DISCLAIMER: The Justice League of America
characters are the property of DC Comics. The story contents are the creation
and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2005 by Djinn. This story is Rated
R.
Minefields
by Djinn
Part One: Decisions
My husband loves me. I know this.
I've always known this. It's just
that he loves someone else too. Someone who's beautiful and powerful. And his equal in a lot of
ways.
He loves me more though. I'm fine with that. Really. I believe that he loves me more.
But...what is more? I was never great at math--always tended
toward the written word as anyone will tell you. But I can work the math on this one. You have one hundred percent--that's
I try not to think about
it. And it's easy.
Okay, it's not easy. But I still try not to think about it.
He married me. He chose me.
It's just...
This is why I try not to
drink wine at dinner. It makes me
maudlin. It makes me doubt. He's Superman. He'd never hurt me.
He'd never cheat on me.
He'd never be so worried
about her that he'd only think of her.
That he'd do anything to stop her.
He'd never...
I wonder if she ever has? Made love, I
mean. Is she a virgin? That would make sense, in some sort of
classically Greek way. Virgin sacrifice,
peace comes from it. It would make
sense.
And does it occur to
Damn it. Did they ever...? Has she ever?
This is ridiculous. It doesn't matter if she has or hasn't had
sex. Not to me, not to
Just because it's pretty
clear he's obsessing about something does not mean it's her. Or that it's that man's offer to her--one
night with her for peace. It's
mythic. Just like she
is. And why shouldn't she do
it? How hard would it be?
Unless
she's in love with someone else? Like, oh, say, my husband, maybe?
Damn it. I will not do this. He's in the other room, and okay, he's
distracted, but he is not with her, and he is not going to be with her. He's here with me.
I love him; he loves me. We're soul mates.
End of story.
---------------
I can taste Diana on my
lips. I don't have to close my eyes, I
don't have to pretend. I can feel
her--in my arms, lips bruising my own, the way they did the first time we met alone,
no cameras, no publicist, no dire emergency.
Just us, all by ourselves, in the frigid air. Kissing.
It was too much, too
soon. What the hell was I thinking? And why did I run from her later? Why did I think I couldn't have her?
Not that I regret moving
on...I have Lois. I love Lois. We're married, and that means the world to
me. Normally, I don't sit in my study
and fixate on what Diana is doing. Or with whom.
Will she make love to him if
that is the price of peace? Will she let
him touch her, let him...show her what love feels
like? But it won't be love...it will
just be sex.
I told her there was another
way. She didn't listen.
I tried another tack. "Diana, can't you see? He's just using you. You can't be sure he'll even keep his
word."
"He made a
promise."
"And once he has what he
wants, once he's had you, what reason will he have to keep that
promise?" I tighten my hold on her
hand, can practically feel her pulse beating in my palm. "He's not like us."
"I know," she
says. And I wonder if she is thinking of
more than just his ethics. He's only a
normal human; he doesn't have our strength--doesn't have our appetites.
Maybe she's thinking the same
thing as I am. That if I made love to
her, I wouldn't have to hold back. Not at all. Except
that...yes, I would. At
least at first--because she's never done it. Or she hadn't when we first tried to make
things work.
We didn't try very hard. Why didn't we try? She regrets it too, I think. I see it in her eyes sometimes. That we gave up too soon, that I ran and that
she let me go. Why didn't we try just a
little harder, back when there was no Lois to hurt, or at least not the way it
would hurt her now.
I won't hurt Lois. I won't.
Diana can sleep with the entire war council of New Vladonia if she
wants. I'm a married man, and what Diana
does or doesn't do is of no concern to me.
It shouldn't make me happy
that if she does make love with him, she'll have to hold back. She's powerful, and this Alcmaeon--well, he
might be immortal, but he's just a human.
Not super strong. Not like
me.
Diana is in love with
me. That's what I've always
believed. She hasn't said it, but I
think she is.
But...how can she do this if
she loves me?
