Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Challenge The Contest Begins...Stories Here

OK, I've received several wonderful stories in response to the "Can You Guess the Writer?" challenge. I'm going to post all of the stories now, each story as a seperate entry on this thread (so keep scrolling to read the stories), and once you've had a chance to read them, give it a go to see if you can figure out who wrote what.

To all of the writers - I have posted your story exactly as you sent it to me, with the formatting that you find in the post (paragraph breaks, etc.). If you find that you want the story to be reformatted, send me an e-mail to let me know.

In order to help the readers post their guesses, below is a list of the story titles that you can copy and paste into your guess post. I've put them in alphabetical order by title. If you are a writer who submitted a story and don't see it listed below, please send me an e-mail in case somehow I failed to receive the story.

Also, we've received one Nfic submission. You'll find that story posted in the Nfic Thread, so head over there to read it but post your guess here.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place by...
Clark's Pet Peeve by...
A Day at the Metroplis Pet Store by...
Lois and That Cat by...
Lois and the Cat by...
The Pet Bet by...
That's All it Takes by...
Waiting for Superman by...
Still Life with Python by...

Dance with a Stranger (Nfic) by...

Let's see. How about if all guesses are posted by Saturday, September 4th, midnight EST. I'll post the names of the writers on Sunday and we'll see who's the big winner.

Good Luck!


Lynn

PS - Feel free, once the writers are revealed, to offer feedback! And thank you to all of the writers who are playing along by submitting a story

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

"Clark," Lois asked her husband late one evening, "did you ever have a pet?"

"What?"

"A pet. You know, like a dog or a cat or a fish. A little creature you --"

"I know what a pet is, Lois. I just wasn't expecting the question. What makes you ask?"

"I was just wondering." She put down the bottle of fish food and came over to sit with him on the couch. "When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog. Someone faithful and loving. But Mom was usually too drunk to understand, and Dad was always off somewhere else. When I did finally ask him, he said that we didn't have time to take care of a dog. That it was a big responsibility and that we'd have to feed him and walk him and play with him and all sorts of things like that. A dog isn't just a toy you can take out when you want him and then put back in the closet when you're done, he said. Then he told me that he needed to work and sent me to my room." She laughed ruefully. "Of course, by that age, I was taking care of myself and raising Lucy, too. Lucy, of course, wanted a pony. I knew there was no way that was going to happen, so I got a stuffed one for her and we pretended it was real. When I grew up, I still wanted a pet, but I knew I wouldn't be able to take care of a dog. Not with a reporter's schedule. So, I got my fish. Wanda knows me, and, in her own way, loves me. I feed her and take care of her, and I know she'll never leave me." Almost absently, she snuggled into his arms. "So, I was thinking about it, and I was wondering if you'd ever had a pet."

He hugged her close, reassuring her that Wanda wasn't the only one who loved her and would never leave. He needed her just as certainly as the fish needed water. "I grew up on a farm," he said. "There wasn't much point to having another animal around. I never really felt the need, anyway. Except, there was one thing..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that craze years back? Pet rocks? They pitched it as the perfect pet. You don't have to feed it, you don't have to clean up after it..."

"... And when you take it for a walk, you don't have to keep it on a leash!"

They chuckled, sharing the memory and the silliness of it. "Well, everyone in my school had one. They'd carry them around in their backpacks and show them off and play with them. I felt like the odd one out. So, I asked my Dad for a pet rock. He agreed, but he wasn't about to go pay for one just because it came in a box. He walked out the front door and started looking. There weren't many rocks near the house, and the fields were kept pretty well clear of them, too. He ended up walking almost the whole way over to the Irigs' place. He found a rock there that looked good. It was just the right size, smooth, and was covered with small flecks of some colored mineral.

"He brought it home and gave it to me. I dropped it, feeling like my hand was burning. He was surprised. He tried giving it to me again, but I wouldn't take it. Every time he brought it close, I started feeling sick. Mom and Dad didn't know what to make of it. At first, they figured it was some strange psychological quirk. They decided to try bringing it behind me or wrapped in something, to show me that it wouldn't hurt, but, even if I couldn't see it coming, I still felt sick. It wasn't until a couple years ago that I finally realized why I reacted so strongly to a stone with little bits of green mineral."

"Kryptonite! Oh my gosh! Your pet rock was covered with Kryptonite!" She had an odd expression on her face, as if she was caught between horror and mirth. "What did you do?"

"We got rid of it, and the fad passed. Kids still had their rocks, but it wasn't such a big deal anymore. Until then, I just didn't talk about it. I already felt strange enough. I didn't want to have to try to explain why I was allergic to my pet rock!"


The End

Clark's Pet Peeve

Clark Kent couldn't keep the grin off his face as he made his way back to his apartment. It had been a perfect evening. Well, as perfect as it could be for a guy who moonlights in tights. He and his partner had been dating for almost a month, but somehow, every evening still felt as new, fresh, and exciting as the first. Tonight, they'd gone out for dinner at a cozy little restaurant on the bay.

Afterwards, they'd gone out on a cruise around the harbor. The view of the city from the water had been nothing short of beautiful, but even more breathtaking had been the sight of Lois's enraptured face lit by the soft glow of the distant lights. The two of them had stood together by the rail, enjoying the moment. There were no words for it, but they hadn't needed any. Silently, they'd leaned against each other, and the gentle embrace of an arm, the slow tilt of a head, the subtle movement of a pair eyes, and the soft touch of a pair of lips had said everything that needed to be said.

The boat had continued its slow journey, letting the city fade into the distance. Away from the lights but still in the calm sheltered waters of the bay, they'd found a new magic. Together, still without the need for words, they'd moved away from the railing. There, caressed by an ocean breeze, they'd danced under the stars.

A heavenly eternity later, they'd returned to land. It had been late, but not so late as to rule out a moonlit stroll through the park. They'd only just arrived, however, when he'd heard the voices of desperate firemen across town. Reluctantly, he'd slipped away. He'd taken care of the situation as quickly as superhumanly possible, ignoring a nagging sense of familiarity with the building. When the fire was out and all the people were safely outside, he'd sped away, and, pretending to have been lost in the dark, returned to Lois. She'd laughed endearingly at him, and if she'd noticed an oddly smokey aroma still clinging to him, she hadn't seen fit to say anything about it. They'd strolled through the park, and then, reluctantly giving in to reality, he'd walked her home in time to get at least some semblance of a night's sleep.

Heading back to his apartment, his lips still tingling from a not particularly innocent good night kiss, he'd found it difficult to keep his feet on the ground. After a block or so, he'd given it up as a lost cause. He'd taken to the air, expressing his joy in a series of rolls and loops that would have left anyone else dazed at best. Then he'd drifted above the clouds, happier than he'd ever been in his life. Finally, when he'd settled enough that he felt he could appear reasonably sane to a casual observer, he'd come back down to earth. He'd landed in an alley behind his apartment, then, still grinning, had walked up to his door.

