HEARTS & SHOWERS

"......and, *finally* - ta da!" Clark threw open the door and ushered his now giggling wife ahead of him and into the bright, airy room with all the enthusiasm of a realtor looking for his next sales commission. "The bedroom!"

He followed her in and stood in the middle of the empty space, spreading his arms wide to encompass all of its corners. "So......what'd you think?"

He turned his head to where Lois stood and his enthusiasm softened into a small smile as he watched her take in the large, neatly proportioned room. She drew in a deep breath.

"Oh, Clark......" she said, with a soft hitch in her voice, and then shook her head, pressing joined hands to her lips like a child overwhelmed by an unexpected gift. Clark found himself witness to something he'd rarely - if ever - seen. Lois Lane was lost for words.

"It's just......" she started again, looking around the sun-filled room delightedly. "It's just......perfect. It's all just perfect."

Clark watched, amused, as she threw out her arms, aping him of a moment earlier, and twirled in a slow pirouette, as though trying to embrace all of the room, all at once. Surrendering herself wholeheartedly to the slightly intoxicated, slightly delirious mood that had overtaken them as they'd explored the brownstone together.

Partly, Clark knew, it was for the fact that, once again, they'd defied fate; come through unscathed; looked it square in its bared teeth and hot, beady little eyes and whomped it firmly on the nose, bloodying it and sending it off howling to bother someone else awhile. But, mostly, it was just plain old honeymoon fever; a burst of emotional champagne bubbles sending them giddy as they shared one of the first milestones of their new life together - the exploration of their first home.

*Their* home.

Not his. Not hers. *Theirs*.

A small, quiet sigh escaped him and he fought the urge, not very successfully, to let the wide, slightly goofy grin, which had been almost permanently glued to his face in the past hour, loose again.

"It's so bright!" Lois exclaimed as she finally came to a halt. "The sun'll catch it first thing too." Her grin widened. "It'll wake us up real early."

"Mmmm-hmmmm. Gives us plenty of time to......fool around before we have to get up for work." He fixed her with an outrageously over-exaggerated and suggestive leer that made her giggle again, before she sobered, schooling her face to prim disapproval.

"Clark Jerome Kent! Is that all you think of these days?" she chided, throwing him a reproachful glance across her shoulder as she walked towards the French windows at the rear of the room. But her hips swung in seductive emphasis as she did, rather making a mockery of the protest.

"Hey, I'm a newly married man," Clark defended himself absently, his eyes glued appreciatively to those soft, rolling motions as he tracked her across the room. He glanced up again as she turned back to face him and grinned at her, unrepentant. "My hormone levels are still at the honeymoon stage."

Lois chuckled. "In Hawaii; lazing around the pool, soaking up the sights?" she suggested mischievously. "All those hot babes in micro bikinis......"

"Um......no. Actually, by now, they've gravitated back to their hotel room, a king-sized bed and a bucket of iced champagne," he told her. "And they're looking for company."

He moved across the room with the words, his dark eyes intent on hers all the way. Glided across the room, Lois thought, catching her breath slightly as she was pinned by the sudden glitter that had flickered into life in the deep, warm, chocolate brown eyes of her husband. Like many large, powerfully-built men, he moved with an unconscious grace, secure and panther-like in his own power - aware of it, yet unselfconscious - like some sleek animal: beautiful and threatening and primal.

And gentle, she thought, still slightly awed by that combination. There was such gentleness in him too.

Apart from which......she hid a grin......he was pretty darned cute.

Observing the soft kindling of desire that rose in his wife's eyes as she watched him move toward her, Clark smiled. He pulled her smoothly into his arms and slid his hands up across her back and onto her shoulders before he pushed them into her hair. His fingers splayed to frame her face, tilting it upward to meet the soft motions of his lips against hers as he claimed them with a warm, passionate familiarity; a gentle yet demanding caress which still had the power to take her by surprise as it sent sparks racing through her blood and leeched fire and heat into her bones. Meltdown......she thought distantly as she lost herself in the sensations of that kiss and let her hands flex lightly across her husband's muscular shoulders. Every time......

"Very special company," the husky murmur of his voice against the base of her jaw sent another sharp, electric thrill zapping through her. "Just one hot babe. And she's not wearing a micro bikini either."

"No?" she murmured, as she shivered a little in response to the slow fanning of his breath against her cheek and the soft, stirring movements of his hands at the nape of her neck and against her hair.

Dimly, in the far reaches of her mind where clarity still held out against the seductive tug of her libido, she felt herself linger, amused, over his compliment. Once - and not so long ago - Lois Lane would have broken most of the major bones on any man who had the temerity to call her a 'babe' - hot or otherwise. Strange, the difference falling in love made, she thought, amusement deepening. She guessed the difference came with security. She knew that her husband respected her: at all levels; viewed her as an equal: without reservation. And, knowing that, she could accept what she had once found a base, heinous insult to her modern, twentieth century feminine principles as a compliment. Accept it and find it set her heart ablaze; her senses spiraling; her thoughts dissolving into red-hot heat.

"Uh-uh," Clark went on, continuing his slow, sensual destruction of her will; smiling slightly against her skin as he heard her sigh gently in response to his caressing lips. "They're starting to think about that little green silk neglig E9e......the one......with the front cut *way* down low......"

He gilded the line of her jaw and cheekbone with a trail of those sweet and hot open-mouthed caresses, hands drifting onto her throat as she closed her eyes. "......and that cute little lace trim around the hem......" he went on, his breath tickling lightly against her ear now as his voice dropped a couple of octaves to a deep, husky, baritone rumble. "That just keeps on making me think how good it'd feel to be where it is......the way it strokes across your thighs as you move......"

His hands matched actions to words as his voice slid, silken, across the soft arch of her neck. His fingertips barely touched the outside of her thighs, skimming a light, provocative trail just beneath the hem of her skirt. Slowly...... Back and forth...... In a way that drove her crazy with need, longing for that touch to linger......higher......

Lois moaned quietly and nuzzled the tip of her nose across the firm line of his jaw, inhaling the faint, fresh tang of his cologne. The quick tic of muscle that followed her questing route was testament to her husband's growing arousal as her own hands took off in soft exploration of his taut back, smoothing their way across the cotton shirt. Then she paused. She slipped her palm up to press against the side of his neck for balance as she hitched herself closer against him.

"Where it is, is back at your apartment," she whispered silkily before darting the tip of a wandering tongue into the shell of his ear. She smiled as she felt him quiver and his answering grin tickled against her cheek.

