Fic: No Place Like Home | Superman II | Clark/Lois | PG | 1/1
Title: No Place Like Home
Fandom: DCU/Superman II (with hints of SR)
Pairing: Clark/Lois
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,643
Prompt: For kalalanekent: my take on a deleted scene from SII
Summary: After sharing dinner at the Fortress for the first time, Clark shows Lois something remarkable about where he came from.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Happy Birthday, Lois!! :D I played just a little fast and loose with movie canon here, and couldn't resist a few nods to SR, thanks to my handy copy of the novelization. ^_~ Once again, the Reeveverse bunnies are plentiful and come running at the drop of a prompt. Thank goodness! :p
No Place Like Home
After they finish dinner, Lois isn't sure what to expect from the rest of the evening. She knows she's probably blushing like a damn school girl just thinking about it, but it's pretty clear Clark must have a... a bedroom here, since he's got a dining room, of sorts. And why shouldn't her thoughts take her to that conclusion, anyway? It's not like she hasn't been on a dinner date before, and there's a protocol to these things, even if Clark might not be particularly aware of it.
So it's no surprise when Clark gets up from the table, takes her hand, and says, “There's something I want to show you,” gesturing with a nod toward another part of the Fortress.
Lois feels the mad blush moving down her body all the way to her toes, and can't help a shiver in the chilly air. “Okay,” she breathes, standing and following him, her fingers tucked into his large, warm hand.
What she doesn't expect as they pass through a smaller hallway off of the main chamber is to find herself in what seems to be a large living room, with an old, comfy-looking couch along one crystalline wall, and other regular furniture placed... well, normally. Where she'd expected to find a spartan bedroom with a cocoon-pod-nest for a bed with silver lamé sheets, here they were in a homey space, about as far from alien as it could be.
“Clark?” she asks lamely, stopping in the middle of the room as he moves to do something at a crystalline control panel on the wall opposite the couch.
He looks back at her with a quirky little smirk, sliding a small crystal into a slot, and suddenly the wall seems to come to life with soft, muted light, glowing from within like some sort of TV screen. “You can have a seat, Lois. The couch won't bite,” he says, his eyes alight with a mischief she can't help but be a little wary of, even if it thrills her to the core. “I'll be right back.”
Sinking down onto the cushions―and God, it is comfy!―she suppresses another shiver as he disappears through a crystal door that seems to slide back into the wall. It's then that the lit-up wall across the room seems to shimmer, and an image resolves itself, comes into focus.
A planet, hanging in space, shines with pinkish light reflected from a red sun.
She knows at once that it has to be Krypton, and her heart seizes up in her chest, a breath caught in her throat.
It's Clark's... home.
“Are you okay?”
And he's standing in the open doorway, changed out of his cape and tights into a white t-shirt, jeans, and socks, looking at her with a concerned expression, his hair falling down over his forehead and almost over his eyes, the curl obscured.
It's so much more like the Clark she knows, so much a middle ground between the hero and the hayseed, that she can't help a sharp breath in at the sight. “I....” she starts, then shakes her head, feeling like an idiot. Of course he's really in-between the two personas; he'd probably go nuts if it was all an act. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
Nodding with an almost self-deprecating short laugh, he steps out of the doorway, the panel closing behind him, and joins her on the couch. “You're cold,” he observes as he picks up a piece of crystal from the coffee table and seems to twist it in his hand.
“Um,” she starts again, blinking as the light in the room dims and the image on the wall screen unfreezes, the planet looming closer and closer, “a little.” And she's surprised when Clark pulls an old-fashioned granny square afghan down from the back of the couch and drapes it around her shoulders, sliding closer to her as he lets his arm rest around her back, almost protectively.
The warmth of the blanket and Clark's mere proximity is so welcome, she halfway sighs with it, burrowing back into the blanket and his light embrace. “Thanks. If I'd known it was gonna be so chilly I'd have worn a sweater or something.”
Clark laughs a little, more amused and apologetic this time, gently squeezing her. “Sorry. The temperature controls in here don't go very high. Krypton was a cold planet, so we evolved to have a higher body heat and didn't need warmer environments.”
