A/N: This story takes place between episodes 10x14 "Masquerade" and 10x15 "Fortune." It's the longest of the collection (so far) and it's also by far the most adult. So if that isn't your thing, it might be a good idea to skip this one.

She hates Valentine's Day. Like really, actually loathes it. Because historically speaking, it's never gone well for her.

That weird Bonnie and Clyde thing that she doesn't completely remember had transpired on Valentine's Day a few years ago—thank God that tattoo had only been temporary—and last year... God, she doesn't even want to think about last year and her June Cleaver fantasy gone horribly wrong. (Even if she's secretly a little bit pleased that Mrs. Kent had hidden away a few extra copies of that bogus engagement announcement in the attic just for laughs.

Not to mention that she'd lost her virginity to Wes Keenan on Valentine's Day her junior year of high school in the most cheesy, terrible God-awful Valentine's Day cliché of all time, complete with red rose petals covering her bed, a giant stuffed teddy bear, and her father walking in on them, grounding her for three months, and forbidding her from seeing Wes again. Conveniently, Wes had been transferred to another base the following week.

She'd always thought Wes was lucky that her father liked him so much. If it had been anyone else, the General probably would have shot him on the spot.

So, yes. Lois hates Valentine's Day. For good reason. But she knows Clark and she knows he has something wonderful planned so she's trying to think of a way to actually enjoy the holiday for once. Hopefully with as few repercussions as possible.

Luckily, Chloe's return to Metropolis from wherever the hell she's been for the past few months had been almost perfectly timed. And now that she and Oliver are finally official (Facebook and all!), it seems like the perfect opportunity to enlist her cousin's help to find the perfect Valentine's Day gift for her fiancé.

Lois strides purposefully into the bistro with her coat slung over her arm and her lips pressed tightly together. She's on a mission. No one seeing her this morning could deny that. She spots Chloe instantly, settled into a table in the back corner, a plate of French toast and a copy of the Daily Planet in front of her.

Lois sits down across from her cousin and folds her hands together. "I have to do something amazing for Clark for Valentine's Day this year."

Chloe looks up, eyes wide in surprise. "Good morning, Lois. How are you? Brunch?" She holds her hands wide to the restaurant.

"You know I'm always down for a good brunch." She takes the menu and peruses her choices. A mimosa is definitely in order and she's tells their server as much when he comes to take her order. She also orders coffee, pancakes, hash browns, bacon, toast, and two eggs, over-easy.

Chloe glances at her. "You okay?"

"Hardly. This is serious, Chlo." She sighs exasperatedly. "I am in desperation mode here. V-Day is tomorrow and I still have no idea what to get Clark."

Chloe shrugs and lazily turns the paper to its front and folds it closed. "Just put on one of your costumes and lie in bed for a while. Scream 'help' if you have to. He'll find you eventually." She grins. "Anyway, I thought you hated Valentine's Day."

"I do. Did," Lois corrects automatically. "I did. But now that Clark and I are engaged, I'm trying to be more positive about the whole thing. Plus, you know how ridiculously romantic Clark is... He probably has this whole big ordeal planned and..."

Chloe ducks her head and studies her fingernails.

"Oh, my God..." Lois breathes. "You know. You know what he's planning, don't you?"

"I have no idea," Chloe responds, but she doesn't meet Lois's eyes.

"I have known you for literally one-hundred percent of your life. You can't lie to me. What does he have planned?"

There's a brief reprieve as Lois's food arrives and she shovels some egg into her mouth, but then she turns back to Chloe. "What is he planning?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy." Chloe shakes her head. "But I'll tell you this much: you are marrying the sweetest man in the entire world. You're really lucky, Lo. Just relax and enjoy it."

"You're right..." Lois chews her toast, swallows, and takes a long sip of her mimosa. "But what about you? I thought since you were all billionaire-boyfriend-having now, you'd be giddy at the thought of Valentine's Day."

