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Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Where we left off in Part 167 …

“Are there some other, not so ethically grey areas where you could check for Mrs. Lane?” Jonathan asked.

“Cat said that Luthor had a manor house between Metropolis and Gotham City. Superman did scan that as well as a few outbuildings. There wasn’t anyone there but a few servants. Jimbo, Perry, and I have been compiling a location list of all of LexCorp’s holdings. Unfortunately for us, the list is vast and the businesses spread all over the world. Luthor has residences here in the States, in Australia, Singapore, Hong Kong, the Cayman Islands, and Switzerland. Lex Luthor has a fleet of private jets his executives use for LexCorp business. He could have easily hidden Mrs. Lane away on one of those and taken her anywhere in the world.” Clark rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. “I could spend until the wedding searching them all, plus all his business locations, and still never find Mrs. Lane. If I did that, I wouldn’t be around Metropolis to keep an eye on Lois, or be able to fly out to Los Angeles to check on Lucy.”

“I’m sure Lois will understand, honey,” Martha said softly.

He looked at her skeptically. “Only if her mother turns up alive and well, and completely alcohol-free.”

“Have faith,” Jonathan recommended.

“In Luthor? Not happening.”

“You said that his father was an alcoholic as well. Surely, he understands what Lois went through as a child and truly wants to help,” Martha said.

Clark shook his head. “That’s just it, Mom. We don’t know if what Luthor told Lois about his childhood is true. Perry and I have been checking records, but since we haven’t been able to find a birth certificate on the man, let alone any record of Lex Luthor before 1962, we can’t verify any of it. All five of his unofficial biographies list his childhood in the same vague manner: orphaned before he was a teenager and a self-made man. None of them list his parents’ names nor where he grew up, nor even if he had been a ward of the state as I had been.” He scoffed. “He has even less of a history than I do, and he’s from this dimension.”

Martha and Jonathan exchanged another look. Jonathan spoke, “Are you sure that he is?”

Clark held up his hand. “Since Luthor existed in that other dimension I visited as well, let’s not even try to go there and just stay in the realm of the known. I’m still trying to figure out how to explain to Lois that I’m not only a visitor from another planet, but also another time and another dimension. I don’t even want to consider if Luthor took her mother off planet.” He thought about this idea before chuckling. “I really don’t have the same problems as other men, do I?”

Martha leaned towards him. “You still haven’t told her?”

“When this whole investigation mess is over… or, at least, when I can get her away from Luthor once and for all, then will be the time to broach the subject of how much out of this universe I really am.”

“I’m sure in the end you’ll do what’s right,” Martha said, patting his hand. “You usually do.”

Clark wished he had as much faith in himself as she had in him.

***
Part 168

Martha’s words echoed in his head as he flew leisurely over to Los Angeles to check in on Lucy. He wished he had as much confidence in his decisions as Martha did.

Personally, Clark wanted to just sweep his whole past under the rug and just move forward with Lois. It really wasn’t the same as Lana trying to erase his alien past from their future, because his abilities were an essential part of who he was. It wasn’t as if he could stop using them completely. Deny or accept them, they were still there. The fact that he’d come from another dimension because he had fallen in love with another Lois from yet another dimension seemed minor in comparison. So minor, in fact, it was hardly worth mentioning.

Yeah, right. Keep on telling yourself that, Kent.

He feared, though, as he revealed more and more about himself to Lois that he would discover the max strength of her tolerance when she finally decided that she couldn’t deal with him anymore. That was what had happened with Lana, wasn’t it? That she realized that she didn’t love him enough to deal with his excess baggage.

Clark knew that Lois wasn’t Lana. Thankfully, they were nothing alike. Lana had wanted him to give in to all her demands. Lois had told him, on more than one occasion, how he needed to grow a backbone and have his own opinions. Lana had hated his alien side. Lois had loved Superman first. Lana had loved that he was her bodyguard. Lois had risked her life to protect him. Lana didn’t want children. Lois had said that she did. Of course, she had said this to Lex Luthor, and not to Clark. However, he considered the door to that discussion to be, at least, unlocked… should Herb ever give him the green light, that was, or as this metaphor demanded 'a key'. Lana had always found excuses not to be affectionate. Recently, Lois had been finding excuses just to kiss him and reassure him that she loved him.

