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Broken	By : MidnightBard Category: G through L > Lois & Clark Views: 2191 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Before the echo of the door slamming could fade, Clark zipped over to the stairs. In the blink of an eye, he'd ascended to the roof and let himself out into the swirling snow. Normally, he would have exited via the lobby, but with the storm in full force, it would look suspicious to leave that way. Besides, he wanted to shed the identity of Clark Kent for a while. He didn't want to be Superman either, but he had to get away from the Lexor. He spun into the familiar blue suit and took off into the night.
                For a while, he flew aimlessly, thankful for the relative quiet of the night. The simple act of flying had always brought him peace before. But not tonight. Tonight, his stomach was twisted in knots and the taste of bile was in the back of his throat. His thoughts were racing too; circling over and over in a vicious cycle while soul-crushing shame tore at his heart.
                I can't believe what a screw-up I am, he thought to himself in a bitter, mocking voice. Maybe Alex was right all those years ago. Maybe I really am a freak. Maybe there is no place for me. Poor Lois. I've let her down. She's been stuck with a broken shell of a man. I should never have gotten involved with her. I could have lived with loving her from afar, no matter how much it might have hurt. But now? Now I'm going to have to break both of our hearts. How can I ask her to marry me after this? How can I subject her to a life where I can't fulfill her every need and desire?
                He shook his head, trying to disperse his thoughts, but they continued to plague him. He forced himself to look at his surrounding, to get his bearings. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, and knew he could be anywhere in the world.
                He telescoped his vision in, scanning the ground. A dark countryside greeted him, familiar in a distant way. Then it dawned on him. Smallville. He was back in the farmlands of his youth. Specifically, he realized, he was only a mile or two from the farmhouse that had been his home. He changed course slightly, so as not to bypass his former home. It took him only a second to get there. He circled the place, looking it over to see what had remained the same and what had been changed.
                Shame burned him as he did so. Not once in all the intervening years since his mother's death had he ever gone back home.
                It wasn't that he didn't want to be there. It wasn't that it was too emotional for him. It wasn't out of disinterest. He simply hadn't had the heart to go back. He just couldn't bear the thought of the Kent farm belonging to anyone else. He couldn't stand the thought of what changes they might have made - that it might not feel like home anymore.
                With both elder Kents dead, the bank had seized the property immediately. Rough times on the farm had forced Clark's parents to take out a second mortgage on the house and land. They had steadily been making headway in paying off their debt, but there was still a sizable amount left upon Martha's death. The bank had had no choice but to foreclose on the property. Not that Clark could have bought the farm, even if he did have the money in his meager bank account. He'd simply been too young.
                But now, looking upon the once familiar land, he found his fears had been justified.
                The place was nearly unrecognizable to his eyes.
                The farmhouse had been repainted, now a somber shade of gray instead of the cheerful, carefully maintained white it had been. An extension had been added onto the house in the back, behind where the kitchen had been. Large glass windows sat dark at that late hour, but Clark could see within easily enough. A den of sorts, complete with large television, a leather couch, and two matching recliners. Shelves stood to one side, stocked with movies of all types.
                As for the fields, Clark couldn't tell what was different and what might have remained the same. With winter claiming hold to the land, the fields all lay quiet and untilled. Nothing grew there. He shifted his gaze to the yard where he had played as a boy. A fresh knife cut his heart when he saw the tree where his "Fortress of Solitude" had once been. The tree house was gone. The rough bark of the tree was deeply scarred where the various nails had been torn from the branches and trunk. Nothing else remained of Clark's old playhouse and thinking spot, the place where he'd often fled to as a child to be alone, especially once his powers had begun to develop, scarring him to death.
                He flew to the tree and settled down amidst the branches, sitting cross-legged where the tree house had once sat. He wished there were leaves on the tree to conceal him from prying eyes, but then figured that it was unlikely to be a problem. It was late and the house was completely dark, save for the dim illumination coming from a night light in the hall bathroom.
                This place isn't home anymore, he thought glumly. All this time, I hoped I might find some comfort if I ever came back. But it's not home. Not anymore. I don't belong to this place any more than it belongs to me. I really don't fit in anywhere, do I?
                He sighed and looked up at the stars. Here, at least, the sky was clear, untouched by the storm clouds which were pelting Metropolis with snow.
                Metropolis.