Inside, he was very surprised to discover Channel 4 News's newest anchorwoman sprawled artfully on his couch.

"Hi, handsome," her husky voice greeted him. "You're up late."

"What are you doing here?" he blurted.

She laughed. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Words failed him.

She stretched lazily, not bothering to hide the fact that the move was calculated to show off her best features. "There was a fire," she explained. "I was out when it happened, but my apartment is gone. You know this city. It could be weeks before I find a new place." She looked at him imploringly as she sat up. "I didn't know where to go. For a night, maybe two, sure, but for weeks? Then I thought of you. When I mentioned your name to that new intern you foisted off on me, he was very sure that you, warm-hearted man that you are, would have no problem taking in a stray. He even gave me a ride over and let me in."

Clark sighed to himself. He'd have to have a little word with Jack about not breaking into people's homes. Again.

She stood with a carefully practiced sensuous grace. "So, for at least the next few weeks, it looks like I'll be staying here." As she continued, she emphasized each word with a slow, deliberate huntress's step forward. "And you, you generous, handsome, wonderful, lucky man..." She paused to take a deep, dramatic breath. She was inches away from him. She reached out with one hand, continuing her stalking game by walking her fingers up his chest. "... will have your very own..." Her fingers were up to his face. With her last words, they went up his chin and then tapped him playfully on the nose. "... pet... Cat."


The End

A Day At The Metropolis Pet Store

Its Saturday morning in Metropolis and Superman is streaking across the sky. He has just put out another big fire and he is very happy.

<<Another job well-done by Superman>>, thinks Clark to himself pensively. Then he remembered its the weekend and suddenly its like the rain has started, <<no sight of Lois 'til another two days is passed>> he remembers sadly.

But, wait, his supervision can see a family figure on the street with the long dark hair bobbing like he loves and chocolate brown eyes and the way her bottom sways when she walks;<< what is she doing I'd better check she is safe>> Clark ponders worryingly. He streaks down into a dark ally and spinning on the spot his clothes appear like magic. <<I wonder if she will be pleased to see me >> He wonders mentally.

Hurrying up the street the passer byes saw a tall man with untidy short brown hair, it is too long but not alot, and he looks gorgeous in his black tee shirt and tight black jeans. Any of the girls are proud to be his girlfriend but he only had eyes for his partner, Lois Lane of the Daily Planet. One day they will be wed and she will be gravid with his five children but that's in the future.

Soon he spied her and runs to her side with superspeed. "Clark where did you come from?", she squeaks hastily. She wasn't expecting to see her partner, Clark Kent of the Daily Planet that she works with, because it is Saturday. "I am just coming out to buy the paper Lois" Clark utters happily because they are together at last.

"What are you doing out today, it is Saturday?" he continues quickly. "I've decided to get a pet Clark" returns Lois immediately. "You can come with me to the Metropolis Pet Store and advice me about pets, don't you have lots of animals in Smallvile Kansas where you come from?" she asks additionally. She pointed around the corner to the Metropolis Pet Store six blocks away. Clark is looking very handsome in his white shirt with his dark brown hair curling over the collar. "As you wish" he responds agreeably.

They walked to the Metropolis Pet Store and looked in the window. Pushing the door open, the animals inside greeted them with howls, barks, grunts and hisses. The shop is quiet because most people stayed in bed Saturday morning but there are six people there, one of them is a foreign student studying electrical engineering at the Metropolis University she is very intelligent on a scholarship with long curly blonde hair and flashing green eyes and violent ear-rings she looks at Clark's muscular legs in his shorts and thinks about being his girlfriend and he notices and likes her hair but he only has eyes for his partner, Lois Lane of the Daily Planet that he works with. She is buying food for her fishes.

"What are you doing Lois?" Clark checks curiously, "I am looking at these kittens Clark they are so adorable?" Lois states lovingly. The kittens purr and one wags it's tail, it likes her to. "That one has brown eyes just like you're ones Clark." Lois notices observantly. The store keeper adds hastily "Those kittens are chocolate point Siamese pedigreed kittens, they are four weeks old but they're eyes will be opened soon." "Their usually very dear but today there on special just for you missy" the storekeeper informs helpfully, he has fallen in love with Lois' chocolate brown eyes. "Mmmm, chocolate" Lois growls sweetly. She picks up the kitten who's tail is wagging and peaks at it. Clark looks at her peak and thinks she is as cute as the kitten, no cuter. "What do you think Clark" she requests politely. "Is it a boy kitten or a girl kitten? " Lois goes on questioningly. "Its a boy kitten." The store keeper continues immediately. Lois puts the kitten on Clarks shoulder, it hooks it's claws into his jumper which his mother knitted for his birthday on May 26, that is not the day he was born because his parent's didn't know but when he landed in Schuster's Field in Smallville Kansas twenty seven years before he came to Metropolis in a space ship. Lois looks up into Clark's handsome face with the hair that flops over his forehead and his chocolate eyes are melting. "I will take that kitten" she decides firmly. "What will you call it Lois" Clark interrogates beseechingly. "Lois isn't sure why but she interpolates gaily," I will call it Dean.

The storekeeper packs Lois purchases in a bag and their going to go but a bark catches Clark's eye. Their in the corner next to the parrot cage is a dark cage with one puppy in. He looks at Clark and Clark looks at him with his supervision and he has chocolate brown eyes just like Lois. "How much is that doggy in the corner" Clark pleads hopefully to the store keeper. "She is an hundred dollars but she has a sore leg so I cant sell him you can have her for five American dollars and 99 cents," answers the storekeeper specially. Clark goes to the corner and picks up the doggy, Lois follows him. The parrots are sitting in the ficus tree one looks at Lois and says a rude word, Clark puts his hands over Lois' ears. "What did it say Clark I didn't understand" Lois mouths softly. "I can speak 352 languages Lois but I'm not gonna translate what it said"! Clark refuses gradually and Lois is grateful he is protecting her.

Clark is still holding the puppy, it looks at Lois and she notices it has dark brown puppy eyes just like Clark. "Look Clark!" she cries instantly. "The puppy has eyes just like you're eyes," she explains informatively. "What are you going to call him" Lois finishes endlessly. "I don't know why but I think I will call her Teri" he ripostes selectively.

Then Clark's superhearing kicks him and he hears a call "Help Superman!" that only he can hear because of his superpowers. He is erect and ready at once. "Lois I have forgotten my appointment to return my cheese of the month shipment" he declares meekly and before Lois can say "antidisestablishmentarianism" he was gone. Lois did not notice the sonic boom of his passage. <<I wish he had stopped running away like he always does,>> Lois wishes plaintively. <<I guess I will see him again on Monday because he is my partner Clark Kent of the Daily Planet that I work with>> she muses thoughtfully.