He smiled as he thought about how, after dumping her trash on a non-pizza-ordering Tuesday, Lois had then proceeded to her roof, spread her arms out wide, and said to the night’s sky, “One time offer. You have thirty seconds to ravish me.” Then she had started counting.

She had made it to twenty-two, only because Clark had needed to find a way to run out of a conversation with Jimbo.

Needless to say, if Herb ever found a definitive cure to the curse, his proverbial 'key', Clark hoped he could last longer than thirty seconds. It had taken an inordinate amount of willpower to do no more than kiss Lois that night. As it was, he had forgotten to change out of his uniform as he landed.

A half-hour previously, prior to her rooftop siren call, Clark had just watched her return from a date with Luthor.

He had missed Lois so much that Cat had insisted that he take her ticket to the charity function, which Clark knew that Lois was attending. He had arrived during the last hour dressed in his tuxedo and watched her from within the room as she circled around with Luthor, appearing more bored than thrilled to be there. The only excitement he saw was when she had spotted him lounging at the end of the bar. He had raised his glass to her, and listened as her heart rate sped up.

Lois had looked particularly amazing that night. Her hair was styled in curls. She was wearing one of those silky black cocktail dresses, which showed entirely too much leg and cleavage. Her heels made her as tall as him. It had taken all his self-restraint to stop himself from approaching her, throwing her over his shoulder, and simply walking out of the event.

His boiling ardor had only been reduced to a simmer before he had heard her call out to him a half hour after Lex had dropped her off at her apartment. Clark knew he shouldn’t have gone to her, especially dressed as Superman, any more than she should have called to him in such a wanton fashion. Neither of them had been thinking clearly that night. When Lois returned to her apartment a few minutes later, thankfully giving him longer than the thirty seconds allotted, Clark had felt as if he had been the one ravished. Not exactly the best thing when one was wearing a skintight suit. Lois murmuring how hot he had looked in the tuxedo had only added to his pleasure.

He reined himself back from these thoughts and returned to the dilemma of how to tell Lois about his true past. He didn’t think Lois knowing his history in the other dimension was relevant in the grand scheme of things, especially in light of the curse. If Lois could accept and love him, despite that possible void in their relationship, the full truth about where he came from really wasn’t important, but he knew that Lois wouldn’t see things in that manner. She would say that he had once more lied to her… if one counted the omission of something the same as telling a lie and, apparently, Lois was the type who did.

Clark could understand this point of view, especially in light of Lois failing to tell him that she had only agreed to date and marry Luthor as part of an investigation to expose the billionaire as the evil man that he was. In that case, the truth had stopped him from hurting or at least reduced the agony to a slight discomfort.

Regrettably, in this case, learning that Clark had met and fallen in love with another Lois before he had met her, would only hurt Lois. That was the last thing Clark wanted to do. They had caused each other enough pain to last a lifetime over the past year. Even though, he knew that he loved this Lois more fully and completely than he ever did that Lois from another dimension, he doubted she would believe him.

Every time he practiced in his mind what he would say to Lois, the scene ended with her marching out and slamming the door in his face as she screamed that she never wanted to see him again. He knew he wasn’t the perfect beau. Not only did she have to contend with the fact that he was from another planet, she also had to deal with his many quirks. His desire to go out and help people at inopportune times while dressed essentially in tights. His current fear of intimacy. His dislike of sweets. His inability to catch all of this dimension’s societal references. His over-protectiveness, and, last but not least, his lack of a clear past.

The fact that she kept looking past all of those faults and coming back for more, routinely made her more awe-inspiring. She was constantly flooring him with her intelligence, her leaps of logic, and her amorous side. Every time he thought that his love for her was maxed out, she would do or say something to make his heart overflow once more. He didn’t know if it was the whole almost soul-mates thing and, frankly, he didn’t care. Lois was his life and always would be. That was a fact he could no longer deny.

Clark didn’t know how he would survive, should Lois elect that she’d had enough of his omissions, or couldn’t accept them once he did reveal them all to her, and kicked him out of her life for good. He would understand this decision, and he doubted it would change how he felt about her. Frankly, he wanted to avoid that scenario at all costs. Unfortunately, after years of walking on eggshells with Lana to protect his heart, it was a difficult habit to break. With each new aspect of himself that he revealed to Lois, it felt as if he was constantly testing the limits of her love… or, in Lois’s case, defenses.

