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To Clark Kent, my own “Half-Naked Kansan Warrior” that I realized too late.
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Almost reverently she pressed the book to her breasts, covering her heart with the italicized words centered on the fibrous paper. Finally, after so many years of searching her heart for the right words and at last getting them down, the hassle of finding a publisher and the right editor, it was published! Her book, her baby, her life's work!
Ah, sigh, I couldn't find a picture of a woman resembling Lois pressing that book to her heart, but I can so totally see her...

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The wanton face was a generic beauty with tiny dots of blue to mark cerulean eyes. A boyish frame held up an empire-fitted gown, barely any chest to be seen.
[Linked Image] The redhead! Well, almost... goofy

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an inquisitive moist nose poked at her hand as whiskers tickled her skin, and her anger left her. Lois touched her forehead to the cat's and sighed. “Well, Clark 22, it looks like we're all doomed to creative license.”
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Well, I googled "Clark 22" and this image turned up, so maybe it's him? laugh

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A prickling at the back of her neck startled her, and for a moment she felt a familiar sense of overwhelming apprehension. One of the only friends she had left; a god in a blue suit she would have once been happy to try and seduce now a pale comparison to the man she lost.
Superman as a god... so the picture is too big to put in here, but I can post a link!

Superman as a god

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A familiar whoosh, and as she looked around her apartment she wondered how many cats she'd gotten since the last time she saw him, if he would bring her another stray he rescued from a tree. How many did she have now? Forty-one? Forty-three?
Ahh, that's adorable!!! A Superman god who brings Lois all those cats!!!

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“—Forty-seven!” Lois jolted straight up.
Hey, Lois, didn't you know that it's forty-two that is the magic number? goofy

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So when she cried out the seemingly meaningless number and shot up as though an electric charge had coursed through her, he had started slightly. And then her face fell, and before he knew it she was crying. Not knowing what brought this about, panic shot through him and he felt helpless. A part of his brain cried out "Fix it!' and "Make it better!' while another part ran frantically about the room, tugging at its hair and screaming "Run away! Run away!'

The rational side of his brain bitch-slapped this last voice. Properly subdued, it cowered behind his medulla oblongata.
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Hiding behind....?

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A good place to hide. laugh

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“Oh, Clark!” She fell against him, arms folded against his chest and clutching his jacket, face burrowing against his shoulder. “It was horrible! I was alone and you were still dead and I wasn't a reporter any more and I got a book published and it had a really bad name about half-naked warriors and I ate too much ice cream and Superman kept having to bring me stray cats he'd rescued to keep me company!”
Isn't this the best Lois-babble ever, and a good reason for her to cry? laugh

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“If you ever die on me like that again, Buster, I'll make Dr. Hamilton bring you back just so I can kill you myself.”
Aaaaawwwww..... (and how about you kiss him before you kill him, Lois?)

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So all in all, it was aaaawwwww, Cat! It may not have had that much of a plot, but it was... aaaawwwww!!!! sloppy

Ann