HI Evie!
“You haven’t ever given a dollar to a someone on the street? Even when they ask? Even when they could clearly use the help?”
Well...most of them probably work as indentured servitude laborers for large scale, multi-national conglomerates. Or they’re recently re-vitalized former corpses of heads of said large scale, multi-national conglomerates. Plus, do you have *any* idea how much that place of hers costs in rent?
“Does that mean that you’ve never donated anything in your life?” he asked, taking it a step further.
There was that bit of underwear she sent to the Superman foundation a year ago...
If I’m going to make a donation, I do my research and then I make an annual contribution to an official organization.”
Applying the same diligence she does with getting married.
LOIS:
“You think I’m lying?”
One liar would recognize another, she guessed.
Still peeved.
She eyed him as he grinned at her, unaware that inside she was fuming at his hypocrisy.
He donates lots of stuff. Like hair. Used uniforms. “Personal” donations.
Now everything he said sounded like it was only half true or awkwardly truncated or a deliberate obfuscation.
Like “why would you think I love you?” to her question “do you love me?”.
She was definitely getting better at pinpointing when he was lying,
Oh, so she started to watch his lips, did she?
replaying conversations in her head and second guessing what she’d thought he’d really meant.
Like “do you think I should stop eating so much chocolate everyday?” or “do you think I should spend more time at the gym?” or “do you like that blonde ADA more than me?”
“Maybe I’m just curious what kind of organization Lois Lane would find worthy of a donation,” he said in a light, teasing tone.
The Bobby Bigmouth Food Supply Foundation.
“You’ve just… never really mentioned liking kids before,” he replied more carefully.
Most cute.
LOIS: I’m not against them. It’s just, I never really thought marrying Superman would automatically mean I’d have four kids or something like that.
“That doesn’t mean I think they should be illiterate.”
It’s called an investment. Illiterate kids don’t buy the Daily Planet. They’re much more likely to buy the Metropolis Star for his big, colorful pictures of in-harms-way journalists on the front page and more big, colorful pictures of the same journalists in … different settings on page three.
Sometimes they fell into sync so easily that it was hard to remember that she was mad at him.
Maybe if she took a step back and considered that being mad shouldn’t be a chore and when it becomes a chore, maybe it’s time to be mad at someone else?
they give kids age-appropriate books for the holidays.”
Like, “why Mommy is enjoying her adult grape juice when Daddy is visiting the doctor’s nurse”?
The way he was looking at her, somewhere between awed and appreciative, was bothering her.
Makes him seem almost...human and a good catch?
“Well, you never asked,” she said uncomfortably.
“I guess you’re right. I guess there’s a lot we all assume about people,”
Ooooh! She could get mad that he thinks she should have simply *asked* him if he’s Superman instead of assumed he isn’t.
“Well, sure,” he said easily enough that she knew he would never expect her to ask, ‘Are you Superman?’
Only one way to find out.
LOIS: Are you Superman?
CLARK: I’m Clark.
LOIS: Liar.
CLARK: No, really!
LOIS:
CLARK:
Did she want it to be?
“You’d tell me anything I asked?” she pressed.
Sounds like she does want it to be this easy.
/points at title/
Easy like Cat. You also just have to ask her nicely.
“What are you expecting to find out about me, Lois?”
Kids. Wives. Lovers. Biology.
“Well, all of us have something that they probably don’t even tell their closest friends,” she said, giving him a way out if he wanted it.
Pete knows. Bruce knows, too.
“Not everyone has some big dark secret to hide.”
No, those are reserved for billionaires.
Please say it, hint it, just allude to it and we can end all this, and I can have my best friend back.
He doesn’t see it as a big *dark* secret. It’s not like he has a wive hidden away in Hicksville, Alpha Ceti.
His hands slid into his pockets and he shrugged. “I’m just Clark.”
/points at earlier remarks/
The elevator arrived just then, saving her from displaying her fit of pique, and she forced herself not to stomp onto it.
Most cute!
forgive him or beg him to forgive her.
Forgive her? Oh boy. Maybe seeking professional help would be helpful? They could visit couple’s counseling?