The Beginning.

Lois and That Cat

The investigation was going nowhere. In fact, Lois thought it might even be traveling backwards, it was unraveling at such a pace.

Their original witness had recanted what she’d seen. Their sources, who had originally given them solid information and additional leads, now said there was nothing to tell. The leads had dried up… was this what it was like to be a normal, non-award-winning reporter? Lois Lane did not like it at all.

To add insult to injury, there was currently a cat in Lois’s apartment. Not just any cat, but a cat who was currently making the horrible, high-pitched horror-movie wailing sound that meant she was about to have a hairball on Lois’s beautiful carpet at any moment.

Lois refused to turn to look at the cat. If she scared the stupid thing, it tended to run off and have its hairballs under Lois’s bed. Or, once, in Lois’s closet, in one of Lois’s shoes. And the stupid thing scared easily.

After only two days with the creature Lois was beginning to think of as “the cat,” she’d invested in a really good carpet cleaner. Plus this stuff you were supposed to feed to the cat to make it stop having hairballs.

Unfortunately, the stuff required that you feed it to the cat, which was most definitely not happening. The miserable beast would eat the food she set out for it in bowls, but it didn’t seem at all interested in trying the gel-like stuff from the bottle of hairball remedy despite its theoretical “malt-flavored” appeal.

She sighed. This really had started out looking like another Kerth Award. A politician passing on government contracts to his brother, who ran one of the largest businesses in Metropolis … She’d even discovered that the businessman brother had served some jail time and made some contacts there that he was still keeping in touch with.

Screetch… scritch scritch scritch.

Lois jumped off the couch and glared at the cat, which was oh-so-innocently scratching its claws on Lois’s beautiful couch.

“You… nasty thing, you! Get off my couch!” Lois tried to swat the cat with a handful of the papers she’d been going through.

The cat gave her a much-maligned look and stalked off, probably to go eat some of Lois’s shoes.

She sighed.

Just as she was about to get back into her research, the phone rang at the same time there was a suspicious crash from the bedroom.

Lois chose the phone as being less likely to cause her to have a heart attack at age twenty-eight.

It was Clark.

Lois tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered when she realized it was him. She’d realized only a few months ago, back when she’d almost made the mistake of marrying Lex Luthor, that it was Clark she was… well, she wasn’t sure she’d go quite so far as to say “in love with,” but “in like with” had definite possibilities.

Ever since then, she’d been unable to keep herself from reacting with a little thrill to the way he said her name or touched her arm when they walked.

“Lois?” Clark asked, sounding concerned. “Did you hear me?”

“We’re meeting a witness,” she managed. “At... 7am?” Startled, she looked at the clock. “That’s in ten minutes.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” he told her.

Two minutes later, Lois had locked the horrible beast pretending to be a cat in her apartment and was on the street trying to catch a cab.

Clark looked gorgeous at 7am. Well, he always looked gorgeous, of course. But he smelled faintly of aftershave and his hair was still wet. When he placed his hand on the small of her back as they stepped onto the parking garage elevator, she felt a tingle go all the way up her spine.

Maybe she’d invite him over tonight, after they finished at the paper. They could watch a movie, share popcorn. It seemed that lately they only spent time together when they were on a case or when Lois needed protection. Which was almost weekly, unfortunately. At least with Clark around, meeting witnesses on the bottom floor of the parking garage wasn’t nearly as dangerous as it had been when she worked alone.

Their witness was a red-haired bank teller who was also a born gossip. She gestured wildly with her hands as she talked, showing off her bright nail polish and long, rather frightening nails.

“Well, so, the city councilman guy, Mr. Cronix, he was in the bank last Monday. With his girlfriend. The one the wife doesn’t know about. I don’t know what he sees in her, honestly. She’s all bad hair and bad makeup. If I couldn’t make him a much better girlfriend, I don’t know.”

“What did he do at the bank, Sheila?” Lois asked desperately.

Sheila giggled. “He cashed a huge check. Well, huge to me, pretty miniscule to him, I’m sure. Something like $9,000. And he sure knows how to spend it, at least, if he was the one who bought that dishwater blonde her earrings. I swear, those things were real, and they were spectacular!”

“Who was the check from?” Clark asked at a look from Lois.

“Why, his brother, of course,” Sheila said as if anybody would have known. “Now, I’m not gonna say that I have the biggest crush on Mr. Cronix, but... well, maybe just a teensy bit, and that made me curious to see how much money he had. You know, to see if he was as good a catch as they always say he is. And he is!”

“He inherited a lot, didn’t he?” Lois pointed out.

“Most of the money in his account was from his brother, though, one way or the other. He’d gotten a heck of a lot of checks the past few weeks, all under $10,000.”

“Those are pretty small,” Clark said.

She nodded. “Well, we see a lot of people get checks for $9,999 or something. It’s because if you write a check for $10,000 or over, it gets automatically reviewed to make sure everything’s on the up-and-up. And, ya know, nobody likes that delay, and sometimes they’ve got stuff to hide. The thing is, he’s gotten more than a few of those, and not just in the past week. They’re all from his brother and labeled “gift.” But if you add up everything over the past few months, it’s several hundred thousand dollars! That’s more money than I’ll prolly ever see in a lifetime,” she said, looking a bit bitter. “I think the guy’s cute, but that much money as a gift... well, it reeks. And when I heard you were sniffing around the pair of them brothers, I thought I’d best come tell you something. But, like I said, I don’t want my name anywhere, or I’d lose my job.”

Lois and Clark both promised, but Sheila looked somewhat doubtful. “I never reveal my sources,” Lois told her.

They were heading back to the Planet when Clark got his typical slightly-constipated look that Lois knew meant he had a sudden urge to go get a manicure or maybe pay a parking fine.

“Uh, Lois,” Clark said, looking around frantically, “I, uh...”

“Just go,” she said, rolling her eyes. The cab driver was beginning to look anxious, so Lois took pity on him and climbed in. “That better not have been on the clock,” she told him sternly, leaning forward to double-check.

It wasn’t so much what happened *in* the cab (although Lois was astounded to find that the cabbie not only spoke English but also knew where the Daily Planet building was located and only got lost once), but what happened when she got out of it. For, when she stepped out of the taxi, the first thing she saw was the cat.

“Oh, no. Not you again,” she said to the cat. “You were locked in my apartment!”

The cat turned and pretended it was ignoring her, as if it was just coincidence that it had escaped a locked apartment and found itself in front of the Daily Planet.

“Well, fine, then,” Lois said, stepping over the thing and walking brusquely towards the building. Thank goodness for revolving doors. The cat followed her at a subtle distance, but stopped, confused, when it reached those doors.

Lois hurried up the elevator and into the Planet.