"Yeah......" he agreed and it sounded like a question as his hands wandered a path upward to lay at her waist, pulling her up closer against him as he busied himself exploring her throat and earlobe with his lips.

Lois eased herself back a little, putting an inch or so of space between them as she broke clear of his heated embrace. She reached up to tug the edges of his shirt collar neatly into place, adjusting them by a miniscule inch, the distraction enabling her to force her breathing under control again, as he looked down at her, curiously. His thumbs stroked small circles against her ribs through the cotton vest top she wore. It tickled slightly. It felt......wonderful. And it made resisting him all the more difficult.

Taking a hard breath, Lois smiled up into his face and patted him tenderly against one cheek as she pecked a light kiss on the cleft of his chin.

"And we're not," she told him, sweetly, before stepping back and out of his enclosing arms. "And the realtor's office closes in just over an hour and three quarters. And we have just so *much* to do still, before we return those keys. Do you think blue would suit these walls?" she added, running an examining eye across the picture rail.

Clark sighed heavily. "Blue." He followed the direction of her gaze and then grimaced. "Blue's......not a color I want to think about right now," he said, surreptitiously reaching to adjust the fit of his pants.

Lois gave him a sly sideways glance from the edge of her eye and then lifted a brow at him. "Painful subject?" she asked innocently.

"Let's just say it has......uncomfortable associations."

"Hmmmmm," was Lois' only comment as she went back to her study of the walls. "You know, the hardest thing about decorating, I've always thought, is choosing just the right shade. Don't you find?" she added, turning back to look at him. "I mean colors are fine. You just pick what you want. But, the shade......"

She moved back towards him, tucking the fingers of one hand casually into the waistband of his pants as she came close. "......that's the difficult bit." The pad of her thumb pressed against the top of his zipper.

"It is?" Clark said hoarsely, glancing down to watch those fingers and willing them to move as he held his breath a little; or, at the very least, for that pressure to increase. Just an inch further would do it. Half an inch even...... He recognized the teasing lilt in his wife's voice now, enough to know that color schemes were the last thing on her mind - even if those gently flexing fingers hadn't given him enough of a hint - but he wasn't entirely following her train of thought.

"Sure. They do say that coordination is in though."

"Co......ordination," Clark repeated and barely suppressed a groan as her fingers obeyed his silent urging and began to stroke their way lazily across the crotch of his pants. They both watched their progress, seemingly equally fascinated: Clark by the path they were taking across the straining ridge twitching against his thigh and Lois by that twitch, which grew distinctly more pronounced as she trailed her fingers ever downward. Clark bit down hard on a moan.

"Uh-huh. So, you know, maybe" Lois said huskily, licking fitfully at her lower lip, "......if......some of you......" Her nails raked lightly at the bulge beneath her fingers, tracing the line of his fly and he jerked slightly, wincing. "......is......um......blue......" Lois went on, her voice slightly more breathy now and smiling at his low growl, "......I should, you know, check it out. For a color match. Maybe......" She stroked a light path back up the soft woolmix material to the snap catch at his waist. "I might find just the right shade to inspire me......"

"Inspire......" Clark nodded quickly, having finally managed to track his way muzzily back to the point of the conversation from where his thoughts had scattered into the red oblivion in his head. A pulsing wash of color and light that held nothing in it but the touch of her fingers on him and the skittering jolts of pleasure they were surging through him in small, throbbing waves. All that the world had become.

He held back a small breath as she popped the catch under her fingers with an infuriating lack of urgency. "Right. Um......hang on." He recovered some of his salivating thoughts and put a hand over hers, stilling her as she began to work at the zipper. "That would mean you intend to keep......those parts of me......blue......" he suggested, with an upward twitch of one brow.

Lois chuckled, a throaty husk of a sound that sent a rough frisson of heat scurrying down through him and caused another reflexive twitch in the bulge hardening ever more firmly, growing restive and eager, between his thighs.

"Well, maybe blue's not the ideal choice," Lois agreed. She wiggled the tips of her fingers in his grip and he groaned, taking the hint and letting her proceed.

"Maybe," she whispered softly, as she eased the zipper downwards, slipped her questing hand beneath the waistband of his briefs and stretched up to kiss him firmly, "we should be......thinking......pink...... instead......"

Clark moaned out a deep breath as he felt her enclose him coolly, a soothing balm against the pulsing heat in his groin, and tasted the heat of her lips as they moved sweetly on his. Ice and fire.

His hands moved, one attempting to capture hers and guide it more firmly where he desperately needed it to be, the other trying to hook blindly at the back of her neck and pull her deeper into their kiss, and then she was gone.

Confused, he opened his eyes and found her slipping gracefully to her knees before him.

"Besides," she said softly, as her hands set themselves gently to undoing the zipper all the way. "We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, would we? Not here. In our new home. That wouldn't be a very good start at all. Bad omen."

Clark closed his eyes again, letting her voice wash over him, letting himself relax as he felt her hands work to tug him free of his constrictive clothing. Cool air brushed at the heated length of his shaft as it bounced slightly against his lower belly, freed from its confinement. He sighed softly, a small, relieved breath that tightened in his throat as her cooler touch came back to cradle him, sending a rough shiver jolting through his spine and directly into the tips of her fingers as they caressed him lightly, alternating pressure as they worked their way along his swollen length.

Another rough moan escaped him as his hands rested on her shoulders, flexing gently against the cotton of her top, encouraging her in the only way he could, his voice deserting him; his ability to think, to talk, lost in the sensations rippling through his large, muscular frame.

"Sssshh, baby," Lois crooned, her hands continuing their gentle stroking, back and forth, slow and fast, before he felt the soft, tantalizing flutter of her lips briefly touch the tip of his arousal. A deep, guttural sound of appreciation welled up from the depths of his throat.

"Aaahhhh......Lois......"

He heard her sigh. She kissed him delicately and then closed her eyes, laying her cheek to the ridged muscle of the shaft pulsing hard in her hands. She nuzzled up against him, rubbing lightly against the taut flexing of heated skin against hers, reveling in its softness and the rhythmic, rapid beat of blood beneath that silken sheath. A low, choking sound came from above her and she paused, drew back a little to look up into her husband's clouded eyes. Her own gleamed as she smiled.

"I just wanted to explore him some," she said. "I mean......that's what we're here for, right? Exploring? New territory?"

There was a muffled grunt that may or may not have been agreement. It was all Clark was capable of voicing at that particular moment as her fingers continued to linger lightly against his shaft and she went back to stroking her way across its thickly throbbing length in a slow, sultry caress.

"Well......" Lois reconsidered breathily. "*Almost* new territory."

