Archive of Our Own

Exhaustion was a small word for what you were feeling.

Constant days of fighting left a person bone-achingly tired. And that is exactly what had happened to you.

Or rather to every superhero on the planet.

An alien race had decided that the planet Earth was ripe for the taking. A rather easy planet to overtake since all that lived there were puny humans. In fact, the would-be invading force had been so sure of their success, that they hadn't even bothered doing any more research then the bare minimum.

Which had been a huge error on their part.

Because the day their spacecrafts had entered the Earth's atmosphere, they had been met with not just the human race that was armed to the teeth.

But an entire armada of superheroes, willing to fight to the death for their planet.

If there ever had been a bigger Oh Shit moment, then this would be it.

Your ears were still ringing from the constant cacophony of voices that had been echoing in them for the past few days. As the person in charge of relaying messages between the many Supers scattered throughout the globe, plus the military of every country that could afford it, you had been delegated the task of making sure everyone and everything was connected. Not to mention there was the added task of calling out patterns inbetween the attacks and making sure no rogue spaceship made any escape. You had had help of course, but the brunt of it all had fallen to you.

Tactical decisions, organizing rescues, sending back ups, making sure no team was too overwhelmed and no area on Earth left unchecked lest the Invasion somehow manage to break through the defenses, had been a huge responsibility.

But now, all of that was done.

They had won.

Earth was safe.

But then why couldn't your mind stop working?

As you sat atop the window seat, in one of the many rooms at Wayne Manor, you couldn't help but think. Rethink. Then think again.

The fight had not been without losses. Some of the tactics hadn't worked and had fallen through, leading to the loss of lives that could've been prevented. And though Wonder Woman had assured you that the damage could've been worse if you hadn't been there to send in a Rescue Team, you still couldn't help but blame yourself for those mistakes.

Wrapping your blanket tighter around your shoulders, your eyes stared listlessly out the partially open window, watching as the snowflakes drifted softly to the ground, creating a wondrous winter landscape.

Good thing the Invasion had been defeated a week or so before Christmas.

Though the thought of the Holidays, and of the people who would not be celebrating it only dulled your spirit of the season. How many families had been torn apart? How many people would be mourning rather then celebrating?

Maybe you could go over the list of casualties and persuade Bruce to send some funds to the grieving families?

"You're gonna catch a cold like that." Came a voice, soft and warm, cutting right through your less then wholesome thoughts. You jumped slightly, startled, but then sighed in relief when you saw who it was. "Oh, hey Clark." You said softly, turning your head back to the window, if only to surreptitiously wipe away at the few tears that had managed to escape during your melancholic meditation. "I've told you before. I don't catch colds easily." You stated, though you did reach out to latch the window shut. Knowing Clark, he would nag you until you did.

The Kryptonian hummed in agreement. "True, but you can't be too careful." He said, walking over to sit opposite you. "Imagine, how it would read in the history books. You survived an Invasion, only to be taken by a simple flu." You rolled your eyes, though a small smile played at your lips, before you returned your gaze back to the falling snow outside, shifting where you sat so you could stretch your legs out in front of you atop the seat. The tips of your toes just barely an inch away from Clark's knee.

A long stretch of silence followed, where the both of you simply continued to gaze at the falling snow. You didn't want to admit it, but having Clark close eased some of the tension that swirled within you. Not to mention you always breathed easy when you were around him. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you leaned your forehead against the cool glass, closing your eyes as your breath fogged the pane.

Your little movement had prompted Clark to turn his blue gaze in your direction. His expression softened and he felt a sense of calmness envelope him as he watched your eyelashes brush against the tops of your cheeks. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but the reason he had decided to see if you were awake or not was mostly so he could be in your presence. Somehow, and he couldn't find a label to put on it, being with you, being around you, and sometimes even thinking about you, had the Krpytonian feeling just a little less lonely in a world. And strangely enough, your presence also helped to quieten the world around him. As a person with Super-Hearing abilities, it could get hard sometimes, to tune out the many sounds, noises and voices that weaved through the air. And after a few long days of stopping an Invasion where that noise had reached an epic crescendo, Clark had needed the quiet.

The tip of his mouth lilted up in a gentle smile, his chin resting atop his palm as he too leaned against the window, the coolness of the glass not bothering him at all as he continued to watch you.

"I can feel you staring at me." You said, eyes still closed, an amused smile on your lips. The man gave a small hum. "I'm not being subtle about it." You laughed, eyes finally opening to fix him with a look that included a raised eyebrow, and a nudge with the tips of your toes against his knee. "Nothing about you is subtle Clark Kent."

Your first meeting with the Krpytonian had been anything but subtle.

Because really what was subtle about a man in tights and cape as he came hurtling through the air and crashed into your living room?

Luckily no one had been home other then yourself. Your grandparents had been out to get some groceries. A good thing too because your Nana would lament the loss of her ceramic cats. A cupboard full of them. You and Pop-Pop had always found it creepy, so really Superman had done you a service when he crashed straight into it.

You had been upstairs, watching the fight going on in Metropolis on one of your many computer screens when your entire home had shook accompanied by a resounding crash. One that had your cat scratching your arms on accident as when it scrambled away, startled. Nursing your stinging forearm, you cursed at the animal before you rushed downstairs. Your eyes focused on the rubble, loose bits and pieces hanging and clattering to the ground, watching it shift as a figure clad in blue and red emerged from the still settling dust.

Heart in your throat, you descended the last of the stairs and came to stand over the hero as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. "You know, people usually knock." You commented, holding a hand out to help the man up. A pair of impossibly blue eyes blinked up at you. He was covered in dust. You had seen the man on television, seen pictures of him in the news, but nothing would've prepared you for the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous and there was no denying it. And tall, you noticed as he took your hand and got to his feet, standing a good few inches above you. Enough so that you had to tilt your head back.

Superman, meanwhile, was still trying to get his bearings about him. Your presence didn't help since he had to keep himself from stumbling to his feet rather then rising gracefully. He had always had a thing for y/h/c girls. That paired with your y/e/c eyes was a deadly combination. "I'll keep it in mind the next time I get whacked out of the sky." He responded, voice heavy with playful sarcasm.

Love at first sight?

Not even the slightest.

Attraction at first sight?

Definitely a contender, you mused to yourself, allowing your eyes to sweep across his muscled frame. To make sure he wasn't injured, you told yourself, even as your brain filed the information to assess later.

"Let's not make it a habit. Do I need to check your head for a concussion?" You said as you began to lead him towards the main door. Alright so you hadn't dropped his hand. You know, in case he suddenly started to feel dizzy and stumbled. Or probably because his callused covered, much larger hand, felt good in yours.

Argh, you were such a cliche.

