AN: Here is part one of my Christmas Clois fic that was supposed to be a one shot! I got going and I just couldn't stop! This is set in my "Shadow of Father"and "Being Jason White" timeline, which I think will surprise those of you familiar with those fics. If you haven't read my other stories, never fear. All you need to know is that after "Superman Returns" Lois went ahead and married Richard. Jason's relationship with Supes was a difficult one. Lois didn't find out Clark was Supes until Jason was an adult, and needless to say, she was pretty angry at him for a very long time. Jason is now married to a woman named Kate and they have a son, Eric.

Many thanks to htbthomas for encouraging me to post this even though it is mammoth in size. To sillybella who made me remember the emotion. And to Hellish Red Devil for sticking with me through Vampires and Superheros.

Part One

There comes a point in a woman's life when she just has to toss reason to the wind and let her heart take charge of things. It doesn't matter that her brain continually reminds her of everything that has come before this moment and how painful the past was. What matters is that she has finally realized that all the thinking, all the reasoning, all the "logical arguments" she has made in the past are what have brought her to this point. The pain she has felt over the years is a direct result of following her mind and not her heart. And so, the heart wins. The heart is in control.

That's where I was right in that moment. That's where something called life had brought me. Alone in this bed. Alone in the house. Alone in this life. Alone in a season focused on family. My mind told me it was foolish to even consider the options. But my heart knew better, and my heart told me I couldn't live like this any longer. Besides, what did I have to lose?

I looked up at the blank ceiling and exhaled a deep breath. What did I have to lose? Why had I waited this long to do anything about the situation? There was a good answer to that. I hadn't done anything so far because he hadn't done anything. And there was something I could lose if I actually spoke up and made my feelings known. I could lose him. Granted, I didn't really have him right this second, but at least I had the idea of him. I had the possibility of him. And if I told him what I wanted and he rejected me…again…then I wouldn't even have the dream of someday having him by my side.

I rolled over and smashed my pillow with my fist, exhaling yet again. My thoughts and emotions were in such a jumble I knew there was no chance that I would sleep tonight. I hadn't slept for the last few nights. I hadn't done anything really but stare at the boxes of Christmas ornaments that should be hanging on a tree. I figured there wasn't much point in putting them up this year. Who would see them other than me? Jason had a home of his own now and he would be spending the holidays there. I knew I could visit them, but it wasn't the same. I wanted someone to share the holiday with here. And I knew exactly who that someone was. Besides, isn't Christmas the time when you are supposed to put the past behind you and learn to move on?

I was afraid of so many things…and yet strangely hopeful at the same time. I was afraid of his rejection, but yet hopeful that he would succumb to my wishes. I was afraid of letting the world know how I felt towards him, and yet hopeful of living a life where I wasn't pretending anymore.

It was frustrating – emotionally and mentally. I was at the end of my rope. The tether was wearing thin. Whatever cliché you could think of, that's how I felt. But worse than that…it was sexually frustrating. To see him nearly every day… to hear his voice… to stand so close to him on the elevator and know the only thing keeping us apart right now was five inches of space and a few layers of clothing…

So frustrating!

I huffed and rolled onto my back once again and glanced over at the clock. It was after midnight and time was up. I couldn't wait any longer. It had to be done. I was sick of waiting for him to make a move. Given everything Jason had to go through to get him to open up about their relationship, I had come to realize that if anyone was going to attempt to get the ball rolling, it would have to be me. I wasn't getting any younger. If I waited much longer, I would be old and decrepit and way past my prime to actually enjoy the experience.

"Clark?" I said out loud to the ceiling. "Can you hear me?" I pursed my lips. "I'm just going to assume that you can hear me – that you are listening. 'Cause if you aren't, then this is a really silly conversation I'm having with empty space."

I licked my lips, gathering up my courage to continue. "I need to talk to you. Tonight. Now, if possible. And it needs to be you. I need Clark here. So, if you aren't busy saving people from dying, then I'd really like…" I didn't know the right way to finish. I would like to see you? I would like you to hold me? I would like to make love to you right here and now before I die of extreme frustration?

"Clark? Please?" I said. And when there was no answer, I pulled the pillow over my face growled in aggravation.

"You realize that it's nearly impossible to suffocate yourself with a pillow."

I sat up straight at the sound of his voice, the pillow falling from my grasp. "What?"

"The pillow," he said, stepping away from the window. "When you would lose consciousness, your grip on the pillow would loosen just enough that a small amount of oxygen would be allowed to reach your mouth and nose. So, it's nearly impossible to kill yourself with a pillow. Just so you know."

"I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"That's too bad."

"Why? Do you want me dead?"

