By Irene D. <email@example.com>
Submitted August 1999
Summary: Superman is finally showing interest in Lois … but will a slip of the tongue change everything?
What a difference a few minutes could make sometimes. Lois had been feeling a little wistful, a little melancholy after arriving home from the charity ball. She hadn't been home long though when things had changed for her.
It had been harder than she expected, stepping aside for Mayson when the deputy D.A. had horned in on Lois's dance with Clark. It had felt nice, to be in his arms. They did dance well together. He really was *such* a nice guy; it was hard to believe that he wasn't too good to be true. Fortunately, he had little quirky habits that irritated her, or she would have felt a little inferior to him. Yes, it was irritating when he edited her copy, or when he pulled his "I know better what's good for you" routine. And it was especially irritating when he pulled one of his disappearing acts. But Lois knew that she too was not without flaws. She liked her own quirks. They helped to define her both to herself and to others. If she was going to be accepting of her own idiosyncracies, she had to be accepting of Clark's too, although she would never admit it to him. It was nice to have a best friend like Clark — more than nice. That's why it was so hard to see him under the spell of a manipulative, desperate, fingerwrapping misfit like Mayson. Yes, Lois said to herself, that's why it felt wrong to see him with Mayson. It's because Mayson's not a nice person; it's not for any other reason. Or is it?
Lois forced the negative thoughts out of her head, and put on her favourite blues CD. She dipped and swirled lightly in her apartment as the haunting strains of "Fly Me to the Moon" started. She came out of a slow spin to see Superman land lightly in front of her. He had come to thank her for her help with the Intergang problem. As he started to leave, she heard herself invite him to dance.
"That would be nice," he replied, in that deliciously warm voice.
They danced in silence for a moment.
"I love this song," he said, smiling warmly.
"Do you? I've been thinking … I really don't know very much about you - what music you like, what your favourite colour is — I didn't even know that you could dance."
He smiled at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "This isn't dancing."
"No, this is."
And to Lois's amazement, they lifted off the floor until they were dancing suspended in mid-air. She was delighted when Superman closed her window using his breath. It was a sign that for once, he wasn't in a hurry to leave. He dipped her, and then they continued to swirl through the air. The atmosphere was charged. Lois could feel a hint of Superman's emotions, just by the tender way he held her, and by the warmth in his eyes. She felt herself drowning in his liquid gaze, leaning in to him, lifting her face up to his. Their lips touched gently. She moved a little closer, and leaned her hand on his chest. They floated motionless, all pretence of dancing over with. He pulled her closer and lightly wrapped his arms around her. Lois lifted her head higher and started to delicately kiss and nuzzle his neck. He was rigid under her ministrations for a long, pregnant moment, until he sighed softly and tentatively started to caress her back and her arms. She felt as if she were made of spun sugar; he touched her so carefully. Lois responded by wrapping her arms even tighter around him, and kissing him again. This kiss brought their emotions to the forefront. Their passions flared, as the kiss continued and intensified. Superman floated them down to her sofa and somehow, Lois ended up sitting on his lap. Holding his face between her two small hands, she continued to kiss him, on the lips, the forehead, his neck, his jawline, anywhere she could reach. He nuzzled into her, kissing her feverishly too.
Her hands started to roam over his back, and his arms. He took her by surprise when he bent his head and kissed her cleavage. She had never felt so beautiful. She couldn't help but moan. She could feel his response as he pressed into her. He gasped and it was his turn to moan when she brought her hands to his chest and caressed him in return. Being in his arms felt so right; it felt like coming home.
"Oh, Clark," she exclaimed huskily.
"Oh, Lois." He continued to feverishly kiss her, then suddenly paused. He lifted his head and surveyed her with a strange expression on his face. "Did you just call me Clark?"
"Of course not. I didn't." She sat up straight, moving her body off his lap. "Did I?"
"Yes, you did. You called me Clark."
Lois's hands flew up to her flaming cheeks. How could she have done something like this? What must he think? "I'm … sorry, Superman. I don't know what I was thinking." She burst into mortified tears.
He took her hand in his. "It's all right, Lois. I'm not insulted. I know Clark's a good friend of yours."
"But Superman … I want you to know we're not … romantically involved."
"Maybe you want to be."
Oh, how could Superman be so calm about all this? Lois was still humiliated by her error. She shook her head. "I don't think I do, but sometimes I get so confused I don't know which end is up. I thought I had feelings for Lex, but I didn't, and even if I did, I shouldn't have. I know I have feelings for you, but until tonight, you didn't seem to be comfortable with that." She glanced at him pointedly. He looked down, obviously a little ill at ease. "And maybe I have feelings for Clark that I wasn't even aware of. If that's not confused, I don't know what is!"
Superman reached out and laid the palm of his big strong hand against her cheek. "You know what I think, Lois? I think you need some time to sort your feelings out. I wouldn't be a good friend unless I backed off and gave you that time, would I?"
She smiled at him through a haze of tears. "You are a good friend, and … maybe more than a good friend. But you're right. I need time to learn to trust my own feelings again. Thank you, Superman."
He smiled, bent his head down and kissed her again. It was a gentle kiss, not a passionate one, as if he were saying farewell. Then he was gone. Lois moved slowly to the open window, closed it and latched it. She was a long time looking out the window before she went to bed. And it was a long time before she went to sleep that night.