Three Takes on a Landing

For Marcy: 1) because she told me to, and 2) to make up for a certain pork sword.

A/N: So this is written circa 10/2010... seems that it never got posted here. Go figure! Things turn up on my HD every so now and then, and it's all nostalgia and good times until the muse gets her interests piqued. Enjoy!

Take 1.

There was music in the air.

Not just the music that was playing in the background, but also the kind that Lois could feel. It was a music that made her blood warm, that made the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end, and that made her heart do crazy flippy things (as it jumped between her stomach and chest).

She felt so good to be back in the place she'd been missing (and apparently that *he'd* been missing!) that she could fly. She was giddy. She wanted to say more even though he'd basically (via her words actually) told her not to.

She opened her eyes and gasped.

They were flying… or floating. Whatever- they were airborne.

She quickly shut her eyes. She had a job to do. Protect that he didn't know that she knew what he didn't think she knew.

She hoped his eyes were still closed.

"What?" Clark asked, apparently having heard her gasp.

She opened her eyes again. She couldn't really do her job if she couldn't see what he saw, could she?

"Nothing," she whispered, shifting slightly to see that his eyes were still, in fact, closed. "I was just thinking… Don't open your eyes…" she said, seeing his lids about to flicker.

Calling his attention away from whatever pink-hazed love island he was dreaming of (well, that was what *she* had been dreaming of…) was causing their altitude to slowly lower. Which was good. For the whole protecting the protecting of the protector thing.

"Why?" he asked, smiling but keeping his eyes closed.

"Because… because…"

They were lower now. Maybe an inch off the floor. Even less.

Half of her mind was trying to finish her 'because' statement while the other half was trying to digest the fact that they were flying! ...Floating! Whatever!

This man- this amazing man- was *her* man.

"Lois?" her amazing man asked.

She was really tripping out over the airborne thing and she was no doubt worrying him. If she was really going to do this secret keeping about secret keeping thing, she needed to get a grip.

Or maybe a few grips. But then, those blue-hazed thoughts weren't really helping the current situation.

"Because," she repeated as the ground finally met sole. "I missed you too. So much. And I just want to stay right here, like this, forever."

She meant all that, and despite her best attempts at bravado, it sounded in her voice-in the catches.

Clark opened his eyes. Looked deep into her eyes. And really saw her. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

It shouldn't have meant that much to hear him say it. After the "I missed you," and the "I love you," an "I'm sorry I hurt you," should have been superfluous.

But it wasn't. Again with the bravado. Again with the gasping (from abating tears this time). Again with the feeling like flying.

The truth will set you free, and the truth was that she *was* hurt. By his lack of faith in her (because really, everyone else in their circle knew, right?) but also by his lack of faith in himself.

Could he really not see that he was an amazing man? That he was *her* amazing man?

He needed her. She would take care of him.

"I didn't see what was right in front of me all this time," he continued. "You keep me grounded."

She liked that he finally got it. She liked that they were finally heading where she wanted.

But that whole 'grounded' thing… well, she would let that go for now-during the don't ask don't tell that you know what you don't know phase.

But once they were past all of that, they were going to do that flying (...floating, whatever) thing again.

And soon.

Take 2.

There was music in the air.

Not just the music that was playing in the background, but also the kind that Clark could feel. It was a music that made his blood warm, that made the little hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, and that made his heart do crazy flippy things (as it jumped between his stomach and chest).

Having Lois in his arms was perfection in more ways than one. First, he had spent such a long time telling himself that this would never happen, that this *could* never happen, that the moment felt like a gift from the gods. Second, he had gone to the future and experienced what 'unbridled' felt like.

That future version of Lois Lane-*his* Lois Lane—was everything. That's all he could say as a description. She was *everything*. But then again, she wasn't everything, because this present version of Lois Lane, well, she was *everything* too. Just in a different way.

The jump to Christmas (or whatever) Future could have potentially made the Present pale in comparison, but it didn't. Instead, the present was even brighter than before. Even brighter than the Once Upon A Time To Come because for the first time in his life, the *very* first time, he was excited about the future.

So excited that he wanted to inhale every atom that that made up the Now. He wanted to memorize every moment of the time he spent with Lois Lane right now because if the Future proved anything, it was that he was going to really enjoy the journey.

He pulled her closer to his chest, reveling in the feeling of her breath against his neck.

This was everything he'd ever wanted and so much more.

He wanted to take a mental picture of this second—the moment when his heart finally meshed with someone else. He opened his eyes.

And gasped.

He was flying! ...Or Floating. Whatever.

He had finally accomplished what Kara had been trying to teach him. In order to rise up, you had to let go.

"What?" Lois asked, shifting her head after apparently having heard his sudden inhalation.

"Nothing! I mean, I just… Don't look!" He grimaced at his delivery. Lois Lane would latch onto panic like a… thing that latches on to other things. He tried again, softer, calmer, "I mean, don't look… Just yet."

He suddenly longed for the Future when his Lois would take his word at face value and help him keep it. It had been nice—her taking care of him. Reminding him—with crazed finger circles—that she was in on his secret and would keep it like her own.

And in a way it was her own… because he was her own… but that was in the Time To Come, and he was still in the Time Of Now. And his present Lois Lane would be opening her eyes any second now because even with his amended delivery, she would instinctively know something was up…

…And since he hadn't gotten far enough in Kara's lesson to learn to steer, it would only be seconds before Lois found out that the something up was actually *them*.

But the strangest thing happened.

She didn't open her eyes.

Instead, she smiled and snuggled closer.

And then, looking down at the woman who tethered him to Earth in the best way possible, he learned to fly….

…All the while learning to land.

Take Three.

There was music in the air.

Not just the music that was playing in the background—because there wasn't any playing in the background. The song had ended.

No, this was the kind of music that one could feel. It was a music that made one's blood warm, that made the little hairs at the back of one's neck stand on end, and that made one's heart do crazy flippy things (as it jumped between stomach and chest).

It was the perfect moment. A moment of epic proportions, in fact. Love personified and digitized and tangiblized. If there were ever a Greatest Love Story Ever Told, it would have a scene in it that went something like the one that was playing out right here.

The two main leads were so in-tuned to themselves, in-tuned to one another, that they had no idea about the world that was turning around them. They had no idea that the music had ended. No idea that they were not on the ground.

He pulled her closer and she reciprocated.

He sighed and she snuggled.

Somehow, even with their eyes closed, their lips found one another's and the moment was sealed, stamped, and delivered.

This was one to go down in history. Not just theirs, but the world's.

One heart finding another. Marking another. Imprinting upon another.

But in order for the moment to transition, it would have to end.

They slowly pulled away. Slowly parted—still with eyes closed. Still unaware that the disco ball was now closer to the ground than they were.

She stepped off of his foot…

…And fell.

"What the…!"

It took him a moment to figure out what was going on. First, he had to open his eyes. Second, when he tried to go down, he went up instead.

In the end, he caught her just before she hit the floor.

Then, getting a grip on things (in more ways than one), he lifted her high enough that they were silhouettes against the moon.

His expression was surprised when she appeared to take it all in a gleeful stride.

"About that thing we needed to talk about…" he began.

He didn't get a chance to finish.

Apparently, he didn't need to.