Author’s Notes: While I do know what is going on in this story, I do not yet know exactly how many parts it will be. I have to write when I have time, but I will try to finish up as soon as I can. I am not a huge fan of Halloween, but for some reason, this idea popped into my head, and, as I had time to write it, I thought I’d try. It has not been BR’d or anything like that, but hopefully it makes sense.

This is the first fanfic I have attempted in years. I received the 1st season on DVD for my birthday and it re-awoke my interest in the whole FoLC world. So, here I am trying again. I am not made of steel, but I am of hardier stock, so if you do not think highly of this story, I can take it. I would rather know than keep writing and have no one reading!

Also, Labrat already wrote a fabulous Halloween story called “Trick of Treat” so, rather than take that title, I made mine longer and more, ahem, academic looking.

Trick or Treat: A Halloween Dilemma-Pt.1
by Capes <swirlingcapes@yahoo.com>
Rated: PG (or maybe G)

*****

Clark Kent, also known as Superman, landed softly on the grass of his parents’ farm. The wind was starting to take on the briskness of autumn, and with a quick motion, he spun into jeans, flannel shirt, and glasses. He took a moment and breathed in the fresh scent of country air, a slight smile on his face. It was harvest time, and he could hear the gentle sounds of tractors and combines whirring away in a nearby field, cutting the hay and binding it up for the winter. No matter how much he loved his life in the big city of Metropolis, a part of him would always belong to the open spaces of country where he had been raised with such love.

It was because of that love that he had come today. He needed advice, and who better to advise him than the people who had always been there for him through the tough times of his life. Although of late he had found himself turning to others, such as his close friend and fiery colleague, Lois Lane, there were some predicaments that only his parents could help with. This problem was one of them, due to the fact that the problem itself involved Lois Lane.

Clark shook his head at the thought of her. Since the first time he saw the Daily Planet’s top reporter, he had known she was going to be trouble. Unfortunately, her kind of trouble attracted him powerfully. Once again, she had managed to entangle him in something he should never have been involved with in the first place, and now he could see no way out.

At that moment, a small woman burst out of the farm house in front of him, the screen door slamming behind her.

“Clark! What a surprise!” Martha Kent hugged her son with a delighted smile on her face. “Can you stay for supper?”

“Hi, Mom,” Clark responded, hugging her back. “Yes, I can stay for supper.”

“Good, then you can peel some apples for me,” she replied. “I’m making a pie. Your father is out at the hardware store buying a part for the tractor, but he should be back in about half an hour.”

Arm in arm, the two headed into the house, chatting away contentedly.

*****

Supper was over, the clean dishes were stacked in the drainer and all three were sitting down with a cup of hot cider, when Martha finally turned to her son and said, “Okay, tell us what’s been bothering you.”

Clark considered protesting, but knew there was no point. His mother had always been able to see right through him.

“Well, see, it’s Lois,” he began.

“Ah, Lois,” Jonathon remarked with a wry smile on his face. Lately that name had been coming up a lot in conversations.

“Yeah,” Clark sighed. “You know how every year the Daily Planet helps host a Halloween party for the kids? This year we’re hosting it in conjunction with the Metropolis Children’s Hospital, and well…”

*****

It all had started when a Lane and Kent byline appeared in the Daily Planet with an expose on the plight of the families with children in the Metropolis Children’s Hospital. These children suffered from rare, life-threatening diseases that were often terminal. Their families suffered right alongside them, watching the children they loved in such pain and clinging to the faint hope that some new treatment would give them more time with their precious little ones. It was not the sort of story Lane and Kent normally did. In fact, Lois had balked slightly at the suggestion, but after meeting some of the children, was deeply moved and threw her heart and soul into the project. It had been, in fact, her idea that the Daily Planet join with the hospital for that year’s Halloween party.

Daily Planet Halloween parties were famous. They had been started as a solution to the decreasing opportunities in the city for a family-friendly Halloween. No one was quite sure whose idea it had been originally, but it had morphed into a city-wide enterprise, supported by many businesses. Every Halloween, starting at 6 in the evening, the police barricaded the entire street leading up to the Daily Planet. Families with children lined up at the far end of the street and gave a donation to enter. Then the parents, with little pumpkins, rabbits and ninjas in tow went door-to-door to all the businesses on either side of the street, filling their bags with candy and other treats. The whole process ended at the Daily Planet where there were cookies and cider to go along with old-fashioned kids’ games like the ring-toss. The staff at the Planet joined in the fun, dressing up for the occasion and making sure everyone was having a good time.