Chloe shudders. "No. Ollie and I have decided to stay in tomorrow night. Considering our last night out ended with us kidnapped and in chains—and I don't mean the sexy kind—I think we're due for a quiet evening at Watchtower."

"Fair enough. Will you help me shop for Clark anyway? You know him better than anyone else."

"Oh, I can tell you exactly what he wants for Valentine's Day—" She pauses while Lois looks up at her expectantly. "You. Preferably naked or scantily clad."

To this, Lois sets down her fork and folds her hands over her stomach. "But we have sex all the time."

"Really didn't need to hear that."

But Lois, unperturbed, continues. "So I just need to make it different... Special... Spice things up a little."

"Oliver likes toys," Chloe offers dryly, because she's almost convinced that Lois isn't actually paying any attention to anything she's saying. The look she gets in return for her comment, however, proves her wrong. "What? Just offering suggestions."

Lois considers this for a moment but then shakes her head. She loves Clark dearly, and there may come a time for that, but their relationship is still new. Moving that quickly, well... She can only imagine the look on her boy scout's face if she pulled out her vibrator.

"Well, Clark's a little more... Vanilla than Oliver, but I think maybe you're onto something with the whole costume thing." Lois picks up her fork and digs into her pancakes. "Brunch up, cuz. We've got shopping to do."

She finds the panties and matching bustier in a boutique in Downtown Metropolis, just a few blocks away from the Daily Planet building and she can hardly believe her luck. She chews her lip for a moment, letting the garment swing back and forth from her finger while she considers it.

It's perfect.

The lace is dark blue and the shield—his shield, which is really some kind of family crest apparently (she's still learning about all the Kryptonian stuff)—is emblazoned on the front of the underwear in shimmering red crystals.

Merchandise with the Blur's logo has been popping up all over Metropolis for months. Chloe had left a coffee mug at the Talon and it now resides at the Kent Farm and Lois takes her coffee in it every morning. Lois had purchased a Blur key chain for herself when Clark officially asked her to move in with him and gifted her a door key of her very own (which, of course, she'd had before, but it coming from Clark felt so momentous that she felt the need to commemorate it somehow). Even in Washinton, Mrs. Kent proudly sported Blur-chendise that she'd picked up on her last visit to Metropolis.

But Clark hated that even though people were desperate to show their support for him in the face of the still very popular anti-hero movement, someone was still profiting from it.

"The Blur doesn't exist to help some corporation make money, Lois," he'd ranted to her one evening when she'd pulled her new Blur t-shirt out of the dryer and slipped it on before bed. "I do this because I'm helping people."

Deep down, she understands. And if he ever chose to go public, maybe they could work something out. Find an agent, trademark the logo, and donate all the money to charity. Whatever.

So while she's dying to see the look on Clark's face when he finds her lying across their bed in this get up, with her red stilettos to complete the effect, she can't shake the feeling that it might just make him really, really angry. And the last thing she wants to do is pick a fight with her fiancé on Valentine's Day. It isn't exactly the best way to go about changing your epically bad relationship with the holiday.

Then Chloe gasps behind her and dissolves into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, my God, you have to buy that."

"I don't know..."

"What? Why? That's... Oh, my God... I can't." Chloe shuffles through the hangers on the rack. "You think they have any Green Arrow ones back here?"

Lois studies the bustier and gives the straps a firm tug. Of course, there's not a fabric on earth that can withstand Clark's hands when he gets excited, but these seem sturdy enough. And Clark does love her in blue... He says it brings out the green in her eyes... She trails her fingers along the rhinestones that glint in the fluorescent store lighting. Candles by the bed would set them off nicely and would be just like their first time at the farm...

Chloe scoffs. "You aren't still seriously thinking about that, right? Just buy the damn thing."

Lois shrugs. "He'll be mad."

"He'll get over it as soon as he gets it off you. It's perfect." Then she holds up a green thong. "Do you think we could bedazzle this ourselves?"

