** Warning, this has a Tank Ending only***

This is in response to Anna's Rewriting Challenge. Someday when I don't have a real life any more, I'd love to write this into a much longer story. But for now- or until my life settles down far more- this will have to do. You may throw tomatoes, I only ask for no painful deaths. I know you will hate me after this wink

* Warning: This story is a WHAM story. The ending could be considered a Tank ending.*

Author’s note: I am just borrowing these characters. They do not belong to me. The main characters are the property of Warner Bros. and DC comics. No copyright infringement is meant through their use. All ideas in this story are my own, however. Any appearance of similarity to any other work of fiction about Lois and Clark is purely coincidental.

This story is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses/organizations, locales, people/characters, or other real occurrences are used fictitiously.

A zenana is the apartment in an Asian or Middle Eastern house where the women of the household are confined. I thought the title appropriate, given the content of the story. Lois, in her mind, is removing the male ‘confinement’ from her life.

This fanfic takes place during ‘Barbarians at the Planet.’ The only scene from the episode that does not take place in the timeline of this story is Lois’ acceptance of Luthor’s proposal.

~Zenana’s Revenge~

*** 7:15 pm, Wednesday, May 4th, 1994***

Smoke clouded the air, expensive smoke. Well, to be precise, the smoke was from an expensive cigar. Luthor leaned back in his leather chair; his expensive suit jacket hanging on a hook nearby. Today was a good day for him. He had successfully gotten rid of a few ‘loose’ ends in Suicide Slum and closed a deal to buy another chain of stores. Better yet, Lois was going to meet him tonight and give him her answer.

It never crossed his mind that she might turn him down. No one ever turned him down. He was Luthor, one of the richest men in the world, and certainly one of the most powerful. No one in their right mind turned *him* down. He smirked. Everything was falling into place. The Planet was gone. The insurance estimates had come in- he would be several million dollars richer. Lois was going to marry him. Superman would be finished after tonight.

He puffed on his cigar, then poured himself a snifter of expensive brandy. Smiling sardonically, he threw back the alcohol. Oh yes, his world would soon be in place. Lois on his arm, the Blue Boy Scout would be dead, the Planet gone. Who knew what might happen next? Perhaps he would run for President…

No, that required too much work. He’d simply pay off all the members of Congress. His expansive daydreams were interrupted by the sound of a knock. Luthor started, then sat up in his recliner.

“Come in.”

Nigel St. John walked into the room. He nodded slightly at Luthor.

“Everything’s ready?” Luthor asked, twirling the cigar between his fingers.

“Yes, sir,” Nigel replied.

“Great,” Luthor commented, with a sardonic smirk. He thought for a moment, a grin of wicked delight stealing onto his face. “The job will be done by tonight. Superman won’t be a problem anymore.” Anyone who bothered to watch the ‘superhero’ could see he only existed because of Lois Lane.

Well, after tonight, he’d have no reason to exist anymore. Lois Lane would disappear and Lois Luthor would emerge in her place. Superman would have no reason to live. And he’d insured the infernal hero wouldn’t. No desire to live would make a simple murder that much easier. Winning was so much fun.

*** 8:00 pm, Wednesday, May 4th, 1994***

Clark kicked open the door to his apartment, worn out from his day’s labors. He had done so much but it felt like he had accomplished relatively little.

His life was coming apart in his hands.

He hadn’t seen Lois in two days and in his gut he knew that she would accept Luthor’s reprehensible offer.

His career was effectively in rubble, both literally and figuratively.

He had no muse insight into the stupid novel he was writing.

What else could go wrong? His day had been tailor-made in hell. A broken typewriter had forced him to the store for parts that no longer existed, he had stopped two gang fights- one girl had died in the shoot outs-, he hadn’t seen or heard from any of his friends, and his milk had gone bad. Even for a super person, that was a lot to cram into a day.

At least there were no current screams of despair, yells for help, or ominous sounds. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to respond if he had heard any of those things.

He had been worn out before, but he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worn out. Mentally he was a wreck, emotionally he was beyond a wreck. He just wanted to sleep tonight.