Lois nods, glancing at him for a moment before turning her attention back to the screen. “It looks cold,” she says, stating the obvious like a moron. A deep breath, and she shakes herself slightly again. “So, is this like home movies, or what? With a crystal remote control?”
To her surprise, Clark actually blushes beside her, ducking his head a little. “Um, yeah, I suppose. I thought it might help to show you where I came from, even if I don't remember it.”
“How long―?” she asks, not quite able to complete the question as she realizes she doesn't even know when he came here.
Clark stiffens for a brief moment, then lets out a slow breath, twisting the crystal in his hand once more. “Krypton was destroyed when I was just an infant. My parents sent me here to save me from their fate.”
Without another thought besides shock and crushing sadness for him, Lois reaches over and squeezes his hand over the crystal in his grip. “I'm sorry.”
He smiles just fractionally, giving her a sideways glance, then nods toward the screen. “It's okay. Like I said, I don't remember it. I was found by the Kents when I was about three, and they raised me in Smallville. Small town America and all that. I was very lucky,” he finishes explaining, the fingers of his hand curled around Lois's arm fidgeting with the soft blanket. “But there―” and Lois turns back to the image of the planet, “―is the Capital City, Kandor, where I was born.”
Lois watches the image zoom in, skimming across iced-over mountains toward a glittering city of crystal, so much like the Fortress around them. Gleaming towers and spires reach upward from the center, sparkling with pinkish light. “It's beautiful,” she breathes.
Clark nods. “I know,” he says, a wistful note of sadness in his voice for just a moment. “And there―” he twists the crystal again, beneath her hand, the image zooming out a little, then skimming many miles away to another city, perched at the edge of a great rift and sprawling out along the slopes of another icy mountain, “―is Mount Argo, and Kryptonopolis, where my parents lived and worked. My father, Jor-El, and my mother, Lara, they... they were scientists. My father was on the science council, and―”
Lois squeezes his hand a little tighter, hearing the tightness in his voice. “It's okay, Clark.”
He nods, then goes on, twisting the crystal again to bring the valley into view, “He knew Krypton was in danger, and no one listened to him. But that wasn't what I wanted to show you.” Tipping his chin up just slightly, he motions to the crystalline towers looming up before them. “The Towers of the Elders, that symbolize the coming of peace on Krypton.”
Lois stares in awe of the monoliths, seemingly sculpted out of the native rock, or something else equally spectacular, and then she sees it.
“Your symbol,” she says quietly, still squeezing his hand.
“Yes,” he admits. “It's the Crest of the House of El, the symbol of my family and the ancient glyph for 'hope'. My ancestor, Sor-El, was one of the three Kryptonians that brought about peace, uniting the nations.”
Turning to face Clark more fully, she lifts her other hand to cup his warm cheek, and catches his glittering gaze with hers. “I had no idea. So, when you wear your crest, you're representing hope and peace, literally.”
He blushes again, lips curling up into a tiny smile, and nods, pressing his face into her palm. “That's what I'm going for, anyway.”
Lois can't help a throaty chuckle. “That'd make a great article. It's a good thing you've got such a fantastic PR person on your side.”
Clark's smile turns into a grin and he laughs, gazing back at her. “The best.”
Taking her hand from his, she pulls the crystal out of his loose grip and twists it herself, relieved when the screen goes blank instead of doing something crazy like fast forwarding or skipping to a tour of the Kryptonopolis Zoo, then sets it gently on the table.
Clark smiles back at her, his understanding clear in the sudden deafening silence of the room, the moment hanging in the air, taut with potential, and he pushes the blanket back from her shoulders, sliding his warm hands down her arms to grasp her fingertips as she drops her hand from his face. He stands, guiding her with him, and Lois feels that full-body flush start to return when he leans down to kiss her, his lips hot, soft, and strong against hers.
