Subject: [glass_onion] SV FIC: Somniloquy Date: Thursday, May 30, 2002 1:35 AM
Summary: Lois thinks about her relationship with Clark. Category: Drama, Futurefic
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Millar Gough, the WB, and DC Comics. No profit is intended. Archive: I'm sure I'll say yes, but please let me know so I can visit.
Email: Feedback is hugged and squeezed and called George at email@example.com
"Thank you" to my wonderful betas La Reina and especially Tarchannon. The story was much improved by their input.
Author's notes at the end.
Lois grimaced as he did it again. It was becoming more and more frequent as their wedding got closer. Not that that meant anything, right? So what if she and Chloe were both reporters with a take no prisoners attitude and cuteness out the yinyang. It wasn't as if he'd asked her to dye her hair blonde or anything. He wasn't Jimmy Stewart, she wasn't Kim Novak, and the closest Metropolis came to San Francisco was the annual Gay Pride Parade.
He did it again, louder this time, and she rolled to her side to stare at him in the faint light. His hair was sticking up, probably from when they'd made love earlier, and his mouth was open slightly in sleep. No, it didn't mean anything.
She'd first met Clark at the funeral, but she'd heard about him for years before that from Chloe. She and Chloe were the only female cousins in the family, and being so similar in age and interests, they'd always been close. Chloe had told her when Clark had asked her out the first time, when they first shared an open-mouthed kiss, when they first told each other 'I love you', and when they lost their virginity together. They had dated all through high school and had both been accepted at Metropolis University. They had to live in the dorms their freshman year, but they'd managed to get assigned to the same hall, and Lois knew Chloe had planned to ask Clark to get an apartment with her off campus the following year.
She and Clark had hugged each other at the funeral and expressed condolences, but Lois hadn't seen or even thought of him again until years later when he started working for The Planet. She certainly never would have predicted they would end up engaged. They were such opposites. His personality was so sunny plants leaned toward him when he walked down the street, and hers . . . wasn't. She was never surprised by the evils they reported, while Clark could still be shocked by human depravity and greed even after all this time as a journalist. They had been friends for years before anything remotely romantic developed.
That seemed to be a pattern with Clark now that she thought about it. From little things he'd said, she knew he'd been involved in another serious relationship his senior year in college with a friend that had ended badly. He'd never mentioned any details though, and since she had a pretty good idea as to why, she hadn't pushed for once in her life. So the fact that he moaned her dead cousin's name in his sleep in a voice sexy enough to make the ice caps melt didn't mean she was just a substitute for his first love. It wasn't as if he'd ever said the wrong name while they were making love.
That wasn't the worst of it anyway, she thought as she rolled away from him, curling around the pillow clutched to her chest. The worst was when he moaned Lex's name.
Chloe she could understand. She'd loved Chloe, but . . . Lex? It wasn't the bisexuality that bothered her. Not once she was past the initial surprise, anyway. But Lex . . . Lex was everything she and Clark fought against. Lex was megalomania, and greed, and power at any price and, and . . . apparently Clark's lover at one time. She just couldn't wrap her mind around it. Not for lack of trying either. She wiped a tear away and hugged her pillow tighter. If Clark could get involved with someone like that, even for a while, then there was a side of him that she knew nothing about. A side that maybe, just maybe, could marry someone not for herself, but as a substitute for another.
He had hidden his tights-wearing alter ego so well, for so long. At least he would talk about being Superman with her. Normally he's the one who wanted to talk about their feelings and their relationship. But he had big 'keep out' signs on those doors labeled Chloe and Lex. He'd made that abundantly clear the few times she'd mentioned Chloe, no matter how carefully she brought up his past. She hadn't even tried to mention Lex.
She felt like Bluebeard's wife. How many metaphorical bodies were buried in those rooms of Clark's? What else was he hiding? She'd always hated that story - a misogynist lesson to teach the little woman not to seek knowledge.
Her instincts . . . her instincts were telling her to beat down those doors no matter what, but would she survive what she found there? She let out a shuddering sigh. She would survive it. But would it be worth it? She had opened all her doors to Clark. Only Clark. Well, all her doors but the one containing these fears.
She got out of bed and padded to the sliding glass doors, putting on her robe as she stepped out on the balcony. A faint, warm breeze stirred her hair. Even at this hour of the night, the light from the Metropolis skyline competed with the light from the stars. And of all those myriad little lights, natural and artificial, none held any answers for her.
She looked back at Clark asleep in the bed. His beautiful, adored features were limned in soft gray through the glass door. She watched his lips move and cried.
Author's notes: In the movie Vertigo, by Alfred Hitchcock, Jimmy Stewart's character remakes Kim Novak's character into the image of a dead woman. It's set in San Francisco.
The story of Bluebeard as I heard it: Bluebeard brought his bride home and gave her the keys to all the rooms in his house. He told her she was welcome to go in any of them, but one. Whatever she did, she must never go into that room. He went off to sea, and at first she ignored that room. Eventually, boredom and curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the door. Inside the room were the bodies of all his past wives. They had all opened the door as well. While she stood there in shock and terror, Bluebeard barred the door from the outside, shutting her in to die like the others.
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