----------------
You wouldn't always know it,
but there's not a lot that Superman and I can't talk about. We've been friends for too many years, been
through too much together. He's like a
brother to me. A
bigger, stronger, irritating brother, but a brother.
Dick used to treat him like a
favorite uncle. Alfred still treats him
like he's my long-lost sibling, fawning all over him whenever he deigns to
visit
Milk. Sheesh.
But he's open that way. Open, innocent. One great big lug of a
superhero.
Except
where she's concerned. Diana.
We don't talk about Diana. Which is probably a good thing. I'm not sure he'd be thrilled to know that
she and I have been spending time together.
I don't mean we're--I mean she's Wonder Woman and I still annoy the crap
out of her, but she's been trying to convert me to her message of peace.
It'd be funny, if I didn't
enjoy the time I spend with her so much.
I can see why
But hell, if there was ever a
man who obsessed over a woman, it's the big blue flying guy for our princess of
wonder. And the strange thing is, I know how much he loves Lois. As in flat-out, passion-filled, truly adores
his wife.
He just loves Diana too. Or maybe it's not love. Maybe it's something sort of dark. Which no one would probably believe except
maybe Clark, me...and Diana.
She doesn't talk about him to
me. Ever. Not even good things, normal, everyday gossip
things. She just doesn't mention
him. Well, if it's business, she
will. If she's dissecting a battle, it's
not like she leaves out
I wonder if she even realizes
she does it?
I've often wondered what happened between them back when they were
splashed across every tabloid from
The mind boggles at what sex
might be like for the two of them. I
imagine they'd have to hold back with a plain old garden-variety human. But with each other? Talk about fireworks.
I've thought about it. Sex with Diana. She's so...limber. A man can't be blamed for thinking along
those lines.
I said that to him once. Made a joke about vampires and
him and me and Diana's neck.
That's when I learned that he and I can't talk about her. That was back before I had any reason to want
to hide things about her from him. Like
how in the dark, her hair shines when the moon lands on it. I've seen it, going from roof to roof with
her. It glistens.
She glistens.
And never more than when she is with him. She
lights up around him. I wish...well, she
never lights up that way around me. But
then I am the dark knight. No reason for
her to light up, and I'm the only one who gets to see her gleaming in the light
of the moon. He'll never see that.
At least, I don't think he's
seen that.
Have they done it? Have they made love? I wish I knew. I bet Lois wishes she knew too.
I would have guessed they
hadn't. If anyone had
asked me, even just a few days ago.
But that was before this Alcmaeon came along with his bargain. That was before I saw Superman's eyes go
distant, as if he was remembering something...something personal. Something private. Something--
God, this must drive Lois
nuts. It's driving me nuts, and I'm not
in love with any of the possibly guilty parties.
Okay, maybe a little in
love. But just a little. I'm not all wrapped around the axle over
whether Diana does this or not. It's her
decision to make, her body to give or not.
And it's not much of a price, really?
If you think of it that way. One night to save all those
people? If it's her will, her
desire to help, why should I tell her no?
I tried to tell her
that. I'm not sure she understood
me. You do what you can; you do what
lets you sleep at night. And everyone
has different limits. If she can do this
and sleep at night, then more power to her.
I think I could too. But then my world is darkness, where color
fades to be replaced with shades of gray.
I'm fine with ambiguity.
I imagine he's not sleeping
at night at all right now.
I just hope Diana is finding
it possible to rest. She's going to need
it.
------------------
Kal does not approve of what
I am about to do.
I hate that I am so saddened
by his disapproval and by his frown when he told me there was always another
way. Perhaps for him there is. For a man who will not kill, no matter what,
perhaps there is always another way.
For me, there is not. One night, just one night. And New Vladonia will know peace again. Alcmaeon has promised that.
He makes my skin crawl. The thought of my first time being with
him--it makes me shudder, and not in the way he no doubt hopes. He had not come out and said that he will
demand that from me, but what else can he mean by one night? What else can I expect? And...for peace, I
will do it.
