, whispering his instructions. It was almost a relief to have some direction, some course of action to follow. She listened and obeyed, grateful for the guidance in the midst of the chaos in her own mind. She knew what she had to do next.
Pulling away from Clark, she broke their embrace forcefully. She glanced quickly at Kent, who gave her an encouraging smile in return. She sucked in a quick breath to fortify her. "Clark, we have to talk."
He seemed a bit dazed, but her words did seem to register. "Yeah, but let's get you safe first." His hands cupped her shoulders as if urging her to come with him. She resisted, standing rigidly against his embrace.
Safe. Wasn't she safe here, with Kent? And just what was 'safe,' anyway? Was safe running from cops and catching rides with strangers and hiding out in sleazy nightclubs? Was that safe? She almost laughed out loud. She'd never been safe in her life. In fact, as crazy as it seemed, the only time she'd actually felt safe was just a few minutes ago, when she'd been wrapped in Clark's arms…
'Stop it, Wanda!' she chided herself. That was one of the most ridiculous thoughts she'd ever had!
She had to get hold of her thoughts and get back to her script. "I'm safe now… with Lex."
She watched confusion sweep over his face in the instant that the words left her mouth. In reality, she was pretty confused herself—she was having a hard time saying the word 'Lex.' Why was Kent asking her to call him by another name? And why was Clark buying it? Clark knew who Kent was! There was something very weird going on.
She shook her head slightly, as if trying to clear the cobwebs and make sense of it all. This was definitely one of the stranger situations she'd ever been in, and there had been some pretty strange ones.
"What? What are you talking about?" Bewilderment was being transferred from his face and had begun to bleed into his tone of voice.
"Clark, we've been saved from a horrible mistake." She fell back into her script, saying the things that Kent had told her to say.
Good, good. He was supposed to ask that. She knew how to respond to that.
"Getting married." She watched as disbelief flashed again across his features. "I had doubts, but I was afraid to disappoint you…our parents. I couldn't even face you, so that's why I hid here, pretending to be Wanda, but the truth is that… I'm just not the type to get married."
His hands, his body, were perfectly still now, frozen in horror at her words. She plunged on, needing to insert that final dagger that would allow her to leave. "I need to go away and sort things out."
"Go… where?" There was a pitiful note to his voice now, but she ignored it.
"Wherever Lex takes me. Seeing him again has brought back all my old feelings." God, she hated calling him 'Lex.' The name stuck to her tongue and caused a sick, twisting feeling in her stomach each time she said it.
"What old feelings?" He sounded half frustrated and half hesitant, almost as if he was afraid of her answer.
"I love him," she answered quickly and with striking force. And even though she knew those words were true, they rang false even in her own ears. But that didn't make any sense. She did love Kent.
"Lois, you don't mean this," Clark said desperately, bringing his warm hands up against her arms. She couldn't help it; she looked down at the place where the soft skin of his palm connected with her own skin. And even though she knew that it shouldn't, his touch felt right, good and familiar. It made her head spin and confused her. She didn't have much time to dwell on that, though; he was talking again.
"What about… me?" Clark asked her softly, and she heard the torrent of hurt, bewilderment, and betrayal in his voice. His tone made her feel those strange feelings again, and deep inside, she ached for him. She just wanted this all to be over, all this confusion and hurt and unknown feelings.
But Kent had said that he would make everything better if she just followed his directions, and so she did.
But not because it felt like the right thing to do.
"I don't love you." She said the words coldly and without emotion, in just the way Kent had instructed her.
But even though she knew intellectually that she didn't love this Clark person, it still hurt her to say the words out loud, and again, she wondered why. Perhaps it was because of the shock evident in his face; she couldn't help but be drawn to the troubled, deep brown eyes, and there was a stab of pain through her heart as she looked at him.
It didn't make sense, but it had hurt *her* to have to hurt him. He looked so confused, so lost. She wanted to ask him why, but that wasn't in her script, so she kept her mouth shut. She began to back away, needing space while she finished her rehearsed speech.