***

“… to have and to hold, for richer and for poorer, until…?” the clergyman was asking when the groom interrupted.

“If she’ll have me,” he said with a wide grin to the bride.

“I wasn’t finished,” the clergyman said when the chuckles from the guests died down. “Until death parts you?”

“I will love and cherish her every day of my life, whether that be but one day or a hundred years. She will always be the love on my life,” the groom clarified, giving the bride’s hands an extra squeeze.

“A simple ‘I do’ will suffice,” said the clergyman.

“Don’t try to earn yourself any brownie points,” said the bride with a good-natured smile. “I’m going to ‘yes’.”

The groom stepped forward to kiss her when the clergyman stuck his hand between them. “If you don’t mind, I’m not done asking questions.” He, then, repeated the same question about money, health, and longevity to the bride.

“Duh! Who could say ‘no’ to this studmuffin?” the bride said, tugging the groom’s hands until he stumbled against her so she could press a huge kiss upon his lips.

“Everyone’s a comedian,” grumbled the minister. “I’ll take that as an ‘I do’. By the authority vested in me by God and the great state of New Troy, you are legally man and wife.”

The bride and groom broke their kiss and turned with beaming smiles to their guests in the church, causing them to explode with cheers.

The clergyman rolled his eyes, and continued, “You may now kiss the bride.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” said the groom, pulling the bride back into his arms and kissing her again.

Clark shook his head. He knew Cat and Phil’s wedding would be one for the record books, and he knew he shouldn’t be overly surprised, but a part of him hadn’t expected them to make a mockery of the proceedings. Cat had told him the night before at the rehearsal dinner that she and Phil had wanted to elope, but his sisters and her brothers had insisted on, planned, and even footed the bill for an actual wedding. Their parents had chipped in money to use as a down payment for a new house in Houston over Cat’s protests that she had her own money. Apparently, from the rumors he had heard the night before, neither side of the family would believe they were married unless they had witnessed it with their own eyes.

Cat kissed Phil’s cheek, whispering in his ear, “I’ve never been so horny in all my life. Let’s start this honeymoon, now.”

“Now?” Phil swallowed. “But I thought… I mean, you said… because… you weren’t…”

She shrugged. “Pregnancy hormones. Ya going to fight me on this?”

Phil shook his head adamantly. Without even a glance back at the Man of Honor or the Best Sister, the happy couple rushed down the aisle and out the doors.

Phil’s sister, Gloria, looped her arm around Clark’s elbow, laughing. “You’d think she said her water broke, but we know it’s much too early for that.”

Clark blushed and glanced away. He could have lived without hearing the real reason for their hasty departure.

Gloria must have seen Clark’s rosy cheeks. “You don’t think? Really? Now? Before the reception?” Her titters turned into outright roars of laughter. “Hey, Nate!” she called to Cat’s brother as they reached the end of the aisle. “Guess where Clark thinks the happy couple went.”

“I never said…” Clark tried to save his reputation, and the newly married couple’s, but since his face was probably a deep shade of fuchsia, nobody listened.

“They’re boinking their brains out,” said Peter, Cat’s only unmarried brother, crassly.

Cat had mentioned Peter on occasion to him, and Clark only vaguely recalled meeting him at the Grant family Christmas party, because his mind had been focused on Lois that night. Peter had the Grant family good looks, a financial planner’s wealth, but the personality and decorum of a successful Ralph. In other words, Peter was as sexually active as Cat had been before meeting Phil, only without the manners and panache.

Nate slugged his brother in the arm and gave him a glare. “There are kids present,” he said with a nod to Phil’s nieces and nephews whose parents were gazing at Peter with dropped jaws. Several of them had even covered their children’s ears in dismay.

“What does boinking mean?” the flower girl asked Peter.

Gloria’s lips pressed together as she tried not to laugh. Matt, Cat’s other brother, wasn’t so successful, coughing to cover up his chortles. Being parents, they knew when best not to encourage a youngster’s memory with laughter.

