Carol, I just realized that I never came back and told you what I liked so much about this story. And of course I've forgotten the details from the first time I read it, so now I get to read it again! *rubs hands in anticipation*
placed three thick reports on top of it
Like hiding it will make it go away!
Cautiously, she lifted the reports; it was still there
Told you, Lois.
I like this, Carol - this strong, confident woman can still be a bit childish and stick her head in the sand, just like the rest of us.
Well, there wasn't, of course. For this, she blamed Perry White's inability to assign her at the appropriate time to anything Metropolis related that was out of state or in a foreign country or the backwoods of Canada or wherever - there were so many possibilities if he would have just given it some thought. The Chief had absolutely no imagination!
It wasn't as though there wasn't a perfectly good conference on municipal sewage disposal, in Philadelphia, this weekend. Oh, she'd dropped hints all right; Perry had even picked them up, and then assigned Ralph! The new guy Ralph Whatshisname. The one with the bad suit, the eyes that wandered where they shouldn't, and no discernible talent of any sort. He was the one who got to go to Philadelphia!
Perry is such a presence in these two paragraphs, even though the whole thing is in Lois's head. And it made me laugh, too!
Martha probably had stuff on Superman, too. Embarrassing photos or something.
Lois, you have
no idea.
Martha Kent was pretty amazing - Lois thought they should just put her in charge of running the universe.
I agree! And I love that Lois thinks this.
"Jonathan, you knew," Martha whispered accusingly.
He did nothing but smile, and still Martha knew. You can read 50 years of companionship in that one sentence.
She'd done this before, Lois told herself sternly. The Corn Festival - she'd had fun that night, she and Clark. But so long ago - before Lex, before Mayson, before everything had changed so much between her and Clark Kent.
Before she knew Smallville.
I love this. Can't put my finger on why, but I do.
"Mom, who's that with Maisie?"
"Her new husband, Tommy Trucker."
"Mom, his name is not Tommy Trucker."
Martha laughed. "No - I don't remember his last name, Clark honey. Maisie's only known him five weeks, and that includes two weeks of wedded bliss. He's a trucker, just like her last two husbands - occupational hazard when you work at a truck stop, I guess." She paused. "Good looking trucker though."
"Mom!"
Your Martha is so excellent, I can't even put it into words. I could see a woman wanting to marry her son just so Martha could be her MIL! (The fact that her son is Clark is just double incentive.)
"You know it wasn't until my first year at college that I even got to third base ..." He looked sideways at Clark for a moment, then raised his beer to his mouth. "I sure could sure use some advice. How do you get that home run, CK?"
"What?"
"You know - get a girl to make a man of you. How do you do it?"
Oh my god. Poor Clark. I can just see his face.
Finally he blurted. "It just never came up."
Jimmy's widened. "You mean, you can't... Gosh, I'm sorry, CK - have you seen a doctor about this?"
he'd been so distracted by (Lana's) prettiness until the day she'd betrayed Rachel.
I'd love to read this story.
Yeah, I suppose that's one way to refer to it.
Unbidden, the memory of his kiss in the Honeymoon Suite slipped into her mind. Yep, all the parts of a man. In solid working order, too. She blushed, smiling to herself, and tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
You've given Lois a wonderful voice in this story. It's great.
"You're so damned ... whole."
He was stunned. Whole? All his life he'd been searching, always knowing something was missing. A piece of his soul. And then one day he'd walked into the Daily Planet and there she was.
"Lois... No, never - not until I met you."
She raised her head then, looked at him, met his dark eyes, the turmoil in hers gentled by the depth of emotion in his.
"Oh." A sigh escaped her lips, and the tension slid from her shoulders. "Oh" she breathed.
And she dances away with Wayne Irig. This is no less than perfection. No big scene, just a quiet little change, a quiet little understanding. It's so darn wonderful that I want to sweep it up in my arms and hug it! (I realize that sounds very strange.)
Carol, I hope you'll be gracing us with more of your writing soon. I'm hooked.
Lisa (who, on second thought, was actually hooked way back at
Recognition (Truth) .)
I finally got to sit down tonight and read it.