I wish...I guess it does not
matter what I wish. I have become adept
at putting my own wishes behind me, at focusing on the greater good. If this is not a case of the greater good,
what is?
Still, I wish my first time
was to be with Kal. Oh, why can I not be
honest? I wish all my times were to be
with Kal. I wish Kal were not married,
that he was with me. Why did I push him away
when I had my chance with him? Why did I
see his eagerness as impatience? His candor as bluntness?
Why did I not make love to him then?
Why was I so afraid of
him?
He is out of my reach
now. He is with Lois. Always with Lois. His wife, his mate, his
love.
Yet...there are times I feel
as if he loves me deeply. Times when he
has taken risks for me that go beyond simply comrades-in-arms. There are times when I am laughing with the others
that I see him watching me...and there is such a look of longing on his face.
I worry that I look at him
that way sometimes. But I have never
asked anyone. I don't discuss Kal. He is my friend. My good--no, my best
friend. But
nothing more.
Never
anything more. Great goddess, I sound so pathetic. It's not like that. I don't sit and obsess over what might have
been. I have a clear mission, a duty
here in man's world. I don't worry about
what might have been.
It's just every now and then,
when he and I have worked particularly closely.
Or when one of us needed help and without thought turned to the
other. Those are the times I wish I had
him in my life in some less-casual way.
And now, with this decision looming in my face, it brings it home even
more. That I wish it was Kal who was
going to be my lover, not this fury-ridden immortal.
I try to imagine sometimes,
how my relationship with Kal must affect Lois.
I am not unmoved by her situation.
Kal loves her. We all know that. And yet...she has to share some part of him
with me. She does it graciously. Welcomes me into her world
with nearly open arms. And still,
I can't help thinking what I would do if I were her. Would I be so gracious? Or would I be reaching for a challenge sword
and picking witnesses and a proving ground?
She is not like me. That is probably a good thing.
I have to stop thinking of
this. I have made my decision, and it is
time to get ready.
---------------------
But I'm not going to get up;
I'm not going to wander out. I don't
want to know that he's gone. Not
tonight. Not this night--the night Diana
was supposed to spend with that man. The
night
Whenever he's called away by
the League, he wakes me up. He always
wakes me up. He knows how I worry about
him.
He wasn't called by the
JLA. He wasn't called by anyone. His presence isn't needed.
If I were the kind who goes
in for self-delusion, I could say he's just gone to protect her. That he wants to make sure this man doesn't
hurt her. But this is Wonder Woman. She could break Alcmaeon's neck if he looks
at her wrong.
And then he wants to...he
wants to...
It's funny, really. She's doing the right thing, I think. Why can't
How much does he love her
that he left our bed like a thief in the night?
I can't stand it. I get out of bed. I walk down the hall. The light is on; he left it on, left the door
cracked. Probably so I'd think he was
there but not want to disturb him.
I leave the light on, sit in
the arm chair to the side of the window, which he's also left cracked. It's cold, so I pull down the throw and wrap
it around me. I wait. And wait.
And finally he comes home.
"How is she?" I
ask.
He whirls. Was he so lost in thought that his
super-hearing let him down? "Lois.
I got called--"
I have to give him
credit. He can't finish the lie. Instead, he just looks down.
"You didn't answer my
question."
"That's because I don't
know the answer." He sits down in
his desk chair, can't meet my eyes.
"
He doesn't look up. "I know."
"You chose me. Are you sorry for that? Do you want a do-over?"
He doesn't answer, not at
first. When he finally looks up, his
eyes are angry. "You're my
wife."
I suddenly realize that so
much of
"That's an evasion not
an answer." I've never put him on
the spot like this. Oh, God knows, I've
needled him, pushed at him, even yelled at him--all over her. But I've never made him choose. I get up.
"I'm going to bed now. If
you want to join me, you have to leave her out there." I gesture vaguely toward the window. "If you can't do that, then don't come
to bed. Ever."