And he hadn’t asked her if she walked through her days absolutely heartbroken and unable to tell anyone.
Poor dear. She really should try the nuclear option and find out if he’d sleep with her without telling her first. Nothing bad ever came from that approach. /gets popcorn/
Her standard reply was out of her mouth without conscious thought. “I’m fine.”
Danger!
He doesn’t have a girlfriend.
If he wasn’t going to tell her what he should have already told her, she wasn’t going to offer him any information either.
Did we ever have a story where Lois and Clark got stranded on an island without Lois knowing the secret?
Her guilt twinged that she’d really managed to turn her capable, competent partner into a pizza boy, and she said, “Let’s just call for a pizza. Then we can jump right in.”
That’s deflecting! Also, he doesn’t mind getting pizza while rescuing some Italian people. It’s much better quality than the fried oil bread they produce at Serge’s Pizza and Teriyaki Meat Palace.
She brushed past Cat on her way out of the elevator.
You did advertise her appearance! Also, will she get jealous? And why is Cat here at the start of Season Two?
“Whoa, Lois! Where’s the fire?”
/points at Clark’s pants/
Lois watched Cat wrap her manicured hand around Clark’s upper arm like a Venus fly trap and her felt her temper flare.
Nicely done!
We’re not going to waste time standing here doing the math to see if that dress actually shows more than it covers.”
“Why are you dressed up?” Lois asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Doctors’ conference at the Lexor.
“Vanity Fair is opening an east-coast office in Metropolis, and tonight’s their launch party. Everyone who’s anyone is going to be there. Oh,” she said, sounding suddenly surprised, her plucked brow arched, “that must be why you’re not invited.”
B-urn!
“What hostage situation?” Clark asked.
and she immediately turned her focus back to Cat, though she’d missed whatever caustic barb she’d been served back.
Point Cat.
And while she did, of course, understand there was no way that Clark Kent could tell two reporters that he’d just looked through several buildings to ascertain that Myerson wouldn’t be joining them any time soon, she was angry that she and Clark hadn’t gotten past this yet.
You know, she’s get *really* angry when Clark offers to accompany Cat to the Vanity Fair gala instead.
CLARK: I can more easily slip out when Cat is schmoozing with the vanity crowd, clear up the hostage situation, give Meyerson a lift to the gala, and excuse myself to write up the hostage situation for the Planet. I’m sure Lois won’t mind me stepping out for an hour or so.
LOIS:
They could be even closer friends than they’d been a week ago, an unstoppable team that was so in sync that it was hard to tell where one of their thoughts ended and the other’s began.
You know, I fully expected to read the simplified version: “hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began.”
Her anger was rising so high that she felt sick.
Maybe if she sicked all over Cat’s outfit?
Her head turned back to Clark, and her voice turned saccharine and husky at the same time. “Unless you’d like to escort me tonight?”
See? Cat’s helping Clark with a well-crafted excuse.
LOIS:
“That’s a great idea,” Lois heard herself say.
LOIS: I don’t *have* to be petty all the time! I just like to be petty *some* time.
She knew he needed to help those hostages.
But it didn’t need to be her that he lied to.
She going to be setting him up with dates so he can lie to other people some more?
The last thing she saw as the doors closed on him were Cat’s manicured claws sinking into his arm.
Great work how you showed us her ever growing ire
Let him try to get away from that.
He deserved it, she reminded herself, feeling herself deflate.
So why didn’t she feel better?
Because she knows Clark will honor his obligations, return to Cat’s side and then accompany her home where she will invite him in for a cup of coffee.
Because she’d been the person that had made it harder for Superman to get to that rescue.
He just needs to be more creative. It’s good exercise.
So if anything happened to any of the hostages…
It would be her fault.
It was going to be a long night.
It’s what you get for being vindictive.
As she headed toward Perry’s, she sort of wished she’d let Clark pick up that pizza after all.
There there.
I do sense things are starting to escalate. Lois is probably reaching her breaking point soon and then things will get really interesting indeed!
Michael