                My home, Clark thought, though he felt unconvinced by that notion. But, do I really belong there? Sure, Lois is there; my heart and soul. But if I can't be intimate with her...
                He sighed again, feeling more drained than he ever had before in his life, even more anguished than he'd ever felt in the presence of Kryptonite.
                Jimmy and Perry are there too, he reminded himself. My friends. But without Lois...no, I don't belong in Metropolis.
                For a while, he stared, unseeing, at the house he'd grown up in. He'd been safe there. Loved. Protected. Accepted. All the feelings being with Lois had invoked, before he'd spilled his deepest, darkest secret to her. Before he'd shamed himself by being completely unable to make love to her.
                He missed his parents terribly. Not that they could have offered any sort of sage advice for his situation. But having them around had always been comforting for him, even in the scariest of times, when his emerging powers had all but paralyzed him with fear. They had always been there to offer a kind word, a listening ear, and a pat on the shoulder. They had always been so patient, so understanding.
                Just like Lois has been through all of this, he mused. What have I done? I should go back to her. I should apologize. But how? Besides, it won't change anything. She has to know by now that I'm broken beyond repair.
                He knew in his heart that he needed to go back. But his body was leaden and uncooperative. He did not move from his perch. He couldn't will himself to rise and fly. A meteor could have crashed into the house before him and he still couldn't be positive that he would be able to find the energy and the willpower to move. It was far more preferable for him to just sit, unmoving, and brood over his failure that night.
                Oh, Mom, Dad, he internally lamented, I really wish you guys were here right now. I wish I'd been able to save you both. Things haven't gone well for me since you guys passed away. At least, they weren't until I met Lois. Then things were more amazing than I ever thought possible. But now that Lois and I are on the brink of marriage...things are looking bad again. And it's all my fault. My fears. My hang-ups. My shortcomings. What do I do now?
                He looked heavenward, but the stars were silent, cold, distant. They offered no words of wisdom to him. They did not whisper any comfort. They only stared down at him, indifferent to his pain and inner turmoil.
                After a while, Clark became aware of how long he'd been there. A light in the farmhouse clicked on in the master bedroom. Another followed in the master bathroom. Afraid that whoever was awake might chance a look out the window and see him, Clark took off from his perch. He circled the farmhouse again, looking over it once more, and envisioning it as it had once been. Then he oriented himself and flew back over the countryside, heading toward Metropolis.
                It was only seconds before the city lights came into view, with Clark employing the full extent of his speed. He reached the clock tower in midtown and slowed to a halt. For a minute he just hovered there, looking from one direction to another. To return to the Lexor and Lois? Or to head to his apartment and stave off the shame of facing Lois that night? That was the question he had to weigh.
                The Lexor, he finally decided. It's not fair to Lois to make her stay on a stakeout all alone. I owe her my assistance in our assignment, at the very least.
                He changed course and flew at a leisurely pace toward the hotel. The blizzard still raged all around him. Strong winds pulled at his cape; the material snapped in response as it remained tethered to him. Snow pelted his eyes; he shielded them with one hand, more out of habit than necessity. The bitter cold clawed at him; Clark barely felt or acknowledged it. The streets below were eerily silent; snow, rather than people, filled them that night.
                Clark landed lightly atop the hotel's roof. He looked out over the sleeping city, watching as the tiny white flakes raced down from the clouds and blanketed the world. Though the silence of Metropolis was unnerving, it was also oddly peaceful at the same time. It was nice, to not have his ears assaulted with the usual cacophony of sound that always pervaded the city, even in the dead of the night. He took his time in soaking up the blissful quiet, then headed for the door which would lead him back inside. Back to Lois and whatever wrath she might be feeling toward him.
                Wish me luck, he thought to no one in particular.
                He floated above the layer of snow on the roof. By morning, his footprints would be filled in anyway, but he refused to risk anything. Superman had no business being in the Lexor, so why bring any attention to the fact that he'd been there, just in case? He spun into his regular clothes, pulled open the door, and stepped inside.
                The warmth within the building was almost unbearable after the frigid temperature of the outside world. At least, Clark assumed it would feel that way to a normal person. For him, the abrupt change in temperature, though welcome, barely registered in his distracted state. He simply forced his feet to take him down the stairs to his floor. Before he knew it, he was standing before the door to the honeymoon suite. With any luck, Lois would be asleep and he could spend the night on the couch while he tried to figure out what he could possibly say to her after the night's sexual debacle.
