Now You're Gone

5

The second Clark's head hit the pillow Flyboy was out like a light. Lois pulled the curtains back and climbed into bed with him. The sun leaked through the window, bathing Clark in a warm, gold halo. His chest rose and fell as he snored. Subconsciously he turned toward her, his hand plopping over her belly. His touch set her blood aflame.

Lois moaned softly as she rested a hand over his hot flesh. Clark's strong arms had a way of blocking out all pain and worry. Nothing existed outside this bubble of tranquility. The only thing that would make this moment better was Clark's magnetic smile when he heard the good news. She had half a mind to wake Clark and tell him now; Clark needed to rest. Forget the Kryptonite, he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. His horny wife's appetite kept him awake.

She entertained herself by alternating between braiding the long wisps at the base of his neck and petting Eira, who had curled behind Clark protectively. Her big head rested against Clark's shoulder and she routinely licked his feverish brow. Color slowly returned to his face. She watched in fascination as the sunrays stitched up the scrapes, but the process seemed slower than usual.

He was gorgeous. Adonis in the flesh.

Without thinking, Lois's hand slid down his boxers, longing to taste that rare delicacy. Eira growled a warning, swatting her hand away with her paw.

"Sorry," Lois squeaked, her hands trembling. Eira glared at her with deep-amber eyes that left no room for debate. Two red dots of embarrassment appeared on her face. She was right of course. This was not the right time for sex.

Eira had a knack for keeping Clark out of trouble and apparently, that included protecting him from his horny wife. She was thrilled they had the afternoon off, but she was worried. It wasn't every day a kryptonite bomb erupted in Superman's face. Fortunately, he hadn't been close enough for there to be any permanent damage. But the question remained, who tried to kill Superman?

Clark's phone began to ring. She quickly snatched it off the bedside table and answered before the ringtone woke Clark. "Hello?" she whispered.

"How is he?" Barry asked. "That bomb looked nasty," he whistled softly. Lois was too afraid to watch the footage. All the evidence she needed was lying next to her. She hadn't seen Clark this sick since Nightfall. At least he didn't need a blood transfusion this time.

"He's sleeping at the moment. But he seems to be on the mend," Lois responded. She considered telling Barry about Lombard, but there were more pressing matters. "I'm worried, Barry," Lois admitted. "Did you find anything at the crime scene?" She hoped his time as CSI would prove fruitful in this instance.

"Nothing concrete," Barry said sadly. "Kryptonite is kinda fickle."

"Nothing is ever easy," Lois swore, resting her hand over her belly. "Thanks for checking it out anyway."

"I didn't say I have nothing," Barry chided. "Get this . . . it's quite genius – if I were a Supervillain I would do—"

"Barry," Lois chided. "Stay focused."

"Right sorry, I get excited about . . . anyway. The bomb was remote-controlled. It was set off the second civilians were out of harm's way."

"So no one but Superman was hurt," Lois realized.

"It doesn't make any sense," Barry thought out loud. "Looking at the reports, the bomb wasn't big enough to do any real damage."

"Seemed to do plenty of damage from where I'm sitting," Lois said. Clark groaned and turned toward her voice. She brushed his sweaty brow. She was uncertain how accurate those reports were.