Her words sent a shudder of anticipation thrilling through him as they sparked off images - bright as fire and burning twice as hot, like a flood of liquid lava in his mind. Tantalizing mind pictures of all the other explorations they'd enjoyed together over the past few days and weeks.

His hands fell against her hair, stroking at its softness in an accompanying rhythm to her continuing slow glide of skin on skin. He shifted his feet, widening his stance a little as her lips began to caress him in tandem with the soft motions of her fingers.

"You know......he's not blue......at all......" he heard her murmur and that was the last thing she said for some time as she closed her teeth lightly on the soft skin at his engorged tip. She tugged delicately before setting her lips to soothing him, letting her tongue skim over him; barely a whisper of a touch. She drew the tip of him in between her lips, her tongue probing at him, tasting the first beads of moisture that had begun to form there; heady and intoxicating as wine. Clark twitched in her hands, his hips lifting restlessly a little, and she gave up teasing as she heard him whimper quietly, his hands in her hair fisting convulsively, though never enough to hurt.

She glanced upward. His head was thrown slightly back, his eyes closed tight, jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck corded taut as wire. Lois took pity on him.

Clark sighed gently, some of his tension leeching from him, as he felt her lips slide slickly down his length, taking him little by little into the moist, warm haven of her mouth. She withdrew, then slowly inhaled him again, repeating the motion as she let the fingers not holding him skitter down across the swollen, pulsing length of his shaft to the base of his arousal, where she played them teasingly through the coarse curls, stroking and circling, before moving on. She cupped at the hard, tautly swollen sacs, squeezing gently and rubbed a light trail across the especially sensitive skin beneath them. Clark bucked hard against her and she opened her mouth in the same instant, letting his slow, forward thrust drive him fully into her warmth again.

"Lois......" he whispered, opening his eyes and watching her pleasure him. He moved his hips, slowly and sensuously, pushing gently into her and retreating; repeating the motion as she tasted him. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, lost in her own world as she rocked gently over him. He was a little disappointed that she was still fully clothed. He loved to watch the minute changes in her body as they made love, fascinated to see her own arousal in the stain of pink that flushed her skin; the way the soft, rosy tips of her breasts darkened and grew hard, eager for his touch; the faint sheen of oiled sweat glistening on her.

She was so beautiful......

Clark frowned a little. His glasses had been left downstairs, along with their jackets, as they're wandered through their new home, exploring. A small smile tugged at his lips as he activated his X-ray vision, granted himself his fantasy, and enjoyed the view a time, before he closed his eyes again, giving himself over fully to the sensations of his wife's lips working warmly and seductively against the hot pulse of his arousal.

He felt the familiar tightening begin to build exquisitely, deep down in the pit of his belly and traveling into his groin, and knew she sensed how near he was too, her motions speeding up slightly in response. Her hands shifted, sliding up along his thighs and onto the firm muscled curves of his buttocks, kneading and squeezing, sending flares of white-hot heat speeding through him like shooting stars to the tips of his fingers and into his skull, where they burst into bright strobes of color and heat behind the closed screen of his eyes. He could feel his toes curl and then, all at once, so sudden it took him unawares, a pulse tore through him, traveling from the base of his shaft and outward and he lost himself in the flow of liquid heat that coursed from him. A sharp, rising cry of blissful release spilled from his throat as he let his head fall back and poured himself into her.

He felt her lapping at his offering, drawing everything she could from him, her throat rippling as she swallowed the salt taste of him until he was spent.

Lois let the taste and heat of him linger before she opened her eyes and reluctantly pulled herself clear. As always, she felt a small flicker of loss settle itself cold in her belly as she withdrew from the connection between them.

Clark shuddered, a low ripple of pleasure that surged through him, as he felt himself slip from her warmth into the cooler air of the room.

Lois held him gently between her palms, wondering as always over the fact that he was still hard in her hands, although the urgent beat of blood and pulsing heat seemed soothed, dampened down into nothing more than a flicker of desire, a readiness beating somnambulant and slow, now that his passion was spent, rather than a rushing need to slake his desire in her. Though she had few doubts - as recent experience had proven to her - that it would take little to rouse him to that fire again.

She kept her motions soft and lazy, calculated to soothe him down further, as she let her tongue swirl around his tip and along his slightly softened length, mopping up each last drop of his essence, diligently and lovingly, before she released him.

A last, lingering caress of her lips and then she settled back on her heels, her fingers reaching to adjust his disordered clothing.

Clark reached down before she could fasten up his pants, taking her face in his hands and pulling her smoothly to stand. His arm encircled her waist, his free hand settling against the nape of her neck as he drew her in for a lazy kiss. He let his fingers drift down her spine, spreading at the hollow of her back to hold her in place, allowing the arm steadying her to withdraw as he finished zipping up while continuing that heady, intoxicating exploration of her lips. Their kiss turned slow and soft, their tongues probing, dueling, thrusting and entwining, as they gave themselves over to the hedonism of the moment.

He shifted a little when he was through with his repairs, netting his fingers at the base of her spine. Lois responded in kind, slipping her arms through his and clasping them loose against the small of his back. Thus gently entwined, Clark rested his cheek against hers, rocking her softly in his embrace. After a time, he began to hum softly under his breath, as though they were indulging in a slow dance to music only he heard.

Moonglow......

Lois smiled and brought her arms up around his neck, completing the illusion. She felt him smile against her hair and heard his quiet sigh as he nuzzled for a moment among its sweet smelling strands.

"Where have you gone to now?" she murmured, amused, as she tightened her clasp around his neck and let her body press more firmly against his, giving herself over to the subtle sway of their bodies.

Clark chuckled, low and soft against her skin, as his hands moved in slow circles across her back and shoulders. "Tuesday evening. Bak kut teh. Achat. Char kwa teow. Chilled Rum Thai Punch......"

His gentle swaying became a little more pronounced as he filled himself with the memory and Lois smiled again, closing her eyes and nestling closer. Tuesday evening. He'd flown off mysteriously on a quest for dinner, fending off her curious questions and leaving her only with the promise that he was sure she'd like what he surprised her with. The surprise had turned out to be her first introduction to the fiery cuisine of his favorite Thai region.

He had been right too. It had all been delicious and she'd enjoyed sampling the various little dishes with him, happy to let him get pleasure in introducing her to this delicacy and recommending that spicy morsel, offering up tradition and custom and Thai lore with each bite. It was considered poor manners by Thai custom, he'd said, eyes twinkling as they fleetingly considered dessert, to hoard; polite to share every dish on the table. He had explained the names of each dish to her, where he'd known them, which had been more often than not, and answered her fascinated questions with an easy respect and deep affection for the culture he was sharing with her which infected her with its enthusiasm and charmed her entirely. His eyes had lit up like a little kid's, sharing with her. As though he was offering up buried treasure. Or a long-held, private secret. She supposed, in many ways, he was doing just that.