Perry just *had* to give them another 48 hours to get something on this story. He’d been impatient at the meeting last night, unwilling to let Lois and Clark keep investigating when their sources had run dry, but he’d reluctantly granted them 24 hours. Now that they had new information, surely he’d give them even more!

She’d barely had the chance to sit down at her desk and turn the computer on, however, when she heard her voice called from across the room. To her surprise, the doorman was hurrying towards her, holding a large bundle of unhappy fur.

“Oh, no,” Lois muttered. Words that seemed to becoming part of her daily vocabulary ever since the cat.

“Miss Lane,” the doorman said, out of breath, “I think you left your cat outside. He’s been sitting outside the door crying, and I really don’t think you should take a cat to work.”

He dropped the cat onto her desk, nodded, and then headed back towards the elevator.

Lois shoved the cat off her desk so that it landed, feet down, of course, on the floor. Most of the papers on her desk went with it.

She sighed.

“What’s wrong, Lois?” Clark asked, appearing from the direction of the stairs and sitting on the newly-cleared edge of her desk. Lois’s breath momentarily caught in her throat before she managed to regain control.

“Clark!” she said delightedly. “Would you like a cat?”

“A cat?”

Lois scooped the creature off the floor, where it had been alternating between staring balefully at her and preening itself. She dropped the walking hairball into Clark’s perfectly-groomed lap. “This one,” she clarified. “It’s free, it’s had all its shots, it can be easily entertained with a simple shoelace…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “It? Is it a male or a female?”

“No clue,” Lois admitted. “I wasn’t about to lift its tail to check. It would probably bite me if I tried, anyway.”

“Where did it come from?”

“The depths of hell, I think.” At his look, she relented. “It’s Lucy’s cat. She asked me to take care of it for a week while she’s in Hawaii with her latest boyfriend.”
“And she didn’t tell you which it was? Or what its name is?”

“Smokey. Fluffy. Socks. Something like that. Nothing that gives away the gender.”

The darned thing was actually purring away in Clark’s lap. She hadn’t even thought the cat knew how to purr amidst breaking things and hacking up hairballs. Of course, she couldn’t blame it. If *she’d* been the one in Clark’s lap…

Well, she’d certainly be shedding less.

“Lois! Clark! In my office, *now*!”

Lois sighed. The inevitable meeting with Perry. At least they had some progress to show him, little as it might be. Hopefully it was enough to keep them on the case for another two days, at least.

Clark gently placed the cat back on Lois’s desk, where it immediately pretended to fall asleep. Lois wasn’t falling for that trick again, though. Last time it acted that innocent, it was only waiting until she turned away before it went on a curtain-climbing adventure.

Perry was not impressed by their witness. In fact, you could almost hear the air quotes he put around “witness” every time he mentioned her. However, he grudgingly allowed them two more days after much groveling by Clark.

“I wasn’t groveling, Lois!” Clark insisted after she’d called him on it as they left the office.

“You were embarrassing me. You were *so* groveling.”

“I was explaining. Pleading. But definitely not groveling.”

Lois rolled her eyes, only to stop dead at the sight of her cat. Sitting on her desk. Looking down proudly at the large dead cockroach it had deposited in the middle of her paperwork for the case.

Without saying a word, Lois picked the furry thing up by the scruff of its neck and carried it over to Jimmy’s desk. His worried expression told her just how annoyed she must look, but she didn’t care.

“Here,” she said, dumping the cat in front of him. “You still have those keys to my apartment?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, obviously realizing that this was a Lois it was best to suck up to.

“Take this cat over to my apartment and lock it in a room with no windows. Preferably inside its carrying case.”

“Got it,” Jimmy said, jumping up and scooping up the ugly thing as he hurried towards the door. He looked relieved to be escaping so easily.

Lois turned back to her desk, her anger subsiding somewhat. There were only three more days of the cat, and then she’d never have to see it again, anyway.

* * * * * *

This had not been her most brilliant move, Lois admitted to herself. In fact, it might even be one of the stupider ones... and considering all of the risky, foolhardy chances she'd taken during her career, that was saying a lot.

Still, it had been an opportunity she couldn't pass up. The businessman brother had been an easy surveillance victim. He didn't watch the cars behind him as he drove to work, apparently allowed his receptionist to take bathroom breaks, and didn't lock the supply
closet next to his office. What was Lois supposed to wait for, an engraved invitation? Once she'd overheard that phone call with his brother, she knew something was going to happen tonight. And then he'd headed down to the warehouse district... again, without watching the cars behind him.

And it wasn't like Lois hadn't *tried* to call for backup. But she'd forgotten to recharge her stupid car phone, again. So, here she was, hiding behind a stack of barrels just inside a warehouse she remembered was owned by the businessman, attempting to scoot closer so she could catch some of the conversation between the brothers. Without attracting the attention of the guards. She'd always liked a challenge.

However, she had *not* always liked cats. Still didn't, in fact. So when she recognized a familiar brown-and-white form picking its way carefully across the dirty warehouse floor, Lois considered murder. Did it count as murder if the victim wasn't human? Definitely not. Even if the victim *had* been human, it would be justifiable homicide by this point.

"Cat!" Lois hissed. "Stupid smelly beast! Get over here!"

The cat fluffed up its tail and continued to walk towards the guards. It was too far from Lois for her to reach out and grab it. Maybe if she could switch to that piling over there without attracting attention...

Too late.

"Hey," one of the guards said, taking a few steps towards the cat. "What's he doing here?"

"Probably here for the rats," the other said. "Let's hope he's big enough to take them. We've got enough for a few cats like him."

The first guard nodded, but he had a thoughtful look on his face. "Doesn't he look kinda like that cat that the reporter had, back at the Planet? We followed her back after she was asking all those questions at the laboratory. Same color, and the markings on the face... I haven't seen many cats that looked like that."

The second guard didn't look so sure, but he walked over to the cat. "Here, pussy. C'mere."

The cat, traitor that he was, strolled languidly over to the guards and submitted to being petted.

"Yeah, this is definitely her cat," the first guard said. "Lock the doors and start checking the room. You take clockwise, I'll take counterclockwise."

Stupider guards, Lois had often fooled. But these ones were obviously a touch above the average Larry-, Moe-, and Curly-types that bad guys often hired.

“The reporter!” the second guard called to his buddy while holding on to Lois by the scruff of the neck (a most appropriate way to carry cats, but not reporters). Within 5 minutes, Lois was trussed like a chicken and lying in a dank room somewhere beneath the ground floor of the warehouse. The cat, not trussed up at all, was shut in the room as well.

"Some help you are," Lois informed it. "You got me caught, you stupid thing. Why won't you stop following me? I locked you into the apartment! If you were a human I'd think you were twins."

The cat disappeared into the shadows without so much as a meow of apology.