He shook his head. "I'm alright. It's gonna take more then a crash through the ceiling to take me out." If he puffed his chest out slightly to get his point across, he blamed it on the fact that your hand that still held his, was distracting him.

You glanced over your shoulder where a rafter cluttered to the ground with a resounding crash. "But it only takes one superhero crashing through my ceiling to completely annihilate it."

Superman mirrored your movement and winced at the mess. "I'll be sure to pay for the damages." He said, pulling the door open and stepping on the porch outside, finally letting go of your hand.

And if your fingers lingered for a moment before slipping away, neither of you made a comment about it.

"Good." You said, scooping down to grab your cat before it made an escape. Snuggling the fluffy, now grumpy, animal against your chest, you continued, never once breaking eye contact with him. "I thought I would have to hold you hostage or something until you paid up." He was a little taken aback by the playful gleam in your eyes as you stood leaning against the door frame. He was also surprised at the way he was conversing with you. It was rare for him to speak to you as he was doing so. Reaching out, Superman began to rub the feline's head, prompting it to let out a happy meow before starting to purr like a car engine, eyes closed in content.

Despite the urgency of the situation, one that included a killer robot rampaging through Metropolis, Superman allowed himself to linger. His Team could handle themselves for a few seconds.

"And how did you plan on doing that?" He asked, forehead creasing in slight confusion, though the laughter in his voice was evident as he copied your posture. You lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. "Powers of persuasion?" You suggested, prompting him to roll his eyes. "In other words you would tempt me?" He clarified, to which you nodded. "And what exactly would you tempt me with?" He continued, to which you grinned, and stuck a hand inside the pocket of the oversized hoodie you were wearing and pulled out a half-eaten wrapped up bar of chocolate.

Blue eyes blinked, before he pursed his lips and nodded. "That'll do." He reached out to take the sweet treat, taking a bite of it. At that moment his comm crackled to life. "Superman! We're getting our asses whipped out here! What's keeping you?!" That was Green Lantern.

Breaking out of the strange trance-like state he had been in, the man pressed a finger to his comm. "I'm on my way." He said, his tone taking on the authoritative tone it usually did when he was Superman. Sighing in what could only be categorized as regret, he turned to smile sadly at you. "Sorry. Duty calls." He said, holding the remaining chocolate out to you. You shook your head, pushing it back towards him. "Finish it up. You're gonna need your strength." You told him, your voice soft, a strange feeling rising within you, one that made you want to see him safe.

Utterly ridiculous since you had just met him.

He gave you a lopsided smile, looking so boyish and rougish that you forgot to breath for a moment."Yes, ma'am." By the time your brain finally rebooted, he had taken to the skies, floating just a few meters away from the roof of the porch. Something urged him to look back, to watch as you came to stand at the top of the stairs that led down to the driveway of your home.

"Should I watch out for any of your other friends to come crashing through my ceiling?" You asked, wanting to speak to him for just a few more moments if possible. He grinned before shaking his head. "I'll be sure to stop them before they do." And because he couldn't help himself, Superman added. "Wouldn't want you making an impression on the entire League." So saying, he took another bite of the chocolate before flying off back to the battleground.

Leaving you stunned, but with a pleased smile.

Though that smile disappeared as you turned back around and were reminded of the chaos and wreckage that awaited within. "Right." You muttered to yourself, closing the door and dropping your cat to the floor. Grabbing a broom and a dustpan you huffed out a breath through your nose, before beginning to clean up.

The very next day, a group of professional cleaners as well as a construction company had barged into your home to clean the rest of the mess and fix the ceiling.

Later that night, when they had left for the day, you had opened your window to find a bar of chocolate resting on your window sill.

The same brand you had shared with a certain blue eyed hero.

Your second meeting with Superman had been just as chaotic as the first, if not more so. It also culminated in you meeting the rest of the League.

The Originals, as the founders of the League were called, had been racing, or flying, against the clock to locate several bombs that had been placed all over the globe by a rather deranged group of people who believed in wiping out the entire human race and give it a do-over.

Something about there being too much evil in the world and wanting a fresh start.

Ironic since they were willing to commit mass murder to eradicate evil.

Sometimes villains didn't really see things through.

The League had no way of knowing where the bombs were. Even Batman, one of the greatest detectives, was having trouble pinpointing the exact locations. They had been having a conference over the comms, scattered all over the globe, when all of a sudden a new voice had broken through.

It had crackled at first, your voice cutting through the air, before gaining clarity and you had begun to speak. Urgent and hurried.

"Listen, I know you have no idea who I am. Actually no, only Superman does. But I know where all the bombs are and I can help."

So saying, you had sent Batman the coordinates to the computer in the Watchtower. The League had been suspicious, not wanting to take the bait if this was just a plot to distract them. Superman was a little reluctant as well. After all, he had only met you once.

You had simply growled in frustration before telling Superman to return to your location with their biggest guns, other then himself, if they were so worried about you carrying out some elaborate scheme.

Superman, desperate for any chance to save lives, had taken Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter to the location you had sent. Just as he remembered, it was an out of the way house just a bit outside of Metropolis. As he flew down to the driveway, he had a brief flashback of the last time he had left you standing there. Though where you had been all smiles and gleaming eyes back then, right then you were standing there on the porch, an impatient scowl on your forehead as you watched them approach. Without an ounce of nervousness you had marched over to them and simply demanded Wonder Woman place her Lasso of Truth around you to see if you were telling the truth. And to seal the deal, you had even agreed to a psychic evaluation by the Martian.

Both of which you had passed with flying colors.

"Now that you've satisfied your paranoia." You stated, pointing towards the sky. "Get your asses in the air and take out those bombs."

The Amazonian and the Martian had been more then a little surprised at your words, but the resident Kryptonian had been more then a little impressed at your display of authority despite facing off against three rather powerful beings. He nodded towards you with a smile. "Yes ma'am." He said, before flying off to the first location as Batman began to relay what you had sent them.

It took the League an hour to dismantle all the bombs and arrest those responsible for the chaos. After the authorities had taken them into custody, Batman had suggested that they regroup at your place rather then the Watchtower.

And so you were faced with the entire Justice League standing in your living room with your elderly grandparents looking on in awe. Good thing the room was big enough to accommodate the sudden influx of musculature. Nana had suggested the League use the dining table for the meeting, and after she had plied them with beverages of their choice, as well as a huge selection of baked goods, Pop-Pop had led her away so that they could speak to you in peace.

You had sat there, hands wrapped around your favorite mug from which you were sipping an iced coffee. Under the scrutiny of masked, as well as maskless eyes, you cleared your throat. "So, which one of you dismantled the bomb in the strip club?" You asked, offering a smile that could only be described as equal parts mischievous and curious.

And that was the rather uneventful story of how you came to work with the League.

