Disclaimer: The familiar characters and settings in this story are not mine. They belong to DC Comics, Warner Bros., December 3rd Productions and whoever else may have any legal right to claim them, nor am I profiting by their use. The story is based on the Lois and Clark script "Pheromone, My Lovely" and all parts taken from that script are hereby credited to the writers of the show. Any new characters, settings, and any changes in the story, belong to me.
Pheromone, More Likely: 1/?
By Nan Smith
The morning staff meeting was it's usual cheerful self, Lois thought. She yawned behind her hand and dumped artificial sweetener into the cup of coffee parked on the table in front of her. Perry glowered at his employees as they filed in and found seats around the table. Jimmy appeared to be half-asleep. Clark, on the other hand, looked disgustingly chipper.
Their editor lifted his cup of steaming coffee to his lips and sipped. He made a face. "This stuff is dishwater. What's the matter with that machine? How's a newspaper supposed to run without a decent cup of Java?"
Lois tested her coffee and made a face at the watery taste, as well. Clark made no comment but drank his coffee, obviously waiting for the grumbles to subside.
Wilma Connors moved past the table and pulled out a chair next to Clark, giving him a once over as she sat down. Really, Lois thought, the woman was nearly fifty, and a divorcee, to boot. What was she doing, looking over a twenty-something guy like a piece of meat? It was disgusting.
"Anyone for herbal tea?" Cat asked, innocently. "Does wonders for the complexion. You should try it, Lois. Really, you should."
If looks could kill, the one Lois shot at her would have left her stretched lifeless on the floor. Perry set his cup down, ignoring the byplay. "Clark, the dock worker strike."
"Negotiations have broken down," Clark said. "I'm interviewing the union and management reps ... separately."
"Good idea," Perry said. "Lois, about that article you wrote on the fruit fly infestation -- could you maybe, if it isn't too much trouble, give it another go? And this time, put some zing into it."
"Happy to, Chief," Lois said. "It's such an ..." She gave an artificial yawn. "... Exhilarating subject matter."
"If this malathion spray is so safe, how come they tell you to put your pets inside when they're using it?" Jimmy asked.
"It's just a precautionary measure," Perry said.
The door opened, and the Planet's cleaning woman hesitated in the doorway. Perry waved her inside. "That's okay, Rehalia, come on in." He turned back to the people gathered around the conference table, as Rehalia moved around the room, emptying the trashcans. "Well, what do you think we oughtta lead off with, the counterrevolution in Russia?"
"I believe that's a counter, counter-revolution, Chief," Clark said.
"Who can keep track?" Perry said. He turned his head at the sudden commotion in the newsroom. "What the Sam Hill's goin' on?"
Cameras, lighting equipment and some kind of runway were being hauled into the Pit, followed by a mob of technicians, photographers, and sundry others.
"You remember, Chief," Cat said. "Today's the day they're using the newsroom as a backdrop to introduce that new fragrance ... 'Exclusive'. Marketing set it up."
"Marketing?" Perry said. "No, I don't remember."
"Oh, sure you do." Cat pushed her chair back and hurried to the window to look out at the organized confusion that had been their newsroom. "Yeah, yeah, it's been on for months. Ooh, look! There's Elle Taylor ... April Stephens! I've gotta get an interview!"
"All right, go ahead," Perry said, but he was speaking to her retreating back.
"We are never going to get any work done around here, today," Lois said, getting disgustedly to her feet.
"Who cares?" Jimmy said. He was staring at the models, and Lois could swear he was almost drooling. "Chief, look at her!"
"Ah, better not," Perry said. "Alice would have my hide."
"How would she find out, Chief?" Clark asked.
"Oh, she's got spies everywhere," Perry said.
Jimmy's eyes were still riveted to the models.
"You guys don't think that there's any small possibility that a girl like that would actually go out with a man like me?" He glanced over at them as he spoke. "I guess not."
**********
Lois glanced at the clock. It was barely eleven-thirty, but it already felt as if she had put in a full day -- a singularly unproductive full day, at that.
The newsroom had been transformed into a perfume/fashion show. Beautiful models circulated through the crowd, spraying anyone and everyone with the new fragrance. Lois had been sprayed twice and forced herself to smile as she received a third dose, while a photographer snapped a picture. Her smile disappeared immediately as soon as the photographer went on to another victim. She didn't even care for the scent that much, and she was positively reeking with it. The first thing she was going to do when she got a chance was to head for the shower.
Clark and Jimmy were leaning against her desk at the best vantage point to view the scenery. Jimmy, of course, was loving every second of it and she noticed, with piqued amusement, that Clark, whom she had always thought of as, if not indifferent to feminine pulchritude, at least circumspect in his behavior, was making no attempt to hide the fact that he was also enjoying the show.
"Ah, the beautiful people," Lois said.
"Yeah," Jimmy said, with enthusiasm.
"It's such a sad commentary on society," Lois continued, casting him a disgusted look. "Dress a certain way, smell a certain way, and the world will love you."
One of the models passed Clark, looking him over with undisguised interest. Clark's head turned, following her progress and Lois firmly quelled a distinct sense of irritation. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought, if the women didn't clearly reciprocate his appreciation.
"Yeah, Lois, it's sad," Clark said. "Very, very sad."
"Anyway," she said, "like I said before, we'll never get anything done, today."
"So, why don't we take the day off?" Clark asked.
She gave him a stern look. "Because it's a workday, Clark."
He raised his eyebrows. "Haven't you ever played hooky, Lois?"
"Never."
He cast her an incredulous look.
"Besides," she added, trying not to feel defensive, "what's so great about playing hooky?"