"A
choice, Lois?"
"You made your choice,
"I can't make any
promises right now." He must be
able to see I am close to blowing up, because he gets up and shuts the window,
pulling it tight. "I won't go back
out. But I can't promise that I'm
leaving her out there."
I toss him the throw from the
chair. "Then sleep in here."
The hallway seems very long
and very cold as I leave him alone.
Or not
alone. That's the problem. We're not alone anymore. Tonight, she's there.
Will she always be?
Part Two: Repercussions
We stand at an impasse, Diana
and I. Alcmaeon is dead. I watched it, watched with my super-vision as
he burned the scrolls and lost his immortality--all for her, for love of her. I watched him die in her arms, held in her
embrace, her lips on his, as he turned to dust and left her alone.
I called her to the
Fortress. And she came. I was trying to be generous. Trying to understand. Trying to apologize. I didn't expect to be subjected to a verbal
attack.
And I didn't expect her to
cry. I didn't expect her to say that she
wished I had trusted her more. That she
really needed me.
She is still crying. But she is angry now. As mad as I've ever seen
her.
I take a step toward
her. "You and he didn't then?"
"You were the one
watching. The super
voyeur. Didn't you see
it?" She practically spits the
words at me, moves closer.
"I saw you kiss
him. I...I couldn't watch the
rest."
"You couldn't
watch?"
For a moment, I think she is
going to strike me, but I should know better.
That is not her way, has never been her way.
Although it
might make me feel better if it were.
She may not strike, but her
boots land like slaps on the ice. She is
so mad she steps wrong, slides a little.
I can tell it makes her even angrier to lose control that way.
"Diana." I reach out for her. There is so much I want from her. I can feel my expression softening.
"Damn you!" She moves closer, sliding again in her haste
to get to me. "You should have
watched. He was good. He was so good." Her expression is hateful, and I turn away.
"That's right. It was good.
He made love to me. He was my
first, and it was good." She touches
my shoulder, her fingers clawing into the nerves near my neck. It hurts, and I know she knows it hurts.
Only she could hurt me that
way. Only she would know how to do
it. But it doesn't hurt as much as her
words do as they stab me in the heart.
"Diana, don't."
"What's the matter? Is this painful? Well, it was a little painful for me too,
Kal. My.
First. Time."
"Don't." I can't bear to hear this.
"Oh, I admit, he was
just a human. The earth didn't move the
way I'm sure it would have with you. But
it was damned close." She laughs,
but there is a catch in the sound.
I whirl to look at her. She is crying, more
tears than I've ever seen her shed.
"Why don't you believe
in me?" She stumbles back.
"I saw you this
morning. In his
bed."
"Yes. I was in his bed. And he was out on the couch." She looks down, and I know it's not in shame
or embarrassment, it's because she can't stand to look at me. "He didn't push it. I don't know why. He just didn't."
"You touched
him." I see her look. "I mean...his heart. You touched his heart."
She sighs. "Yes.
I did."
"I'm sorry,
Diana." I hold my arms open. It's the way we've always apologized to each
other in the past.
But she just stares at
me. Her tears don't stop. "I can't be here."
Then she is off, this time
she does not slip as she launches herself into the air.
I could catch her
easily. But all I can see is her
tears. All I can imagine is how she
would feel in my arms. How it would feel
to be together on the bed in the Fortress that lies
only a few steps from where our friendship just broke apart. All I want to do is fly after her and catch
her up and carry her back here.
And make love to her. Be her first and her last and her always.
I can't go back to Lois this
way. Not when all I want is Diana. The Fortress beckons, offering peace as it
always has. And I'll be fine, as long as
I don't think about how Diana looked with tears in her eyes--tears that I
caused.
-------------------
I don't know why I'm here, all I know is that I've followed Wonder Woman around
the globe to cover the war in New Vladonia.
As a reporter, it's my job. As
Superman's wife, it's probably more like stalking. I don't care anymore.
