By Marnie Rowe <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: September, 2003
Summary: HiM (the first-season "Honeymoon in Metropolis") is a favorite episode of many folcs and like many out there has been rewritten many different ways. Thankfully the writers of the series gave us many episodes that we can exploit to our own ends.
HiM for Missy: Happy Birthday!
Clark heard the distinctive clatter of the cleaning gear of the housekeeping cart and panicked. All the surveillance gear was out in plain sight and they were behaving in a very un-newlywed manner. What to do …? Then it came to him, the same cover that Lois had used in the plane when that nutcase Trask had them captive in the plane! He tossed the surveillance gear onto the bed and threw the plush comforter over it to hide it.
Then, with no warning, he grabbed Lois and tossed her supine onto the bed beside the gear. A surprised 'Oh!' was expelled from her lush lips as she bounced on the plush mattress. Laying down — half beside, half on top of her — his lips covered hers, catching any protests that she might make from his high handed treatment.
Bare seconds had passed since he had heard the maid with his superpowers before he had acted. Lois struggled against him, not knowing what her futile movements were doing to his self-control, eroding it faster than a torrential river wore down a sandy barricade in its path. He could feel as his body reacted — no doubt Lois could as well.
Her eyes had been wide open the entire time that he had been kissing her, the anger in them making them bright and hard. Then the maid started fumbling at the lock and Clark could see the comprehension dawn in her eyes before she let them close. She stopped fighting him and started to play along. Clark did not know which scenario was worse.
When she had been fighting with him, he had been able to console himself that she would understand and not hate him for his actions. But now that she was playing along, it felt like his deepest desires and fantasies were coming true. Her hands threaded through his hair and massaged his skull. Soft moans and sighs escaped from between their joined mouths, as the seal between them would slip as their lips alternated positions.
Clark kept enough of his sanity to allow his hands not to roam, as they would have liked to be doing. He knew that if he kept his palms firmly cupping Lois' face that the temptation would not be as difficult to fight. He also used the maid's presence as a safety precaution; as long as he stayed focused on her progress as she entered the suite, he would be less likely to succumb to his baser desires.
His conscious attention was so focused on the maid's footsteps as she crossed the outer room that he felt each and every vibration that her movements made. Unfortunately, being so focused also made the time seem to pass even slower than he thought possible, so much so that each drugging kiss that he shared with Lois felt as if it spanned a blissful eternity.
By the time that the maid had opened the room's door and peeked in, Clark was in agony. Her stammered apology seemed to come from a far off distance as Clark felt his battle with himself begin to fail. Instinctively, his hips gently rocked as one of Lois' legs insinuated itself between his, to press against him in a subtle torture. His breath started to become labored as he kept fighting his internal urgings, but he was thankfully still sane enough to keep listening for when the outer door latched again behind the maid after she exited.
It was a wrench, but he managed to draw back out of the dreamlike embrace. Lois' eyes remained closed and her lips were slack. Her breath was not what he would call even, either. Clark wondered what was going through her mind at the moment.
"She's gone," he murmured.
Lois opened her eyes and looked at him. Clark was surprised to see something sad in their depths. Her tongue snaked out and wet her lips as she regained control of her breathing. Clark could not help it, his eyes tracked the movement of the little appendage avidly, remembering how it had felt as it had stroked and tangled with his own.
"Clark, I …" Lois began but didn't finish as Clark winced, prepared for her to blast him.
Lois did not know what to think. She had been very surprised and then angry when Clark had first started his caveman maneuvers but then she had understood that he had heard something that she hadn't when she too had heard the maid fumbling at the door.
That really was not why she was so confused, though — she had forgiven Clark for his untoward actions as soon as she had understood and started to play along. That was where the confusion had started.
What had started out as merely role-playing to keep the maid from blowing their cover had turned into a very real kissing session for Lois. Her hands in Clark's hair had originally been calculated but then had felt natural, as fires had burst into being inside her. She had begun to feel things that she had never before felt when she was with a man. Granted, her sexual experience to date was limited, but still, Clark had stirred feelings inside her that she didn't think that she was capable of.
She knew that he had been just as affected as well; there was no way a man could hide that in such close quarters. Lois snuck a peek at Clark where he was perched on the edge of the bed, confirming to herself that he still was just as overwrought. She allowed herself a thrill of power derived from her womanhood to suffuse her body before she firmly quashed it and turned her thoughts back to her dilemma.
Clark had been — okay, still was — as affected as she had been, so how had he managed to pull away when the maid had left? How had he kept from allowing things to take their natural course? Lois blushed as she thought how she would not have stopped him, she had been enjoying herself way too much, so how had he managed? He was male, not the half of the species known for restraint.