It is perfect. And Clark's never been able to stay mad at her for too long, especially when she pouts and kisses the shell of his ear and whispers his name as he slides inside of her.

So she ignores the warning bells that still echo in her head and plops the lingerie down on the counter.

The saleswoman grins up at her. "Oh, your man's a fan, too?" She leans in conspiratorially, so close that Lois can smell the cinnamon of her gum. "My Tony, he can't get enough of me in these. He likes to pretend he's the Blur and he's savin' me from somethin'." The woman winks at Lois as she scans the tag and processes Lois's credit card.

Chloe, meanwhile, laughs hysterically.

Clark has taken up his usual perch on the edge of the bathtub as he watches her wash her face that night. It's been months and she still doesn't understand his unusual desire to watch her get ready for bed every night, but she loves the look that he gets on his face when he watches her remove her makeup and being with Clark is far better than being apart from him so she never complains about it.

"So what did you and Chloe do today?" he asks as she squeezes toothpaste onto her brush.

Lois shrugs. "Oh, shopped mostly. Ate way too much. Stopped off for pedicures." And waxes, but she isn't going to tell him that. Instead she whirls around and lifts a foot into his lap. "Wanna see my pretty red toes?"

"Very nice." He studies them for a moment and then rubs the arch of her foot, which elicits a low moan from her. He stops.

She narrows her eyes, turns, and spits into the sink. "Tease."

"So what did you buy?" Clark continues, coming to stand beside her, and reaches for his toothbrush. "Anything exciting?"

"Actually, yes. A couple of blouses for work, some amazing new pumps..." She slathers on her moisturizer. "And a Valentine's Day gift."

"A Valentine's Day gift? For me?"

She scoffs. "No, Clark. For my other fiancé. You may have met him. He's about your height, about your build, dresses in primary colors. Goes by the Blur..."

Clark spits the toothpaste into the sink and rinses his mouth before he kisses her cheek. "I thought you hated Valentine's Day."

"I admit that in the past my feelings toward the holiday have been less than jovial..." She shrugs. "But now I have you."

He smiles at her. "Can I at least have a hint? I mean, Valentine's Day is on a Monday this year, and Mondays are so hard anyway... I might be too tired after work tomorrow to do anything."

It's tempting. It had been so hard to sneak the bag into the farm while he was still at work, wash and dry the lingerie, and hide it in her side of the closet under an old sweater she hasn't worn in ages. But she has big plans for that underwear, and she absolutely cannot risk him seeing it until the perfect moment.

But she isn't convinced. "No way. You'll just have to wait." She clears her throat and pauses in the doorway. "But you could, maybe... Put that x-ray vision of yours to good use tomorrow at work." She shrugs and feigns innocence. "If you wanted."

She's barely taken two steps out the door before Clark's arms are around her waist, carrying her towards the bedroom.

She wakes up alone the next morning, which usually bothers her, but today is exactly what she needs. When she focuses on it, she vaguely remembers Clark kissing her goodbye and telling her he was going on morning rounds (he's been so on edge with this Darkseid thing) and would be back by seven to pick her up for work.

It's earlier than she would prefer when she peels herself from the warmth of their bed and trudges into the bathroom, but Lois is determined to make Clark's Valentine's Day a special one. So she climbs into the shower and shaves her legs and spends extra time curling her hair and putting on her makeup. For fun, she adds a deep red lipstick because it is Valentine's Day, after all, and why the hell not?

In their bedroom, Lois pulls on the panties and bustier and adds a red garter belt she'd just so happened to have stashed away in a drawer, saving for a rainy day. Then she dresses in Clark's favorite of her skirts and one of her new blouses (the red silk one with a plunging v-neckline) before she steps into her black stilettos and examines her silhouette in the full-length mirror. Perfect.

Granted, the lingerie isn't really meant to be worn under anything, but when your fiancé has x-ray vision, who could resist tempting him all day long? Erring on the side of caution, she tucks an extra pair of panties and a red lace bra into her work bag, just in case Clark gets ahead of himself and rips them off her as he's been known to do. The Planet, they've found, is full of nooks and crannies to which they can escape when the news is slow and there's been too much time since they last touched one another.