I would have followed her to
wherever she went a little while ago, only I had a feeling it was to meet my
husband, and I found myself a bit of a coward.
I didn't want to know. Plus, I
can't fly.
But she's back now. Back and laying a rose on a
grave in a field of too many graves.
I don't know whose grave it is.
But she does; I can tell from the way she's crying that she does.
Is it his? This General Lysander? Or Alcmaeon? Whatever his name was.
The dead man who posed the bargain that is slowly splitting my marriage
in two.
"Did she love him?"
I wish I had a camera behind me. But my
notepad will have to do. Starting to jot
down the story, I feel a hand on my arm, stopping me from writing.
"It's not his
grave." I didn't hear him come
up. But then I never do.
"This is a long way from
He nods. "I had a favor to do for a
friend." The way he's watching
Wonder Woman, I can tell she's the friend in question.
Is there no one she can't
bewitch?
"No Mrs. Batman at home,
is there?" My voice is mean, and
I'd normally cringe and try to make the words less painful. But I don't care anymore.
I just wish I could tell
Wonder Woman what I think of her. And
maybe I could, if I wasn't hiding behind a mausoleum.
"No, no Mrs.
Batman." He is keeping to the
shadows too. In the gathering dusk, it's
easy.
"Does she know we're
here?"
He shakes his head. "I think she's a million miles
away."
Clear to an icy fortress,
maybe? Up there in the frozen wilderness
with my husband to keep her warm? I don't
realize I'm holding--squeezing hard-- onto Batman's hand, until he pulls me
close.
"I'm losing him. And I don't know what to do."
"You're not losing
him. You have to have faith." He is warmer than I expect. He's always seemed so cold, this best friend
of my husband's. This
bat-man.
"Faith
in what?"
"In
your marriage. In that mattering to
"Are you saying that
because you believe in my marriage?"
I glance out at the woman kneeling in front of the grave. Even from here, hunched over and body shaking
with sobs, she is beautiful. "Or
because you don't want
His smile is impossible to
read. "Yes."
Suddenly, Wonder Woman stands
up. She wipes her face for a moment, then she launches herself into the air. Headed north again. Back to
"Let her go. Let them finish this."
I take my anger out on him,
pounding relentlessly on body armor that seems to disappear into the Vladonian night.
"I hate you. I hate
her. I hate
He lets me rant, lets me
punch and kick, and it is only when I start to cry that he pulls me close and
holds me until I stop. I can barely
breathe when I stop.
He kisses my cheek, and
whispers, "Believe."
Then he is gone.
--------------
It takes little time to get back
to the Fortress. I wonder what Bruce
would say if he knew I was heading back here.
He'd no doubt tell me I'm a fool.
And he'd no doubt be right.
The Fortress is locked up
tight when I get there. There is no sign
that Kal and I ever stood in the icy snow tearing our friendship apart. I touch the chime, hidden but there if you
know where to look. And he showed
me. Once. Long ago.
The door opens, and he stares
at me. I know I should be strong; I know
I should tell him I'm sorry for what I said, that I'm sorry for how we both
acted. That we'll be
okay in time. And I try to say
all that, but the only thing that comes out is, "Kal," as I burst
into tears.
And then he is pulling me
in. Into the Fortress,
into his arms. He holds me close,
his lips on my hair, and I relax in his embrace. "Diana, I'm so sorry. I was crazy.
Stupid.
Forgive me."
I nod, holding onto him more
tightly. I don't mean to push my body
against his, but I do. I don't mean to
look up at him, to reach for him, to pull his face down to mine. But goddesses help me, I do.
And he doesn't fight, he is
eager, his lips on mine, tasting, claiming, branding me. Then his tongue is pressing against my lips,
gentle and loving and I open my mouth to him, learning to kiss him the way he
wants me to.
It is exhilarating. Why, oh why, did I run from this man?
"Diana," he
murmurs, scooping me up and carrying me.
He is kissing my neck, his mouth making me shiver.