There was nothing special about you. Or at least whatever was categorized as 'special' to become a Leaguer. Other then the fact that you had an affinity for computers and a penchant for solving problems, you weren't special. It had started as a hobby when you were younger, puzzles, crosswords, mazes, mystery books, but had slowly become an obsession.

Your brain wouldn't let you rest until you found the solution to whatever problem or mystery that caught your attention.

To test your skills, Batman had given you an almost impossible task. Uncover the identities of all the Leaguers. He had wanted to see if you were as dedicated as you claimed to be. Turns out you already knew half the Leaguers by name for a good long while. And since you had kept it a secret, the brooding Bat had deemed you worthy of his trust. Albeit slightly begrudgingly.

Flash had dubbed you Detective, not very original, but you had gone along with it because really that was half of your job description. The other half was planning strategies by taking various elements into account, but that had come later.

Bottom line?

You were now an official member of the Justice League, which put you in close proximity to a certain blue eyed alien who had taken a shine to you.

And vice versa.

Later down the line, if someone were to ask either you or Clark when had devotion and intimacy begun to take root, the two of you would simply glance at one another and shrug. Because really neither of you had any clue when your amity gave way to affection.

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Well...

It started with an impromptu coffee run.

You had just entered a random coffee shop to buy your favored caffeinated drink. The promise of freshly baked muffins advertised on the cutely drawn blackboard outside had contributed to your decision. You stood at the threshold, taking in the scent of ground coffee beans and baked goods, your gaze roving over the adorable interior, when you had spotted a familiar figure in one of the corner tables. The pencil he held moved feverishly across a writing pad, as if he couldn't wait to get the words out and onto the paper. You moved to take your place in line, after a patron behind nudged you slightly. Mouthing an apology, you quickly took your place, before your eyes returned to the bespectacled man.

A notion began to form in your mind. One that had you purchasing two chocolate muffins rather then one, along with your coffee. Paying the bill, and trying to beat back the flickers of nervousness that seemed to gnaw at your stomach whenever you were in his presence, you approached Clark's table.

He heard your steps before he saw you, and looked up in time to see you set the plate of muffins on the table. The curious expression on his face morphed to one of surprise when he met your gaze. Despite the minimal distance between the both of you, a rather lengthy silence stretched out. It was strange to see him not supporting the blue and red you had gotten used to seeing him in. This was the first time you were seeing Clark as, well, Clark. And despite the glasses he wore, which you had to admit made him look adorable, he looked the same as ever. Perhaps not as imposing, but the presence was there.

It had been a few days since Clark had seen you, and that too had been under the guise of vigilante work. Seeing you standing there, in an unassuming coffee shop, it almost felt as if his mind had conjured up the image. Because how could your meeting with him be so mundane after the previous three interactions you two had had.

Yes three.

He had counted.

"Is this going to be a habit?" You asked, to which he responded by blinking at you owlishly, still a little lost in his mind. Your head nodded in the direction of the muffins. "Me feeding you? I mean, I know the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but I really don't want to give you any ideas. I mean we've only just met."

He didn't respond. His mouth did open, before closing itself again, as if he were looking for the words but couldn't really find them. You laughed softly. "Not so vocal without the cape are you?" You spoke in a low voice. Your words served as a reminder that he knocked out kaijus and demented aliens every other day. And if he could do that without breaking a sweat, then he could talk to you.

His voice returned, and he quickly stood up."No. That's not-" In his haste, the table jostled, his pen dropped to the floor, followed by the writing pad. Luckily the plate of muffins was saved by you in time."Not as quick on your feet either I see." You couldn't help but quip, trying your best to keep your laughter in check. It was strange to see the great Superman loose composure. You would call it flustered, but really why would he feel that way in your presence.

In reality though, that was exactly what Clark was feeling. Flustered. Not entirely a foreign concept to him, after all he had been a normal teenager once. Or as normal as one could get with superpowers.

Gathering his pen and pad, and standing up straight, he shook his head. "It's just, I wasn't expecting to run into you here." He admitted, allowing a smile to overtake his features because despite the initial surprise, Clark couldn't help the small bubble of exuberance that seemed to inflate in his chest. You shrugged. "Well I may live just outside of Metropolis, but I do come to the city. I'm not exactly country folk material like you Mr Kent."

He chuckled, his smile widening. "Clark." The man corrected, holding his hand out for you to shake. As if you were two people who had only just happened to meet in a coffee house.

You smiled back as you returned the lingering handshake. "Y/n Y/l/n."

It continued with an after mission snack break.

Another crises averted, another average day in the life of a hero.

That didn't make the situation any less strenuous then it was. Every problem had its own trials and tribulations, predicaments and dilemmas that required full and absolute attention.

So much so, that you would forget to eat.

For hours and hours on end, you would drink coffee as your only source of sustenance, mostly to keep your brain active, but also because it was easy to consume during the long hours of Earthly calamity.

But once the issue had resolved, the bad guys had retreated to their hideaways to nurse their wounded egos, you allowed yourself to be aware of everything around you. Or more specifically, just how hungry you were. And after a quick break to the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchens of the Watchtower.

Grabbing your snack from wherever you had stored it, you settled onto one of the many tables dotting the dining hall adjacent to the kitchen. You ate slowly, wanting to savor the food after all that you had to deal with. Plus you were too tired to devour everything quickly

Your eyes had been listless, gazing at the wall in front of you, eyes aching from the hours you had spent in front of the screens, ears ringing with the voices that seemed to echo in your brain still.

But then something else entered your line of sight.

A dusty figure clad in a familiar red and blue.

His cape fluttered as he came to sit opposite you, obscuring your view of the wall, but improving it tenfold. He set his own eatables on the table in front of you, unwrapping the first item his hand came in contact with as he began to eat as well.

Your gaze, which still hadn't fully focused, now zeroed in on him, meeting his ever gorgeous blue eyes.

Yes, you obsessed over how ridiculously blue they were.

He didn't say a word, and neither did you. The only sound was the light sound of chewing, and unwrapping whatever food you consumed.

It was quiet, and you were in one another's presence. And it became a ritual after every arduous mission. Which was all of them. Usually people would prefer to talk and analyze after a mission, which yes was taxing, but was also exciting.

But not you two.

A lot could be said through silence.

And those shared moments of tranquility were all you both needed to draw comfort from the other, and for the seeds of affection to slowly begin sprouting.

It carried itself into mundane walks through the city.

You were walking just a step ahead Clark, on call with your Nana as you tried to help her locate the glasses she had misplaced yet again. The man behind you smiled as you held the door open for him since he was holding both your ice creams. You stepped out after him, taking your own ice cream from his hand, continuing your stream of conversation.

Without breaking a stride, Clark gently took your elbow, guiding you so that you walked beside him, away from the edge of the sidewalk.