Clark returns just after seven and barely registers her sitting on a barstool in the kitchen nibbling on a muffin before he speeds upstairs and returns freshly showered, shaven, and dressed for the day.

He takes an apple from the bowl on the island and kisses her cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ms. Lane."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Kent," she responds as she turns and straights his—red, she notes with glee—tie. "Don't forget to send your mother flowers."

"Already done. A dozen red roses will be delivered at ten a.m. And I already texted Oliver to remind him that Chloe's favorite flowers are tulips, as he requested last week." He bites into his apple. "My good deeds for the day are done, which means I can now focus entirely on you."

Lois studies him. There's something downright lascivious in the way he's eating his apple, spreading his lips across the skin before sinking his teeth into the flesh, then sucking the juices from the fruit before chewing and swallowing.

He's such a tease.

That's half of why Lois was so determined to wear her lingerie all day—to tempt him. Mondays are always busy for them. She spends at least half her day on the phone with the court clerk, trying to get the weekend's arrest records sent over before eventually giving up, marching down to the courthouse, and printing them out herself. Yeah. She's really popular with the courthouse staff.

She's almost surprised that with their busy work schedules he hadn't tried to come home early from rounds this morning for a round of quick, pre-work Valentine's Day sex. That would be a perfectly appropriate reason for sex, she rationalizes. Truth be told, they find almost any occasion the appropriate one for sex anymore. (Her personal favorite so far has been "Damn, That was Exceptionally Good Mexican Food, Especially the Guacamole" sex.)

"By the way..." Clark finishes his apple and tosses the core into the trashcan from across the room. A tease and a showoff. If only he weren't so damn charming. "If that's one of your new blouses, I'm a fan."

"Oh. It is. Thanks." She'd planned on waiting it out, on pretending like everything was totally and completely normal until he couldn't take it anymore and whisked her away to the roof or a janitor's closet and tore her clothes off, but her curiosity is getting the better of her, especially now that she knows that he's actually paying attention to what she's wearing today. She simply has to know if he's taken a peek yet.

Lois clears her throat as innocently as possible. "So... Have you, uh..." She narrows her eyes and mimics the expression he gets when he uses his power.

Clark grins cheekily. "Oh, no. It's tempting, believe me, but umm... Not yet. I thought I'd wait until we get to work."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Because otherwise we'd never get there."

She raises her eyebrows at him and sighs. "It's going to be a long day..."

"Yep."

She has to give credit where credit is due—he makes it to lunch before he grabs her wrist and pulls her into the janitor's closet under the stairs and crushes his mouth to hers.

"Are you clocked out?" he whispers against her pulse point.

She barely manages a nod, dizzy from the heat of his mouth on her neck and his hands on her back, holding her body close to his.

"Good." He kisses her hard and his hands tug at her blouse until it's free of her skirt and he can slip his hands underneath. He pulls and grins at her away after his palms spread across the lace bustier. "Naughty."

"I'm guessing you finally saw your present then?" Lois asks, grabbing for his tie and tugging him back toward her.

Clark nods. "I did. But it feels better than I imagined... I can't begin to think what it will look like in person..."

He kisses her once more and then his lips move along her jaw and down her throat to rest in the hollow of her throat as his fingers work open the buttons of her blouse. She's grateful that he's taking his time and being careful. She really likes this top.

Finally, he pushes her shirt off her shoulders and kisses the skin just between her breasts. "God, you're beautiful," he whispers, and then flicks his tongue over her lace-covered right nipple before bringing his mouth back to hers and grasping her hips tightly.

He presses her against the brick wall and rocks his hips forward just the tiniest bit, just enough that she can feel his hardness against her thigh, straining against the zipper of his slacks, ready for her. Her thighs part of their own accord as she twists her fingers in his hair and kisses him deeper, trying to draw him into her in any way she can.