"Now Clark, I'm leaving, and if you love me as much as you say you do, you'll just let me—" But before she could utter another word, he grabbed at her arms again, dragging her back to him. She gasped at the strength she felt his grip; it felt like he could easily snap her neck if he wished, and that was exactly the kind of behavior that Kent had told her Clark was capable of. But as she watched his eyes now, oddly enough, she didn't feel threatened in the least.
"Lois, I don't know yet what he has done to you, but please, you have to listen to me." His tone was strong, his eyes pleading.
He wasn't supposed to react this way. This wasn't how Kent had told her Clark would react. He was supposed to be stunned and withdrawn and let her leave without trying to stop her. "No!" She struggled in his grip, but he only held tighter. Her head was hurting, and she was tired. She needed to get away.
"Just listen to me."
Still she refused to look at him. "No," she whimpered. "No, please."
"I'll let you go, I promise." At these words, she glanced up at him. He wasn't finished, however. "I'll let you go, but I need you to do one thing for me," Clark told her, his eyes intent on hers.
She looked over at Kent, not sure what her next move should be, but he was silent, watching her encounter with Clark with a snide smile, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He made no move to help her, no indication that he'd even heard Clark's request.
After a moment, she turned back to Clark and nodded her agreement, eager to get out of this strange acting job. She'd do whatever he wanted her to, and then she could leave.
But she wasn't prepared for what he asked her to do next.
"Let me kiss you again, one last time," Clark whispered fiercely, low enough so that no one but she could hear him. "And if you can look me in the eye and tell me that you don't feel anything, I'll let you drive away with him… and I'll never come after you."
His plea was desperate, but there was a quiet confidence in his voice that she couldn't dismiss. "I… can't… " She murmured a faint protest, but already, her lips were betraying her, sending thousands of signals to her brain, all of which were telling her to agree to his proposition. She couldn't help it; she was curious as to whether the kiss between them earlier had been merely a fluke, a figment of her imagination, or a fantasy of her overstressed mind.
Her resolve weakened even more as he slid a hand up the line of her jaw and brought her face closer to his. The brush of his fingers against her cheek were doing some crazy, wonderful things to her body, making her shiver and become even more aware of him.
But how could she? She wasn't supposed to want this; she was supposed to want Kent's kiss, not Clark's!
"Lois," Clark murmured in a quietly husky voice that mesmerized her. He caught her eyes, fusing them in his gaze, and she couldn't look away. She swayed toward him slightly, and that seemed all the invitation he needed.
"Come back to me, Lois," he whispered, just seconds before his lips descended on hers for the second time in a matter of minutes. She tried desperately not to move her mouth— to remain still so that he would move away from her—but she couldn't. Her lips responded to the sweet pressure of his mouth almost instinctively, surrendering without reservation, as if she'd done it countless times before.
She gasped as he moved deeper, molding their mouths together with an efficiency and fluency that she hadn't imagined possible. Something sparked between them, whether it was passion, electricity, or need, she didn't know; she knew only that it was powerful and potent.
With a shock, she realized that their first encounter hadn't been a fluke. This kiss only reaffirmed what she'd felt before. She *knew* this touch and this taste. It was the very touch she'd craved for days without ever knowing why, the very touch she'd felt a thousand times in her dreams each night for as long as she could remember. It felt perfect, and for several blissful seconds, she forgot that they were in a back alley of the Ace o' Clubs. She forgot about Kent.
As they kissed, Clark's words came back to her, echoing through her head, sounding strangely like he was calling to her. His voice had taken on a far away quality in her mind, and she heard it almost like she was in a deep fog, struggling to find her way.
'Come back to me, Lois… '
'Come back to me… '
She couldn't figure out what he meant. And why did he keep calling her 'Lois'? Kent had said that Clark would do this and that she should be prepared for it. He hadn't explained why, though, and that rubbed her the wrong way. Was she normally this suspicious by nature? She had no reason to doubt what Kent had told her; she loved him and he loved her.
So why did she feel like something was desperately wrong with this situation? Why was she so eager to learn the reason why Clark kept calling her 'Lois'?
The name meant something to her, that much she knew. She'd felt something tugging strongly at her, especially when he'd whispered it to her just a few seconds before his lips had descended on hers.
Their kiss continued, longer and sweeter than her kiss with Kent had been.