"No, of course not, but if you were in danger, then I'd have to rescue you."

I smiled at him. "Is this your way of flirting?"

In the darkness of the room, I could see that he looked puzzled. "I'm not flirting, Lois. I'm just stating a fact."

"Oh, I was hoping you were flirting," I admitted

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You were?"

My smile widened, but I didn't answer him. "Did you fly over here?"

"Yes."

"Dressed like that?"

He looked down at his flannel shirt and jeans combo. "No, but you asked for Clark. So…here I am."

"Here you are," I repeated. "Glasses and all."

Quickly, as if he were embarrassed, he took off his glasses and laid them on the end table.

"That's amazing, you know," I said, taking in his appearance. "How different you look with just a pair of glasses."

He gave me that trademark lopsided grin of his that I found irresistible. "Well, the hair is different. And the suit."

I snorted. "Yeah, I have to admit that the suit does kind of pull a girl's attention away from your face."

Now he really was embarrassed, for there was enough moonlight spilling into the room for me to see that he blushed scarlet. "That's not why I wear the suit."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I don't like it."

Our eyes met then and the air was heavy with unspoken words.

"Sit down," I said after a long moment.

He glanced at the foot of the bed in worry. "Here?"

"Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with the bed?"

He looked up at me. "No, I just thought that maybe we'd… you'd…be more comfortable… in the living room."

The underlying sentiment in that statement was that he would feel more comfortable in the living room, but I wasn't about to give in to that. "No, I'm pretty comfortable right here," I said, pointedly.

Our eyes met again and I could see the honest confusion on his face. I couldn't blame him. This was an unusual conversation so far. We usually stuck to mutually important topics, like news events or things going on in Jason's life. The fact that we were in my bedroom and I was down right flirting with him was something that hadn't happened since… well… I couldn't remember when. Literally.

"You're sure you don't want to go in the living room?" he asked again.

"No, it's a mess with all the boxes."

"Boxes?"

"Christmas ornaments. I don't have a tree yet."

His face brightened. "I could get you a tree, Lois. It wouldn't be any bother."

I laughed at his sorry attempt to avoid the subject at hand. "Will you just sit down?"

Carefully, as if he were afraid the bed would crumble beneath him, he sat down at the foot of the bed, as far away from me as possible. He glanced at me briefly, and I tried to hide my pleasure at the way his eyes skimmed over my body before darting away to look down at his hands. For the first time, I considered the fact that I was wearing only the flimsiest of camisole shirts – no bra - and pajama bottoms. It spoke volumes to his character that he only took a quick glance at me.

"How's your story going?" he asked quietly.

I chuckled. "Do you really want to talk about work?"

He looked up at me in surprise. "Is there something…else…you wanted to talk about? I mean, you did ask me to come over here, so I assumed there was a reason."

"There is a reason," I confirmed, "but it doesn't have anything to do with work."

"Is something going on with Jason? Is Eric okay?"

I smiled sadly at the concern in his voice. There would always be some tension between Clark and Jason, for I knew that deep down Clark blamed himself for everything that had happened in the past. I also knew that he worried endlessly about little Eric and how his own life would be affected by his heritage.

"This doesn't have anything to do with anyone else but us, Clark," I assured him.

"Us?" he said hesitantly.

"Yes, us," I stressed. "You and me and this sad sort of dance we've been doing around each other for all these years."

I could almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he thought about what he should say next – about what was appropriate for him to say. Suddenly, I was very worried that he would say something to mess up this moment. "Lois—"

"Please, let me get this out before I lose the courage."

He blinked. "Okay."

I took a deep breath and repositioned myself on the bed so that I was sitting closer to him, with one leg dangling off the side and the other bent and laying in front of me.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've spent every night for the past year or so thinking about… everything. I lay here alone at night with nothing else to do but think about you and me and what we've done in the past and what I want for the future. I've waited – waited for you to come and tell me that you think about the same things – that you want the same things. But I realized recently that you aren't the type to make the first move. Look at how long Jason waited for you to make that first move."

Hurt briefly flashed on his face. "Lois—"

"I didn't mean anything by that. I only use it as an example. You would never come to me and tell me what you want. So, if anyone is going to get the ball rolling, then it would have to be me."

He frowned. "I don't – I don't understand. What exactly is it that you've been waiting for? What is it that I'm—"

"Clark," I interrupted. "Come on. I'm…single."

His eyes immediately fell down to his hands. "You're mourning."

"Yes, and feeling guilty the whole time."

That took him by surprise. "Guilty?"

"That I put him through this. That I held on to him for so long when I should have let him go."

That didn't seem to help him much, for the next words out of his mouth were, "I still don't understand."