I run my hands through his
hair, the way I've always wanted to but never could. I've always had to settle for just ruffling
his hair playfully. This is
different. What I'm doing to him, what
he is doing to me: they are the touches
of lovers.
There is a bed in one of the
rooms off the main hall, and he is laying me on it, and then he is there
too. His hands roam up and down my body,
over my uniform, under the parts he can easily get past. I hear a moan,
realize I have made the sound.
"God, Diana. I want you so much. Thinking of you with him...it made me
crazy." He is moving over me, still
in his uniform, me in mine. Our bodies
pretend to join, groins rubbing.
"Kal. This isn't right." It's a good thing to say. It's the right thing to say. It'd be more believable if I weren't kissing
him so frantically.
"Tell me to
stop." He begins to take off my
uniform, and he slows to look at me, his eyes meeting mine.
And I see something beyond
love. I see possession. I see obsession. I see us hurting everyone we care about just
to have this, to have each other.
To own each
other.
He has pulled one side of my
uniform down, past my breast, and his lips touch my skin. I arch my body in automatic response; I want
him--want him as I never wanted Alcmaeon despite all his charms.
I have never wanted anything
in my entire life the way I want Kal right now.
I nearly weep as I whisper,
"Stop."
I can hear his breathing
change. He lifts his lips from my
breast.
"Stop, Kal. We can't."
He stares down at me, as if
memorizing what my body looks like without fabric in the way of his
super-vision. Then he slowly pulls my
uniform back up. Kissing the fabric
gently, he sighs and lays his head on my chest.
"I thought you wanted this."
"I did. I do."
I pull him up, not an easy feat because he is dead weight, and I realize
disappointment is making him act this way.
"I do want you."
He rolls off me, but I follow
him, and he catches me up, pulling me into his arms, curled against him in a
way I've fantasized about more than once.
"Why?" His voice is nothing more than a whisper.
"Because
this is for the wrong reason. It's dark, and it's not about love."
His expression is
fierce. "Yes it is. I love you."
"And I love
you." It feels so good to say
it--and it hurts more than I can believe.
"But right now this isn't about love, Kal. Right now this is about something
darker. It's about possession and
ownership and territory. And about you wanting to mark me forever. To make sure that nothing would ever be as
good as my first time...as you."
He doesn't tell me I'm wrong,
so I just cuddle against him. I feel
something wet on my cheeks and realize I'm crying again.
He looks down at me, then he wipes the tears off gently. "I've dreamed of this, of holding you,
of loving you. Dreamed, fantasized." He sighs, the sound profound in his long
exhale. "I'm a married man, and I
think of you."
"I know. But you love her, Kal. You will always love her."
He smiles. It is a smile of extraordinary
bitterness. "I'll always love you
too."
We lay there for a long time,
not moving, except for his hand stroking my arm gently. Then, without speaking, we both let go. We leave the Fortress together, but we head
in very different directions.
I wonder if we will always
head in very different directions.
---------------
I'm not surprised to see
her. The Vladonian
night seems to glow just from her presence as I sit in the rubble of the
castle, the place of her supposed sin.
Lois has gone, taken the army transport back to the States hours
ago. But I've waited here, in the night
that has turned to nearly morning.
"I have another
favor." She's been crying. Recently too. Maybe all the way back here from the
Fortress.
"Name it." When did this woman become someone to whom
I'd make promises without even knowing the conditions?
She moves closer. Her eyes are strange tonight in the
torchlight that glimmers around us. They
seem darker somehow. Harder. And lost. She seems lost.
"Diana?" My voice shakes, and I marvel at her power to
move me.
"I have something I need
to get rid of." She reaches for me,
her touch on my cheek so soft--so welcome.
I don't like where this is
going--it hurts that she thinks of me when she needs dark things done. Pulling back, I walk away from her and sit on
what's left of a low wall, facing her.
To be safe I cross my leg over my knee.
To keep her out...and hide the effect she's having on me.
