Assignment III: Assignment: Hawaii

By CarolM <>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: September 2008

Summary: Third in the author's "Assignment" series. Lois and Clark finally uncover the scheme haunting honeymooners around the country, but will they manage to get the story or will they be too distracted? A response to the First Lines and Labby's One Hour Challenges.


Thanks to Beth for her wonderful BRing and to Queenie for all her title assistance. Some of the dialogue you will likely recognize.


"How long have you known you could fly?" Lois asked as she wandered around his apartment.

"Since I was eighteen. Even after everything else, it was quite a shock." He shoved another pair of jeans into the bag.

"I can imagine."

"It was the last of my powers to develop," he called from the bathroom, where he gathered toiletries to take with him.

"What was the first?"

He stuck the smaller bag into his duffle. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, the invulnerability, hearing and speed all sort of kicked in around the same time. I think the invulnerability was probably first because I never really got sick or hurt or anything like that, even when I was a little kid. By the time I was in second grade or so I was faster than other kids and could hear better, but it was probably junior high before I really started being different."

"At least I got to pack this time," she said as she set a picture back on a shelf.

"Did you bring your bag with you or do we need to go get it?"

She pointed to the duffel near the front door. "Brought it, but that's something we need to talk about."

"What's that?" Clark asked as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Where we're going to live."

"Are you sure about this?" He ran a hand along her upper arm.

She nodded. "You've been my best friend for a long time, Clark, and I'm sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Does that mean I get to kiss you for real?"

She shrugged. "If you play your cards right," she told him with a coy look on her face as she headed towards the stairs and the front door.

He groaned slightly. "And what cards are those?"

She shrugged again. "You have to figure that out for yourself."


"You're really sure?" Clark asked her as they landed outside.

Lois rolled her eyes and moved away from him. "If you ask me that again, it's going to be a long time before you get lucky, mister."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, resting his other hand on her cheek. "I just can't believe this really happened."

She smiled up at him. "It really happened."

"You're really my wife?" he whispered.

She nodded. "And you're my husband."

"I won't ask you again, I promise."

"Good. But before we get to have a real honeymoon," she sighed, "we have to figure out what's going on here."

"Do I get to kiss you?"

"Maybe," she said, looking up at him from under impossibly long eyelashes.

"Did I play my cards right?"

"You're working on it. So far, so good, anyway."

"Are you going to tell me what it is that I did?"

"Nope. Not until later."

He took her by the hand and picked their bags back up. "Then let's go check in and get this over with."


"You got a kick out of that this time, didn't you?" Clark whispered as he stood behind her, as close as he dared.

"Out of what?"

"Telling her that we're Mr. and Mrs. Clark Kent."

She shrugged. "Maybe a little bit." The elevator opened in front of them. "Make it look good, Kent."

Even with her words, he was surprised when she flung her arms around his neck and started kissing him before the doors closed.

He dropped the bags and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him as he kissed her back enthusiastically.

She moved back just far enough to speak. "We're still on assignment for now," she whispered.

He nodded slightly. "I know."

"So that's not a real kiss."

"It's not?"

"Nope." She straightened her shirt slightly as the doors opened on their floor.

He picked up the bags and followed her to their room. He dug the key out of his pocket and opened the doors. "Don't move," he whispered.

She stood still and before she knew it he was back and sweeping her into his arms.

"Nice," she whispered.

"Is that one of those cards I was supposed to play?"


He set her down next to the couch. "Any idea on what to do now?"

She shook her head. "Not sure. Wait, I guess."

"Are you hungry?" He pulled the menu out of the drawer.

She nodded. "Do they serve breakfast all day?"

He nodded. "You want breakfast?"

"French toast, if that's all right."

He shrugged. "You can eat whatever you want, honey."

She smiled and moved closer to him, one finger resting right below his rib cage. "Honey?"

"You want honey on your French toast?" he asked, confused.

"No, silly." She smiled up at him. "You just called me 'honey'."

"I did?"

She nodded. "What else are you going to call me?"

He ran a finger through her hair. "Sweetheart?"

She nodded again.


She wrinkled her nose a little bit.