Kent. This name meant something to her as well, she was sure of that. But of course it did, right? It was the name of the man she loved with all her heart.
But it sounded funny to her to call someone Kent as a first name—strangely, it reminded her more of a last name. Of course, that was ridiculous. Kent was standing right over by the car.
Kent was standing there, watching them.
Kent was watching her, and her reckless surrender to this kiss.
With a gasp, she wrenched her mouth away from Clark's, her eyes wide.
It was heaven, Clark decided, reveling in the softness of her lips. It was heaven to kiss her and have her kiss him in return. It was enough, for now. He'd deal with whatever brainwashing Luthor had done to her later.
Lex obviously hadn't succeeded in burying Lois's true feelings. Clark could feel her response, the same response she always had when they kissed: the race of her heartbeat, the way she let her body slide against his, the catch in her breath when he nipped at her bottom lip in the way he knew she loved. It was something Lex had never had and never would have, no matter what he did to her. The thought helped to comfort him and gave him the strength he knew he would need as he fought this latest battle with his archenemy.
Wrapped in his thoughts, he was caught unaware when she tore the connection between their lips and stepped away from him.
Disoriented, he opened his eyes just in time to catch her retreat. Her eyes were wild and scared, and her mouth—her beautiful, kiss-swollen mouth—was open and forming the words "Oh my… " over and over again.
"You feel it, don't you?" he asked suddenly. And he knew it was true. She looked scared because she could feel the love between them—only she thought she wasn't supposed to. "Lois, it's okay. It's supposed to feel like this," he tried to reassure her. "We're in love, Lois." He reached for her again, but at his touch, she seemed to come out of her daze.
She jerked away from him. "No! Stop calling me that!" she shouted, and he could see that she was fighting tears. He watched her, seeing her struggle, knowing how hard this was for her, and his heart ached. She'd lost her memory, spent weeks playing a fictional character that she herself had invented, and had now been brainwashed by one of the most evil, conniving men in the world. She'd been through it all.
He could feel how confused she was—it fairly radiated from her—but there was nothing he could do to help her. He was frustrated, too. He'd thought for sure that kissing him again would make her wake up and realize what was happening. He'd thought for sure that their love was strong enough to overcome anything—amnesia, alternate personalities… even Lex Luthor.
What if he'd been wrong?
He'd made such a desperate gamble, telling her that he would let her go if she kissed him just one more time. She'd allowed him that kiss, but now it looked as if it hadn't done any good—he was no better off than he had been before the kiss.
Suddenly, there was a part of him that just wanted to give up—a part of him so stunned by each turn of events and so battered by each rejection that he felt that he just couldn't take it anymore. It seemed that, for the first time, the situation that he was up against was bigger than even Superman. He was going to lose her. A sick feeling filled his stomach as he realized that he was going to have to watch Luthor drive away with the woman he loved.
Could he really do that, though? Could he really let *Luthor,* of all people, take her away? But his kiss hadn't worked, and he had promised Lois…
But promise to Lois or not, he could *not* let that happen. It had taken him this long to find Lois, and he was not about to give up on her now. He and Lois were meant to be together, and he was going to prove it. He'd fight through anything—and anyone—that he had to, but he was not going to just let her drive off with Luthor. No matter what it took, he was going to fight for her. He pushed his fear of losing her to the back of his mind, resolving not to dwell on 'what ifs.' Right now, he had a bride to rescue and a love to reclaim.
Recharged by his internal pep talk, he spoke quietly, but with determination and force. "Why should I stop calling you that, Lois? It's your name."
And then he smiled at her.
Tears of frustration filled her eyes, threatening to fill over her rouge-reddened cheeks. She couldn't take this any more! The world felt like it was shifting under her feet, sliding and spinning faster than she could keep up with, spiraling and swirling in a whirlwind of confusion. It felt like everyone around her knew something she didn't, and she *hated* that feeling. She just wanted this all to be over.
It wasn't helping, though, that he kept calling her 'Lois.' Every single time he said it, something pricked at her, deep inside, and she couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was very right about the way he talked to her, touched her…the way he kissed her.
There was just something very right about Clark, period.
"You feel it, don't you?"
Yes, she did. She'd felt it from the first moment he'd touched her.