She doesn't seem to
notice. "Help me?" Then she reaches out, her hand open. "Please, Bruce?"
I pull her down to me, my leg
dropping so she can end up on my lap.
It's an idiotic thing to do if I want to maintain control, but I do it
anyway. How many chances like this am I
going to have? "Help you how?"
She can't say it, can't spell
it out. And God help me, I love her for
that reticence. For
that innocence.
And I suddenly hate my best
friend for making her offer me what I know she'd rather give him. "This is about
She can't meet my eyes. Which is all the answer I
really need. But she surprises
me. She leans in and kisses me. It's a surprisingly good kiss, considering
how innocent she is.
"Did Alcmaeon teach you
that?"
She pulls away, as if she
thinks I am mocking her. Then she seems
to realize I'm only asking out of curiosity.
"Not Alcmaeon." She
touches my lips, her finger gentle as it travels across them. "Kal taught me. Long ago."
"And
not so long ago, maybe?"
She blushes, and I sigh. It's hell being so smart.
"You and he
never...? Long ago, I mean? Or...a little bit ago?"
She shakes her head; her
finger doesn't stop its soft movement tracing my lips. "No, not with him. Not with anyone. I've never..." She looks down, then
her eyes meet mine. "He wants
that. To be my first. I thought that if I..."
"You thought that if you
gave it away to someone else...?" I
laugh softly, and somehow my hand has gone from supporting her to stroking her
back softly.
She leans into me and nods
slowly, but she is not meeting my eyes anymore.
"Look at me,
Diana."
It takes her longer than I
think it should. But then she does look
at me.
"Taking something you'd
rather give him--that's empty. I
can't. I want to, don't
misunderstand. But I want more from you
than just stealing what both you and he think is his."
"I don't--"
I shut her up with a
kiss. When we finally pull away, I
stroke her hair. It's time to indulge in
all the things I've ever wanted to do. The
things she usually only allows
"Let me tell you a
secret, Diana.
"But he's married."
"Yes, he is. And I pity Lois. If this is hard for you, then it's worse for
her."
"I didn't mean to make
it hard for her."
"I know. But if she hates you, don't blame
her." I stroke her cheek. "If she's as smart as I think she is,
she knows that you and Clark aren't getting any older. And it's got to be miserable to think that
you two might be just waiting for freedom.
Honorable freedom."
"You make us into
monsters."
I smile, and I know what kind
of smile it is even before she turns away at the bitterness in it. "You're superheroes. Sometimes, that's just another word for
monsters."
Not answering, she puts her
head down, curling against me the way she has the few times I've carried her
off the battlefield. It's the way I've
curled against her the times she's returned the favor.
"I love him,
Bruce."
"I know."
She looks up at me, and then
leans in, and I can tell it is the last kiss of the night. We make it a good one, long and sweet, and I
wonder for a moment if I'll ever enjoy a kiss this much again.
When we pull back, I
smile. "How many men have you
kissed in the last few days? Is this a
personal record?" I'm not trying to
hurt her. I keep my tone light.
And she's used to me after the
time we've spent together. In the past,
she'd have been offended, but now she just laughs. But her smile doesn't last very long. "You make me laugh. And he makes me cry. It's all wrong."
"No. It's just love."
She starts to pull away, and
I let her go. My arms feel strangely
empty when she is once again standing, and I can do nothing more than stare up
at her.
She looks back at me, her
gaze fearless as always. "The rose
you gave me. It was lavender."
I nod.
"What does it mean? The color has meaning, doesn't it?"
"It signifies
rarity." I do not tell her it also
means enchantment.
She smiles as she reaches
down, capturing my hand. "You're a
rare friend."
"I hope you always think
so." There are things I've done,
things she doesn't know about. That
nobody knows about.
"I can't imagine
not." Then she turns and walks
away, her back straight, her head held high.
Strong again.
I hope
I'm not sure what I will do
about it if he does hurt her. I'm not
sure what I think I can do.