"Oh, Clark," Lois whispered. "I really wish I'd told you where I was going."

Of course, then he'd be here with her, also tied up and in a locked room. Now, if it were Superman she'd told, he could be rescuing her right now.

But somehow, she'd rather Clark. Even if they were both caught, at least she'd have company. Somebody to bounce ideas off. Somebody to assure her that the guards were exaggerating about the rat problem. Somebody to kiss her and tell her that they'd be okay.

The cat meowed somewhere from the darkness in the corner of the room.

Lois sighed. It had taken her a long time to realize that she was in love with Clark. A year of knowing him, working with him every moment, spending her free time with him, thinking about him when she was alone. And now she'd never get to act on those feelings.

The cat reappeared in front of Lois, holding something dark in its mouth.

"What've you got?" Lois asked, attempting to lean closer without making the ropes cut into her wrists any more than they already did.

The cat dropped its prize. A rat. A huge one, in fact.

Lois tried very hard not to scream. Or throttle the cat using the extra rope around her wrists. But it was hard.

"You have not," she told the cat, "reassured me about the lack of rats in the room."

She sighed. “I hate rats. And cats. Clark, where are you?”


To Be Continued (after the contest is over)...

Lois and the Cat

When the drenched cat on Clark Kent’s doorstep hissed and spat at her, Lois Lane hissed and spat right back. There simply wasn’t enough room for both of them on the small stoop outside Clark’s door and Lois was tired of jockeying for position.

“If you would back off,” she said between gritted teeth, pushing a heavy curtain of wet hair off her face, “I can get this open and at least one of us can get dry.”

Even as the lock gave a cheery ping, and Lois was depositing her picks into her bag, she banged on the door to her partner’s apartment. Just for good measure.

Still no answer. Still not home. And as glad as she was that he was gone, she couldn’t imagine where he would be on a night like this one. Even the alley cats had the sense to try to come in from the pouring rain.

Though, come to think of it, she wasn’t sure how much smarter Clark Kent was than a city-bred alley cat. Being from Kansas, it had to be close.

The cat perked up noticeably as she turned the doorknob.

“No way,” Lois told it. “You get the stoop; I get the nice, dry apartment.”

It pretended not to hear, its face avidly taking in the widening crack, as its body coiled like a spring.

“You are *not* coming in,” Lois ordered. “I work alone.”

And that was mostly true. For the majority of her career, as well as her life outside the Daily Planet, Lois Lane had been a solo act. Up until just a few months ago, when the Chief, the one man in her life she had come to rely on, had clearly lost his mind and paired her up with... the man whose apartment she was currently breaking into.

The cat was standing now, brushing past where Lois stood, shivering in her sodden clothes, peering through the crack in the door.

If Clark was absorbed in a television show, or just sleeping, she would have a little trouble explaining her presence in his home. She had come for one reason and one reason only.

Superman’s globe.

Ever since she had learned of its existence, of Clark’s role in babysitting it, she had known she would end up here in just this way. She figured she was helpless to fight the urge, so she hadn’t really fought too hard. Clark wouldn’t mind, anyway. His job was to protect it, but surely that didn’t mean from her. Just from everyone else.

She wasn’t interested in reporting on it. Or even recording evidence of it. Hadn’t she left her camera at home? She just wanted to see it. She had to see it. To find out more about Him. The man who had flown into Metropolis and into her heart. She needed to know him, as much as was possible, and the globe was her key.

Having decided that all was clear, she widened the crack in the door, admonishing the cat once more to shoo. She gave it a helpful nudge with her foot so it would take the hint.

She missed. Her foot hit empty air, and before she could regroup, the cat had slipped through a crack she would have sworn it couldn’t possibly fit through. Just like that, she was the one on the outside looking in.

“No!” She tossed all caution and stealth aside and flung the door wide. “No, no, no! If he finds you here, he’ll know you didn’t let yourself in.”

Bored, the cat sat down in the den and began the business of licking raindrops from its fur.

Lois stomped across the room towards Clark’s bathroom. “Believe me, I will deal with you later,” she threaten on her way to grab a towel. After she had rubbed it vigorously through her hair, she attended to her sopping wet footprints. And to show that she wasn’t completely thoughtless, she got rid of the cat’s as well.

The cat watched all of this from the sofa. Lois watched the cat.

This wouldn’t do. When breaking and entering it was generally unwise to bring pets along.

She eyed it. She was just going to have to lunge for it, scoop it up, dump it outside...

The cat, as though reading her mind, bared a sharp set of teeth, before turning three times and falling asleep. Or mostly asleep. It kept one eye open, tracking her.

“Fine,” she breathed. “But I know nothing about you. Be thinking of your alibi.”

She started with the shelves, systematically checking the spine on each book to make sure they were, indeed, books and not some hollowed out safe place. The books were real. And so many and so varied, she found herself thinking of Clark at little differently. Like maybe he was somewhat smarter than an alley cat.

The storm continued to rage outside. Fat raindrops fell against the windows. She noted them as she rummaged through the window seat in his bedroom.

She was down on her stomach, shining her light under his bed, and noting the complete absence of dust bunnies, when the shrill ringing of the phone nearly stopped her heart. She froze, listening to Clark’s friendly voice informing the caller he wasn’t available. Then, the soft, lilting voice of his mother filled the room.

‘Hi, honey. Hope that cruise ship fire wasn’t as bad as it looked on television. Are you taking care of yourself? You looked thin...’

Thin? Cruise ship?

Lois straightened up. What the heck was Martha Kent talking about? She moved a bit closer to the den. Not necessarily to hear better, she wasn’t there to eavesdrop. But there were worlds of difference between eavesdropping and overhearing. Absolutely everybody knew that.

She was inching her way along the floor when another voice broke in. It took her less than two seconds to recognize it was her partner’s. And that it was coming from the room right next to her.

She was under the bed flat on her stomach before he finished his hello.

“Sorry, Mom. Just got here. You saw? Yeah, it was pretty bad, but I was in time. Hate that I missed dinner with you guys, though.”

Missed dinner with the Kents? Maybe they were in town? After having taken...a cruise??

The no dust bunnies thing was weird, she thought as she took note of her hiding place. Who dusted under their bed? And how? She gave the puddle that was forming underneath her a morose glance, taking a few daps at it with the sleeve of her jacket. Too wet to do any good. He probably would never notice. By the time he got around to his obsessive dusting, she would be gone and the puddle long dry.

“Everything else? Oh, about the same, I guess. Work is good. And-”

The cat entered the room on noiseless paws. It blinked at her, settling down on its haunches to watch her. Really, why didn’t it just point to her? Make a sign that said, ‘Lois is Under Your Bed.’ She scowled at it fiercely, hoping to scare it away.

It fell into that one-eyed sleep again.

“No, Mom, she’s exactly the same. She hasn’t changed.”