This time, when she shivers, it isn't from the chill at all, and when he leads her through the doorway to what she discovers is a similarly furnished bedroom, human and cozy and lit with a gentle glow, she finally completely gets it, gets him and what makes him tick, the man born of two worlds, two homes, a unifier in his own right. A bright laugh of epiphany escaping her as they go, admiration and awe and love filling her chest, she follows him gladly.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU/Superman II (with hints of SR)
Pairing: Clark/Lois
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,643
Prompt: For kalalanekent: my take on a deleted scene from SII
Summary: After sharing dinner at the Fortress for the first time, Clark shows Lois something remarkable about where he came from.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Happy Birthday, Lois!! :D I played just a little fast and loose with movie canon here, and couldn't resist a few nods to SR, thanks to my handy copy of the novelization. ^_~ Once again, the Reeveverse bunnies are plentiful and come running at the drop of a prompt. Thank goodness! :p
No Place Like Home
After they finish dinner, Lois isn't sure what to expect from the rest of the evening. She knows she's probably blushing like a damn school girl just thinking about it, but it's pretty clear Clark must have a... a bedroom here, since he's got a dining room, of sorts. And why shouldn't her thoughts take her to that conclusion, anyway? It's not like she hasn't been on a dinner date before, and there's a protocol to these things, even if Clark might not be particularly aware of it.
So it's no surprise when Clark gets up from the table, takes her hand, and says, “There's something I want to show you,” gesturing with a nod toward another part of the Fortress.
Lois feels the mad blush moving down her body all the way to her toes, and can't help a shiver in the chilly air. “Okay,” she breathes, standing and following him, her fingers tucked into his large, warm hand.
What she doesn't expect as they pass through a smaller hallway off of the main chamber is to find herself in what seems to be a large living room, with an old, comfy-looking couch along one crystalline wall, and other regular furniture placed... well, normally. Where she'd expected to find a spartan bedroom with a cocoon-pod-nest for a bed with silver lamé sheets, here they were in a homey space, about as far from alien as it could be.
“Clark?” she asks lamely, stopping in the middle of the room as he moves to do something at a crystalline control panel on the wall opposite the couch.
He looks back at her with a quirky little smirk, sliding a small crystal into a slot, and suddenly the wall seems to come to life with soft, muted light, glowing from within like some sort of TV screen. “You can have a seat, Lois. The couch won't bite,” he says, his eyes alight with a mischief she can't help but be a little wary of, even if it thrills her to the core. “I'll be right back.”
Sinking down onto the cushions―and God, it is comfy!―she suppresses another shiver as he disappears through a crystal door that seems to slide back into the wall. It's then that the lit-up wall across the room seems to shimmer, and an image resolves itself, comes into focus.
A planet, hanging in space, shines with pinkish light reflected from a red sun.
She knows at once that it has to be Krypton, and her heart seizes up in her chest, a breath caught in her throat.
It's Clark's... home.
“Are you okay?”
And he's standing in the open doorway, changed out of his cape and tights into a white t-shirt, jeans, and socks, looking at her with a concerned expression, his hair falling down over his forehead and almost over his eyes, the curl obscured.
It's so much more like the Clark she knows, so much a middle ground between the hero and the hayseed, that she can't help a sharp breath in at the sight. “I....” she starts, then shakes her head, feeling like an idiot. Of course he's really in-between the two personas; he'd probably go nuts if it was all an act. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
Nodding with an almost self-deprecating short laugh, he steps out of the doorway, the panel closing behind him, and joins her on the couch. “You're cold,” he observes as he picks up a piece of crystal from the coffee table and seems to twist it in his hand.
“Um,” she starts again, blinking as the light in the room dims and the image on the wall screen unfreezes, the planet looming closer and closer, “a little.” And she's surprised when Clark pulls an old-fashioned granny square afghan down from the back of the couch and drapes it around her shoulders, sliding closer to her as he lets his arm rest around her back, almost protectively.
The warmth of the blanket and Clark's mere proximity is so welcome, she halfway sighs with it, burrowing back into the blanket and his light embrace. “Thanks. If I'd known it was gonna be so chilly I'd have worn a sweater or something.”
Clark laughs a little, more amused and apologetic this time, gently squeezing her. “Sorry. The temperature controls in here don't go very high. Krypton was a cold planet, so we evolved to have a higher body heat and didn't need warmer environments.”