"I swear I will put a GPS on her glasses when I get home." You grumbled good-naturedly to yourself once your call had ended and you began to dig into your delicious frozen treat. "It's not polite to swear." Clark spoke up, the words an echo of what his Ma would say to him growing up. You rolled your eyes. "Something you keep reminding me Farmboy." You spoke through a mouthful of ice cream, earning a disapproving look from Clark.

You grinned. It was always fun to exasperate Clark with your less then stellar manners. The man was the epitome of practically perfect in every way, and it had become something of a running joke between the both of you. You would highlight any trait that would be deemed discourteous in nature, which Clark would gently try and rectify.

All in good fun of course. Your Nana had been rather strict with your manners just as Clark's mother had been.

Though you didn't have the penchant for carrying handkerchiefs like Clark did, which he now held out to you when some of the ice cream dripped onto your fingers, despite the fact that you were eating from a cup.

It was a hot day.

"How are you not out of these things?" You asked, dabbing away at the stickiness from your fingers. You held on to it, knowing you would spill a little more later. "I mean I've forgotten to return enough of them back." Though you tried to have them washed and returned whenever you had the chance. He shrugged, taking a bite of his own ice cream.

Suddenly he tensed, his entire body going rigid. As someone who was extremely familiar with the posture you were already reaching out for the ice cream he held. "Robbery?" You asked, knowing if it were a more serious issue then your comm would be ringing. He nodded, his face already morphing into an apologetic look, but you nudged him playfully.

"Well don't keep standing around on my account. Someone else might take the scoop."

A second of silence before you both glanced at the ice creams you were holding. You groaned even as Clark burst out laughing. "That was unintentional." You grumbled, shoving him with your shoulder, a feat that would've been impossible given his super-strength yet his body gave in and his feet began to move. "Get to work Farmboy." You ordered, which prompted him to give you a mock salute as he began to walk backwards.

"Yes, Ma'am."

That was kind of becoming his thing for you, you mused to yourself, as you leaned against a nearby pole where Clark had left you. For Clark though? His thing was that you were the one person, other then his parents, who he didn't have to lie to go take care of whoever needed his help.

Readjusting his glasses as he approached you, he couldn't help the smile that slid so easily onto his lips, watching that very same curve decorate your lips when you caught sight of him.

Certainly a sight he would never get tired of.

It trickled into everyday life.

You: 'Link - Superman and Wonder Woman: A Love for the Ages.'

You: 'Link - Is Lex Luthor secretly in love with Superman?'

You:'Link - Green Lantern and Superman: A Secret Love.'

Clark: Why are you sending me these?

You: Because they're all amazing pieces of literature!

You: Plus the arguments made are compelling.

Clark: I am too tired for this.

You: Too tired for your love life? Are all three of your lovers tiring you out or something? Wait, I thought Superman could never get tired.

Clark: I do get tired. Not easily though, but it does happen after a good long fight with someone stronger then me.

You: I'll be sure to add that to your file.

Clark: You have a file on me.

You: Of course!

Clark: And...

You: And every other member of the League.

Clark: There it is.

You: Back to the topic at hand!

Clark: I had hoped you would forget it.

You: Not happening!

You: So tell me! Which is it? Is it the gorgeous Amazonian? The Obsessed arch nemesis? Or the guy with a bad haircut?

Clark: It grows on you.

You: Clark? Honey? You're a nice guy. But NO ONE can justify the atrocity that is Guy Gardner's haircut.

Clark: Agree to disagree.

Clark: Also Honey?

Clark: That's a new one.

You: Meh, I thought I'd try it out. Farmboy was being overused. I'm gonna save it for special occasions now.

Clark: Maybe I should think of nicknames for you too?

Clark: Maybe Buttercup?

You: Buttercup? Really?

Clark: Well, why not? It's the girl's name in Princess Bride isn't it?

You: And that is relevant how?

Clark: Well she calls Westley Farmboy doesn't she? And you call me that as well. So I thought it would be fitting if your nickname were Buttercup.

Clark: Y/n?

Clark: Hello?

Clark: Did you fall asleep?

Clark: No it's too early for you to sleep.

Clark: Y/n?

You: Yeah! Sorry Sorry! Cat knocked over a glass of water. I swear that thing does it on purpose.

Clark: I can't believe you actually named your cat Cat. Not exactly imaginative.

You: Hey! He is named after the cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's you uncultured brute!

You: Which reminds me, I'm adding that movie to our list.

Clark: You do that. Meanwhile I have an article to finish, and new nicknames to think up to give you.

You: Aww aren't you sweet. I'm gonna try and see if I can find any more secret lovers you've been hiding from me.

Clark: I doubt you'll find anything that is even remotely true.

You: What so you've never had a lover or been in love?

Clark: I'm starting to fall in love, if that counts. - Message Deleted

You: Well! You get back to work now Mr. Hotshot Journalist.

You: Hey look! Another nickname.

Clark: And so the list grows.

It slid through the cracks during late night thoughts.

Slipping under the covers after going through with your nightly routines, you wiggled your toes against the softness of the sheets as they enveloped you. Nothing like the feeling of sliding into bed after a long day.

Or rather a long week.

It had been all hands on deck at the Watchtower for almost an entire week. With missions to delegate and monitor in all corners of the globes, and a couple that were off-planet too, you had been sleeping at the Watchtower, in case you were suddenly needed. Sure it had been stressful, and there were times when you were completely overwhelmed when handling multiple missions at the same time, but there were upsides to the situation.

The first was, of course, you were helping out. Trying to make the world a safer place for others. And sure, while that was all good and rewarding, nothing really compared to the feeling you got whenever you would have the chance to spend some extra time with Clark.

Well he had been at the Watchtower as Superman, but honestly these days, when he was with you, the lines between the two were slightly blurred.

It had been a good few months since he had first crashed into your life, literally, and suffice to say, you were one of the few people Clark felt like he didn't have to hide any part of him. Which was why he would seek you out.

And the fact that he was beginning to develop feelings for you was another contributing factor, but lets not get into too much detail here.

Bottom line, he was thinking about the time he had spent with you that week, just as you were.

While you were getting into bed, he was hovering midair, doing one final sweep around Metropolis before heading back home and getting some well earned sleep.

Just as your thoughts drifted towards him, you were at the forefront of his.

There wasn't much rhyme and reason, or heads and tails when it came to you thinking about Clark. His name, or rather the thought of him, would drift into your mind while you were doing the most mundane of tasks or perhaps a more decisive scenario which required your best foot forward.

A playful thought of Clark helping you with your deep cleaning phase by picking up all the furniture easily. What he would think of the new outrageous nail color you would buy. His calm, gentle voice in your head, telling you to step back, take a breath, reevaluate the situation. Think with a clear head, he had told you so many times, and now the words had become your rock, your reassurance during times of distress. Where your racing mind would overthink and over-plan, and the mere thought of him would calm you down.