"Lois, it's okay. It's supposed to feel like this."
"We're in love, Lois."
They were in love. He loved her… he was *in* love with her. Why did that feel so good to hear? Like that was exactly what she needed?
'No matter what he says, Clark doesn't love you. He lies to you, has always lied to you.'
Kent's voice was back, louder and more insistent… more desperate—almost as if it were begging her to listen and to go along with his instructions. It was no longer whispering seductively, knowing that she would follow blindly. Now there was a doubt.
Clark's voice was in her head now, too, revolving over and over in her mind, competing with Kent's.
'We're in love… Lois… come back to me… Lois… '
She grabbed her head, needing to make the conflicting thoughts stop. Clark reached for her, but she jerked away from his touch. Frustration prompted her next words. "No! Stop calling me that!" she yelled, trying to make him aware of how it was hurting her to keep hearing the name 'Lois.' Her voice wavered dangerously, and she was again on the verge of tears.
"Why should I stop calling you that, Lois? It's your name."
Vaguely she heard his words, cutting through her clouded mind. But beyond his words, it was his next move that made her stop. It caught her completely off-guard, freezing her in the street.
He smiled at her. In the midst of all that was going on, he was standing in front of her, smiling at her—a wide, adoring smile, full of love and tenderness. And she knew instinctively that she'd seen this smile many times before.
"What… " she murmured, completely taken aback.
"It's your name," he continued, looking at her wonderingly, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "It's your wonderful, beautiful name—a name that I fell in love with from the first time I heard it." His hand reached up toward her face, but this time, she didn't flinch or pull away. She couldn't. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't have moved.
And as his fingers moved against her check, sliding past her ear and into curls still stiff with layers of hairspray, he continued to speak, his voice trembling even as he smiled at her. "But you know, the name doesn't matter to me. I fell in love with the woman… I fell in love with *you* from the moment I met you," he whispered, and tears collected in the corners of his eyes as he stared at her.
His hand nestled itself even deeper into her hair, his palm finally coming to rest against her cheek, cupping it lovingly. She closed her eyes at the sensuous touch—a touch that felt so perfect that there was no way in the world that it could be wrong.
And when his thumb swept across her cheekbone, she gasped softly. Suddenly, behind her closed eyelids, her mind's eye was flooded with images. Time seemed to slow as these pictures flashed repeatedly before her: she and Clark, seated on the cement steps in front of his apartment, his hand against her cheek in the exact same fashion as it was now; she and Superman, in the living room of her apartment as she prepared to risk her life to save Clark's parents, his hand in her hair in exactly the same manner.
She relived the shock of that first touch, remembering how she had finally put two and two together—Clark was Superman, and Superman was Clark. They were one and the same, and she'd known because both men had touched her with the same gentle, loving concern…
… the same gentle, loving concern that she was feeling in the touch that he was giving her right now.
Her eyes snapped open, and it was as if she was seeing the world in an entirely different light. The scattered pieces of her life seemed to suddenly right themselves inside her mind, falling into place and allowing her to make sense of everything. Her mouth opened on a silent cry of joy, her eyes widened in disbelief, and her hand came flying up to clasp his against her face. "Oh, Clark!"
There were no more words, nothing she could say that could adequately describe what was happening in her mind and body. It was like the floodgates had opened, and everything was rushing back to her—the kidnapping, the botched wedding, being Lex's prisoner, escaping and trying to find Clark, hitting her head, becoming Wanda Detroit and singing here, at the Ace o' Clubs… it was all there.
Oh, god, it was all there! She wasn't Wanda Detroit, nightclub singer; she was Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet!
Her eyes filled with tears, but this time, they were tears of elation. She looked up at Clark, suddenly needing desperately to tell him that she was fine, that they were fine, that everything was going to be fine…
"I think we've spent enough time on this good-bye, my dear."