"Well, just being someplace you're not supposed to be, doing something you're not supposed to do. It's just ... fun."
"I had fun in high school," Lois said, feeling, for the first time, a little annoyed. "Chess club, math club ..."
"Wow," Clark said.
Lois got to her feet confronting him. "What are you saying, Clark?" she asked. "That I'm not a fun person? That I don't know how to have fun?" She glared at him, and then at Jimmy, just beyond him. Jimmy held up his hands.
"I didn't say a word!"
A blond woman with a perfume atomizer in her hand emerged suddenly from the crowd. "Have you tried my new fragrance?"
"Lois ..." Perry appeared beside her desk. "About those fruit flies ..."
"Oh, no thank you," Lois said. "I don't wear ..." She gasped as the woman sprayed the atomizer, dousing them with her perfume.
"... Perfume," Lois finished, but the woman was already gone. She made a face at the unexpected scent on top of the one she was already involuntarily wearing. It smelled like a locker room after a boxing match.
"Whoa! What was that?" Perry wrinkled his nose and drew back. "Eau de sweat socks?"
"What died?" Jimmy inquired, as Clark fanned the air in a futile attempt to dissipate the odor.
"That stuff's probably three hundred dollars for a quarter ounce," Lois said. "Highway robbery!"
The three men abruptly vacated the area of her desk, and Lois re-seated herself, fanning the air. She caught a glimpse of the blond woman making her way around the room and up the ramp, spraying newsroom staffers indiscriminately as she went. Even Rehalia received her share, and the Ecuadorian woman leaped back with an exclamation in Spanish that sounded remarkably like an imprecation.
Half an hour later, the fashion show began to break up. Men dismantled the runway, preparing to leave. Lois found herself looking at Clark where he sat typing at his word processor. It was amazing, she thought, that she had never noticed before how attractive he was. Well, she'd sort of noticed, but it had seemed like a good idea to ignore it. Now she couldn't understand why. Slowly, she began to unbutton the top buttons of her blouse.
Wilma Connors approached behind Clark and rested her hands on his shoulders. Lois was conscious of a flash of irritation, verging on outright anger. How dare the woman lay her hands on Clark like that! He was sitting up straight, a startled expression on his face.
Lois stood up. Clearly, her co-worker needed rescuing. She had started across the floor toward him, when one of the models who had not yet departed, crossed the Pit toward the little scene and practically flung herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Clark appeared to have no idea what to do. One of the women from the secretarial pool appeared and pushed Wilma to one side, sliding her arms around Clark's neck from behind. Wilma pushed back, sending the secretary sprawling.
Faces turned toward the altercation. Another female office worker started toward the fracas. Clark stood up abruptly, barely avoiding dropping the model in his lap onto the floor, wiggled free from the various sets of female arms attempting to engulf him, and backed away.
"What's going on here?" he asked. "Is there some kind of game going on that I don't know about?"
Lois found herself homing in on him. There was no way she was going to let those harpies latch onto him, now that she knew where her interest lay.
Mona Heinrich from Business appeared from nowhere, her blouse undone nearly to her waist. The woman must be thirty-five at least, Lois thought, in outrage, as the other woman slipped an arm around Clark. He jumped, visibly. The secretary was on her feet again, and she shoved Wilma backwards as the older woman attempted to pry Mona off of Clark. The model insinuated herself between Mona and her prize, not an easy task, as the Business Editor appeared to be trying to imitate a boa constrictor imprisoning its prey.
Clark was endeavoring to extricate himself from the mob of women. Lois moved in, grasping Mona and literally peeling her arms away from Clark. He freed himself quickly from the model and nearly sprinted for the stairs. Lois, and the crowd of other women, raced after him. But, when they followed him through the swinging door, he was nowhere to be seen.
**********
Clark shot upward from the roof of the Daily Planet. His heart was still racing and he told himself firmly to calm down. Something weird that he didn't understand had happened back in the newsroom; that was for sure. Wilma might often check him out, but she wasn't normally obvious about it and he'd been able to ignore it until now. The same went for Mona and a number of other women. It seemed as if, all at once, a bunch of them had gone completely crazy. He'd have to remember to thank Lois for helping to rescue him from Mona, but it probably wouldn't be too smart to go back into the newsroom right now. Only, how was he going to explain his hasty exit to Perry?
He described a loop in the air and did a fast pass by the window of Perry's office, x-raying the newsroom as he did so, and nearly crashed into an adjoining building. He was just in time to see Rehalia land a clout to the side of his boss's face that should have flattened a rhinoceros. That startled him so much that he nearly missed the scene of Cat in the copy-room, and then he wished he had. The gossip columnist wasn't alone. Nor was Antonia, the fashion editor, in the storeroom.
Missing the corner of the office building by bare inches, he soared upward and paused in the sky over his place of work, wiping his heated forehead with the back of his hand. This was crazy! What on Earth was going on?
And, what should he do? His conscience said he shouldn't leave his co-workers in the lurch, but if what had happened a few minutes ago was any example, his mere presence might cause a riot. Besides, what could he do? Bursting in on Cat and her "friend" in the copy room would probably be embarrassing for everyone.
What he needed, he decided, was his partner. He and Lois had to talk this over and see if they could get to the bottom of their colleagues' very strange behavior. At least, he didn't need to worry that Lois would fall all over him. She'd made it very clear for some time that she regarded him as a brother. Quickly, he scanned the office, looking for her, but she didn't seem to be in the newsroom. Ah, there she was, in the elevator. Maybe she was looking for him. Quickly, he swooped into the alley nearest the Planet and made a hurried change to Clark Kent. He'd meet her in the lobby, he decided. Then, they could decide what to do.
**********
tbc