There had been candlelight on the shadowed terrace and soft playing ballads on the CD player. A cool drifting night breeze......and that Rum Thai Punch of course. Sweet and heady and guaranteed to mellow the mood. Or her mood at least, since it affected her superhero not one jot. But then Clark maintained when she'd complained a little, teasingly, about the unfairness of that, that all he ever needed to mellow his mood was the company of his wife.

He'd regaled her with stories of his travels in Thailand and elsewhere as they ate, each little tidbit coming with anecdote attached as an enthralling added extra. Pouring them both another generous helping of the thick, spicy beverage and handing over her glass, he'd asked if she was aware that rum was the Thai word for dance. He'd accompanied the question with one of those smiles across the candlelit table that lit up the room for Lois like a blaze of fireworks and set her heart to jitterbugging madly against the walls of her chest. She'd wondered for a moment if the Thai had a word for that too, before she'd suggested, with a bright laugh, that the question was really a hint in disguise.

Clark had taken her at her word, putting out his hand and retrieving the glass before setting it to the table between them. He'd reached out and drawn her to her feet as she'd settled her hand into his steady, offered grasp and they'd drifted for an hour or more, snuggled close in each others' arms and hearing nothing but the steady, flickering beat of their hearts, entwined and dancing as one.

"......Belgium chocolate......" Clark continued and then he moved suddenly, surprising a small squeak from her as he whirled them both around expertly and then dipped her deep against his supporting arm. "Billie Holiday crooning on the CD......" he said with a grin as he leaned over her and then brought her back up smoothly and into his embrace, grin fading as his eyes grew solemn and heavy on hers.

"You in my arms......and moonlight in your hair......" he said softly before his lips found hers again, lingering over the caress. He drew back a little to gaze into her eyes and then his hands pushed themselves deep into her hair and his lips pressed themselves up against hers again, hard and fierce this time, forcing entry into the slick inner surfaces of her mouth and setting her on fire.

"Lois......" he said as he eased away from her at last. He stroked a finger across her cheek as she looked up at him, attentive, although her eyes were slightly hazed.

"Yes......?" she said softly.

"I think it's only fair to tell you that......unless you're wearing it?......I hate pink."

Lois blinked and then, brought back to the empty, echoing confines of the bedroom and out of the warm and dreamy memories where his words and his kiss had taken her, began to softly chuckle. She tightened her grip around his neck and rubbed noses with him. "How about yellow?" she suggested.

"Works for me," he agreed, kissing her gently again and then letting her go.

"Or maybe green......" Lois considered as she looked around her, going back to her interrupted study, mentally measuring corners and spaces, plotting out dimensions, her mind already populating the room with a collection of furniture: new and old, his and hers......

<Ours.

She felt a familiar, spreading warmth fill her as that small, inner voice spoke up. She'd never had anything that could be tagged 'ours' before.

She cast a small glance back at her husband. One more thing he'd given her. One more thing to love him for.

"Whatever you want, honey," he said, giving her a smile. "Suits me just fine." The smile became a slightly wicked grin. "You can model that neglig E9e for me again when we get back to the apartment - maybe that shade will look as good on the walls in here as it does on you. Then you could wear it all the time and we'd really be 'coordinated'."

Lois laughed as he winked at her and then wandered over to the other side of the room, hands tucked easily into the pockets of his pants. He reached up on tiptoe and then eased himself up higher to float a few inches shy of the floor. A move which enabled him to run a soft finger across the windowsill of the high up, narrow window beside the door and then inspect the digit with a grimace for dust. A low surge of love swelled up in Lois' heart as she watched him. So all encompassing, all at once, that she almost felt it would shatter and burst apart under the weight of that emotion.

Sudden tears welled in her eyes. Forcing them back before they could escape her, she turned quickly away, setting her back to Clark and pretending great interest in inspecting the French windows as she ran a hand over the frame of one of their panes.

<This is *so* dumb! she scolded herself fiercely. <You're not supposed to cry because you're happy! Where's the sense in *that*?

She snuffled slightly and brushed a quick, surreptitious hand across her cheek, before folding her arms hard beneath her breasts. She stared blindly out of the window, the outside world a sudden blur.

"Lois?" Clark's questioning voice came from almost directly behind her.

She cleared her throat, put her hand to the frame again and became more intent on examining the wood grain beneath her fingers, inspecting it for minute flaws. "Mmmmm-hmmmm?" she managed to fake an absent, barely listening tone, though she was suddenly very much aware of him at her back; knew he was watching her; could see clearly the faintly curious, perhaps concerned expression which she knew so well. Her heartbeat picked up, hitching just a little faster.

"You okay?"

She heard him start to move towards her and she jerked around, pasting a bright smile to her lips as she faced him. She couldn't deal with his trying to soothe her, not right now. She knew that the tears stinging at the back of her eyes would surely overwhelm her if he took her into his arms. And she wasn't going to cry. She just *wasn't*. Not when everything had been so good......the last few hours so perfect......

"Sure. I'm fine."

Clark frowned and she brightened her expression, just a notch; long practice at snow-blinding felons, megalomaniac master criminals and Government officials coming to her rescue, as he didn't look convinced. She shrugged. "It's just......all a little......overwhelming."

He nodded, seeming to understand that. He looked a little relieved as he gave her a small smile and held up his fingers in a Boy Scout salute. "I swear," he said brightly. "There isn't an oak tree in sight. Not for at least five miles in every direction. I checked." He glanced across her shoulder, out into the terrace. "There *is* room out there for a barbecue, but I figure we can work round that. Oh, and Mrs. Bellconta lives in Palm Springs now, with a maid, her elderly companion, and three poodles. I ran a trace on her at the Planet. So," he spread his hands, grin widening. "You don't have to worry about *her* luring me into temptation either. Besides, you know I don't go for older women."

"Oak tree?" Lois said, puzzled momentarily out of her threatening tears.

He tilted his head to regard her. "Yeah. You were worried you might turn into one. Remember? When you put down roots......?" he elaborated, when she continued to look blank.

"Oh," Lois said. "Yeah," she added distantly. "Right." Had it only been a few weeks since they'd had that conversation? Somehow, it seemed like years. Almost as though they'd packed a whole lifetime into those few short days.