Clark's hands slide to the back of her skirt and unzip it and it pools around her ankles when it falls. She pulls back from him to kick the garment away from her and he catches the flash of the red rhinestones that adorn the front of the panties.

Lois watches his reaction. His eyes, dark and half-lidded with lust, widen briefly as he takes in the logo—his logo—and then he smiles wider than she's seen him smile in weeks and his body presses against hers.

"Clark, please," she breathes into his mouth. "I want to feel you..."

He cups her sex with one broad hand while the other slips the straps of the bustier from her shoulders and frees her breasts from the lace cups.

Clark glances down at her and there's something different in his gaze that she can't pinpoint. But she doesn't concentrate on it for too long because he turns her around, braces her hands against the rough wall, and thrusts into her from behind.

Oh. My. God.

She's too taken aback to do anything but gasp and moan and reach behind her to claw desperately for him, but he brushes away her hand and grasps her hips firmly as he pumps into her.

What really surprises her, though, are the things he's saying to her.

It bothered her for a long time that Clark was so quiet during their lovemaking. She's always been rather loud. Clark, on the other hand, is all whispers and moans and low grunts. She's done everything she can think of to get him to be more vocal with her, but he's never taken the hint. But today, in the Daily Planet janitorial supply closet under the stairs of all the places, the stream of language coming from Clark Kent's mouth as he fucks her—and there is no flowery language she could substitute here, because he is literally fucking her—is even making Lois blush a little.

"Damn, Smallville..." She pants. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

He reaches around her and grabs both breasts, rolling each erect nipple between his fingers. "I'm not interested in talking about—shit, Lois—my mother while I'm balls deep inside you."

She whimpers wantonly as he angles his pelvis and somehow thrusts even deeper into her. She can't focus on anything but his fingers on her breasts, pulling and pinching in the most delicious way and the sounds of his heavy panting as he pushes her further into the wall. Her palms feel bruised and scraped from the brick. She'll be lucky if they aren't bleeding by the time they're finished.

"Look at me, Lois," he says after a few minutes of sweet torture, his voice strained as his pace increases and he drops a hand from her breast to rub rough circles on her clit. "I want to watch you when you come. And you will come, harder than you ever have in your life."

She turns to him over her right shoulder, her hair sticking to the sheen of sweat that coats her face, and he, in tandem, he gives her nipple and clit particularly aggressive squeezes.

And she immediately shatters with a strangled sob. She falls apart, becomes a useless heap of bone and flesh. A thoroughly fucked Lois Lane in the closet under the stairs. If it weren't for Clark's hands on her hips, she'd collapse right there.

"Now say my name," he tells her withdrawing so slowly that her eyes roll back in her head. "Say my name and tell me what you want me to do next."

"I want..." She shudders as the aftershock of her orgasm ripples through her when he pushes back inside. "God, Clark, I want you to come inside me."

He pauses. "Don't call me Clark."

She turns to him, confused, because of his strange request. She had accidentally called him the Blur once during sex and that had opened a whole brooding side of Clark she wasn't prepared to deal with. But ever since then, she'd been particularly careful to keep his superhero side out of the bedroom. Well, until the whole panties thing. God, maybe this was a terrible idea after all.

But then he fills her completely and kneads her breast again and she bites her lip. "What should... Oh, Jesus..." Another ball of pleasure is winding itself between her legs, spurred on by his fingers that still lazily stroke her in just the right spot. "What do you want me to call you?"

"Kal," he says. "Oh, fuck, Lois, I'm gonna..."

"Yes..." she encourages him. "Yes, Kal. Please..." The name feels strange on her tongue, but isn't this what she's wanted? For Clark to tell her what he wants? For him to finally share his fantasies openly with her? She pushes her hips back into him, spurring him on to his completion. "Please, Kal, please. Come inside me. Let me feel you."