Clark seemed to be on the same tangent as you. A memory of your smile would suddenly make him feel less alone. The feel of your hand in his while crossing the street would make his heart beat just a little faster. And the sound of your voice? It echoed in his mind, his voice of reason, which had been a mixture of his parents voice for so long, was beginning to fade to the background, and instead there was your voice. Telling him he was a good person. That he deserved to be here just as any Human on Earth.

Another thought involving you entered his mind, and deciding that maybe this was something that would benefit the both of you, he quickly flew home, and after changing out of his signature blue and red costume, and into his civilian clothing, he took flight once more.

You could feel the pull of sleep starting to slow your brain down. Though not even the lull of peaceful darkness could compare to the level of contentment you felt while thinking about Clark. Smiling up at the ceiling, you turned your head to the side, your eyes finding the window that allowed you to glimpse the treetops and the distant city lights outside.

Only to find your view obscured by the sight of a figure hovering in midair, a smile on his lips and a question in his eyes.

Prompting you to sit up straight, all notions of sleep forgotten.

It translated into impromptu flying sessions.

For the first time, and certainly not the last, you were standing at your window, smiling at the man just outside.

"This is a step up." You said, after a few moments of silence, a silence that was charged with things that were unsaid and yet you felt to the very core of your being. Clark, who had been a little lost in his own admiration of you, let out a small hum, wanting to savor the sound of your voice, committing it to memory where it would become an even stronger part of his consciousness.

You gestured to the window, prompting him to let out a small laugh as he rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed with how your first meeting had gone. "Yeah, I really crashed into your life didn't I?" He had forgone his glasses, and it was strange to see him in his civilian clothes without it, but not unpleasant though.

"Well, Superman isn't exactly known for his subtlety." You commented, climbing over the ledge of the window and settling atop it, your legs hanging over the edge. "That's Batman's forte."

You were wearing your comfiest pajamas, and they may not have been the most stylish or flattering, you weren't conscious about how you looked in front of Clark. Just as he wasn't about how he looked when he was with you.

There were no pretenses or masks to hide behind. And that level of trust was scary.

Consoling, yet scary at the same time.

Clark shrugged. "Well, what we're about to do isn't subtle either." A pinch of confusion creased your forehead, before it cleared when Clark held his hand out to you.

"Wanna see the world how I see it?"

And a few breaths later you were in the air, the stars closer then they had ever been as you looked down at the world. The clouds brushed against your skin, the wind cold against your cheeks. The lights of the city you both loved passing by underneath, the sounds barely reaching you so far up. The moon was showing half her face, but it was bright enough to bath everything around you in a silvery glow.

A smile curved your lips as Clark held you to his chest, taking you on your very first flight.

The first of many, he vowed that night, watching you laugh with unbridled joy, arms held aloft at your sides as you took in the beauty and wonder of the world around you. A world he had seen for so long and finally had someone to share it with.

Suddenly he shot upwards, taking the both of you even further away from the world. Now there were only clouds surrounding you, the stars winking at you, and the moon watching, ever silent and watchful.

You turned in his arms, your hands raising to rest on his shoulders as your eyes shone with an emotion that was unnamed as of yet. "How do you force yourself not to fly all the time?" You asked, your voice echoing with the excitement you felt. Clark, his arms wound securely around your waist shrugged. "I like being down there walking around. It's where all the people are."

Unaware of the fleeting thought that nearly slipped him, you simply shook your head at him. It amazed you sometimes, how a person who had such great power found happiness in the most mundane of tasks.

But then you were glad he did.

You both hovered there for a good long while, with you turning in his arms once again to watch the clouds as they floated around, providing you brief glimpses of the world below every now then. But also because if you looked into Clark's blue eyes even a second longer, you knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself and just act on the impulse that seemed to grip you a lot these days.

Maybe just not yet, you mused to yourself, you arms wrapping around his as you savored the closeness of his body, and the feeling of being in his arms, protected and loved.

And as you leaned your back against him, your head resting just under his chin, Clark allowed his eyes to close, the softness of your body a welcome distraction from your scent which seemed to overwhelm him in the best possible ways.

You didn't know how long you stayed there, but finally, the events of the past week began to catch up to you, and you felt your eyes growing heavier and heavier.

Until finally you fell asleep.

You woke up late next morning in your bed, covered with your blanket, your open window the only reassurance that what you had experienced wasn't a dream.

It took root and held fast during times of danger.

Getting caught in the crossfire had certainly not been part of the agenda.

But there you were, nursing a bleeding arm, courtesy of a grazed bullet, and trying your best to make yourself as small as you could behind the half demolished wall to keep from getting shot again.

The mission had required a tech expert, and though you had no practice in the field, you had been the only option. Any other choice working with the League was busy.

So, you'd been it.

A spare domino mask, paired with the tech embedded Kevlar bodysuit you had designed was your outfit of choice. Clark had NOT been happy about the prospect of you going out in the field untrained as you were. Which is why he was on standby in case you needed help.

Though you did have Hawkgirl with you as your source of getting in and out of the location, plus as someone who would watch your back.

The mission started without any issues, and only went off track when both you and Hawkgirl decided to investigate deeper into the underground location. The armed individuals that greeted you when the elevator doors opened were suddenly a surprise. So far your presence had been undetected.

Somehow, you had both managed to evade your would-be-captors, and had been rushing to the door that would take you to the open skies. But a trigger happy guard with a bazooka had other plans.

Kendra had wrapped her wings around you in an effort to shield you from the blast. But that meant she had to take the brunt of the incoming missile. Knocked unconscious, your only way to get her out was to drag her along, which is when the bullet grazed your arm, leaving you to grit your teeth as you continued your attempts to try and escape with Kendra.

The arrival of Lex Luthor stopped any further efforts.

Stunned, and yet not at all surprised by the person behind the codes that had the ability to shut down any weapons system in the galaxy, you stood in front of your fallen comrade, staring down the man who had a personal vendetta against the man you loved.

Your comm went off, Clark's voice coming through that help was on the way. So far, radio silence had been your friend, but that went out the window when Kendra fell. And though you knew Clark could handle himself, your gut told you that something was off.

Luthor looked much too smug for someone who had just found two Leaguers stealing from him.

Ever the subtle specialist, Clark came crashing through the roof. Immediately every weapon was facing his direction, but being bullet proof had it's perks.

However, it wasn't the guns the guards held that had your attention.

No, it was the gun Luthor held. One that seemed to emanate a faint green glow.

Your eyes widened behind your mask.

Your cry of warning was lost to the sound of the gun as Luthor squeezed the trigger.