Peter bent his knees until he could look the girl in the eye and said with a straight face, “It’s a bouncy castle just for grown-ups.”

“Ooooh,” the little girl’s eyes widened with wonder. “I can’t wait until I’m a grown up.”

Gloria’s hand now covered her mouth as the guffaws were exploding from within.

“I’m betting your folks want you to stay a little girl forever,” Peter replied, patting her head.

Clark grabbed Peter’s elbow and dragged him out the front door of the church before the little girl’s father could reach him and Superman had to intervene.

“Hey, Kent,” Peter said. “What’s your rush?”

“Cat asked me to stay by your side,” he replied. She hadn’t wanted her and Phil’s wedding to be one of those that ended in fisticuffs, and she knew her brother Peter was just the one to land it there. Other than show up on time to the wedding and the rehearsal dinner, Clark’s only official duty as ‘Man of Honor’ was to keep her brother in his pants until after the reception ended. Clark knew better than to point out to her how ironic that request was.

“Oh, yea,” Peter said, as if he had heard of this plan.

Clark’s stomach fell in anticipation of Peter’s next words.

“Cat said you needed some help scoring with the ladies,” Peter said, turning and giving Clark the once over. “First of all, you’ve got to lose the glasses. Nerds never get laid, the groom being the exception. Come on, man. It’s the 1990s. Everyone who’s anyone has contacts.” He reached up to Clark’s face.

The Man of Honor stepped quickly aside, holding his glasses in place. “I really can’t be without them, but I’ll consider it for the future.”

Peter shrugged. “Man, you’re making this hard on me.”

Clark smiled sheepishly. He wasn’t losing his glasses to this loser.

“Okay, we’ll work around the glasses,” Peter said as the two of them started walking down the street to the community service hall, which had been rented for the reception.

Clark didn’t want to even think where the bride and groom could have disappeared off to. Doing so, might accidentally make him hone his hearing to things he certainly didn’t want to witness… twice.

“You know when Gloria asked my sister about her something old, something new, traditional garbage thing, Cat said that you were her something blue,” Peter said, roaring with laughter.

Personally, Clark felt more red at the moment.

“So, man, you can tell me. How long has it been?”

Clark gulped and stuck a finger into the neck of his tuxedo. He tried to cover up his discomfort by straightening his Superman blue bowtie. “I really don’t want to…”

“That long, huh?” Peter chortled, slapping Clark on the back. “Don’t worry, Kent. We’ll get you riding a horse before the night is out... Well, hopefully, not a real horse. The ladies practically throw themselves at guys at these things, so you’ll do okay. I’m sure we can find someone desperate enough to look past your stocky demeanor and nerdish looks to hitch her skirts up for you long enough for you to lose your virginity.”

“I’m not…” Clark sputtered. What had Cat told her brother? “I have a girlfriend. Her name is Wanda.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said, sounding unconvinced. “And where is Wanda, pray tell?”

“She had to work,” Clark said, not exactly lying. Of course, it wasn’t as if Cat had invited Lois either. Was this why?

“What the goose doesn’t know is good for the gander,” Peter said, bouncing his eyebrows.

Heaven knew that Clark wished he could go back in time and volunteered to host Cat’s bridal shower and take her out for a night on the town for her bachelorette party, instead of take this gig.

***

What felt like five days later, the bride and groom finally cut their cake. Dinner had been served and eaten. The toasts were over. The DJ was warming up with a string of eighties hits. It was turning into just the kind of social affair that Cat Grant, gossip columnist for the Daily Planet, wouldn’t want to be caught dead at. Other than babysitting Peter, Clark was enjoying himself.

A roar of applause came up from the tables as Cat took a large mouthful of wedding cake, leaving half of it hanging from her lips for Phil to nibble. People chimed their champagne flutes with their forks, requesting a kiss. Phil happily obliged, covering both their faces with cake and frosting in the process.

And city folk make fun of country folks’ manners? Clark thought with a slight shake of his head. At least, he had been able to keep Peter’s pants on for the past three hours. A super human feat if ever there was one. That guy was hornier than Cat in heat.

Speaking of the bride’s ne’er-do-well brother, Peter picked the moment Clark raised his champagne flute to his lips to elbow him.