His hips snap once more and then his fingers dig into her flesh as he empties inside her and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain. She knows without a doubt that there will be tiny half-moon lesions where his fingernails have cut into her skin. It doesn't bother her, really. Scratches are a normal part of hot sex, but Clark's usually so careful, always so worried and aware that he can hurt her.

Clark pulls out of her almost immediately and tugs her panties off with a swift flick of his wrist. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips his fly before securing the underwear in his pants pocket and winking at her.

"I'll just hang onto these. God, you're..." He grins and shrugs, like he can't find the exact word he's looking for. "You're amazing. Look, I had Valentine's Day plans for us, but they were stupid. Give me a few hours. Let me get everything perfect... And then..." He reaches for her, pulls her into his chest, kisses her deeply. And even though she knows it's wrong because something's definitely not right about this Clark—Kal?—she can't deny the zap of electricity she feels between her legs.

He presses his lips to her ear. "Tonight, I'm going to fuck you until you can't see straight. I want your juices dripping down my face and my hands and my dick. I want you on your knees in front of me, sucking my cock until I come in the back of your throat. I want to tie you to our bed and blindfold you and drive you absolutely crazy. I'm going to bring you so close to the edge again and again that you'll be begging me to let you come."

He kisses her once more, then he grabs his jacket from the floor and super-speeds out of the door, leaving Lois half-naked, alone, and very, very confused.

He doesn't return after lunch, which isn't all that strange because sometimes things come up and he has to take care of them. What is different is that he hasn't texted her to tell her where he is or when he'll be home, and she can't find reports of the Red Blue Blur anywhere in the world.

There have been, however, three jewelry store robberies in Metropolis, and all report missing diamond jewelry of some kind. She glances at her engagement ring. Clark talks often about how he wants to buy her earrings to match before their wedding, but she knows how much he makes and that he spent way more than the traditional three-month salary on her ring. But Clark doesn't rob jewelry stores. And he wouldn't. He stops robberies, for Christ's sake.

He also doesn't take her from behind in a janitor's closet at work before stealing her panties and telling her all the dirty things he's doing to do to her later. But he had. The more she thinks about it, the more she's absolutely sure there's something wrong with Clark.

She keeps an ear on the police scanner, waiting for him to sweep in and save the day, just like he always does. But instead, five boutiques and all three of the stores where they'd registered for their wedding are robbed and in the pit of her stomach she just knows.

But she doesn't know what to do.

"Lois!" Tess marches over to her desk a little after two. "Where the hell is Clark?"

Lois sighs. "That's a question you and I would both like answered."

Tess narrows her eyes. "Everything okay?"

"I don't..." She rubs the bridge of her nose. "I'm not sure."

"Let me know. And if you need to take off early..."

Lois nods her thanks before she gathers her things, and calls Chloe as soon as she enters the elevator. "Hey, Chlo... Sorry to bug you when you're with Ollie, but... I think we have a problem."

It turns out that their version of pillow talk—Clark filling in the sketchier details from certain unexplainable events from Lois's early years in Smallville while his fingers tangle in her hair—has paid off. Chloe confirms her suspicions of red kryptonite over a brief phone call and together, they form a plan. It breaks Lois's heart to think about causing Clark so much pain, but she needs her fiancé back, the real one, not Kal, the asshole who'd stolen her panties and left her alone to go rob jewelry stores because he thought it would turn her on.

"Kal?" She walks into the farm cautiously, praying that he hasn't returned yet and that she still has time to gather the glowing chunk of green kryptonite she'll need to turn him back into the man she loves. Receiving no response, Lois tosses her things on the kitchen counter and heads for the barn loft, where she tears through Clark's trunk for the lead box she knows resides there. It's her only hope. How she'll hide it from him, she has no idea.

She's standing in the loft, box in hand, trying to formulate a plan, when she feels the air change. She knows before he speaks that he's behind her.

"You're home early," he says slyly, climbing the stairs slowly. "You couldn't wait for round two either."