                He slipped the plastic card key into the slot and waited for the light on the lock to turn green. He heard the click as the lock released and then entered the suite. Lois was sitting on the couch, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and one of Clark's oversized sweatshirts that she had long ago laid claim to. Her knees were drawn up into her chest as she hugged them to herself, staring blankly at the television before her, while an infomercial droned on at a low tone.
                "Clark!" she cried, obvious relief in her voice, once she realized he was back. Relief that he was unhurt or that he had returned at all, he couldn't quite tell. "You're back! Where the hell have you been?"
                "Out," he replied numbly. "Just out."
                "That much is obvious," she retorted lightly. Then, even more softly, "I was getting worried about you." She rose from the couch and went to his side, but he flinched away from her touch.
                "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just...needed space. Needed to think."
                "After the way you rushed out of here..."
                "I know," he said, cutting her off, his voice soft. "I know."
                "You want to talk about it?"
                He shook his head. "Not really. At least, not now."
                "I'm glad you came back," Lois said, and Clark could hear the sincerity in her words.
                "I couldn't leave you here alone," he said wearily, walking a few steps away from her. "Look, no offense, Lois, but I'm kind of wiped. I just want to get some sleep."
                She nodded understandingly. "Okay."
                "I'll just grab a pillow from inside and be out of your way in a minute."
                "Out of my way...? Just where did you think you were going to sleep?"
                He gestured. "The couch?" It hadn't started as a question, but somehow it became one as he spoke.
                Lois shook her head firmly. "No."
                "No?"
                "I'm not going to let you spend the night on the couch. Not when there is a perfectly good, and large, bed right inside the other room."
                "Lois, don't you think it's best if...?"
                "Absolutely not," she cut in, her voice brooking no argument. "Look, Clark, I'm not going to fight about this. Just humor me, okay?"
                As always, he found himself unable to resist her request. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "Okay."
                "Thanks." She gave him a small smile.
                "You can have the bathroom first," he said, making his way to his luggage to dig out clothes to sleep in.
                While Lois disappeared into the bathroom, Clark unpacked his luggage at super speed. He undressed completely, carefully placing his Superman suit away, hiding it from any potential prying eyes. Finding one of his favorite t-shirts, he pulled it on, along with a fresh pair of socks, briefs, and a thin pair of gray plaid pajama pants. All in all, it took him less than twenty seconds to do it all. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited until Lois came out of the bathroom. Then he went in, relieved himself, and brushed his teeth, his mind circling back to the blue and red suit he'd just hidden away.
                Some superhero I am, he thought as the minty toothpaste foamed in his mouth. I go out there, every day, helping people. Meanwhile, I can't even help myself. I tell people in dangerous situations not to be afraid, but I'm too terrified to cross that final border into intimacy with the one person I've ever wanted to make love to.
                He spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth.
                I'm glad Alex is in custody now, but what he did to me...I thought it might stop haunting me so badly with him behind bars. I thought things would be different. How long must I suffer? Or is it fitting that I do, since I never reported him? After all, my silence only allowed him to rape and kill more boys. Maybe I just don't deserve to get past my insecurities.
                Sighing, he rinsed his mouth one more time, then his toothbrush. Looking at himself for a moment in the mirror, he shut the light and left the room. Lois was already under the blankets in the bed, laying propped up with two pillows. She patted the empty space in the bed to her right side. Clark obeyed silently and slipped beneath the sheets. He lay on his back for a moment, eyes closed, trying to calm his turbulent thoughts.
                "Hey," she whispered, flipping on her side to face him.
                "Hey."
                "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.
                "I'm not really sure," he answered truthfully.
                She reached out to him and rubbed his arm affectionately. But the gesture only made him more uncomfortable in the wake of all that had happened that night. He shrugged away from her touch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw disappointment flicker over her features. But he was too mentally exhausted to do anything about it.
                "We'll talk in the morning," he said as a measure of pacification. "I really just want to get some sleep."
                "Okay," she relented, still disappointed he could see. "Good night, Clark."
                "Night, Lois."
                "Love you."
                "Love you too," he managed.