The best way to satisfy her curiosity was to ask, but Lois was not sure that she wanted to know the answer. She really did not want to know if his reaction was just that of a healthy male in response to proper stimuli. Mentally she sighed; she had to know, so she had to ask.
"Clark, can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?" Clark acknowledged her question, not looking at her. The tips of his ears were red.
"Why did you not keep… you know? I mean, it must have been obvious that I was willing. I was not going to fight you off — Well I guess that you knew that already. And, well, I could feel that you were just as interested — so what made you stop?"
Clark ducked his head and mumbled something that Lois could not make out.
"Do you not find me attractive in that way?" she asked in a small voice. That got a reaction out of Clark, his head whipped up and around so that he was facing her. She could see the shock on his face plain as day.
"What? Lois, lord, woman, you told me in no uncertain terms not to fall for you when we were working together over Platt's notes. Or don't you remember that? Well, what I never told you then was that your warning was too late. I'd already fallen — hard."
Lois gasped at the stark emotion in his voice. His hand came up and cupped her jaw.
"Lois, I fell in love with you the day that you stormed into the middle of my interview with Perry. I thought then and now that you are the most attractive woman that I have ever met, and remember, a Nigerian Princess taught me how to dance."
Lois had forgotten but now that he brought it up again she remembered and her hand went up to hold his in place against her jaw as she felt it beginning to slide away. She didn't want to lose the contact with him.
He smiled wryly and said, "The day after I met you I talked to my parents and told them about you. I said that you were the most complicated woman that I had ever met. Domineering, uncompromising, pig-headed… brilliant, beautiful, tenacious… they knew right there that I had found the woman that I was going to love for the rest of my life." His voice trailed off as his eyes took in her potent blush.
"The reason that I did not continue was because, simply put, you have never evinced that you thought of me that way. Not unless you were under the influence of a pheromone compound. No matter how much you were enjoying the moment, the thought of you hating me afterwards out of regret… that isn't something that I could ever deal with. I couldn't ever have you hate me for any reason."
"Clark, you are my best friend, and something more, I am beginning to think. You were right that I had never thought of you in that way before the Miranda incident, at least not consciously, but I think that I did from the moment that I heard the article on the theater that got you hired on at the Planet. The story touched me somewhere deep inside, and I think that part of the reason that I warned you off when we were trying to piece together Platt's report was because I was trying not to fall for you."
Clark gaped at her. "What?"
Lois giggled at his fish out of water impression. "I have been thinking a lot about this since I came out from under the influence of the pheromones. You were the one person that I was attracted to, not Lex, and I don't think Superman either — but since I never saw him during the time that I was being influenced, I guess that we will never know. But you did not take advantage of the situation — you never have taken advantage of any situation where we have been thrown together. But I knew that you were attracted, or at least I thought you were but then I began to think that the attraction was all on my end. You have never pushed for anything more than what I gave you, and even then you didn't take what was offered to you on a platter. I was feeling on the edge of despair that once again I was going to be doomed to half a relationship."
"Oh, Lois…" Clark's voice sounded tortured. "I love you and there is nothing more that I would love to do than to take the next step with you. I was afraid of the same things as you were."
Lois smiled at him and turned her head to kiss his palm. "So much angst and worry that could have been avoided had we only talked to each other about what was in our hearts," she murmured.
Clark answered her with a smile of his own, and then his brow furrowed a bit as he seemed to be thinking of something. His face smoothed again, as he came to a conclusion and he nodded decisively.
"Listen, let's set up the gear to operate on motion sensor so that we don't have to hang around. Then we can go for Chinese. What do you say?"
Lois did not need to be invited twice. She nodded her assent and began to set the gear up again as Clark went into the other room and made sure that no-one could get into the suite while they were gone.
When Lois left the bedroom she stopped dead as she saw that Clark had wedged a ladder-back chair under the doorknob. "Clark, how are we going to be able to leave if you have that chair there?" she asked in confusion.
"By Superman Express."
"Clark, we can't call Superman to act as our taxi service!" Lois said, scandalized.
"We don't need to call him, Lois, he's already here." With that said he began to spin in place, becoming a blur that soon was highlighted in familiar red and blue tones, before he slowed down again and Superman stood where her partner had been only a moment before. He seemed a bit different from when he normally appeared as the hero, though. Lois tried to pinpoint what was off and then she realized that he was not using the superhero's mannerisms, he was still using Clark's.
Lois was speechless — Clark was Superman! And what a way to change clothes!
"I was thinking that we could go to a little place that I know in Shanghai, that okay with you, Lois?" Clark/Superman asked.
"Sure, that sounds great but I have just one question before we go — where are your other clothes?"
Clark laughed, that was his Lois, always asking questions. He scooped her up into his arms, effortlessly this time, and flew them off the balcony. If someone had been in the room they would have heard Lois asking faintly, "No really, Clark, where do they go?"