His quick bark of laughter was warm. Nice that he and his mom were so close. She would forgive him the no dust bunnies, then.

“She is *not* in love with me, Mom. Really, you are going to have to let that theory die.”

Who? Who was not in love with Clark?! And really, how dare they not be? She wasn’t interested in him, herself, of course. But that was because she had Him. Still, there was practically nothing wrong with Clark, and once she had borrowed the globe and gotten away, she would put in a good word for him to...whomever...

The cat eyed her skeptically. But what did it know? She was perfectly capable of doing nice things. Lois stuck her tongue out at it.

Clark’s heavy sigh pulled at her attention, and she stopped pretending all together that she wasn’t blatantly eavesdropping. He sounded kind of...sad.

“I know, Mom....No, really, I do know. Yes, he is me. I am him. There is no difference-”

Lois exchanged a puzzled look with the cat. What do you make of that? she asked it silently. Some kind of new age philosophy? All are One, or something like that?

The cat seemed to think that was as good an idea as any.

“-but still, you should see the way she looks at him. And the way she looks at me. No comparison.”

Oh, poor Clark. The woman who didn’t love him had eyes for someone else. She really ought to be nicer to him, Lois decided right there under his bed. Tomorrow at work, she would bring him coffee.

“Ok, ok. He *technically* is me. No, I do not have a split personality. I know exactly who I am...Mom, can we not go over this again? We both end up confused.”

Poor Clark. So messed up. Identity crisis. She would bring him a donut with that coffee. Maybe even the best one from the batch. Or the second best one.

“...Right, right, right...hey, can I talk to Dad?...No, I’m not trying to change the subject...ok, yes I am, but you won’t let me.”

His chuckle made Lois feel better. He sounded a bit more cheerful. More like himself.

“Hi, Dad. Sorry I missed dinner; I was looking forward to it.”

Again with dinner. If the Kents were in Metropolis, though, why didn’t Clark just go see them?

She glanced at her watch, straining to read its face in the dark. Good grief. 11:30. Well, wherever he had been, it was definitely past dinner time. Maybe he’d been with her...the her who didn’t love him and didn’t look at him the way she did...someone else. Clark was right, it was a little confusing.

And actually, she found that thought a tiny bit depressing. She checked the cat. Apparently he did, too. His sad eyes locked with hers. ‘There’s someone else,’ they confirmed. Perhaps overwhelmed by this new piece of knowledge, the cat moved lightly to its feet and drifted away.

“Yeah, sorry. I annoyed Mom, again. She doesn’t like the duo-personality thing. But it’s like Mom doesn’t even see the problem. And, believe me, there is a very real problem. I love her so much, but Lois doesn’t even know I’m alive unless I’m wearing...Hello. Where did you come from?”

Lois? Lois! Did he say...Lois?? Was she the she? The her? The one who didn’t love him? The one that he....loved?

She felt her heart start to pound. Up until this moment, she had really thought that if worst came to worst she could announce her presence- in fact, it had been on the tip of her tongue, or well, almost- and gracefully slither from her hiding place and leave. It would take some explaining, but she talked fast, and Clark tended to get overwhelmed when she did so. Something she had used to her advantage more than once.

But now? After what she had heard? She would have to live under here. Forever.

“You’re not going to believe this, Dad...” The wistfulness in Clark’s voice was gone completely. “...there’s a soaking wet cat just sitting in my living room.”

Oh god. Stupid cat! Stupid, stupid cat!!

“Hey there.” Clark’s voice moved closer. “I remember you. You’re from the back alley. Did I leave a window open?”

Yes, yes. That’s it! You left a window open! Very careless of you, Kent.

“Hang on, Dad, let me take a look.”

His footsteps were definitely closer now. Lois shrank into herself as much as she could, pressing her nose to the floor, thinking invisible thoughts.

“Well, it wasn’t this window.” His voice was right next to her.

She dared to open her eyes.

And what she saw was...unmistakable footwear.

Red boots. The hem of a red cape. All just inches away.

She actually heard the clunk of her thought processes closing down. Putting out the shingle, ‘Gone for Lunch, Back Later,’ and slamming the shop door.

Red boots walking around Clark’s bedroom. Talking on the phone to Clark’s parents about cruise ship fires, missed dinners, and her, Lois, who didn’t give him the time of day unless he was wearing...

The machinery in her head roared to life again. All the lights came on, blindingly so.
She clamped her hand over her mouth, swallowing hard against the gush of words that wanted to spring forth. The yelling. The accusing. And, dear God... the apologizing.

She cringed. She had to get out of here. Get home. A warm bath. A glass of wine. A light snack consisting of the entire contents of her refrigerator. Then, and only then, would she let herself think any further.

“Well, I have no idea how this little one got in. Skin and bones, though. You don’t think...?”

His voice had moved back into the other room. She let herself exhale slowly.

“I promise this would be the last one. I’ve only brought three....Oh? Really? Kittens? Ah...sorry about that. I didn’t notice she was pregnant....that many?”

Lois rolled her eyes. How very Clark of Superman. Using his powers to rescue cats and take them to his parent’s farm. What a story. Too bad she’d never write it.

“Um... I’m x-raying....Hold still, buddy...Ok, I can guarantee you that *he* won’t be having kittens in your hayloft.”

Superman and kittens and haylofts. Well, when she had come looking for the globe to learn something more about the caped hero of Metropolis, she had certainly gotten her wish.

“This will be the last one, I promise. And in my defense this one came to me. Is it too late to bring it by...Great! Tell Mom I’ll be there soon. That I’d love some of that pie she mentioned yesterday....You did? The whole thing? Dad...really, we have to talk about your eating habits.”

Superman and pie and his dad’s eating habits. She would have two bottles of wine. The good kind.

“There is *no* comparison. I have a Kryptonian metabolism....I know. I know. It isn’t fair, but it’s just how it is. Alright, I love you. See you soon.”

She listened as he replaced the phone. Good. He was going. He was taking the cat to Smallville and she would be able to get away. Get away, and gouge the last fifteen minutes from her memory cells...she’d probably need Star Labs for that...or maybe the wine would do the trick? Gin, if not.

His voice returned, as did the red boots.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve learned, little guy, and this is just from basic down-from-tree rescues. You and your kind don’t like to travel. Especially flying. And though you can’t hurt me, you could certainly hurt yourself trying to sink your teeth and claws into...where is it?”

Again the boots came closer. Lois watched them warily.

“I’ve got the perfect box to put you in. Trust me. We’ll both be happier. I’ll shut you inside and two minutes later you’re in a Kansas field, fattest mice you ever saw....”

Two minutes. Just two minutes. She only had to live through two minutes. Not a problem. She had been in tighter squeezes than this one. Easy.

Clark had gone quiet.