The bullet met it's mark, and Clark dropped to the ground, clutching his side as he screamed in pain.

Your mind went into overdrive. Scenarios and possibilities with every possible outcome playing in your mind as you watched the Kryptonian struggle to get back up. Luthor began his grandstanding, deciding you weren't worth his time. Which gave you the chance to call for help. "Superman is down." You called into the comm, your voice low but not without a tremble that had every listener on the other end come to a stand still. "All Leaguers report to this location. Superman is down!" You were unable to get any further as Luthor raised his gun yet again.

Without fully comprehending what you were doing, you picked up the gun one of the guards had dropped and aimed it at the mad man, pulling the trigger as you did.

The bullet caught him in the shoulder, making him drop the weapon he held. As Luthor stumbled to the side, his guards tried to close in on you, but Kendra, having regained consciousness, stood guard. Covered in dust, bruises, and bleeding from one too many cuts and wounds, she snarled at the weapons being pointed in your general direction.

Luthor's curses and name calling became background noise as you raced over to Clark, dropping to his side and assessing the damage. Kendra was on a rampage, and the entire guard population had turned their attention to her. Leaving you to tend to the fallen Kryptonian. You mouthed his name softly, watching his features twist from the pain. They seemed to soften at the sight of you safe and next to him. Your hand found his, and he held on fast.

A green glow pulsed from the side of his abdomen, dark red blood slowly pooling under him. The sight of it almost made you sick. Taking his cape, you pressed it against the wound to try and stop the bleeding.

"Did I tell you, you look great in that suit?" Came his voice, rasping and slightly broken from the pain he was feeling. Despite the eminent danger, and the fact that he was bleeding, somehow, only Clark would find a way to try and cheer you up. "Think it needs a hint of blue and red." You responded, pressing harder against his wound, feeling the warmth of his blood seep through your gloves. Clark groaned, his entire body trembling.

"Just hold on." You reassured him, just as Supergirl burst through the ceiling. Clark looked like he wanted to say something but you shook your head. "Save your strength." You said, as Batman dropped to the ground, and Flash rushed in followed by a gust of wind. Batman took out multiple guards with his batarangs. Kara began to punch and kick, taking out anyone not on their side. Flash raced off to where Luthor was trying to make his escape. Kendra, reassured that they would be find, dropped to her knees on Clark's other side.

"We need to get him to the Fortress." You said, glancing around and locating Kara. "Supergirl! Take him to the Fortress! Now!" The urgency in your voice was enough to drag Kara from her task of punching out anything that moved. She quickly flew over to gather her cousin in her arms and begin to float away.

Your hand held on to his till the last second, your fingers slipping from his as his bright blue eyes slowly slid close.

It found it's way in during conversations.

It didn't take him more then a day to be completely healed of the wound he had suffered. The Automatons had made quick work of getting the Kryptonite bullet out and exposing him to the sun so he would heal faster. Still, it had left him weak.

A strange sensation since he was not used to feeling like that. Despite the quick healing, you had yelled at him over the phone, saying that if he even thought of coming back to the Watchtower to report for duty, you would drag his behind back to the Fortress and lock him inside the gosh dang place.

Well you had been more colorful with your vocabulary, which had resulted in Clark telling you off about your utilization of language, but had also made his chest feel just a little more warmer.

A feeling that had nothing to do with the sun shining down on him right then.

He was back home, sitting on the steps of the back porch, looking around at the open expanse of landscape that was as familiar to him as the color of your eyes. Clark shook his head. No matter what he thought about, his mind always wandered back to you.

"How're you feelin' there honey?" Ma Kent's voice came through the screen door as she exited the house and approached him, holding two cups of what he could smell was some hot chocolate.

Not exactly the drink one would have on a hot summer day, but Clark didn't mind.

Who could ever say no to chocolate, you had once told him.

"Fine, Ma." He responded, half distracted, taking the cup from her hand and cradling the warm ceramic between his palms, lost in thought.

Martha Kent had been on this Earth for a long time. She had raised her son since they had found him in that strange rocket ship. She had seen him through his teenage years. And now, into his adult years.

"So, Y/n huh?" She asked, settling down just behind him on one of the chairs she had placed there years ago. The woman hid her smile in her cup when Clark turned to look at her, eyes wide. He didn't even have time to give voice to his question when his mother responded. "I know because you've been talking about her quite often the past few months. Sighing to yourself more then you usually do, don't deny it." She cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to reiterate her statement. "Also, all mothers have that kind of intuition when it comes to their children."

There was no chance he would be able to convince his mother that there was nothing going on. Though his mother knowing gave him the advantage of asking for advice on how to go further with what he was feeling for you. Sighing loudly, he stood, taking his cup with him and taking the seat next to her. "Nothing get pasts you huh Ma?" He quipped, shooting his Mother a mischievous smile. Martha took a sip of her hot chocolate. "When you have a son who can lift a tractor by the time he is a teenager, you learn to see things a little differently honey."

Clark chuckled at the memory, his eyes watching the mini-marshmallows float around the surface of the hot chocolate. "But to answer your earlier question, yes." He took a deep breath, as if he were bracing himself, before he said your name. Martha's smiled widened. Her son had a big heart. He had a lot of love to give. And if he could give it to you, then he would be all the better for it.

"So tell me, why haven't you told her how you really feel?" She asked, to which he gave a shrug. "Because I don't know if she feels the same way. And we have a great friendship. I can't risk loosing that." That was what terrified him most of all. Not the thought of loosing something he would never have, but rather the thought of loosing what he already had with you. His mother made a small humming sound, leaning back into her chair as she took a contemplative sip from her drink. "You may have your doubts dear, but I have a feeling she feels the same way."

Her son stared at her, gobsmacked. Martha grinned. "Plus, she's been asking me to send her daily updates on how you are doing because she says and I quote." The woman quickly fished her cellphone out of her pocket and opened the device to the relevant screen. "Clark would have a nuclear missile embedded with Kryptonite launched at him and he'd still say he was okay!"

A breathless laugh left his lips as his shoulders shook and his eyes shown with mirth and...love.

Because that was what it was.

He was falling in love with you.

And that was that.

While Clark was coming to terms with his feelings for you, you were coming to terms with your own feelings for him.

To put it simply, you weren't yourself.

Though you hadn't suffered any major injuries, Batman had ordered you to take a few days off to recuperate. It wasn't everyday that you got shot at, watched your comrade get hit with a bazooka, and also watch the man you loved get shot.

Though the context of that last part was something that was only known to you.

Because yes, you were in love with Clark.

Probably had been since that first coffee run, but you couldn't be too sure?

And while you were still on the fence about whether what you felt was authentic, Pop-pop was on an entirely different level.