He'd gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick entirely and it hadn't been what she'd been thinking about, but now that he'd reminded her of that conversation, of her fears about marriage and settling down, she was reminded too of the panic she'd felt then. Of the darkening sense that there was disaster looming, stormclouds threatening, and now, as then, she felt the sudden, sure certainty that she wasn't going to be able to do this reach out and seize hold of her.

It seemed to settle all at once like a rock, rough and hard, in the center of her chest and she felt her previously happy and contented mood deflate as though some malevolent hand had reached out and pricked her dreams into bursting like a shredded balloon. How could she do this? The last two weeks with Clark had been wonderful. Beyond all of her expectations - and those had been pretty high to begin with. She had never had any doubts that he loved her. She only had to look into his eyes to see herself, reflected deep in the soul they harbored in their toffee colored depths and entwined tight and fast around his heart. But these past two weeks had made her understand, truly understand for perhaps the first time, just how brightly shining his love for her was. How it pulsed deep in him, eclipsing her like the moon darkened the sun, enfolding her in its warmth, caressing her with its calm. A steady flicker of flame. Enduring and unassailable.

But now, she seemed to know beyond doubt that this happiness was nothing more than a temporary lull in the midst of the approaching hurricane. How could she keep this man happy for weeks......months......years? How long would it be before he grew tired and bored, like her father had with her mother......with all of them......and began looking for other ......entertainment? How long before she lost him? As she lost all else that mattered in her life. Just as she always had.

"Hey - " Clark said, his grin fading as he watched that sudden dip in her mood chase its shadow across her face and tracked the faint, hard to catch flash of weary fear as it darkened in her eyes. "Honey - "

He started towards her, eyes sympathetic. Lois fumbled hastily for the door handle behind her, pushed the doors ajar and backed through them slightly, onto the terrace. "I need a little air. I'll go take a look around out here," she said quickly, diverting him.

Clark's frown deepened. "Lois - " he said, firmly, taking another step forward and then, faintly from downstairs, came the low, pleasing chime of the doorbell. Clark turned his head and then came back to her. "I should go answer that," he said, after a slight hesitation.

He seemed to be almost hoping for a disagreement from her, an invitation to stay, but Lois simply nodded and walked out into the stark, gray blockstone of the little terrace without looking back. When she did turn her head to glance warily across her shoulder, he had gone. She sighed, relief tinged with a little regret.

Sitting on the wide, low wall at the far end of the terrace, she was surprised by how quiet and peaceful it was. Despite the traffic down below and the bustling of neighborhood stores and caf E9s, very little sound reached her up here. The house itself had been quiet, she realized now, thinking on it and the noise level, even out here, was muted. She could faintly hear the murmur of voices down below her, but couldn't make out the conversation, though she recognized Clark's familiar light tone.

Lois closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool, light breeze that played among her hair and drifted soft fingers across her face. Collectively, the scents of their new neighborhood assaulted her senses: warm coffee and cinnamon from the caf E9 down the street; the wet, earthy smell of trees from the park close by after the light drizzling rain that had cleared only recently......and......lavender......?

She opened her eyes and found the culprit dancing merrily before her in the gentle current of air. Where it had come from was a mystery; it obviously hadn't been planted there by design. But, somehow, the small plant had taken root in a crack between the low wall on which she sat and the blockstone border that banded the terrace and was looking to be thriving in its new home. Lois reached out a soft hand, touching the tips of her fingers lightly to the waving spikes of purple flowers, somehow touched, both by her unexpected companion's tenacity and its resilience. Somehow, it seemed like a good omen. If this little wanderer could find a new home - succeed and grow - in this strange and unfamiliar new soil, then so could Lois Lane.

*****

She was still out there when Clark returned some twenty minutes or so later. He'd actually finished with the doorstep caller after only a few of those. Somehow though, he'd gotten the impression that he wouldn't be welcome back upstairs for a time, so he'd gone searching with his xray vision in the attic crawlspace instead, for any telltale signs of dry rot or damp. Giving his wife time to think herself out and regain her composure, before he returned.

Moving quietly through the bedroom, he leaned up against the frame of the open windows and watched her for a moment as she sat on the low wall at the terrace end.

She looked so pensive, her eyes fixed distantly on the buildings opposite, that he wondered what she was thinking about. What she *had* been thinking about to change her mood so rapidly. He sighed. With Lois, you never could tell. He supposed he should have expected the bubble to burst though. He'd been slightly overwhelmed by just how well his surprise had gone in the first place. He'd expected it would require a full and wildly enthusiastic tour of the property before she really bought into the excitement he felt for the brownstone. He knew that he *could* infect her with it, given time, but he'd anticipated having to work at it some before he succeeded. What he hadn't counted on was the wholehearted, complete approval with which Lois had greeted his news in the first place.

He had hoped she would be pleased, she had seemed impressed with the house when they'd visited it to interview Professor Dootson. Not that that meant anything, he knew. He'd remembered a previous conversation where Lois hadn't been pleased at all by his suggesting they purchase a house she had declared just perfect only hours previously. Apparently, what he had failed to consider then was that 'perfect' didn't necessarily mean perfect for them.

The townhouse *was* perfect for them though. Clark wasn't overly superstitious, but he did, firmly, believe in fate - now that he and Lois were finally together, how could he not? - and the fact that this property came complete with its own secret compartment seemed like a pretty good sign that it had been waiting for them to him.

But he'd been apprehensive that Lois wouldn't see it his way. He had been a little concerned too that she would object to his having made the decision alone, without waiting to consult with her, and none too confident that the fact that time was of the essence, real estate in the heart of the city in short supply, and that they didn't want to get beaten to the wire, would hold up as an adequate defense on that one. Lois didn't always accept logic as a good enough excuse when she was mad.

But Lois had - as ever - surprised him with her immediate child-like enthusiasm and her unconditional delight in his 'surprise'.

Until now, he corrected himself, his gaze drifting to the far end of the terrace again. He didn't know what had changed her mood or why she was suddenly this unhappy, but he wanted to find out. He knew, however, that Lois in this mood was never going to give up the information by the direct route. Diversionary tactics were called for. He cleared his throat and stepped out onto the terrace.

It was slightly cool out here and the plain, unremitting gray of the blockformed walls and flagged stones didn't encourage the imagination.

"I know this doesn't look like much, right now," he said, glancing around him. "But it really won't take a lot to turn it around."

"Huh?" Lois turned her head and then followed his gaze around the stark, gray walled enclosure. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it'll be just fine," she agreed, frowning absently.

