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*
It was the next day when we found out exactly how long it took for a human body to lose magnetic power.
Eight hours.
For a Kryptonian body? Twenty four and counting.
Clark couldn’t go near any of the tools in the shed or the barn and he couldn’t watch TV without screwing up the reception. The same went with radios and microwaves and let's just say Clark's truck didn't get very far when he tried to make a delivery for his mom.
But that was ok since Clark enjoyed observing as I unrolled the newest Planet edition onto on the blanket and read from it in my most sincere voice. Clark and I stayed out in the back forty of the Kent farm most of that weekend. It became our favorite, private spot.
Apparently it wasn’t just the Shark fans that witnessed Clark and I’s candid kiss the night before. Someone from the Daily Planet staff snapped a shot us just before the lights went out and now our pictures were posted all over the front page. They were calling it the “Kiss of the Century, a kiss powerful enough to cause a blackout”. My editor thought she recognized me and begged for an exclusive, but I declined and denied Clark and I’s identities, knowing that anonymity was something better than celebrity.
“Kiss of the century, huh?” I heard Clark say, sprawled out on a red blanket where he’d been all day. He had magnetic chess pieces lined on his stomach and thought it would be cute to utilize his special ability to be a chess board before it faded away.
“Yeah,” I said, squinting through the sunshine to read the exact line, “says here we had enough chemistry to take down the entire grid.” I studied Clark’s chest, and moved a chess piece there. Shelby trotted out from the tall spears of grass around us and picked a spot near me to lay down. Shelby was the only other soul who knew about our secret spot in the Kent's quiet field.
“They might be right. Luckily, we were out here last night.” He moved a piece from his stomach, lower, not taking his eyes off of me. “We might have taken down more than a few grids. Possibly the whole continent.”
I smiled seductively, and raised a brow.
He laughed and rolled closer to me, lifting his arm lazily to rub behind Shelby's ears. “Though, I’m kinda sad our pictures are anonymous.”
I smiled crookedly, surprised that this admission coming from Clark Kent, the king of enigmas. “Why’s that?” I raised my hand idly, stroking Shelby's other ear, eliciting a drawn out sigh.
He shrugged, and turned over, disregarding the chess pieces as they fell under him. “I wanted to maybe say something. Declare my love for you on the front page for everyone to see, something romantic like that.”
I snorted and laughed. “Clark, that’s really corny. But coming from you, it’s sweet.”
“So," he smiled innocently, "what you’re saying is,” he crawled closer, “I’m like sweet corn?”
I rolled my eyes and rolled over, inviting him to snuggle next to me. “Well you were raised on a farm.”
He giggled in my ear like a schoolboy and began to rain kisses down my neck. “They might recognize us on the street from our pictures, Chlo… maybe then I’ll be able to step forward, and make that statement.” He kissed me again.
I sighed and felt my body melt into the warm blanket, my skin soaking in the yellow sun above us. Clark's lips felt even warmer against my exposed skin. “I guess we’ll just have to wear disguises when we’re in the city.” He kissed my brows, then my eye lids. “You, glasses.” His lips trailed my temple to my ear, fluttering kisses there. “Me, a brunette?”
“I like that.” He said, and I opened my eyes to see him watching me with a hungry look. Clark and I were together under the sun and I could feel him energizing, converting that energy into a warmth that cradled my body, and I felt safe, secure, so close to the closest soul that loved me.
I drank in that moment, absorbing all of Clark's strength and beauty as he looked down over me. I was happy, very happy. And I knew, that no one else would ever make me feel the way Clark did. In that moment, neither Clark nor I worried about the world, nor did we worry about anything that came from other worlds far away. No matter what would happen later on in the day or the next, I knew that nothing would change how I felt about Clark. Nothing, after all, ever had.
“And I guess we’ll have to stop going to Sharks games.” I said, twirling my fingers in his sideburns.
He laughed, and I watched as his eyes danced above my own, the breeze picking up his dark hair that tickled my nose. “Chlo, for the record,” his lips descended down towards mine, “ I hate football.”
*
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