                In his heart, he was bursting with his love for her. But he was still torn. Torn as to if he should continue to be with her, to possibly condemn her to a life without physical satisfaction or if he should break things off with her, breaking both their hearts in the process, but freeing Lois to pursue someone who could give her everything. Torn as to if he should - or could - continue to push the envelope and see if he could conquer his fears or if he should surrender to his shortcomings and accept that he might well never be free of his skittishness.
                He rolled onto his side, facing away from Lois and hugged the pillow to his head with one hand. Behind him, he heard her shuffling around, trying to get comfortable. After a while, she settled down and he heard the change in her breathing that signaled that she was asleep. For a long time, Clark attempted to rest as well, but sleep remained just out of reach.
                He must have dozed off after a while though. He awoke from his dreams, slowly surfacing to wakefulness. What he'd been dreaming about he wasn't sure. Waking had swept all memory of it away like hazy mist in a breeze. The first thing he became aware of was Lois' body pressed against his. Her arm was draped lazily over his midsection. Her breath barely tickled the back of his neck and ruffled his hair. His immediate thought was that her embrace felt wonderful, and how much he would miss it if he broke things off with her.
                The next thing he was aware of was the uncomfortable erection that had sprouted while he'd slept. He rolled his eyes in irritation. Of course it would choose to make an appearance now, in the middle of the night, and not when he'd really needed it when he'd been so close to making love to Lois. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore it, but it persisted and refused to allow him to fall back to sleep. He finally pushed the covers off and slipped out of Lois' embrace. He could see, even in the dark, that Lois had, at some point during the night, shed her sweats, choosing, instead, to be clad only in her panties. The sight made his erection throb with desire.
                Unwilling - no, terrified - to risk a repeat non-performance, he shook his head at the fleeting thought that he should wake Lois. Instead, he shuffled off to the bathroom. He switched on the light and squinted against the sudden intrusion. He took a sip of water from the faucet then went to empty his bladder. Still, his erection remained, so he made the decision to give himself the relief he needed, knowing he would not sleep again until the urge was satisfied. Stripping out of his clothes, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It just felt more natural to pleasure himself under the spray of warm water, instead of just standing there in the middle of the room. And he certainly didn't want to risk doing so in the living room, where Lois might walk in on him.
                Clark sighed as he let the water run over his body and closed his eyes. With his right hand, he took hold of his aching shaft and began to stroke. Concentrating on his task, he could almost imagine that it was Lois touching him. He could picture her lips closing around the head of his penis, as she had done earlier in the night. He imagined the hot shower water as the inviting, warm moistness of her mouth. In his mind's eye, he pictured the stroking motion of his hand as Lois' head bobbing up and down along his length, drawing him almost into her throat and back out again until he was nearly free of her.
                With that image in mind, as well as the unfulfilled need he'd awoken when he and Lois had first begun to fool around that night, it didn't take him too long. He moaned softly as his orgasm overtook him. His hips jerked forward as his semen shot from him and splashed onto the shower wall tiles - white marble flecked with veins of gold. His heart was racing and his breathing was ragged.
                At least, he thought to himself, the act of self pleasure had become a little easier. He'd once found such shame in the act, like he was doing something very wrong, and not something natural at all. But the more he and Lois experimented with each other's bodies, the easier it had become - the more comfortable it had become - for him to get to know his own body. For the first time in his life, he felt comfortable and confident with the swift, sure strokes that brought him to his climax. And, for the first time, he had learned to enjoy the sensations that enveloped him after his orgasm, instead of the immediate disgust he'd always directed at himself. He felt like a normal man doing a perfectly normal and natural thing, and not a dirty pervert, the way he'd thought of himself ever since the first time Alex had forced himself on Clark.
                As the last tendrils of pleasure faded from Clark, he washed his hair and body, using a fraction of his super speed. Then he stepped out of the shower, turned the water off, and dried himself. Listening to ensure that Lois was still asleep, he hung the used towel up and strode, naked, into the bedroom. He pulled out fresh clothing, tossed the dirty stuff into a bag he'd designated for laundry, and climbed back into bed. Lois had since flipped onto her other side while still engrossed in her dreams, now facing away from where Clark lay. He thought of gathering her into his arms, but he was still unsure about himself. He faced away from her, closed his eyes, and drifted hesitantly back to sleep.