He paused, then went on heartily, "You know I could put some decorative panel fencing up along the wall, or this side of it anyway, and that'd give us some shade to put out a table and chairs. It'll be a real sun trap through the day and cool in the evening."

Lois nodded, her eyes fixed on the view again.

"There isn't a lot of soil around, apart from that little corner bed there, and the plots to the side here, but that doesn't matter. We can put in lots of things in pots and cover the fencing with ramblers and it'll look great when everything blooms."

"Sure," Lois murmured.

Clark paused again. "And we've probably got just about enough room in the middle here to dig out an eight foot pond to dump your fish in......"

"Okay......"

He grinned and walked across the terrace, watching the flagged stones as he went, spreading his hands across the air above them, as though planning and measuring in his mind's eye. "We could put in some piranha maybe."

"That's a good idea......"

"Squid. Octopus. Baby hammerhead shark......?"

"Mmmmmm. That'll be just - what?" Her head swiveled to view him and she looked sheepish all at once as he grinned at her. "Sorry. I was just......thinking."

He tilted his head. "About?" he asked quietly, the teasing lilt suddenly gone.

Lois looked away again, chewing at her lower lip. "Clark," she said after a moment. "Should we be enjoying this?"

He gave her a solemn look. "This isn't one of those 'heavy fist of fate waiting to pound us just as soon as we get happy' questions, is it?"

"No. But, it's just - well, you know. We put Vita Dootson in jail and next thing you know we're stealing her apartment. Hardly before she's had time to ask her new cellmate if she reads Gertrude Stein."

"Honey. First of all, we didn't *steal* anything. Vita Dootson isn't going to be looking for real estate any time soon. And second, it was never really her apartment anyway. She only leased it and the lease was up in another month or two. Granted, she probably would have negotiated another lease, but that's nothing to do with us. Or with our decision to buy a house that was coming on the market shortly anyway. I told you - the owner nullified the lease. Knocked it down to a bargain price too. I think he was real keen to get it off his hands. And if we hadn't bought it, someone else would. You like the house, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do. I love it."

"Then be happy in it, sweetheart. You deserve it."

She smiled, just a little. "It is beautiful," she said.

Clark viewed her consideringly. "But?"

She shook her head. "If it was just for us, then I'd say, 'Fine! Great! Let's buy!'"

"It is just for us," he said, puzzled. "Who else were you going to invite?" His expression turned to one of mock horror. "You weren't thinking of moving in your Mom were you?"

Lois sighed. "No."

His troubled expression deepened. "Your father?"

She gave him a 'don't tease, this is serious' look and left her perch. He watched her approach and she moved close to place her hands flat against his chest. His expression had turned just a little concerned now. He moved his own hands up to cover hers, squeezing slightly. Lois looked down at those strong, reassuring fingers entwined in her own as she said, "It's not just for us. It's for Superman too."

"Oh. Is that all?" His grin came back and he let go her hands to wrap his fingers lightly around her upper arms, pulling her in close as he pressed light lips to her forehead. "You were starting to worry me there for a moment," he confided. And then, "Honey, trust me, Superman loves this house to bits."

"I know he does. I do too and there's nothing I'd like better than to stay here, with you, but, sweetheart, it's too......" she turned her head and waved a hand in the direction of the buildings opposite, "overlooked. It's not like your apartment. You know, I've been giving it a lot of thought......" She began tracing small circles against his shirt with one finger, suddenly intent on the pattern as she made it. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, staying on at your place. I don't need half the stuff I brought on over from mine, we could get rid of most of it, and it would be real cozy, just the two of us, and - "

"Lois, you threatened divorce papers on me last week when I suggested throwing out five years worth of back copies of US FEMALE magazine! Now you want to throw out half your things?"

Lois shrugged. Clark put a gentle hand under her chin and tilted it up to look into her eyes. "Sweetheart, this isn't a problem. I can - "

"But there's nowhere you can come and go here, Clark. And we'll never find anywhere as private as your apartment, no matter how long we -- "

"We'll figure something out." He smiled down at her. "I've spent most of my life working at keeping my powers secret, honey. I'm not about to start blowing it now just because we have windows that face the street. We'll just have to be a little more careful than we would at the apartment, that's all." His thumb stroked a soft path across her lips. "So......?"

"So......?" she repeated quietly.

"Say yes."

She softened. "Yes."

Clark nodded. "Good. It would've gotten awful lonely living here all by myself. And the commuting over to my apartment and back every night......" He made a displeased face.

Lois smiled.

He smiled back. "So," he said, mock serious, as he held out a hand. "Am I gonna show around our new bedroom now?"

Lois' smile widened. "Show me our new bedroom," she told him, as she took the offered hand and let him tug her after him. He snaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his side, giving her an affectionate squeeze and dropping a light kiss against her hair as he led her back across the terrace.

"Who was at the door?" Lois asked, remembering suddenly.

"Huh? Oh - " He gestured vaguely behind him. "Some kid looking for payment on the newspaper account."

"Oh." She nodded. "Well, that's a good thing. Saves us a trip to the store."

"Um......yeah." Clark let her go and quickened his step a little, drawing ahead as they entered the bedroom.

Lois watched him go. "Clark?" she asked and when he ignored her, feigning a sudden attack of deafness, "You did give him the address of Vita Dootson's lawyer, didn't you?"

"Uh - " He made a show of studying the wall nearest to him for cracks.

"Clark?"

He sighed. "Not exactly," he confessed.

Lois took that in. Then, "You paid Vita Dootson's *paper bill*?"

"Well......he was just a kid, Lois. He doesn't get his commission if he doesn't take back the cash and going through that lawyer will take weeks to pay off the account......months even......and -- "

Lois set her hands to her hips. "Well, Clark, it wasn't as though he wasn't going to face one of life's great disappointments *anyway*. He is losing a sale after all. What was one more little black cloud in his day?" she pointed out and then raised a sharp brow as her husband's air of guilt deepened noticeably with the objection. "Clark?" she asked dangerously. "You *did* cancel the account?"

"Well......I just didn't have the heart to - "

"You didn't stop the account?"

"He was saving up to buy his little sister - "

"A heart operation?"

"A puppy," Clark countered sheepishly in the face of that caustic interruption. "She's recovering at home after she fell out of a tree and broke her leg and he wanted to cheer her up since she can't be out playing with her friends. He thought she could play with the puppy instead. Till she got better."

Lois stared at him. He'd actually *fallen* for that? Unbelievable! She shook her head and then heaved a put upon sigh. "Clark......" she protested, exasperated. "It's not enough that we work at the Planet and you still buy a copy of the morning edition on the way into the office each day? Now, you're getting it delivered too?!"