Lois folds her arms behind her back, securing the box, and turns to face him, plastering a smile on her lips. "Well, it is Valentine's Day after all... And after a performance like that, who could resist an encore?"

Kal studies her intently and her heart pounds in her ears. She struggles to keep her breath even and steady. "Lois... What's in the box?"

"What box?" She takes a step backward and trips over the edge of the rug. He's behind her in an instant and he catches her, but he also pries the lead box from her fingers and her heart sinks as he tosses the box from the loft. She hears it land with a thud in the distance.

He tuts at her. "Tricky, tricky..." In one swift movement, Kal lifts her in his arms and descends the stairs. "I know what you're doing, but you see, I kind of like me this way. I just feel so much more..." He sighs. "Free."

Lois squirms in his arms, but his grip is like a vice. She feels more bruises bloom along her thighs. "You may like yourself this way, but personally, I think you're kind of an asshole. I much prefer Clark."

"That's where you're confused, baby," he murmurs, pulling open the kitchen door with one hand. "I am Clark. I'm just Clark with no inhibitions. I'm what Clark's like without all those pesky morals in the way."

He stops in the kitchen and eyes the staircase. Then, without a word, he sets her on the kitchen island, clears it of all the appliances, fruit bowls, and abandoned, half-empty cups and mugs, and climbs on top of her.

Kal moves his body sinuously over hers, his hips pinning hers to the counter, his hands roaming over her neck and torso. "Can you feel how hard I am for you already?" He takes in a deep breath and runs his tongue up her neck. "God, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I left the Planet."

"Those jewelry stores," she gasps. "Did you rob them for me?"

He nods. "Of course. You deserve everything. I couldn't give it to you on a reporter's salary. But now..." Kal kisses her deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth, so different from Clark's tender, gentle kisses that transport her to a different world. This one brings her crashing back to reality. "I can give you everything, Lois. We can have everything."

She nods. "Yes, Kal. Everything."

His hands slide under her top to the clasp of the bra she'd changed into after their lunchtime rendezvous. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," she murmurs, running her hands down his back. She digs her fingernails into his ass. She's always loved his ass. "Kal, please."

He suckles on her neck as he kneads her breasts under her shirt. "God, I love your tits."

"Yes..." Lois's fingers make purchase with the button of his pants and she feigns trouble with it with her right while her left snakes into his left pocket, reaching for the underwear she knows must still be tucked in there.

Chloe had seemed confident that if getting him close to the green kryptonite didn't work, there was always the possibility that simply removing the source would have the same effect. It wouldn't be as immediate and, of course, the panties would have to be destroyed as soon as possible to make sure that they couldn't reinfect him. Jesus, she's never celebrating Valentine's Day again.

She finds the lace bundle and yanks it from his pocket as his thumb and index finger tighten painfully over her nipple.

Lois cries out and Clark sits up, looking at her with wide blue eyes. The lust is gone, the darkness of desire she's grown to know so well is gone. All that's left is confusion and embarrassment. She's so relieved that she tosses the panties over his shoulder into the living room and launches herself at him.

"Clark? Is it really you?"

His arms are strong around her waist and his breathing is ragged and shallow. "It's me," he pants. "Oh, my God, Lois, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Clark spends the rest of the night fixing his mistakes in Metropolis. He returns the stolen jewelry (and clothes and household appliances) and offers to work an overnight shift at the Planet to make up his absence to Tess. She declines his offer for the time being, saying that she figures he has more apologizing to do to Lois.

Clark insists she see Emil to ensure that the scratches on her hips don't require stitches (they don't) and that the bruises on her thighs aren't more dangerous hematomas (they aren't). After her checkup, Lois spends a few hours at Watchtower with Oliver and Chloe, which she knows doesn't make either one of them incredibly happy, but she just doesn't feel right being alone at the farm right now. It's not that she doesn't trust Clark, because even in his red k infected state, he seemed like he genuinely cared for her, but she's just not sure she's ready to be alone. Together, the three of them watch Lois's panties burn.