"How's tha' boy o' yours?" He asked, lumbering into your quite corner located inside the tent-like structure you had kept up out on the big balcony since your younger years. You had built it using one of Nana's big white sheets when you were twelve, and from there it had evolved. Wires, fairy lights, wooden structure to give it support, it had become something of a safe haven for you inside your home.

Momentous from your childhood were scattered all around, knick-knacks you had gathered over the years, pictures pinned to the fabric wall, cushions and blankets to make it comfortable, and a small refrigerator where you stored all your snacks.

Looking up from where you had been crafting another lucky star origami to pass the time, you rolled your eyes at the older man. "He isn't my boy, Pop-pop." You responded with a huff, throwing the finished star into the small container that was half full with your efforts over the last hour. Or was it more?

The man grunted as he plopped down on one of the sofas you had brought outside for your grandparents to sit on whenever they wanted to join you. They couldn't exactly sit on the floor for hours like you could. "Bu' youse wished he was, don't ya?" His voice was muffled, and sure enough, when you raised your head to look at him, he already had his old pipe in his mouth, ready to start puffing away at it. "Ah' raised ya since youse was abou' the height o' ma knee Girlie." He added as a warning in case you tried to lie to him, which you had been contemplating. "So, don'chu even try."

A small huff of laughter fell from your lips, as you finally set your task aside and turned your full attention to your Pop-pop. "You always knew when something was on my mind Pop-pop." You spoke softly, shifting forward you were sitting at his feet, hands on his knees as you rested your head on top. You felt his gnarled, wrinkled yet familiar old hands begin to stroke through your hair. "Well, af'er yer Nana, youse my girl." He reminded you, the affection in his voice evident. "So, course ah'd know wha's on yer mind."

You smiled before it slowly faded and you turned your head so you could look at him. "He got hurt. Bad." You summarized, not wanting to get into too much detail. "And he's fine and everything, but it just made me realize how much I depend on him to just be there you know?" Translating what you were feeling into words wasn't entirely your forte, but you were willing to try. "I mean, what if something bad had happened to him. Something bad did happen to him. How am I supposed to get past that?"

Your gaze found your Pop-pop's, lost, confused and scared. The old man hummed under his breath, resting his hand gently on your head as he responded. "The answers qui't simple Girlie." The words were spoken in such an obvious tone that you blinked. "You jus' hold on t'him."

"Hold on, an' don' let go."

It secured it's hold because you both wanted the other to find repose.

"Should we call in Superman?" Green Lantern's voice came crackling through the comms.

"Negative." You responded, your hands flying over the screen hovering before you, trying to determine if a direct approach would be the best way to neutralize a threat. "Superman is not to be called unless the situation is out of hand."

Green Lantern groaned in annoyance. "Oh come on! Things will go a lot faster if he were here." He moaned. His words were followed by a minor explosion which had you pursing your lips. "Did you blast something that didn't need to be?" You asked, your teeth gritted, knowing that the damages would have to come out of the Bruce Wayne Superhero Damage Control Fund, or SDCF for short.

A beat of silence. "Yeah." Came the reply, sounding just a little bit ashamed.

You inhaled through your nose, trying your best to stay your anger as you responded. "I am only going to say this once, so you had better listen to me loud and clear Lantern." You began, your voice brimming with just barely controlled rage.

"Stop causing unnecessary damage that will hurt our image. Second, and most importantly, Superman is not just some random dude I have on speed-dial that I can call just because your lazy ass decides that whatever shit you're dealing with needs to be taken care of quickly, because you want to get back home and sit on your lazy ass."

That was only half-true.

You did have him on speed-dial.

Absolute silence followed your words.

"Am I clear?"

A chorus of 'Yes Ma'am' echoed in your ear, with Green Lantern's being more louder then the rest.

"Good." You responded, already having decided on a plan to take care of the problem. "Now listen up!"

Within two hours the heroes were returning to the Watchtower for their after mission meeting. Giving you enough time to massage your ears to try and get rid of the ringing, and also to check your phone.

A message cropped up, and you smiled when you opened it. A picture greeted you, one which showed the Kents smiling at the camera with Pa Kent sitting in the seat of honor with a birthday hat on his head, and a cake with several birthday candles decorating the surface. A brief text message followed.

Clark: I already saved you a slice.

You smiled to yourself, feeling that last bit of annoyance and tension leaving your body as you did.

A few days later

"No." Clark's tone, voice and stance was firm as he stared down at the red-clad superhero.

Flash's face, that had been the epitome of hope and eagerness fell flat. Even with the cowl half covering his face, Flash was easy to read. "Wha-why not?" He protested.

Clark gave him a look. "Because she's asleep. It's been a tough couple of days, and she deserves to rest. Manhunter can help delegate the mission." Flash pouted. "But Detective is more fun!" With the final complaint he raced off to find, and probably annoy, Manhunter.

Sighing to himself Clark cast his eyes down on the video call that was still going through on his phone. A video call that he had been taking with you before you had promptly fallen asleep mid-conversation. Seems like your phone had enough juice to be able to run for a good hour now.

For his part, Clark hadn't ended the call. Instead he had kept it going, glancing at his screen every now and then. Mostly to reassure himself that you were asleep, but also to make sure that you didn't have a nightmare after all that you had seen on your screen the past couple of days.

Human trafficking.

One of the worst crimes any living creature could commit. And when it included helpless, innocent children?

In a way Clark was glad you hadn't been down in the field. You wouldn't have held back like he had.

His eyes drifted to his screen again and there you were still asleep. And you stayed that way for a good few hours. And even after your phone finally died and the image of you disappeared from his screen, Clark kept his super-hearing out.

Ready to fly to you should you have a nightmare.

Unknown to him, talking to Clark before sleeping and with his voice echoing in your ear helped you find the peace of mind you needed to sleep fitfully and through the night.

It cemented it's place during all those times when you both felt alone.

Him loosing his home planet and being one of the last of his kind.

You were on a rampage.

An online rampage, but there was some damage, ergo, a rampage.

You were shutting down chats and websites, as well as anyone who dared talk bullshit about the sweetest man you had ever met.

"Alright karenagainstsuper." You growled under your breath and cracked your knuckles. "Let's see how you feel about me releasing these pictures." Pictures that you had attained from a security camera near a drop-off location. A drop-off location for the homeless, where a person could leave any donations they could or wanted to for the homeless.

And there was Karen, plain as day, taking her pick from the donation boxes left around the big box since it was too full.

Just as you hit Enter and watched the pictures go out into the online world, a voice came from behind. "I wouldn't want to be on your bad side." You spun around in your chair, watching as Clark moved to sit down across from you, holding the tray that held your favorite sandwich with all the trimmings, and one for him. "Why is that?" You asked, closing the lid of your laptop slightly, mostly because you wanted Clark to know he had your full attention.