"Um......well, not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"Vita Dootson wasn't really a Planet reader, it seems."

Lois paused. "So, she was -- ?"

"Ah."

"Ah?" Lois said. Her eyes widened slightly. "You're having the STAR delivered to our home?! The STAR! That rag!"

"Well, only this week," Clark defended himself hastily. "We can change the order - "

"To what?! Clark, we don't *need* - "

"Well, you know, maybe a delivery *would* come in handy, Lois. There's my flying magazine and your LITERARY GUIDE, MODERN MZ. MAGAZINE, METROPOLITAN and - "

"And what about Mr. Bailey?" Lois demanded.

"Mr. Bailey? Bailey's News Stand? At the Planet?"

"Yeah! You're going to take all that business away from him? You're going to stab him in the back after all the service he's given us? He's a small businessman, Clark. He needs the money. He *relies* on our business. It's his livelihood you're playing with here! He has a wife and four kids to support," she added, folding her arms and knowing she was playing dirty now.

Clark actually looked worried by the accusation that he might deprive Bailey and his family of much needed revenue by switching his allegiance to doorstep delivery. Lois sighed again. Clark Kent - Eternal Boy Scout. The guy who worried about everyone.

Her annoyance faded with the thought and she unexpectedly found herself fighting a smile. *Her* Boy Scout.

"What?" Clark said, giving her his patented hurt and wounded look as the smile worked its way loose despite her. She shook her head. "Nothing," she said, slipping an arm around his waist and kissing him lightly against one cheek as he looked back at her, puzzled by this reprieve.

"What am I gonna do with you?" she said and his expression immediately brightened.

"Well, I've got a few ideas," he said, hooking her around the waist with both hands and tugging her up against him. "If you're looking for suggestions." He burrowed at the side of her throat and she giggled before pushing him away.

"I think I can guess. Does one of them involve the closet downstairs?" she teased, dancing back a few steps to gain distance on him as she recalled some earlier, heated groping.

"You have carnal designs on the closet downstairs?" Clark said, looking surprised and seeming to have a memory lapse over just who had pulled who into that closet in the first place. "Lois, I'm shocked." He sighed heavily and then shrugged. "Still......if that's what you *really* want......"

"Ah-ah," she shook her head as he reached for her again. "Right now, what *I* really want is the rest of this tour."

"Oh," he said, stopped in his tracks. He sighed again, for real this time, and then took her at her word.

"Okay......so what'd you want to check out first? Oh, I know - look! Closets! Big closets! With sliding doors!" He grinned at her as he darted over to the far side of the room. He slid said doors wide, waving a hand over them.

Lois gave him a suspicious look and then moved up beside him to duck her head into the space. Clark noted that she kept her weight light on her toes, as though readying herself to skip back out of reach if he made a grab for her. He grinned and wandered out into the middle of the room, leaving her to populate the closet with imaginary clothes in peace.

"I think we should be minimalist in our choice of furniture for this room," he said thoughtfully. "Keep it light. And you know, I was thinking, this high window over here, this ledge, would be just perfect for that collection of African statues I've got. You'd be able to see them through the glass from the other side and with the light in here behind them, they'll look just great!"

Lois took her head back out of the closet and turned to look at him as he stood staring at the window in question, hands on hips and a satisfied expression on his face.

"Not those statues you've got on the bookcase next to the staircase?" she said, tentatively.

"Yeah - " he turned back and then, catching the expression on her face, his fell. "No?" He turned back to survey the window, looking disappointed now.

"Well, maybe." Lois came up to stand next to him, putting a hand to his arm and brushing it up and down his sleeve in a soothing stroke. "Or maybe not. Well, I just don't think it'd work," she said as he glanced at her. "I mean, I'm sure we'll find the *perfect* spot for those statues. Honestly, sweetheart. I just don't think that's it."

Clark grunted. The 'perfect' spot had yet to be found for most of his collection of artifacts collected from his travels around the world. Nowhere else that he had thought was right for them had met with Lois' approval. He sighed. He had the strong suspicion that half of his life was about to be consigned to storage in the attic, never to see the light of day again. He shrugged mentally. Ah well. Mom had never understood his fascination with the things either. He guessed he was just going to fill up a second attic at that. Besides, none of that mattered. Lois mattered.

"Okay," he said. "We'll think about it later." And maybe do some re-negotiating, he considered. He was sure that he could beat her down to a spot for his most favorite pieces, if he really tried. Bribery might help. He wondered if there was any of that Belgium chocolate left in the refrigerator back at his apartment and then made a mental note to get in more supplies if there wasn't.

Lois nodded and shifted her hand to his shoulder. She patted him gently and then wandered across the room to where a door in the corner lay ajar. "What's this? Another closet?"

She pushed the door aside and stepped into the master bathroom.

"I know you've always wanted one of these," Clark said as he appeared at her shoulder.

Lois nodded, eyes sparkling. Then she frowned. "The color's lousy," she said, looking around her at the sickly beige d E9cor.

"The color's changeable," Clark told her.

She grinned at him. "Is the shower door changeable too?" She tapped the awful Perspex screen with its incongruous row of bright yellow quacking ducks. Clark looked abruptly devastated.

"Oh no, honey, not the ducks!" He moved to stand between her and the screen, taking on a protective stance. "I *love* these ducks!" he declared dramatically, spreading his arms wide to fend off any moves she might make on them.

Lois feigned a stern look. "You keep the ducks, you're going to be showering in here all on your own," she warned as she walked across to the little window and tugged thoughtfully at the sunshine yellow blinds.

Clark straightened, turned on a swift, elegant heel and without another word, yanked the shower door from the wall. He set it down against the wall behind the door and dusted off his hands as he turned back to look at her startled face. "Goes in the trash the minute we sign the Escrow papers," he said firmly.

Lois laughed and he joined her, reaching out to put an arm around her waist and pull her against his side. She turned in his arms, her laughter dying as she looked up into his face and slid her arms around him as he bent his head to cover the lips she tilted up to meet his. They savored their kiss for a time, lips moving lazily, and then he raised his head. He put up a hand and stroked at her hair before bringing it back to cup at her cheek. "Happy?" he said.

She nodded, the brightness in her eyes confirming it.

"Good. Okay......" He changed the mood abruptly by hooking a stealthy hand behind her knees and sweeping her up into his arms. "Let's get on with this tour!"

