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2011.
They just... don't get around to it, that first year. In amongst everything else that's happening, it just doesn't seem quite so important.
Clark gets defensive whenever she says that. He stops whatever he's doing and wraps her up in his arms and whispers fiercely into her hair, "Of course we're important. You're the most important thing in my life." It's sweet, she thinks. It's also entirely unnecessary.
"Stand down, big guy. I didn't mean it like that." She smooths out his tie. It's red, like his cape. She knows he'll stick out a little at Tess' funeral for not wearing all black, but she thinks Tess would have appreciated it. "I just meant that we said all the words already. We just didn't get the paperwork signed." She grins, and it feels genuine if a little strained given the day, and he smiles back. "You're stuck with me, Mr. Kent."
"Yes, Miss Lane."
After the funeral there's all the work of reintroducing The Blur as Superman. There are press conferences and interviews and public saves and he's still getting used to all the lights and the attention. He comes home at night burnt out from all the good he's doing and all the pratfalls he's taking at work. No one suspects him, which was the whole point, but he's being even more careful with his body than he was back in high school and it's taking some getting used to.
"Will I have to trip when we walk down the aisle again?" he asks, voice thick with exhaustion as he crawls into bed one night. She presses a kiss to his shoulder and he can feel her lips curl into an amused smile.
"No," she promises, "but if we have more than family there, you'll have to wear the glasses."
2012.
Martha corners her at Connor's graduation party and Lois never sees it coming.
"So, have you two set a date again yet?"
"For what?" she asks. They're standing next to the table with all the desserts. Connor asked for two kinds of cupcakes - red velvet and chocolate fudge - and she's trying to decide if she can have both without looking like a glutton. Maybe she'll pick one and give Clark the other and then she can steal half of his.
Martha laughs: "For the wedding, sweetheart."
Lois falters for a moment, her hand dipping into the icing on one of the red velvet cupcakes, so she picks it up and licks the sugar off her fingers. "Oh, right. That."
Honestly, neither of them have talked about it in a few months.
Between her job - keeping up with the promotion she earned last year - and his two jobs - she's pretty sure they'll be sharing her office soon; Superman has been very good for his journalism career, too - not to mention helping Connor with college applications and looking forward to Martha's reelection campaign, it just hasn't come up. Martha is looking at her with hope and expectation and Lois really, really wishes that Clark wasn't ... where the hell is Clark?
"Hey," she whispers. "I know you can hear me; get over here." Martha can hear her, too, and she smothers her laughter into her hands as Clark comes up behind them.
"I was playing cornhole with Connor and his friends," he explains before offering them both kisses on their cheeks.
"Did you win, honey?" his mother asks.
Clark should be ashamed of the grin on his face: "Kicked their asses. What's up?"
"Your mom was just asking if we've set a date yet, poodle." He sticks his tongue out at her for the mocking term of endearment, then wrinkles his nose in confusion.
"Date for what? Coming back for the election?"
Oh thank God, it's not just her.
Martha shakes her head, laughing again: "Oh you two. Just promise me I'll be at the wedding, whenever it is."
2013.
They sit down with their datebooks, Martha's calendar, Connor's school schedule, Oliver's social calendar, and try to find a good date.
Every time they get close, something comes up: Lois is sent on assignment, or someone wants Superman to dedicate a children's hospital, or there's a big vote in the Senate, and they push it back another few weeks. And then another few weeks.
And then months have gone by and Lois is sick and tired of looking at calendars.
"I could fly us to Vegas," Clark offers. "Right now. We could be legally married in less than an hour."
"We promised your mom she could be there."
"So we'll go the long way and pick her up."
"You really think she'd be happy with us getting married in Vegas?"
Clark tugs her close and smiles at her so gently she melts against his chest: "It only matters if you would be happy with it." She thinks about it for a minute, because she knows he means it, knows the offer to whisk them both away and get it over and done with is genuine.
But she doesn't want it over and done with. She wants it, but they don't need it. They remind each other every so often that they've already exchanged vows, and he likes to point out that as far as Kryptonian tradition goes, they're already life-bonded.
"No Vegas," she decides. "We'll do it right. Eventually."
2014.
They don't even try this year.
They are a running joke now, among family and friends. Chloe and Oliver renew their vows in a proper ceremony and do nothing but tease them throughout the reception. Martha tells them she'd be okay with missing the nuptials if they want to elope. The General just glares at Clark whenever the Lane family gets together because he has yet to make an honest woman out of Lois.
The jokes make Lois dig in her heels. "Hey, if they think I need another ring on my finger to show that I love you," she huffs over takeout one night at the Planet, "then they're blind and - frankly? - I'm offended."
"I know you love me," Clark says mildly through a mouthful of pizza.
"Yeah, well, clearly no one else does since they keep bugging us about it!"
Clark smiles, which is obviously the wrong thing to do when Lois gets like this, but he can't help it. He thinks she's cute. (He always thinks she's cute.) His grin does make her even more upset and when she storms around their office to grab more food he snags her hand and tugs her into his lap. He presses his nose to her temple; she is stiff and agitated in his arms.
"Hey, remember what I said before? I'll want to marry you in five days or five years?" He jostles her a little, forcing her to loosen up. She sags against his chest, but he can tell she's still angry. "I meant that and I still do. We can totally shoot for the five year mark if you want."