"Richard loved me. He loved me completely. He was everything a woman could want in a man; smart, funny, handsome. He was an amazing husband and a devoted father."

Clark looked away and I could just imagine the self-deprecating comments running though his mind upon hearing my words. I had to talk fast and get this all out before he really started wallowing in it.

"He loved me," I went on, "even though he knew I was in love with someone else."

Clark's eyes met mine again, a look of disbelief on his face.

"I loved him, Clark. But he knew there was someone I loved more."

Apparently I had rendered Clark speechless, for he stared back at me in wordless wonder.

"He even asked me about you once," I smiled. "He asked me if I loved you. What's so funny about it is that we had dished the dirt about all our old boyfriends and girlfriends. We'd even admitted to falling in love with some of them, or at least thinking we had fallen in love. But when he asked me if I loved you, I told him no. I could tell him that I thought I loved some boy back in the eleventh grade whose name I couldn't even remember because he was no long important in my life. But when it came to telling him about you…I had to flat out lie and tell him no, I didn't love you. To his credit, he didn't press me about it. But I know he knew I was lying."

Clark swallowed and went to say something, but I wasn't finished. I needed to say this – I needed to get it all out before I could give him a chance to speak and perhaps crush all my dreams in one fell swoop.

"I felt guilty for it. I felt guilty almost every moment of my life. I knew that I couldn't have you, but at least I could have Richard. It was wrong of me to cling to him like that. I should have told him the whole truth and let him find someone who could love him the way he deserved to be loved, but I loved him enough that I was afraid of losing him. It was hard enough that I lost you. I didn't know what I would do if I lost him, too. So I held on to him, married him, built a life with him – all the while hoping that someday I would wake up and find that I loved him more than I loved you." I took a deep breath before adding, "But that never happened."

I pulled my eyes away from his face and looked over at the empty space beside me. "Now that he's gone, another form of guilt has developed inside of me… because I miss him, Clark. I miss him so much that it hurts."

"He was your husband," Clark's deep voice rumbled, drawing my attention. "You shouldn't feel guilty that you miss your husband."

"That's not why I feel guilty." I leaned forward, wanting to be closer to him. "I lie here night after night feeling so alone. And when I wake up in the morning, I reach out in the hope that I'll find someone there to comfort me. But it isn't Richard that I'm wanting." For emphasis, I stretched my hand forward and gently placed it in his.

His eyes darted from our hands back up to my face.

"I love you, Clark," I said at long last. "I've always loved you and I always will."

He stared back at me with an incredulous and almost worried look on his face. "How can you love me?" he asked softly. "I hurt you."

"Yes, you did." I didn't try to deny it.

"I failed you, and then I left you."

I nodded. "I know."

"No matter how much I try to make things right, I have done everything wrong for you. How can you say that you loved me? That you love me more than you loved Richard?"

I pursed my lips. "I don't know, but I do. Believe me, I've tried to not love you, and I just can't. You broke my heart," I said in a near whisper. "But I also know that you're the only one who can mend it and make me feel whole again."

His hand tightened around mine and I could see his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his breath became shallower. "Oh, Lois," he murmured. "I don't know what to say."

"Just…" I shook my head and wet my lips. "Just say that you love me."

He gave a small, audible gasp. His eyes roamed over my face as if he were searching for something. "How do you remember that?"

"Remember what?"

"Those words." To my surprise, he scooted closer to me on the bed. "We've said those words to each other before."

"We have?" I said, a bit shocked, for I had no recollection of him ever telling me that he loved me.

He nodded, his eyes holding fast to mine.

"I don't remember," I admitted. "But I wish I did. I wish I could remember everything."

His eyes, so deep and blue, bore into my soul. "Lois," he said, brushing the back of his hand against my cheek. "I love you so much."

I closed my eyes and let the words sink into my heart and fill my body with the most calm and peaceful feeling. When I opened my eyes, he was holding my face in his hands, stroking my skin with his thumbs. His gaze lingered on my mouth.

"You have no idea what you mean to me," he said, leaning in so close to me now that I could feel his breath against my skin.

I wanted him to kiss me. I had no memory of him ever kissing me, and yet I knew he had at some point. Nearly begging for what I hoped would come next, I said, "Then show me."

AN2: Just so no one has to ask, Richard died of an undetected aneurysm. I would have said more about his death in the fic, but this story is Clark's and Lois' story – not Richard's. I figured he had to die of some kind of natural cause and not an accident, or else I'd run the risk of Lois and/or Jason blaming Supes for not being able to save him. The way I picture it, Richard just collapsed one day at work. Lois and Clark were both there and Richard was dead before they could even get him to the hospital. It was no one's fault and there wasn't anything anyone could do.