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Giovanni had always been Lois and Clark’s favorite opera — a coincidence, really. The latest Metropolis Award Winning show was back in the city and after calling a few contacts, Lois had managed to get two of the best seats in the theater; a theater box that offered a great view to the stage.
The evening had started with the promise of fun and romance; it had been a long time since Lois and Clark had found time to go out on a date night. After dating for two years and living together for half that time, they had found a rhythm that allowed them to decompress from their respective duties and do something at least three times a week, even if at home.
She was in a long green dress and he was in a gray suit that gracefully contrasted with her gown. Lois had found a way to comfortably sit as she leaned toward him, his strong warm arms hugging her from behind as they quietly enjoyed the show.
Even with red lips, Lois never shy away from sharing kisses with him, and brushed his lips with her fingers afterwards. After the last one, their foreheads rested against each other and they exchanged murmurs of sweet nothings.
From there, everything happened too fast. It seemed that Lex Luthor was on parole and he had gotten his hands on a warsuit. The heavy steps he gave while wearing it were loud enough to echo into the auditorium, but it had been his hostile and aggressive invasion what ultimately interrupted the opera. The aria had morphed into screams as the intimidating warsuit left destruction in his path; broke seats and threw them out of its way as Luthor scanned the audience for his target.
People pushed in desperate need to evacuate and get away from him. Lex didn’t care for them so let them leave.
Looking up to the theater boxes, he found the person he was looking for: the only one crazy enough to stay inside and try record him with her phone as she took advantage of the camera microphone to narrate what was happening.
Taking off his fishbowl helmet, Lex Luthor let Lois Lane take a good look at him. “If it isn’t the people’s princess.” A sinister grin greeted her as he opened his arms wide, “Metropolis’s one true hero…”
She was quiet, trying to stay stoic and to keep her fingers from shaking as she stayed behind the balcony. Lois could feel her heart beating loud and fast, her breathing was also out of control. She looked behind her shoulder, just ten seconds ago she had insisted for Clark to sneak out so he could suit-up; she’d be fine. There was no chance in hell, she’d miss this for the world.
Her facial gesture grew into shock as the man before her became more angry and his face flushed. Lois kept the phone up — no matter what, she was not going to stop recording him.
“You took everything away from me!” He hissed between teeth, “RUINED ME.” Lex brought his right arm to the front, his fist closed, as he aimed toward the investigative reporter across the auditorium.
Lois let out a gasp at the sound of a missile being shot. Her first reaction was to cover her face with her arms and throw herself onto the ground, hope she was able to dodge her death penalty.
Faster than a bullet, Superman was one last breath away from missing the bullet. He shielded Lois as the missile exploded on his lower chest, leaving a black rounded mark on his blue suit.
The shockwaves released upon impact still made the theater box crumble onto the auditorium bellow, destroying it fully. Superman had been fast to shield Lois with his body, using his cape to cover her completely as she coughed due to the debris raining over them.
Panting, a dreadful voiced asked; “Are you okay?” Concern eyes found her face as she looked up, Lois had a few scratches on her cheek and a cut across her eyebrow.
All she could offer was a nod. She gulped, and tried to articulate; “Ha-have you seen my phone?” Catching the look he was giving her, she rolled her eyes, “He’s getting away, I’ll be fine.” A faint smile reassured him as a trembling hand rested over his shoulder.
Superman took it and frowned at the evident bruising and wounds in it. He brought it to his lips and kissed it before nosing into it.
“Go get him…” A murmur insisted.
He cupped her face, cleaned some of the blood off her cheek with his thumb, and then pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.
On his end, Luthor had figured the best thing to do was leave now that his plans had been ruined once again. The last thing he knew, he was being pulled from the back of his suit and tossed across the room, through the wall.
Finding himself hitting the pavement chest down, he turned around just to find Superman above him, standing right beside; furious, distressed, and completely out of his mind. Lex saw a tight fist over his face before he closed his eyes.
All his life, Clark had worked on restraining himself. Aware that he could destroy the entire planet with just a punch, he lived in fear. He had to meticulously control his strength, even when it came to giving the woman he loved a hug.
But not right now. Right now his heart was terrified and his brain not thinking. That missile had been so close. This clown had disrupted the one night he had with the love of his life and almost took her away from him. The thought of ever losing her sicken him. His most terrifying nightmare was that he wouldn’t be able to save her if something ever happened to her, and tonight he had had a little glimpse of it — curtesy of the man he was punching without mercy.