"I don't want to marry you to shut them up," she admits finally. "We'll get married when we get married."
"Okay."
2015.
They have a date.
Well, almost. They've picked one far enough out that it looks like everyone important should be able to schedule around it, but not so far out as to tempt fate into something catastrophic coming up between now and then.
(Of course, they're them so catastrophe is always on the horizon, but still. Clark has a good feeling about this date.)
Perry says they're in the clear to take the vacation days, Connor will be home from college on break, Martha already has the day marked on her calendar, and even the General has promised to be there, barring armageddon. All that's left is to double-check that Chloe and Oliver can make it and they're good to go and book the chapel.
So of course Chloe tells them she's pregnant.
Her due date is one week off from their proposed wedding date, but neither of them care because Chloe and Oliver are having a kid. They're suddenly so wrapped up in the idea of being Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark that when they hang up the phone an hour later they realize neither of them even mentioned the wedding.
"We could do it sooner?" Clark suggests weakly.
"Are you kidding?" The very idea of trying to find another date - and one sooner rather than later - has a headache building behind her eyes. "Besides, we may as well wait for the flower girl or ring bearer to be born, right?"
Clark smiles, that dopey farmboy grin that makes her weak in the knees. Yeah, she thinks, he'll be a good Uncle Clark. "Definitely. We should definitely wait for that."
2016.
She comes home from an interview on the far side of town to find the living room bathed in candlelight and a home cooked meal warm and waiting on the kitchen table. She can hear him humming around the corner, some mindless tune he's had stuck in his head all week, and she uses his brief moment of distraction to close the door quietly and try to figure out what the hell is going on.
But he doesn't have superhearing for nothing.
"Lo? That you?" He peeks his head around the corner and smiles bright and wide. "Hey."
"Hey to you, too." She lets him take her jacket. "What's all this?" she asks carefully; Clark is thoughtful, but this seems over the top even for him if this is one of his spontaneous gestures. She's pretty sure she has forgotten something and when he smiles impossibly wider she feels herself shift from guilty to defensive.
"You didn't remember," he says, a little smugly, like he knew she wouldn't.
"Look, Smallville, I've had a long day--"
"It's our anniversary."
That pulls her up short. She looks at the date on her phone, then back at him. "You remember we still haven't actually gotten married, right?"
His grin softens as he takes her hand and leads her to the table, pulling out her chair and ushering her to sit. "Oh yeah, I'm very aware." He wiggles his left hand - and his bare ring finger - in front of her. "But we say all the time that we've said all the words and just haven't gotten to the paperwork. Besides, even if we don't want to celebrate five years of a failed wedding--"
"--it's the anniversary of Superman," she finishes. She grabs his hand. "Yeah, I think that's something to celebrate."
When they've finished dinner and they're lying on the couch, she pinches his side and wakes him from dozing against her. "Hey," she says quietly. "Want to look at dates?"
"And ruin a perfectly good anniversary?" he replies with a sleepy smile.
2017.
"We can't get married this year," he declares as he sets a box of donuts down on their desk. It's not the strangest thing he's ever said while delivering breakfast, but it's certainly up there.
"You're booked for the whole year?" she asks lightly. She doesn't doubt his commitment but this is the first time she can remember him stating that they can't get married. The words sit uncomfortably in the air - Clark fidgets like suddenly realizes how it sounded - but she'll play along for the moment.
Clark plucks a maple donut from the box and offers it to her with a rueful smile. "So I remembered the other day that I've traveled to the future."
"Haven't we all?" She sighs dramatically and it makes him chuckle.
"Heh, well, I went to 2017 and we weren't married yet."
"When did this happen? The traveling part, not the us failing to get married part. That's clearly been happening for years."
"Remember when I disappeared from the high school reunion?" Sure, she remembers the reunion -- but she'd rather remember that night when they said I love you for the first time.
"Is that why we danced in your barn?" she asks, pieces clicking together. He looks a little sheepish. It's a good look on him. Humbling the hero does wonders for her own ego.
"I plead the fifth," he answers, snagging a donut for himself. "Anyway: you weren't wearing a ring then, so we don't get married until after October 2017."
She nods. It's not like they had a date in mind soon anyway. What's a few more months of waiting?
2018.
He is late. Just a few minutes, like he said he might be.
But he's there. And she's there.
They say their vows, again. They haven't changed much, over the years. She thought about rewriting them entirely, but the words she wrote seven years ago still hold true. He lets her inspect his ring thoroughly before she shoves it on his finger.
The whole thing feels a little hurried, a little rushed, like they're afraid they are going to get interrupted. His shirt collar is slightly askew and she fixes his tie, hiding his blue suit underneath, while the minister declares them husband and wife.
Finally.
She still has her hands wrapped up in his necktie when he leans forward and kisses her, sweeping her up into his arms. He does that so often nowadays that it doesn't even surprise her when her feet leave the ground. She wishes, for half a second, that they had taken Ollie up on his offer to get ordained online so he could marry them; she's sure, if only family was around, Clark would be floating right now.
Still, even with his feet on the ground, Lois can feel his smile, can feel the way his arms are tense with excitement.
She pulls back, just far enough to catch her breath, and leans her forehead against his.
"Hello, Mr. Kent." His eyes slip closed, and he looks absolutely content.
"Hello, Mrs. Lane," he breathes.
Yeah, that was worth the wait.