The families of children with such serious diseases often abandoned their entire lives in a last desperate bid for a miracle. They quit their jobs, mortgaged their homes and went heavily into debt to be able to stay near their child during the process. They depended on the kindness of family, friends and even strangers for help getting to and from wherever home was to the hospital, for places to stay during extended visits and expensive equipment if the child was able to go home from time to time. This year all profits made would go to the families of the children in the hospital fighting so courageously against overwhelming odds.

In years past, Lois had managed to find ways to duck the party. She found small children confusing and tried to avoid them as much as possible. She wasn’t against them in principle, really, but just did not feel comfortable with large groups of them. However, the previous year, Clark had managed to coax her into staying. In spite of herself, she’d had a surprisingly good time, so much so that this year she had actually suggested to Clark that they should go together and wanted to discuss costumes.

That was where all the problems had started. He had been engrossed in an online search for a special replica of X? art for Martha, when a hand touched him on the shoulder and he heard her say, “So, Clark, ready for lunch? I’m starved!”

“Sure, Lois.” He smiled up at her. “What do you want?”

“I feel like Chinese.”

Clark let out a small sigh. It was the third time that week that she had felt like Chinese. He was starting to wonder what was up with her. He knew it was partially his fault as, since the first time he’d brought her takeout from “his” Chinese place, she’d gone through phases of obsession with it. It had not helped that he had been forced to keep it secret that the food was actually from China.

“Hey! I heard that sigh!” Lois raised an eyebrow and poked him with her pencil. “It’s your fault. If you’d just tell me where to get it myself…”

“No, no, Lois. Wouldn’t want to do that,” Clark said hastily and stood up, grabbing his suit jacket off the hook by the side of his desk. “I’ll be right back.”

Lois smirked a little on her way back to her desk. By now she had tried nearly every Chinese place in the phone book and still had not figured out his secret. She still intended to get it out of him some day, but for now she was satisfied with making him go get it. It served him right for hiding things from her.

*****

When Clark returned with lunch in hand, the moved into the conference room to eat and this is when Lois brought up her great idea.

“So you now, Clark,” she started nonchalantly. “The Halloween party is coming up soon, and we still haven’t picked out costumes.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, swallowing some rice.

“I was thinking that we should do something, you know, interesting,” she said, her voice warming with enthusiasm. “So, I think that I should go as myself and you should go as Superman. Great idea, huh? We could…” Her voice trailed off as Clark started coughing, shock having caused him to swallow something the wrong way. “Are you okay?”

Nodding his head at her question, Clark grabbed his mug and drank some water, trying to still the feelings of panic that her suggestion had caused. What could she possibly be thinking? What should he say?

Lois looked at him quizzically for a moment; but then, assured that he was indeed going to be fine, she enthusiastically began to talk about her idea. “I was thinking, Clark, that it probably wouldn’t be that hard to figure out how to make a suit like Superman’s and we’d need to buy some material or whatever, and…Clark are you listening to me?” she demanded.

“Uhuh,” he said weakly. “But, Lois, don’t you think we should pick something more, um, conventional and also easier, like Frankenstein or vampires or even Star Wars characters?”

“Clark!” she protested. “Everyone does those! Don’t you want to do something different?”

“Lois, a lot of people dress like Superman, too, you know,” he said.

“But not Superman and Lois,” she said smugly. “Plus, I think our costume will look a lot more authentic than theirs. After all I know Superman, and I’ve seen the suit up close many times.”

If she only knew how much more authentic he could make the suit he thought to himself as Lois kept talking. The only problem was that he, of all the people in the world, was the one who could least afford to pretend to be Superman. He imagined himself telling Lois that he knew where they could get fabric exactly the same as that used to make Superman’s suits: out of a big, locked chest in the attic of the Kent’s farmhouse in Kansas. What was he going to do?

*****

To be continued?


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Swoosh --->