Lois nods, glancing at him for a moment before turning her attention back to the screen. “It looks cold,” she says, stating the obvious like a moron. A deep breath, and she shakes herself slightly again. “So, is this like home movies, or what? With a crystal remote control?”
To her surprise, Clark actually blushes beside her, ducking his head a little. “Um, yeah, I suppose. I thought it might help to show you where I came from, even if I don't remember it.”
“How long―?” she asks, not quite able to complete the question as she realizes she doesn't even know when he came here.
Clark stiffens for a brief moment, then lets out a slow breath, twisting the crystal in his hand once more. “Krypton was destroyed when I was just an infant. My parents sent me here to save me from their fate.”
Without another thought besides shock and crushing sadness for him, Lois reaches over and squeezes his hand over the crystal in his grip. “I'm sorry.”
He smiles just fractionally, giving her a sideways glance, then nods toward the screen. “It's okay. Like I said, I don't remember it. I was found by the Kents when I was about three, and they raised me in Smallville. Small town America and all that. I was very lucky,” he finishes explaining, the fingers of his hand curled around Lois's arm fidgeting with the soft blanket. “But there―” and Lois turns back to the image of the planet, “―is the Capital City, Kandor, where I was born.”
Lois watches the image zoom in, skimming across iced-over mountains toward a glittering city of crystal, so much like the Fortress around them. Gleaming towers and spires reach upward from the center, sparkling with pinkish light. “It's beautiful,” she breathes.
Clark nods. “I know,” he says, a wistful note of sadness in his voice for just a moment. “And there―” he twists the crystal again, beneath her hand, the image zooming out a little, then skimming many miles away to another city, perched at the edge of a great rift and sprawling out along the slopes of another icy mountain, “―is Mount Argo, and Kryptonopolis, where my parents lived and worked. My father, Jor-El, and my mother, Lara, they... they were scientists. My father was on the science council, and―”
Lois squeezes his hand a little tighter, hearing the tightness in his voice. “It's okay, Clark.”
He nods, then goes on, twisting the crystal again to bring the valley into view, “He knew Krypton was in danger, and no one listened to him. But that wasn't what I wanted to show you.” Tipping his chin up just slightly, he motions to the crystalline towers looming up before them. “The Towers of the Elders, that symbolize the coming of peace on Krypton.”
Lois stares in awe of the monoliths, seemingly sculpted out of the native rock, or something else equally spectacular, and then she sees it.
“Your symbol,” she says quietly, still squeezing his hand.
“Yes,” he admits. “It's the Crest of the House of El, the symbol of my family and the ancient glyph for 'hope'. My ancestor, Sor-El, was one of the three Kryptonians that brought about peace, uniting the nations.”
Turning to face Clark more fully, she lifts her other hand to cup his warm cheek, and catches his glittering gaze with hers. “I had no idea. So, when you wear your crest, you're representing hope and peace, literally.”
He blushes again, lips curling up into a tiny smile, and nods, pressing his face into her palm. “That's what I'm going for, anyway.”
Lois can't help a throaty chuckle. “That'd make a great article. It's a good thing you've got such a fantastic PR person on your side.”
Clark's smile turns into a grin and he laughs, gazing back at her. “The best.”
Taking her hand from his, she pulls the crystal out of his loose grip and twists it herself, relieved when the screen goes blank instead of doing something crazy like fast forwarding or skipping to a tour of the Kryptonopolis Zoo, then sets it gently on the table.
Clark smiles back at her, his understanding clear in the sudden deafening silence of the room, the moment hanging in the air, taut with potential, and he pushes the blanket back from her shoulders, sliding his warm hands down her arms to grasp her fingertips as she drops her hand from his face. He stands, guiding her with him, and Lois feels that full-body flush start to return when he leans down to kiss her, his lips hot, soft, and strong against hers.
This time, when she shivers, it isn't from the chill at all, and when he leads her through the doorway to what she discovers is a similarly furnished bedroom, human and cozy and lit with a gentle glow, she finally completely gets it, gets him and what makes him tick, the man born of two worlds, two homes, a unifier in his own right. A bright laugh of epiphany escaping her as they go, admiration and awe and love filling her chest, she follows him gladly.
~*~*~*~