Lex's annoyed voice broke into her amazing revelation, and she turned her head, realizing that he was now standing beside her, wrapping one arm around her and tugging her to him. Clark's hand fell away, and she tried to grab onto it, needing to keep that connection that had become her lifeline, but it was too late. Lex was already pulling her away. "Clark—"
"Come now, my love, I think you've said all you needed to say to him." Lex turned to address Clark, even as he moved her further away. "Tough break, old man. Looks like even your kisses couldn't convince her to stay—perhaps that should tell you something?" Lex smirked at Clark, the corners of his mouth upturned. "Though it was an interesting approach, I must say—entertaining, too. But alas, the woman has made her decision—hope you'll handle it with dignity." He started to back away, taking Lois with him.
Lois watched everything that was going on around her almost as if she were floating above the whole thing. Clark was standing completely still, almost as if the shock of what was happening had temporarily rendered him motionless. No matter what she did, she couldn't get her body to obey her mind, which was currently screaming at her to get away from Lex. "Clark!" she managed to cry again, and this time, there was a desperate edge to her voice that seemed to spur him into action.
He came after them, grabbing Luthor by the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't know yet what you've done to her, but I will find out. And I will bring Lois back… if I have to go right through you to do it, I will. I promise you," he vowed, his voice menacing. Lois heard his words, realizing that he didn't know yet that she had regained her memory.
Lex shook him off. "My, my, that sounds like a threat, Clark. My woman doesn't take kindly to threats."
But before Clark could respond, Lois finally seemed to get her bearings. She wrenched herself free from Lex's grasp, stumbling out of his reach. "I am not your woman, Lex!" she yelled, barely registering his look of surprise. "I never have been, and I never will be!"
"Wanda, what are you talking about?" Lex asked, still infuriatingly calm.
"I'm talking about what you tried to do to me, Lex! Taking advantage of my vulnerable state and twisting me into what you wanted! Not to mention kidnapping me from my own wedding and then trying to fly me off to the Alps!" Lois spat at him. She knew that she would have to stop soon; there was a certain hysteria and fury that came with relating all the awful events of her life these past couple of weeks, and she didn't want to lose it right in the middle of the street.
"Lois, you… " Clark looked at her, joy and wonder dawning in his face. "You know who you are! You remember!"
"Yes," she cried, wanting to run to him and be swept up in his safe, strong arms. But she knew that there was a certain villain that they had to take care of first…
Clark seemed to be following the same train of thought, because he immediately ran to Luthor, who was trying to make a quick getaway in the black sedan that was still sitting running in the street. Clark grabbed both of Luthor's arms, yanking them forcefully behind his back. "And just where do you think you're going, Luthor? I don't think we're finished here just yet."
Lex didn't respond; he merely gave Clark a seething look of hatred.
"Lois, perhaps you want to go call the police?" Clark asked, and she nodded quickly, turning to go back inside the club where she could use the phone.
"Actually, I already did," came a voice, and as they all turned to look, the clone Lois emerged from the alley, cell phone in hand. "They're on their way."
Clark looked surprised, but the clone only shrugged. "I wanted to help you catch Lex," she said in childish explanation. "He yelled at me a lot." And with that, she marched back into the club, her head high.
Clark could only shake his head and look over at Lois, who could only shake her head as well. If there was ever a time in her life that she wanted to forget, it was definitely going to be this one.
It took only a few minutes for sirens to begin blaring down the street behind the Ace o' Clubs, and soon, Lex Luthor was in handcuffs and being unceremoniously stuffed into the back of a patrol car.
The second he was out of sight, Lois went to Clark, and he immediately folded her in his arms. For a long moment, there were no words between them, each needing only the comfort of the other. Clark was the one to finally pull back slightly, but even then he didn't speak. Questions could be asked later, and there was plenty of time for talking. For now, though, he simply leaned down and took her lips in a sweet, healing kiss.
Sagging against his body, she melted beneath the caress, feeling that same gentleness, that same loving concern she'd felt in the earlier touch that had triggered her memory. Tears of happiness and relief pooled behind her closed eyelids, and her heart swelled with love for the man who had refused to give up on her, even when the situation had looked bleak. He'd loved and believed in her enough to fight for her, and for that she would always be grateful.
Almost as if he'd read her thoughts, he broke the kiss and whispered softly against her mouth, nuzzling his nose against hers. "I'd never let you walk away, Lois," he murmured. "I promise that I'll never let you go."
"I know," she replied simply. And she knew that he was telling her the truth.