Still, when Clark arrives a little after eleven, she knows she's overstayed her welcome, so she hugs her cousin and Oliver goodbye and takes Clark's arm and allows him to escort her to his truck parked on the street.

Their drive back to Smallville is silent and tense. Chloe had told her that they weren't sure if Clark always remembered exactly what happened during his episodes or just bits and pieces, but it seems that he remembers this one perfectly. He keeps looking over at her, blushing furiously, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, and focusing on the road.

Finally, as they pull up to the farm, he clears his throat. "I hope you don't mind, but... I went ahead and, umm... Well. I thought you deserved your Valentine's Day present."

She sighs. "Clark, no offense, but after today, I'm just about Valentinesed out."

He nods. "Okay. Well. It's already... Yeah."

"Fine." Lois shakes her head and climbs out of the vehicle. Honestly, she just wants to go upstairs, take a long, hot bath and forget that today ever happened. Tess had already told her to take tomorrow off if she needed it.

When she walks into the house, however, her breath is completely taken away. "Oh, Clark."

He shrugs sheepishly. "I know it's probably lame, but... I had to improvise."

She wanders around the kitchen island, taking in the smells emanating from all her favorite ethnic dishes. Her stomach grumbles insistently and she realizes for the first time that she hasn't eaten since breakfast.

Clark follows her closely. "I had dinner reservations, but obviously had to cancel... So I thought this might be an acceptable alternative."

She turns to him. "Acceptable? This is amazing."

He grins, a true megawatt Clark Kent smile. "Well, I got champagne from Reins, bread from Paris, pasta from Rome, nachos from Piedras Negras, egg rolls from Fujian, sushi from Osaka, and churros and hot chocolate from Madrid for dessert."

"What about the roses?" She nods to the vase of deep pink flowers in the center of the island.

"American Beauties, just like you."

"You spoil me," she says softly, shaking her head at the spread before her.

"I hurt you today." He hangs his head. "I actually did the one thing I swore I'd never do and I hurt you."

"You weren't yourself."

"There's no excuse for what I did."

"Clark." She grips his face tightly and forces him to look at her. "I'm fine. We are fine."

"The way I talked to you..." He turns out of her grasp and covers his mouth with his hand. "I can't believe I said those things."

"It's okay to have fantasies, Clark."

He shakes his head adamantly. "It shouldn't have been like that."

"So we'll work on the delivery," she acknowledges. "But... What you—Kal—said... About him being you, having your desires just without the inhibitions... If you really feel those things, if you really love my tits—"

"Lois!" Clark blushes.

She chuckles and grabs his hand. "It's okay to tell me those things. It's okay to tell me what you want. Sometimes I think you spend so much time trying to satisfy me that you forget about yourself."

He stares at her for a few moments and she can't read his expression. Finally, he sighs. "I love you so much."

"I know," she says. "And I knew you loved me when you were on the red k. And I love you, too."

He brushes her jaw with his thumb. "You should eat."

"I will. There's just one thing that I want to do first." Lois kisses him softly and trails her lips down his neck before she drops to her knees in front of him and reaches for his zipper.

"No." Clark grabs her elbow and tugs.

"Tell me what you want me to do," she whispers, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I want you to eat dinner. Get up."

"Clark. You've never let me. Now, tell me what you want."

He sighs and rubs his temples. "I want to... To feel your mouth around me." He says it so quickly and quietly that she almost misses it, but she works his zipper downwards anyway.

"Okay."

She figures it's as good a start as any.

And, she decides, fifteen minutes later after Clark finishes in her mouth and she swallows every last bit of his seed and then kisses him deeply, maybe Valentine's Day isn't the worst holiday after all.

A/N: As much as I love season 10, I wish they had given us two things: a red k episode where Lois and Clark are together and a Valentine's Day episode where they're together intimately. This was my attempt to explore both of those issues at once. I hope it was enjoyable. Thanks for reading and happy Valentine's Day!