As Clark wiped the remnants of the bubbles off his shirtfront, he grumbled, “What?”

“The woman heating my sheets tonight has just entered the building,” Peter said, rubbing his hands together. “Well, or her sheets, I won’t be picky.”

Clark turned his head towards the doorway where a woman stood just inside the room and his heart started thundering against his chest. For the briefest of seconds, the woman had reminded him of how Lana had looked during prom, but only in the wildest prom fantasies of a lonely eighteen year old Kansas farm boy. Upon second glance, he realized it had only been her hair style that reminded him of his ex-fiancée. Lana would never have worn that dress for a million dollars… well, not in public, anyway.

Other than that one fatal flaw, the woman looked amazing, despite the fact that she was wearing a hot pink prom dress, which showed as much cleavage as a Suicide Slum prostitute. Perhaps it was due to that fact. That old teenage fantasy was still clear in Clark’s mind.

He couldn’t imagine any of the women of his acquaintance standing within ten feet of her out of fear that her fashion decision might be contagious…. Well, with the exceptions of Lois and Martha. Not because of the mountains of lace ruffles or the hearts, both of which the bridesmaids had in abundance, but because of the sheer dated tackiness of it. It even made those bridesmaid dresses, which all of Phil’s sisters and both of Cat’s sisters-in-law had declared unwearable outside of a wedding, appear elegant. He could just hear Cat chiding that such a dress would make his usual choice in tie look good.

“Let me take this one, Peter,” Clark said, holding out his champagne flute to Cat’s brother.

“Her? You haven’t looked at a single or married woman all evening,” Peter retorted, his words slightly slurring from drink.

“I looked,” Clark insisted, his pride still bruised by Cat’s earlier barb.

“Right. Now, suddenly, you’re interested in the future warmer of my bed…”

Clark shrugged. He had his reasons.

“That dress says she’s poor and desperate, Kent, but she’s still out of your league. Under that dress, she’s a ten, guar-an-teed,” Peter retorted, pushing Clark’s extended arm out of his way. “Trust me on this. Superman has nothing on my x-ray eyes.”

“I’m going to have to take your word on that,” Clark answered flatly, not that one needed x-ray vision to see how gorgeous this woman’s body was. “I have to admit, I’m curious to see the master at work.”

Peter shot him a devilish grin along with two finger pistols as he approached the woman.

She simpered, she blushed, and she even laughed at his joke. The moment he tried to touch her, she twisted his arm around his back until he cried uncle. The whole interaction took less than a minute.

Shaking his sore arm, Peter returned to Clark.

“What happened with your ten?” Clark asked innocently, pretending he hadn’t seen the whole embarrassing situation come down.

“I decided it wouldn’t be fair to not let you have first crack at her, Kent,” Peter lied. “You being more desperate than me. Be my guest.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Clark returned, handing his almost empty glass to Cat’s brother. This time Peter accepted it.

Clark walked across the crowded room and stopped next to the blonde. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied.

“I had to come over and compliment you on your dress,” Clark said. He knew nobody else would.

“This old thing?” The woman shrugged. “A possible friend lent it to me, but the jury’s still out.”

“On the dress?”

“On the friendship,” the woman replied. “This dress was condemned to death in the eighties.”

He vaguely recalled seeing Madonna wearing something similar in white, back during his MTV-watching college days. “It’s not that bad,” he said, and then chuckled at her skeptical expression.

The DJ turned on a rock ballad and Clark held out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, setting her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. “I only have a half-hour, maybe forty-five minutes at the max.”

“Then I won’t waste any more of your time,” he said, pulling the blonde goddess into a close embrace with his cheek next to hers.

She surrounded his neck with her arms, rocking back and forth in time with the music and against his body. A resurgence of his old fantasy returned, only this time with a twist… This time, it was real.

“I thought you didn’t like blondes,” she murmured into his ear.

Not wishing to verbally correct her wrong fact, Clark dipped his head and brushed her lips with his. “You’re not blonde, Minha.”

She tightened her grip and forced his face closer, deepening the kiss with unraveling passion.

From the recesses of his mind, he thought he might have heard the dropping of a glass, but it and everything else seemed to melt away for the rest of the song.