"My little... tornado," he whispered, kissing her nose.


"You, apparently, have never see yourself when you're on the trail of something big."

"I'm like a tornado?"

"Remember the time I came to your apartment during the whole Stuart Hofferman thing?"


"Did you not see it before I cleaned up?"

She smiled at him.


"You get all the chores."

"That's not fair," he protested.

"You can do them all in less time than it would take me to put my hair up in a ponytail so I could."


She sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll do some."

"Like what?"

"Laundry," she said, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. "Tell me, does the Suit shrink if you wash it in hot water? And can you wash the capes with your dress shirts?"

He groaned. "*I'll* do the laundry."

"Good plan." She stretched out on the couch. "Now, would you order breakfast already?"


"Cla-rk," Lois said in a breathless tone.

"Just a sec, Lois," he said as he studied the paper.

"Whatcha readin'?"

"About the dock strike. You know, the two sides really aren't that far apart."

She moved closer to him as she unbuttoned another button on her blouse. "How far apart are they?" she asked, her voice deep and husky.

He looked up at her, puzzled. "Lois, are you okay?"

"Never better," she said, moving to sit on his lap. "I just can't help noticing how handsome you look today."

"Handsome?" he asked with a raised brow. Weren't they supposed to be on a story still?

"Very," she whispered as she kissed him softly.

He carefully picked her up and set her back on the ground. "We're working still. Get a grip."

"Believe me," she said, advancing towards him until he backed into the wall. "I'd love to."

"I'm not sure what kind of game you're playing, honey, but until we finish this story..." He swallowed hard as she nuzzled his neck. "You're making me uncomfortable."

"Forget about the story, forget about time, forget about the rest of the world."

"Lois, we need to talk about this."

"Yes, we do," she sighed, her breath warming his ear. "I have so much to say."

"There's something strange going on around here. Maybe this is..."

"Strange and wonderful," she breathed, capturing his lips with her own.

When he finally managed to drag himself away, he spoke again. "What about the story?"

She kissed his neck as nimble fingers tugged his shirt out of his jeans. "I bet it's a pick-pocketing ring run by elves," she told him as she pushed his shirt up, exposing his torso to her gaze. "How on earth have you managed to keep this body hidden under those suits you wear?"

"The Suit doesn't hide much," he reminded her, uncomfortably. "And I don't think it's pick-pocketing elves."

"Then maybe it's the Mafia." She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her hands over his chest.

He glanced at the clock. Three-thirty. "It's late, Lois."

"Not too late for us, for happiness."

"Not until after the story, honey."

"You called me 'honey' again," she said kissing across his chest.

He groaned.

"Someday, I'm going to get my harem outfit out and do the dance of the seven veils for you again," she whispered before kissing him again.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around him as he walked to the bedroom.

Towards the bed.

He laid her down gently. "Are you sure about this?"

"I thought you weren't going to ask me that again," she said as she pulled him towards her. "But I know you didn't mean it."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, unable to resist the draw of that long, graceful neck as she inclined her head to one side and he moved to kiss and nibble along it until he reached her mouth again.

When he pulled back, she grinned up at him. "Because you're about to get very lucky."


It was two mornings later when Lois woke up with a screaming headache. She tried to open her eyes, but the light hurt.

She tried to roll over to get away from the sunshine, but she couldn't.

A solid presence behind her prevented movement.

She then became aware of sensations on her neck that were stirring something deep inside her.

"Clark?" she whispered.

"Yeah, honey?" he whispered back, one hand caressing her stomach.

"What are you doing?"

"What we've been doing for the last two days?" he said, the question in his voice as he stilled his lips on her shoulder.

"Two days?"

"Yeah," he answered warily.

"I don't remember much of the last two days then," she whispered. "I remember ordering French toast and..."

Clark flopped back onto the bed. "You don't remember anything else?"

She tried to think but it hurt too much. "Would you mind trying to get as much light out of here as you can?"

"Yeah." He sighed heavily and worked his way over to the window, pulling the heavy curtains closed and then over to the door to do the same.