                He awoke before Lois did. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, groaning unhappily at the weak sunlight that came through the windows. He cracked open one eye and looked at the clock. Time to get up for the day. Yawning, he sat and stretched before pushing the covers away and standing up. Grabbing a pair of sweats and a matching shirt, he dressed, then shuffled off to the living room to check on their surveillance equipment.
                He flipped open the laptop lid and checked the set up. As predicted, nothing had been recorded overnight. He picked up the phone and called down to the front desk, ordering a breakfast to share with Lois as well as a carafe of coffee. Then he went to the window and looked out.
                The storm had lost the majority of its power it seemed. The howling winds from the previous night had ceased. The snow, once pelting the ground with ferocity, now fell with almost a laziness. But its legacy remained. Clark could see, even without his powers, the snow drifts piled up against, and mostly engulfing, street signs. And across the street, a brave soul had trudged to his coffee shop and began the slow process of digging out. The bright yellow blade of the shovel disappeared time and again into the snow, only to reappear, heavily laden, to toss the wet white stuff to one side.
                A knock at the door pulled Clark from his sentinel position. He x-rayed through the thick wooden door before putting on his glasses. Breakfast had arrived. He sprinted to the door and opened it, then tipped the woman who'd delivered their meal. A noise behind him made him turn, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
                "Morning," he said, as cheerfully as he could, the events of the previous night still haunting him.
                Lois yawned and rubbed at her eyes. "Morning. Is that coffee that I smell?"
                Clark's grin broke free at that. "It is! I ordered us some breakfast."
                "Thanks."
                "My pleasure."
                Lois walked around the couch and took a seat while Clark wheeled the cart of food over. He poured Lois' coffee and fixed it just the way she liked, something he'd done dozens of times before. It was soothing, he mentally noted, to do even the most miniscule and banal part of their usual routine. He handed the mug to Lois and watched as she took the first sip.
                "Perfect, as usual," she declared.
                Clark nodded and made his own drink while Lois piled a plate high with the scrambled eggs, bacon, fruit slices and toast that Clark had ordered. He did the same before picking at his meal. He had to talk to Lois about what had transpired the previous night. He just wasn't sure how to broach the subject.
                "Not hungry?" Lois asked, noticing as he shoved his food around with his fork.
                "Just...distracted."
                She nodded, seeming to know what was weighing on his mind. She said nothing, however - waiting, it appeared, for him to take the lead. For his part, Clark remained silent, allowing Lois to finish her breakfast before they jumped into a discussion about the crushing failure of the night before.
                "Lois...about last night..." he finally ventured, when she put her plate to one side and began to concentrate only on her coffee. "You must be mad."
                He looked at her briefly, trying to assess how she was feeling now, but her face was carefully fixed into an unreadable mask. He dropped his eyes to the floor.
                "I'm sorry I couldn't...you know," he said with a weak gesture. "I know I disappointed you."
                "You think that's why I would be mad at you?" Lois asked, sounding a little surprised, though her tone had a sliver of a harder tone to it.
                "Well...yeah. I'm sure it can't be easy for you. It's like...like I rejected you or something."
                She shook her head. "I could never be mad at you for that," she said softly. "I know how hard this whole thing is for you...fighting your demons, healing the scars Alex inflicted."
                "Really?" Clark said, surprised himself.
                Lois held up a hand to silence him, and he obeyed.
                "However," she continued. "What I was mad about was the fact that you ran out on me last night. You know I will never have a problem with you leaving for an emergency. But last night...you told me to cancel the wedding and then just left. You wouldn't talk about it. You wouldn't even be rational about it. You just talked about the idea of rejecting me. Well, that felt a lot like rejection, Clark. And it hurt me. It hurt that you wouldn't talk to me, that you think so little of me that you seem convinced that one bad experience is going to magically make me change my mind about you. As if last night could make me love you any less." By the end, her voice was quavering with unshed tears.
                Shamed boiled up inside Clark and he went scarlet in embarrassment. "I guess I never thought of it that way," he admitted. "You know I think the world of you, Lois. It's me...I'm the one that I don't think highly of. I guess, in my own way, I'm a coward. When I couldn't perform last night..." he broke off with a sigh before continuing. "I just couldn't face you, face my failure. I thought...for a moment last night...I thought I might have finally beaten this problem of mine. And when I found out that I hadn't...I just...my first instinct was to run from that. From my failure. From the embarrassment I felt. I wasn't running from you. I was trying to run from myself."