“Wanda,” Clark moaned, when he finally released her lips from his. “I never thought I’d see you…”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for all the money in Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts,” Lois said, glancing around Clark and towards the happy couple. “Yep, they’re married. Wow! Hell has officially frozen over.”

“Hush!” he giggled, nuzzling her neck again. “You’re going to get me into trouble.”

“Any more so than for cheating on your partner with this blonde skank?”

“Oh?” He ran his hands down her back and rested his hands on her hips, his fingers dipping lower. “So, Wanda is easy, is she?”

Lois nudged him. “Oh, no! Cat’s on her way over. Quick, Chuck, run over and add my name to your gift,” she hissed.

“No can do, Wanda,” he whispered, mostly because he already had, and also because he couldn’t let her out of his arms. “Too many people.”

“But… but… but…”

“Your presence in that dress is all the gift Cat desires,” he replied. “And you know it.”

“Who do you think loaned me this hideous thing?” Lois said. “I had half a mind not to show, but then…” She ran a finger down his cheek. “It was worth the risk, unless… Can one get a venereal disease from a dress?”

“What’s going on here, Clark?” Cat said, butting into their slow dance to a fast song. “Do I need to send you two off to get a room?” She grinned. “Actually, maybe you should…”

“No time,” Clark jumped in. “Wanda, here, has to get back to work before her boss notices she’s skipped out.”

“Don’t you mean, her fiancé?” the bride purred, catty as ever.

With a lost expression, Phil looked at his wife, Clark, and Lois. Finally, he held out his hand to Lois. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“Oh, sorry, Phil. This is…” Cat began.

“Wanda!” Clark interjected. “Wanda Detroit, my girlfriend.”

Cat rolled her eyes.

Phil appeared even more lost. “But I thought… and didn’t Cat say… and aren’t you…” He shook his head.

Clark hugged the newlyweds, exclaiming, “Congratulations!” before murmuring to Phil, “Cat will explain later.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Lois reassured the groom, shaking his hand when Clark stepped away. “Cat was merely joking about my former beau who has trouble letting go. Speaking of which, Cat I must thank you for the loan of the dress. It’s perfect.”

Clark had to agree. Luthor’s brainless goons would never recognize her. They probably hadn’t even looked at her face when she walked by.

“Well, when you called about crashing my wedding, I couldn’t resist,” Cat replied, wrapping her arm more tightly around Phil’s other arm. “This is my husband Phil.”

Phil was still staring at his wife. “You wore that dress?”

“Once upon a time before I stopped wearing such skintight clothing, yes, but it’s much shorter on me,” Cat replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Clark didn’t need to read minds to know either of their thoughts.

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Phil,” Lois said, interrupting the moment. “I knew you had to be something special the way Cat’s been mooning over you since February.”

“Mooning?” Phil asked his bride with delight.

“Well… that’s not entirely…” Cat sputtered with a glare at Lois.

“‘Oh, Clark’,” Clark said in a high pitched, yet pouting tone of voice. “‘I can’t stop thinking about Phil. He was A-MAZ-ING! After him, no other man will do. If you can fall in love at first glance, why can’t I?’ Yep. Totally over the moon.” He grinned and deftly avoided Cat’s slap to his shoulder.

“Awww, Sweetums,” Phil said, his misty eyes turning towards his wife. “That’s the most… the kindest…” He pulled her into an embrace.

Cat pointed over her husband’s shoulder at her Man of Honor. “I’ll get you for that, Kent!” she called, before her lips disappeared under Phil’s.

“Clark!” Lois said sharply as they returned to their previous slow dance position as the lights once more dimmed.

“Hey, she started it,” Clark defended himself.

“Love at first glance, huh?” Lois said.

“Oh, that,” he murmured without embarrassment, lowering his lips to hers. “I’ve always been partial to trashy blondes with no fashion sense.”

Lois nudged his shoulder with her elbow as she pulled him closer, mumbling something about May, the sun, and how the two should never meet. Frankly, asking her to repeat what she said wasn’t as important as how she said it. With her fingers running through his hair and her practically bare chest pressed against his, he decided words were overrated.

***End of Part 168***

Part 169

Yes, I have a photo of the dress on my FDK link: Comments