But also because you didn't want him to see what you were doing.

Clark, of course, knew you. And so he knew exactly, what you were up to.

"Well I wouldn't want you digging into my past and pulling up pictures of me committing some crime." You let out a aloud HA that had several patrons giving you a bemused look. But you ignored them. "The day Clark Kent commits a crime, is the day I give up my caffeine."

And you loved your caffeine, so that was never happening.

Clark made a face. "I've done some bad things in my life." He protested, to which you snorted with laughter. "Oh yeah? Like what? Calling the cops cuz the neighbors were having a loud party?" You quipped, grinning at his crestfallen face, confirming that he had done it at least once.

"Or sneaking out past curfew but then telling your mother where you were last night." Clark blinked, blue eyes wide. That was accurate. Way too accurate. "Have you been talking to Ma?" He asked, his tone accusing as he pointed a finger at you. Taking a bite from your sandwich, you shrugged. "We text sometimes. She says she needs the practice."

Pursing his lips, and deciding it was best to change the subjects lest you reveal something else his mother had told you, he nodded towards your laptop. "So what did Karen do?"

Immediately you scowled. "She was talking trash about Superman." And that served as enough explanation. Clark sighed. "Y/n. You can't go after everyone who talks bad about Superman."

Anger surged through your veins as you brought a fist down on the table, loud and enraged. "I can and I will." The tone of your voice, however, certainly did not match the emotion behind your action. It was protective, passionate and, most of all, resolute.

This was an argument the two of you had had before.

You knew how Clark would hold his head high, and say that whatever people said about him didn't effect him, but words had power. And if you had the means to try and shield him from the ugliness of the world, then you were doing it.

Your voice lowered as you continued. "You risk your life everyday to help and save people, and most of them can't even be bothered seeing all the good that you do. All they're focused on is that you're a being not from this planet. They should be relieved that someone is actually helping them! That with all the power you share with the world, you also share your kind and gentle heart and it just-" You paused as your voice caught in your throat.

Your eyes felt hot as tears blurred your vision. Unable to meet his gorgeous blue eyes you looked away. "It just makes me so mad and sad that people see you as someone dangerous, despite all the good that you do."

Neither of you said anything after your little outburst. You focused more on finishing your sandwich and avoiding looking Clark in the eye. On the other hand, Clark couldn't look away from you.

Not even for a minute.

Finally, he spoke. "You know I could say the same about you."

His words came as a surprise, and it was evident with the way you looked up at him. "You lost your parents when you were really young." Your heart twinged at the reminder, your head growing heavy with memories of all that had transpired that fateful day. "You were bullied mercilessly growing up." Something you had shared with him a long time ago. "And yet, you turned into this amazing and kind person who is always thinking of others before she even thinks about herself."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, blinking rather owlishly as you cleared your throat and shrugged. "Yeah well, what good would it do if I had let their words get to me."

Clark smiled in triumph. "Exactly."

Eyes widening in realization, you stared at him, a little lost for words. He shrugged. "So, yeah their words are hurtful. But as long as I have people like Ma, Pa, my friends." His hand slid across the table to grasp yours. "And you, to remind me that I'm not alone. I'll be just fine."

A soft laugh left your lips as your eyes lingered where his hand grasped yours. "Well you can count on me never leaving your side Clark. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

Clark grinned. "I'm counting on it."

And finally, it bloomed in times of peace and tranquility.

The night had taken a rather unexpected turn.

One where Clark had flown you home and you had urged him to stay because of the weather forecast predicting a rainstorm approaching. He had dropped you on your balcony, and after opening the covering that would protect your little haven from the rain, the both of you had decided to watch the approaching storm roll in from the safety of the tent.

That's where you both still were. Inside the tent, but now, rather then the soft sound of your voices conversing, the only sound that came was that of deep breathing.

Beneath the gentle fairy lights, and the lulling sound of the rain, you were both sound asleep.

Together.

Clark was laying on his back, one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his chest, atop which your head rested, your own arm curved along his torso. Your legs were a tangled mess, half hidden in the throw you had inside the tent.

Had you started out that way?

Maybe not.

But, safe to say, you had both gravitated towards one another and found the peace and tranquility you were both missing.

In each other.

"Take me up?"

He blinked, but then he nodded. "After you put on a jacket." He might not feel the cold, but he knew how easily you got cold. Rolling your eyes at his fussiness, but smiling at his thoughtfulness, you quickly stood up and after finding your jacket, pulled it on. Clark, meanwhile, had opened the window and had already stepped out onto the ledge. The window was big enough for a man of his size to get in and out easily.

"Ready?" He asked, holding his hand out to help you climb out as well. You nodded.

With your hand in his, he pulled you towards him, your back to his chest. With both his arms wrapped around your waist, he began to ascend.

The snowflakes continued to fall around you, soft and gentle. Some of them even brushed against your upturned face, melting into your cheeks and eyelashes. But you didn't mind.

The view that greeted you was something out of a fairy tale. It had to be.

Everything was white and covered in snow and looked so peaceful. It was amazing how only yesterday Earth had been a battleground, and now?

"It's so nice and quiet." You spoke softly, your head falling back, a reoccurring act, since you did it whenever Clark took you flying. You couldn't help it. It felt like the most natural of things to do.

But this time, it was a little different.

Clark was holding you a little ways up then he normally would. Which meant that your neck, and not your forehead was in perfect alignment to his features. His nose brushed against your neck, prompting you to let out an involuntary sigh at the gentle sensation that you felt from it's initial point down to the very tips of your toes.

And maybe it was the sound that compelled him. Maybe it was the overall feeling of holding you in his arms. Maybe it was your scent that he could never get enough of. Maybe it was just you, your wonderful self, making his life all the more brighter and worth living. Or maybe it was something that felt natural to him.

Whatever it was, he couldn't help himself. Couldn't stop himself as his lips pressed to your skin, and you felt the warmth of his mouth against your soft neck, your pulse fluttering just underneath the surface.

It was gentle, and yet it was not brief.

It was not a kiss on the lips, and yet it was more intimate.

And when he finally pulled back, his gaze half-lidded, every sense he possessed over-stimulated with every part of you, your head turned so you could look at him.

The silent question that burned in your eyes had him shrugging slightly. "Well it was bound to happen." He said, shifting you in his arms so that your front was resting against his chest. "I mean," His nose brushed against your own as he closed his eyes, just breathing you in. "I have been in love with you for almost a year now."

The sound of your gentle laughter had his heart beating just a little faster. "And here I thought," You whispered, lips brushing against his, your fingers roving through his soft black hair, prompting him to hold you just a little tighter. "I would be the one to reveal that I was head over heels for you."

And in that moment, as your lips finally danced in an embrace they had long since craved, no other words were needed.