"Clark! What're you - " she squeaked and clutched at his shoulders as he carried her the couple of steps to the bath and stepped over the side. Though the latter was pretty much for dramatic effect, since she'd no worries that he might drop her. He set her gently on her feet beside him.

"What're you doing?" Lois finished mildly as he kept her in the circle of his arms and drew her against his chest.

"Trying things out for size," he said reasonably.

Lois chuckled. "And?"

He grinned down at her. "Fits just right," he said and then added in a murmur as he moved to take possession of her lips again, "Plenty of room to maneuver when trying out other things for size......" His hand slid teasingly down between their bodies with the words, brushing lightly against the juncture of her thighs and then easing away again to stroke at her hip.

Lois giggled against his mouth. He'd been trying out most everything 'for size' since they'd started this tour, in almost every room. He'd started with the kitchen cabinets, startling her as she'd peered into the larder by hooking an arm around her waist and gently depositing her atop the nearest. He had nudged up firmly between her knees and engaged her in a long and lingering kiss before declaring himself satisfied that they were an acceptable height.

The wide window-ledges had gotten much the same treatment. He had tested out the ceiling height by gathering her into his arms and floating them both upward, indulging in some more explorations......and then there had been that closet. He had taken her completely unawares as he'd dragged her into the dark, cramped space for some moments of heated fumbling that had had her giggling helplessly before she got him to desist. To her surprise though, he hadn't pressed her for more than furtive groping and passionate fooling around and she'd had the distinct feeling that he was saving his energy for something special. No doubt in the bedroom. Where else best to christen their new home and imprint their love upon it?

She felt him grin against her slightly parted lips and then push his way between them, his tongue swirling up and into an investigation of her mouth. Her giggles dissolved in a soft moan of appreciation as he explored her fully.

"You know," she said daringly after a moment, breathing the words silkily against his lips as she clung around his neck. "They do say that one of the things you should absolutely insist on checking when you look round a new home is whether the plumbing works."

"Really? And the tried and tested method for checking this out would be --- ?"

Lois smiled and drew back a little. She beckoned him with a crooked finger and he bent his head obligingly. She put her hand to his neck and stretched herself slightly to put her lips close against his ear. She whispered stealthily.

Clark's eyebrows rose sharply. "Lo-is!"

Lois put her hands behind her back, in her favorite Little Miss Innocent pose. "I swear," she said, solemnly, giving him a sloppy Girl Guide salute. "I read it in GREAT HOMEKEEPER."

Clark gave her an intent look.

She shrugged. "Okay, it wasn't GREAT HOMEKEEPER, it was METROPOLITAN. What's the difference?"

The look deepened. "Is this the same article that taught you the 'correct' breathing method to ensure you didn't choke 'while you take champagne *and* your lover into your mouth all at the same time'?" he asked dryly.

"No, that was how to spice up your weekend at the country motel. This was the top ten tips to house buying."

"Uh-huh." He grinned.

Lois' smile turned speculating as she reached out to draw one finger slowly in a joining the dots journey across the buttons of his shirt. "And......you have to admit, they *were* right about the champagne," she added in a newly sultry tone. "Those bubbles definitely added to the......experience......" She flashed him a quick look from beneath her lashes and he chuckled.

"Did the trick for me too," he agreed. "But......sometimes......" he murmured, dropping his head to capture her lips with his, "......just the......experience......without any......frills......is more than......enough......for me. You taste better than champagne......" he added, as he lifted his head and put a hand into her hair. He pressed his palm to her flushed cheek and smiled.

Lois tilted her head, pressing back lightly against the affectionate touch. "Even the really expensive, top of the range, French kind?"

He paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, maybe not the *most* expensive, top of the range, French kind......" He grinned as she poked him against the shoulder and then let it fade as he kissed her lightly again. "Your lips taste sweeter than honey, sweeter than wine," he quoted softly and then paraphrased, "And champagne just doesn't compare."

He watched her eyes darken with his words and then she slipped her arms around his neck again, her lips meeting and moving moistly against his and they were indeed as sweet as honey and wine combined. Clark could do without either of the latter, but he could never have enough of his wife's sweet taste.

As he leaned deeper into that kiss, his lips opening under the spearing thrusts of her tongue and drawing it deeply into the warmth of his mouth where it threshed and writhed wildly, entwined with his own, his mind drifted back to the start of that conversation and he smiled wickedly against the mouth pressed tight against his.

Deepening the kiss still further, distracting her as he wrapped his arms around Lois and pressed her tighter to him, he reached up a blind hand and hit his palm against the small, wall-mounted panel of switches set to one side and slightly above his head.........

......and heard Lois shriek as a stream of ice cold water blasted out of the shower attachment and rained over them.

Gasping, Lois clutched at his shoulders as that deluge soaked them both through to the skin in a matter of moments, clothes clinging to their bodies.

"Clark!"

He cut off her breathy protest by imprisoning her lips for another round. Lois moaned, her hands reaching up from where they kneaded desperately at his shoulders and entangling themselves in his hair like small, burrowing animals. His hands explored her back and shoulders and then slid downwards to rest against her bottom. His own, deep groans of pleasure mingled with hers, then, breathing heavily now, he pushed himself slightly clear of her, putting his hands on her waist to turn her a little and lean her back against the tiled wall behind her.

Lois reached out for the buttons of his shirt and then changed her mind as he brought her in close and set himself to making the attempt to divest her of her vest top. It had the somewhat ingenious - or was that infuriating - design of fastening with a row of buttons at the back. Opening them blindly as he nuzzled at the long line of her throat seemed to be proving a challenge for him.

In an effort to speed things along, Lois tried to turn in his arms and then looked at him, surprised, as he shook his head, tightening his hold around her to trap her in place.

He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. "No, stay still......" he murmured and then, "I'm enjoying this."

Acquiescing, Lois relaxed fully into the circle of his arms, her breath rising swift and shallow as a soft thrill of excitement coursed through her, made more delicious with anticipation and curiosity. Clark put his fingers back to the buttons of her top. Far from fueling his impatience, as it might well have done at another time, the awkwardness of the arrangement was playing in well with his current mood.

"Do you know how long I've fantasized about doing this to you?" he said, hushed, against her neck as he made his way down the line of tiny buttons, savoring the way that their position pressed her up against him, the soft swell of her breasts crushed tight against his chest; their hips melding. He inhaled the soft scents of her hair, her skin...... His tongue lapped at the water traveling across her shoulder as he tugged the top just a little downward, forward, to bare her shoulders, and she shivered.

"Fantassssss-ized......? After......everything we've done these past......two weeks......you still have......have......unresolved fantasies about making love to me......?"

Part #2