                Lois nodded. "I thought as much. But...well...it still hurt."
                "I never meant to hurt you, I promise. I was just so angry at myself that I didn't stop to think about how I was coming across to you."
                "And now? Are you going to run from me now?"
                Clark hesitated for a split second. "I don't want to. But sometimes...sometimes I feel like the world's most selfish person. I want nothing more than to spend my life with you, loving you. But then I wonder what might happen if I can't defeat this problem of mine. How can I make you live your life with a broken man?"
                "You won't."
                "How can you be so sure?"
                "Because," she said with a soft smile. "Look at how far you've come already."
                "What do you mean?"
                "I mean...when you first told me your secret, the night you found Alex and turned him over to the police...do you remember how skittish you were?"
                He nodded. "I could barely touch myself in that way," he admitted, his voice nearly a whisper.
                Lois nodded. "And now? Now, look at you. You aren't afraid when I touch you. You aren't afraid to touch me in that way either. You've made huge progress, Clark, in a very short amount of time, whether you believe it or not."
                It was true, he knew it even before she said it. Not long ago, the idea of anyone - even Lois - touching him in his most intimate of areas had been a terrifying prospect. His own hands had felt wrong being on his body in that manner, let alone the idea that anyone else could touch him and excite him in preparation to be intimate with him. And touching anyone else in a sexual manner had been completely outside of the realm of possibilities to him. But now, with Lois' gentle patience and love, he had shed those fears, those former feelings of wrongness. He did not shy away from her touch; he craved it. He did not balk at the idea of touching, kissing, fondling her breasts or the intimate place between her thighs; he wanted to know every inch of her in extreme detail.
                "I guess you're right," he conceded.
                "Of course I am," she retorted with a light-hearted snort. "Just...answer me something, okay?"
                He nodded.
                "Was it my fault last night?" she asked, her voice sinking to a whisper. "Did my...was it that I was going to be on top...that freaked you out? Because, I know there's a certain mindset of submissiveness that goes along with that and maybe it reminded you of what Alex did and.."
                Clark couldn't help the tiny chuckle that came out as he cut off her babbling before it could go full-force. "No, Lois. Not at all. Believe me, if I thought I would have had a problem with that, I would have let you know. Truth is, on top or on the bottom, I just wanted to be with you so much that it hurt. But when I thought about what was happening - what was about to happen - I just...I just kind of psyched myself out a bit. I guess I'm a little too...I don't know...in my own head sometimes."
                "So it wasn't me?"
                "Nope. I take full responsibility for last night. I'm trying to learn to relax and just go with it. I really am. But last night, I just wanted to finally be with you. I pushed myself too hard and too fast. And I got a little scared when I realized what I was doing."
                "So then...we go back to taking it slow," Lois said thoughtfully.
                "Actually, if it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to take a break from it. Just for a bit, not forever. I just need some time to..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Regroup," he finally settled on, less than thrilled with his choice of wording.
                To his surprise, Lois nodded. "Okay."
                "Really?" He couldn't stop the word from escaping his mouth.
                Again she nodded. "Really. Look, Clark, I need you to know that I'm here for you, no matter how long you need. I'll wait for you. Just promise me one thing?"
                "What?"
                "Promise me that you won't run from this anymore. Promise me that you won't run out when...if...things get difficult. Please, don't shut me out. Let me help you, like you always have with everything else."
                He smiled a lopsided smile at her. "I promise."
                Satisfied, Lois smiled back. "Good." She took the last sip of her coffee and set the mug aside. "So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?"
                He shook his head. "I don't know. The camera didn't pick up any movement across the way last night, not that I'm surprised. We'll put in a call to check in with Perry regardless. I don't think we're going anywhere today. It looks like the city hasn't started plowing the streets yet. At least, the majority of the storm is still clogging up the streets."
                "Well, how about we just take it easy today?"
                "Sounds good to me," he said, relief flooding his body. Lois hadn't yelled or screamed at him. She hadn't even sounded all that angry, though he believed her when she'd said that she'd been hurt by his actions.
                "Okay then. But, Clark?"
                "Yeah?"
                "I'm looking forward to something better than overpriced hotel food for lunch and dinner."
                Clark laughed. "That can be arranged."
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Broken