All he could think about was how his thumb had a little of her blood, making him unaware of how now his hand and part of his suit was tainted with the other man’s blood. He wanted to kill him and possibly nothing could stop him from accomplishing it.
His wrath was being fed by the crowd that was quickly gathering around; “Kill him!” They cheered the Man of Steel; the man trapped under his tall frame was Metropolis’s number one enemy; the artist of the massive destruction from two years ago. And for that, people loathed him.
He was ready to discharge all his anger in one last punch when a soothing yet firm voice successfully stopped him mid air:
“Superman, that’s enough.”
No one said his name like she did. Ever since she had confronted him about his secret identity, she barely used it but when she did; it had a reaction in him than nothing else could evoke.
His gesture loosen and so did the fist he was still holding over his shoulder. Superman offered a hand to help Luther stand up. The man in the warsuit took the warning look that the man in blue tights was giving him before he shifted his eyes toward the entrance of the theater; Lois Lane had spared his life. They exchanged a look as the warsuit sprung its mechanical wings and Luthor flew away.
With him gone, the crowd started to disperse. Superman looked down to his hands, realizing they were stained with blood. He then examined his suit. Still a little disoriented, he turned over his shoulder to find Lois was still standing there: her dress was ruined, her hair messy, and her scratches, wounds, and bruises still very livid.
Superman rushed toward her, and started to examine her; making sure the blood was not hers. In public, he couldn’t do more than just run his bloody fingers through her hair. Lois closed her eyes and leaned her head to his touch.
Carrying her in his arms, they flew away.
At her insistence that she was fine and him performing an X-ray scan on her, they had agreed to skip the hospital and head home.
Lois was only wearing the top of his pajamas and he was only in the matching pants. They had taken a much needed joint shower and now were in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as Clark attended her wounds.
After cleaning them, they weren’t as scandalous as they had seemed back in the theater, but still enough to make him sad and upset that he couldn’t prevent for her to leave without a scratch.
Her eyes were lovingly on him as Lois quietly watched him with a smile. She lightly complained as he worked on putting a butterfly bandage across a cut she had in her arm.
“Did you ever find your phone?” He bashfully asked, aware that she was looking at him with eyes that would melt his heart. He knew by the way her free hand pushed his curls back.
“Yeah.” She snorted. “Thank you…” She ran her knuckles down his cheeks and her fingers worked on tilting his chin up. Once they made contact she added; “You saved my life today.”
“You are so wounded though.” He looked down and shook his head. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. I don’t want to ever see you with even the tiniest of scratches on you.”
“That’s kinda hard to avoid.” She held his head with both her hands and pressed a soft kiss on his head. “I know you’d do anything, and I mean ANYTHING in your power to prevent it though — and you are stupidly powerful.”
With remorse in his eyes, Clark looked up and fixed them on hers. “Are you disappointed in me? Are you mad?” He nibbled on his lip, “About what you saw tonight?”
Her eyebrows twitched. Her hands still holding his face, she rested her forehead on his. “You’ve got blood in your hands…” Her voice was soft, but with a hint of concern.
“I’d kill for you.” He confessed, his voice firm even if low.
“Clark…” She gulped as she struggled not to frown. Her eyes watered as he shifted and hid his face on her cleavage.
His arms held her tight from her waist, he didn’t look up as he added, “I’ve never felt like this before. My head was a blur. If I lose you…”
Lois was quiet, her fingers brushed through his curls. She could feel he had teared up now that the pajama top was slightly wet.
“—Who’s going to be there to stop me?” Clark was well aware that he would have killed Luthor without the interruption; her interruption. “I’d have nothing left to lose.”
She let out a shaky breath and kissed the top of his head a couple of times. “I’ll be as good as new in a few days.” Lois tried to find his eyes, comforting him and focusing in the present, in the now; “You know why I fell in love with you?”
Clark nodded; “Because of my steadfast integrity, intelligence, and deep empathy.” That made him smile, a bashful tone then added; “And because I’m a good man.”
“Hmm? I didn’t hear that last part, I’m sorry.” She rested her hand around her ear.
“I said, I’m a good man.” His voice was more confident this time around and so was his grin.
“That’s my man.” Lois giggled as she felt him pulling her over to the middle of the bed and lying her on her back.
Careful with her wounds still fresh, Clark leaned over on top of her and gently peppered her neck with soft kisses. Finding her lips, he pressed a long soft kiss on them.
“Hey,” Lois smiled as they broke the kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He smirked, keeping his weight on his arms as he looked down. He happily chuckled as he felt her finger twirling the curl that dangled down his forehead. “You promise?”
“I promise.”