Lois listened hard. Had he left and she hadn’t noticed? Usually when Superman swooped away, there was always a sound. A zoomy plane sort of sound that accompanied his exits. Sometimes he would even grip the edges of the cape, leave in a bit of a flourish.

She loved that part.

But he wouldn’t do that every time, would he? When he was alone. Or carrying a cat. That would be a little silly. And, too, wouldn’t the neighbors note the noise, complain about the air traffic pattern that apparently ran right through the bottom floor of their building? No, he must just float up and off like a balloon when the string slips from your fingers.

She had a vision, a brief image. She had the string and was holding Clark Superman the balloon. Then, she was letting go and watching him rise... to get chopped up into the ceiling fan.

Lois smiled a little. A girl could dream.

She watched the seconds tick by on her clock. One minute. One full minute of silence. No voices, no footfalls. No cat, either. All clear. To be safe, though, she would wait one minute more. She was no rookie.

“You know, cat...” Clark’s voice sounded loud, explosively so, coming out of nowhere, as it had.

How had he gotten so close without her noticing?

“...I’ve looked all over for that box and I can’t find it. And when I say ‘all over,’ I mean, just that. Searched the whole place. Must have left it in Smallville.”

Above her, the mattress dipped, and Lois shrank lower, eyeing the heels of his red boots.

“Looking for stuff is pretty easy for me because of the x-ray vision thing,” he said matter-of-factly. “Though that doesn’t mean I don’t let things slip past me from time to time. Things I should notice. I was distracted, on the phone, *you* were here...so it seems I overlooked an important little detail.”

Lois shifted a bit uncomfortably. She didn’t know where he was going with this, or how long he might sit on the bed pouring his heart out to a cat. With Clark, there was absolutely no telling. Maybe he would never leave. He would fall in love with the cat and decide to keep it.

Where was a disaster when you needed one?

“I thought I would take you home, let you live with the country cats. A much easier life. But it occurs to me that maybe your life is here? Maybe you’re someone’s pet? I’d hate to be accused of pet napping. You’ll understand this, cat, but I’m curious...how exactly did you get in? If the windows weren’t open, maybe someone just...let you in? Your new owner, maybe? ”

The cat gave a muffled meow. A series of them. It was answering. Telling on her. The fink!

What if Superman spoke feline? She wouldn’t put it past him. He was fluent in...how many languages? Clark had mentioned that once, had read the Chinese fortune cookie...

“And now that I take a good look at you, you remind me of someone. Turning up where you aren’t expected. Maybe a little predatory. Probably you take after your owner? The major difference being that you’re here on my lap, and she’s currently hiding under my bed wearing a really short skirt.”

He had the nerve to laugh at the shocked squeak she couldn’t smother.

“Really short,” he continued. “Don’t think I didn’t take advantage of the view...because, well, it is my place, after all...

She jerked the hem of her skirt down as far as she could in the cramped space.

“Nice pet, Lois,” Clark said. “Does he have a name?”

She closed her eyes and let her forehead thunk against the wood floor.

“I never thought of you as the animal type, but I guess... you and I learn new things about each other every day.”

When she opened her eyes, he was there. Stretched out fully, hovering an inch off the floor.

“Hi, Clark,” she said weakly, brushing a fringe of wet hair out of her eyes.

“Some weather we’re having, huh?” Superman answered easily. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”

The end.

The Pet Bet

**********

Who would have thought a toaster could be a weapon of mass destruction? Well, okay, maybe not a weapon of *mass* destruction, if by "mass" a person thought of civilizations destroyed, natural disasters wiping out entire cities, or money markets crashing to non-recoverable levels. From Lois's perspective, however, the destruction in her kitchen before her didn't seem any less devastating.

At least, not to her spirits.

She dropped into a chair at the table, propped her elbow on its surface, and rested her chin in her hand. What had started out as a supposedly simple undertaking of making a nice get-you-going-in-the-morning breakfast of oatmeal and toast had become...well, not so simple.

With a heavy sigh, Lois forced herself to survey her kitchen. Oatmeal covered the stove top, creating a lumpy, brown sea across the previously clean surface, and dribbled down the front of the oven door, and puddling onto the floor in front of the appliance. Who knew that adding a little extra water could result in such a disaster?

Then there was the toast.

"I think the toaster must have a defective wire or something," Lucy had explained when she had been throwing out the near-new stainless steel toaster only the week before.

"Don't throw it out, I'll take it," Lois had said, thinking it was too nice a toaster to simply trash because her often-frivolous sister was trying to find an excuse to buy something newer and fancier.

Lois had carted it home, pleased with her find since her old toaster had died just the week before. "Defective wire," she had scoffed. Now she realized she should have listened to her sister.

Glancing over at her counter, she glared at the blackened appliance covered with Dry Chem from her kitchen's fire extinguisher. What was once a sleek, stainless steel toaster now resembled a smoldering cinderblock, its charred surface matching the blackened spots on the countertop and tiled backsplash, both also covered in Dry Chem.

Lois shook her head. Should she be embarrassed that operating a household fire extinguisher had become second nature? Probably. But it was the toaster's fault that it didn't pop up the bread when it was done, instead of keeping it within its housing and blackening it until the wires inside started to smoke, then spark and ignite. Or was it some kind of Lois Lane cooking curse? That everything she tried to cook was destined to boil over, burn, and keep fire extinguisher companies in business?

Other women she knew cooked elegant, wonderful meals. She, on the other hand, could barely manage to make toast. Well, not even toast, as the morning's escapades proved. Obviously she lacked a domestic side. And men liked women who were domestic, didn't they? Maybe that was why she was sitting there by herself, in an empty apartment, staring at smoldering appliances and oatmeal puddles. She could bring down entire crime rings and send international arms smugglers to prison, but she couldn't make herself breakfast without using a fire extinguisher.

Lois looked past the mess in her kitchen to the fridge door, where her college roommate's wedding announcement hung. Her friend and her fiance--now husband--looked so cute together, with their matching dark hair and eyes. They were holding hands and smiling broadly, and a large, glimmering solitaire adorned her friend's ring finger.

Nobody had been more surprised than Lois when the announcement had arrived in her mail a few weeks ago. Never in a million years had she thought Molly would settle down and get married. She hadn't seemed the type. She'd been like Lois--ambitious, opinionated, and driven. But apparently Molly had changed. She'd become domestic, like those women she and Lois had vowed never to be like. They planned, instead, to make a difference in the world with their work, and prove to the women of their society that women could be equals to men in the workplace. Lois felt like she was succeeding, but Molly had gone soft on her, had turned to the dark side, had turned her back on everything they'd believed.

"Why should you care?" Lois voiced the question aloud to the empty room, her voice sounding bitter and hurt in spite of the indifference with which the question was intended.

She knew she shouldn't care, other than caring that her friend was happy. And she obviously was, as Lois had seen for herself when she'd attended their wedding in upstate New York over the weekend. So, what was the problem? She shouldn't care a bit. But she did.