He glanced ruefully at his door, which now held a rather large dent from where he had kicked it. Then he decided he didn’t care. Stepping into the room, he noticed an envelope lying on the floor. He picked it up, mystified.

There was no address on the envelope, no name. He ripped it open, mutilating it in the process. There was only a single sheet of paper in it. One paragraph, typed in a clean font.

‘I know you are Superman, Clark Kent. Your little game is over. I possess a piece of Kryptonite, enough to kill you. Unless you meet me tonight at ten, at the corner of White and Moses, you will not remain alive.
Regards,
L.L.’

<Luthor! Luthor knows! Tailor-made in hell, with the devil as the tailor…> Clark thought, terrified. <Now what?>

He reread the death threat he held in his hand. Was this how Lois felt every time a crackpot tried to kill her? She always seemed so relatively calm. He felt like exploding, and there wasn’t even a bomb nearby to swallow. What could he do now? There was only one answer. Go to the appointed place and find out what “L.L.” wanted.

Blackmail most likely. Luthor would be able to wrap Clark around his finger. Threaten to reveal Clark’s identity or kill him if Superman didn’t comply with all Luthor’s wishes.

Oh no! What if Luthor tried to hurt Lois or Clark’s mom and dad? Would he be able to do whatever Luthor asked? Could he kill someone if his parent’s lives were at stake? Could he be blackmailed? Would he comply? What if he asked him to kill someone? Would he do it?

Two hours.

Two hours to think about his values and life.

*** 9:59 pm, Wednesday, May 4th, 1994***

Clark, dressed in the Suit, arrived at the meeting point exactly sixty seconds before he was supposed to. The street was dark and deserted, the streetlights apparently burned out. There was no one there. He settled down to wait.

Three minutes later, a shadow appeared. A slender, feminine figure. Mrs. Cox? No…

“Lois? What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“I never went to New York,” Lois said. A smile flitted across her face, but she quickly replaced it with an unreadable look. Clark was excited. She had come to rescue him! His Lois, rescuing him from Luthor. She must have realized how evil Luthor was. She opened her purse and pulled out a box.

Then he realized what she was doing. The box, emitting a sickly green glow, lit up her face.

“Lois…” He gasped, the pain hitting him in a wave. Clark fell on his knees, groaning in pain.

“Lois… why?” he managed to ask.

“Because they asked me to,” Lois replied, grinning sardonically.

Clark’s head was spinning, but he made a last effort to understand what was going on.

And he finally understood.

But it was already too late.

*** 10:17 pm, Wednesday, May 4th, 1994***

Lois walked into Luthor’s penthouse. Luthor stepped around from the desk.

“Lois, my dear. Excellent work.” He kissed her gloved hand, leading her back to his chair. He settled into it. “I saw it all. You were wonderful.” Lois smiled a bit, moving back from his desk.

“Lex…” She purred, smiling seductively at him. “I’ve decided…” She turned her back to him, facing the door. Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were nervous. “I’ve decided to accept your offer of marriage.” She swung around, shooting Lex through the head as she did so. “After all, I can’t marry a man who is dead.”

She moved swiftly to the bookcase on one side of the door, knowing Nigel would come bursting through it in just a moment. He did, right on time. From her space two feet away, she aimed the gun once more. Another perfect shot. Nigel crumbled to the floor. She placed the gun in his hand. A murder and a suicide. Perfect. She removed her gloves, stuffing them in a purse, and then began to scream hysterically.

She knew Luthor didn’t have video camera’s in his office. So the history of what had happened would be whatever she wanted it to be. Security rushed in and she started babbling, Lois style.

“It was awful. Nigel burst in through the door. He, he shoot Lex. Then he killed himself. Ohmigosh.” The officer led her away.

***

She smiled grimly, back at her apartment. She had been right. Never trust men. Well, all the men who had crossed her were dead. Clark, the lying jerk, and Lex, the evil crime syndicate. She’d dealt with them. Now it was life as usual. She went into work the next, the perfect picture of a crushed woman. But inside she was strangely happy. Lois Lane didn’t need a man.


:: runs for cover::


Imagine.