The familiar characters of this story are not my own but are the property of corporate entities (DC Comics, December 3rd Productions, ABC, etc.) other than myself. This work is a labor of love and is presented with no expectation of remuneration.
*****
This is a recapping of the beginning of the partnership between Clark Kent and Lois Lane, told with a radically different backstory for the three main characters in the story. There is a major character death and some other surprises along the way (see the WHAM folder for more information – unless, of course, you’d prefer to be surprised). For the most part, though, the favorite toys go back into the box at the end, barring a few minor scratches. And there is some psychological damage at the beginning (and close to the end), most of which is resolved by the epilogue.
Now let’s dive into the tale and watch our favorite couple become our favorite couple.
*****
Then:
Clark Kent signed his name to the dotted line and became a member of the most recent freshman class at Metropolis University. His chosen major, journalism, would be a difficult row to hoe due to his growing-up time in a rural town in central Kansas, and he knew it. He wouldn’t be competing against kids who were just trying to get by here, kids who only wanted to be “good enough for Smallville.” He’d have to work hard to earn every success. His academic scholarship would help defray the cost of school, but a part-time job loomed in his future and he knew that too.
One of the big perks, of course, was the large number of pretty girls wandering around the quad. There were blondes, brunettes, and a few redheads, including the tall dynamite one in the next line. Purely by chance, he overheard her name, Margaret Mayfield. The double ‘M’ in her initials, her height, slim build, and hue of her hair made a nice contrast to the double ‘L’ of the short and not-slim blonde Lana Lang, his off-and-on high school sweetheart.
Right now they were “off,” especially since Lana had chosen to attend the senior prom with Brad Parker, the point guard on the Smallville Crows’ basketball team. Clark believed that Lana was with Brad because the young Iowa State freshman was being described as “the next Pete Maravich” on the court and had a real shot at being famous. Brad could out-dribble, out-pass, out-score, out-defend, and out-rebound any other guard in the state of Kansas. His six-foot-five-inch height also gave him multiple advantages, as did his thirty-eight-inch vertical jump and his rare speed on the court. Clark knew he could beat Brad six ways from Tuesday using his “special abilities” if he really wanted to, but doing so would give him way more press than he wanted, and the wrong kind of press. Besides, unlike Brad, he didn’t want to play in the NBA, and if that’s what it took to win back Lana the superficial bimbo, she wasn’t worth the effort.
So the tall redhead attracted him. She pulled her long hair back over her shoulder and gave him a good look at her very pretty face, frowned at her class schedule printout, and headed off. Clark still had two classes to get into before they filled up, so he sighed and watched her go her way. If they could meet and if she liked him, they might become a couple, or at least go out on a few dates together. If not, she’d just be another one that got away.
*****
Cat Grant shook her head at her class schedule and headed toward the faculty office building. She was only three years out of high school herself, but she’d already forgotten how young incoming college freshmen could be. Three years as a part-time administrative assistant to a mid-level executive at the Daily Planet – while she earned an associate’s degree in journalism at New Troy junior college – and on-the-job training as a feature writer had prepared her to be a cub reporter, but after only four months of flower shows and building dedications she’d been given an undercover assignment.
True, it wasn’t all that dangerous, it wasn’t exactly exposing the Teapot Dome scandal or digging up the Watergate cover-up, and she’d gotten the job largely because of her still-youthful appearance and because no one else who looked the part had wanted it. But it was an undercover role nonetheless, and there was a real story to dig up. She was on her way to being a real investigative reporter.
Her boss, Perry White, had set up her cover identity and background information, including the name Margaret Mayfield. She hadn’t understood the pop music reference until Eduardo had giggled at it during the staff meeting, then pointed her to Rod Stewart’s big hit “Maggie May” from about fifteen years before. She’d decided to let other people pick up the reference if they wanted to, then stare pointedly at whoever said anything until the subject was changed. That way, she could both set up a wall between others and her assumed name and establish a reputation as a tough cookie. It was the best protection the Chief could give her.
She mentally reviewed her backstory as a young divorcee with no children who had decided to go back to school and get her high school teaching certificate and write features for the school newspaper. If the rumors Perry had heard were true, it wouldn’t be long before someone would try to recruit her for the student-run escort service at the school. Those rumors had implicated some of the junior and senior class leadership, and it could turn into a disastrous scandal in a Metropolis minute. She needed to work quickly because the paper couldn’t let her function outside the office for more than half the semester.
Of course, if she did find hard evidence of an escort service, she might stay the entire semester to flesh out the story, get names and places and the organizational setup. Or she might just “drop out” and disappear. It would depend on the level of danger she encountered.
Either way, this would be good experience for her. Investigative reporting was something she really wanted to do, and this would be a good start for her – assuming she actually got the story.
The only real problem she had with the assignment was that her fiancé Mark Orton hated it. They wouldn’t be able to meet on campus or at her apartment as long as she was undercover. Mark was a good man and she thought highly of him, but this forced separation would put a lot of pressure on their relationship. She only hoped it wasn’t too much pressure – but then, if he couldn’t handle her being on this assignment, he might not be able to take it if she became a full-time investigative reporter. He’d already dropped some barbed hints to the effect that he wanted her to be his wife at home, not in the line of fire, and that he didn’t mind her working as long as it was on his terms.
Perry didn’t know about that extra bit of tension in her life. As much as he wanted her to meet her potential as a reporter, he’d bend over backward to help her in her private life. Cat desperately wanted to prove that she’d earned her job, that she belonged at the Daily Planet, that she wasn’t the editor’s pet, and that no one could stop her from being the best that she could possibly be.
Not even the man who said he loved her.
*****
“Recruits! Raise your right hands and repeat after me. I – say your name.”
“I, Lois Lane—”
She was doing it. She was really doing it.
“—do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States—”
Her father had flatly refused to pay the tuition for a journalism degree, still her dream career. He’d desperately wanted her to be a doctor.
“—against all enemies, foreign or domestic—”
Just as desperately, she didn’t want to be a doctor. She wanted to actively campaign for truth and justice, and this way was her second choice.
“—that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same—”
So she came straight out of high school and went into the US Army. She’d actually enjoyed seeing his face turn that color when she’d told him of her decision. Oh, what she would have given to see his face today. She didn’t, of course, tell him that she hoped the Army would be her inside track to a journalism career, given the availability of post-service benefits and in-service training.
“—and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States—”
Her blue belt in Tai-Kwando, her cross-country distance medals for the school track team, and the bylines she’d earned at her high school paper gave her confidence that she could face the physical and mental challenges. And every base had some kind of internal reporting organ, a newspaper or newsletter where she could practice and hone her writing skills.
“—and the orders of the officers appointed over me—”
She even had her MOS, or military occupational specialty – law enforcement – all picked out, and she planned to cross-train as a combat medic so she could qualify for armed combat duty if the opportunity arose. She could also write for the base newspaper once she landed at a permanent duty station. She could even publish a journal of her training experiences to help other recruits deal with the culture shock. The title would be “How To Become a Soldier and Live Through It.” It would be a best-seller – at military boot camps and recruiting offices, anyway.
“—according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”
She lowered her hand and came to attention as best she knew how. After all, she was now US Army Recruit Lois Lane, serial number 46218819-F. Next stop: twelve weeks of boot camp, then law enforcement school for 20 weeks followed by 16 weeks of field medic training. With her background, she ought to be able to ace both of them.
She’d show them all how it was really done, especially her father.