Lois opened one eye slightly and then closed it tightly again when she realized he was in his birthday suit.

"Better?" he asked quietly.

She nodded and rolled towards him, being careful to keep the sheet firmly in place around her.

"And you don't remember anything?" He slipped back under the covers and propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand reaching out to caress her shoulder.

"Not nothing," she told him. "But not much. I think it's starting to come back a little bit." She closed her eyes tightly. "Did we make love on the ceiling?" Her head was starting to hurt a bit less as the memories slowly started to come back.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think that was the third time."


He nodded.

"Do I want to know how many time we... you know?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"

"Maybe later, but I take it it was more than three?"

He nodded.


"It was pretty 'wow' for me, anyway," he said quietly.

"I'm glad. I think."

He laid back down on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"What?" she asked when she realized he was obsessing about something.


"Don't lie to me, Clark. That's not a good way to start this marriage," she warned him.

He sighed. "I guess I just hoped that it would be a bit more..."

"More what?" she prompted when he didn't continue.

"Memorable," he finally said.

"Ah." She rested a hand on his arm. "I don't remember anything about the last two days. Or not much. It's not like it's been a couple years and I've forgotten it."


"I'm sure it was wonderful. Otherwise, why would we have kept doing it?" She frowned. "I thought we weren't going to do... that until after we got the story."

He shrugged. "I couldn't say no to you."

"What're you talking about? What happened?"

"We ordered your French toast and you ate while I read the paper and the next thing I knew, you had me pinned up against the wall with my shirt off and your cleavage all showing and..."

"And what?"

"You were kissing my chest," he mumbled. "You said you didn't want to wait anymore and, to be honest, at the point, I couldn't remember why we were."

She sighed. "Well, we better figure it out, because believe me... from what little I do remember, we're going to be doing a lot more of that soon."


"Did you call Perry?" Lois asked, sliding her arms around him and resting her cheek on his back.

"Yeah," he said, still leaning against the railing of their balcony.

"And all the bad guys are rounded up?"

"Superman helped with that."

"Superman's helped with a lot of things around here, hasn't he?" She ran one finger across his abdomen.

"Is it coming back to you at all?" he asked softly.

"Some. Bits and pieces. Apparently, I'm learning from first-hand experience what that pheromone laced food can do."

"I just wish I had recognized it for what it was."

"What are you talking about?" She kissed his back.

"We had almost the exact same conversation we had the first time around."

"We did?"


"Well, I don't really remember much of that either."

"You did promise to do the dance of the seven veils for me again."

She nibbled on his back a bit more. "Really?"


"Hmm... I still have the costume."

"You do?"

"Yep." She ran her hands over his stomach and up his chest until they rested on his arms. "Would you like that?"

"It about killed me the first time," he admitted.

"But this time you could do something about it," she reminded him. "You could go get it, you know." She ducked under his arm and insinuated herself into his embrace before kissing him softly on the lips. "And this time I'd remember every reaction." She kissed him again, more deeply.

"Where is it, exactly?" he asked hoarsely.

"Closet. Top shelf. White box," she told him as he kissed the crook of her neck.

"I'll be right back." In a blur he was gone.

"I'll be waiting," she whispered mere seconds before he returned, holding the box out to her. "That was fast. I hope you don't do everything that fast."

"You haven't complained so far," he told her as he took her into his arms again. "Have I told you how sexy you look in one of my shirts?"

She shook her head.

"Well, you do."

"Good." She took his hand and turned back towards their room.

"Um, Lois."

She turned back expectantly.

"There's something else you should know."

She moved back towards him, tracing an 's' on his chest. "Besides that?"

He nodded. "The other day? When you came on to me and we..." He swallowed hard. "...made love for the first time?"

"What about it?"

"Well, you should probably know..."

"Know what?" she asked, getting a bit impatient.

"I'd never actually done that before," he told her, biting his bottom lip.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Well, they say practice makes perfect."

"They do," he agreed.

"Well, flyboy. Let's get you some more practice." She turned again and pulled him back into their room. "And we're going to have to do that ceiling thing again."

Neither noticed the shooting star in the nighttime Hawaiian sky.