I only know I'll try. For her, I'll try.
---------------------
He's waiting for me as I get
off the transport.
He seems about to hug me, but
then he sees my expression. I've had a
lot of time to think on that uncomfortable plane. It was cold.
Almost as cold as I feel inside.
"I know you were with
her." I brush past him, get in the
cab that the pilot was nice enough to call for me, and let
He beats me home. But he's in his den, not waiting this time.
I want to go straight to
bed. I want to leave him alone. But I've been hearing Batman's voice ringing
inside my head since he left me.
Believe. Believe.
Believe.
I walk down the hall, the
hall that's been ours for such a short a time.
We could bring it all crashing down now.
If we want to, we can end this marriage.
I push the den door open, see
"I was with her."
His admission feels like a
sledgehammer to my gut. How can four
words hurt so goddamned much?
I decide I don't want to
know. I decide I don't want to
believe. Batman is a fool. "Then be with her. You've made your choice."
"It wasn't like
that."
I turn, not sure what he
means. How could it not be like
that? I can see the misery on his
face. He has "I just cheated on my
wife" face, and I hate him for it.
"Do I want to know what
you mean by that?"
He looks down. "She wouldn't. She stopped me."
These words hurt even more
than the others. Is he an idiot?
He looks up at me, and there
are tears in his eyes. "I want to tell
you that I stopped it. I want to tell you that she threw herself at me, and I
told her to go to hell." He shakes
his head. "I want to be the best
husband. I want to be heroic and a
superman. But I'm just a man. And not a very good
one."
I know I'm crying, and I hate
it. I hate showing weakness,
hate it even more that I'm doing it now.
His honesty hurts the
most. Because I know he is telling the
truth. He does wish he were a superman
in this too.
Sighing, I sit in the chair
by the window. I pull the throw down
around me, trying to warm up
Will I ever be warm in this
room again?
"Lois, I'm sorry."
"We're not all
right."
"I know."
"We may never be all
right again."
"I know that too."
I find it impossible to meet
his eyes. The earnest misery in them
makes me want to walk over and throttle him.
Not that I could. Only she
could.
She.
"This has never been her
fault, has it?"
He shakes his head.
"Then I hate you."
He nods again, quickly, as if
happily accepting that role. The hated. The one who did wrong.
I stand up, flinging the
throw down. "Damn it, she's not
blameless either. You're two frickin'
superheroes. What ever happened to
restraint? What ever happened to
fidelity?"
"We didn't--"
"I don't
care." I'm screaming. I'm screaming, and I know the neighbors are hating me the way I've hated my neighbors when they held
noisy fights in the wee hours of the mornings.
"Damn you! Damn you
both!"
He looks down, but not before
I see a look of such sadness in his eyes that I realize he is already
damned. He and Diana
both?
He doesn't just love
her. I sit down, knocked back to the
chair by the realization.
He doesn't just love her; he
is in love with her.
"We're a long way from
all right." My voice is unnaturally
composed, hides that my insides are now made of broken glass.
"I don't want to lose
you."
"I'm really not sure
why." I don't take pity on him as I
stand and calmly fold the throw, placing it neatly over the back of the
chair. "I'm going to bed."
He starts to get up. Without turning, I say, "The bed is off
limits."
I hear him sit back down.
"One day at a time,
"All
right." His voice is low, raspy, as if I've hurt
him. "I love you, Lois."
"Yes. And you loved me this whole time, Clark. I'm not sure what that means anymore."
I leave him then. Leave him and walk down the hall, and lie in
our big bed, and wonder if I'm going to leave him for good. And wonder what she's doing.
I'm wondering about Wonder
Woman. It'd make a great end line in a
column. But this isn't a column. This is my life.
My life
that suddenly seems filled with more jagged rubble and unexploded mines than
New Vladonia.
Maybe someday Clark and I
will be all right again.
Maybe someday love will mean
something again.
But not
tonight. Nothing means anything tonight.
FIN