The question was, why did she care? Was it because Molly had turned her back on what they'd believed in? Or was it because Molly now had somebody to talk to when she got home at night...and Lois didn't.

*You have a great job," Lois reminded herself, *you're successful, you have your independence, as well as good friends--even if they are all people you work with at the Planet. You should be grateful for everything you have in your life.*

But as much as she tried to convince herself, there were times when those things just didn't seem to be enough, even when she repeated to herself the reasons she'd avoided relationships the past few years. It was best just to put the thoughts of what she didn't have out of her mind, and focus on the things she did have.

Even if those things *did* include a kitchen that looked like it had been through a holocaust.

With one last glance at her disaster of a kitchen, Lois stood up from her chair, grabbed her attaché, and headed for the door. She couldn't look at that mess for even one more second. She'd grab a croissant or something on the way to work. And call her cleaning lady. The kitchen mess was something she just didn't have the heart to tackle at the moment. It was just too depressing.

**********

"Hey, Lois," Jimmy called out as Lois stepped out of the elevator at the Daily Planet.

Clark's head jerked up when he heard the greeting, and his heart somersaulted inside his chest as it always did whenever he spotted his partner. He noticed, however, that Lois only mumbled a response as she walked passed on her way to her desk. Clark's brow furrowed. This wasn't the Lois Lane he was used to seeing. Usually her moods swung between fiery and passionate, to angry and unapproachable. This morning she just looked...well, sad.

He stood up and walked over to her desk just as she sat down. "Lois? You okay?"

Lois carefully avoided making eye contact with him as she nodded and pulled a stack of papers from her attache. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you just lost your best friend."

"In a way, I did lose one of my best friends."

Clark frowned. "What do you mean?"

For the first time since she walked in, Lois looked up and met his gaze. He caught a flicker of something indiscernible in her eyes before she attempted to smile and waved her hand at him dismissively.

"Never mind, Clark, it's no big deal. My best friend from college got married over the weekend, and I guess I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself, that's all. A couple of double fudge crunch bars and I'll be back to normal."

In spite of her brave front, Clark suspected there was more to this than she was letting on. But before he could pry further, Perry walked up, his deep, booming voice drawing them back to business.

"Where's that follow up on your money laundering expose? I want it on my desk in one hour!"

Clark assured him they were on it, then turned back to Lois as soon as Perry had moved on. "Lois?" he began.

But Lois shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "Really, Clark, I'll be fine. Let's just get to work, okay?"

Clark agreed, then left her to her work. For now, anyway. There would be time for some digging and prying later.

By noon, after spending the entire morning working, Clark could tell Lois's heart wasn't in it any more. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Lois, I don't know about you, but I need a break. Besides, I'm starved. Why don't we let this sit for a while and grab some lunch?"

Lois smiled gratefully at him. "Clark, you read my mind."

They left the Planet and walked a couple of blocks to their favorite café, and Clark was glad to see Lois relaxing. They ate lunch together, casually chatting about insignificant events. Clark kept waiting for Lois to bring up the topic of her friend's wedding, but she never did. They were almost back to the Planet's front doors when he bravely opened his mouth to broach the topic. Just then, however, one of their co-workers came out of the building carrying a tiny cocker spaniel puppy in her arms.

Lois immediately stopped and started cooing over the puppy. "Oh, how cute! Tami, when did you get her?"

"My boyfriend bought her for me last week, but my landlord found out and threatened to evict me if I didn't get rid of her." She made a face. "Now I have to find her a home. If you come across anyone interested in a puppy, let me know, okay?"

Lois nodded and stared longingly after the adorable puppy in her co-worker's arms as Tami hurried on down the street. 'What a cute puppy,' she thought. 'How fun it would be to have...'

A puppy! That was it! If she couldn't have a deep, meaningful relationship with a man who loved her, why not a dog? She'd heard they were good company, loved you unconditionally, and were always happy to see you. It was perfect!

Lois followed Clark into the elevator and grabbed his arm just as the doors closed. "Clark, I just had the coolest thought! Tami's looking for a home for her puppy, and I think a pet would be perfect. And that puppy is so cute..."

Unable to help himself, Clark burst out laughing. "Lois, you can't be serious! You can't even keep your plants alive! What would you end up doing to that poor little dog?"

Lois looked crestfallen at his reaction, and Clark immediately felt bad. "Lois, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just meant, well..." He fumbled for the words. "Well, you don't have the kind of schedule required for taking care of a pet. You're not home at regular hours, and you're always rushing off to here and there for your job.... I just think you'd be giving that poor dog a death sentence."

The elevator doors opened, and Lois rolled her eyes as they stepped out into the newsroom. "Clark, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? I'm a big girl. I can take care of a pet."

Jimmy was walking past and overhead her argument. His reaction was similar to Clark's. "A pet?" he said with a laugh. "Lois, you kill all your plants!"

Clark chuckled and gestured at Jimmy as if he were the proof Clark needed to back up his claims. "See? I'm not the only one who knows that."

Lois put a hand on her hip and looked from Jimmy to Clark. "You two don't think I can do this, do you?"

Jimmy snickered. "I'd bet you on it, but that would mean some poor little animal would suffer at your hands."

Lois glared at him playfully, then turned her attention to Clark when Jimmy headed back to work. She glared at Clark, too, until his smile disappeared from his face. "Is this what you guys honestly think of me? That I'm incapable of caring for a living thing?"

Straight faced, but with a twinkle still in his eye, Clark nodded. "Yes."

Before Lois could respond, their editor-in-chief's voice called out from across the room, "Lois! Clark! Glad you're back. I need to see you in my office, pronto."

Lois and Clark looked over to see Perry standing in his office doorway, then Clark turned back to Lois and cocked an eyebrow at her. "We'll finish this later."

"Don't think we won't!" Lois shook a finger at him before falling into step with him, the topic momentarily sidelined.

**********

Clark didn't get a chance to tease Lois more about it. Perry's meeting with them resulted in the possibility of a new story, and Lois and Clark went their separate ways to track down leads. Clark enjoyed the investigation part of his job, but he loved it so much more when he was doing his investigating side by side with Lois. When he wasn't with her, his thoughts were, and that made him less than effective.

He smiled. Lois was definitely something special. He enjoyed the feeling of familiarity they shared, and he could honestly say he considered her his best friend. They had grown steadily closer since her engagement and almost-marriage to Lex Luthor, and the fiasco that had resulted in Luthor's death. She had really needed a friend to get her through the aftermath, and Clark felt lucky that he'd been that friend. He knew she considered him her best friend, just as he did her. As time went on, though, he wondered if their relationship was finally hinting at more.

More often than not, Lois wanted to spend her after-work hours with him, which sent his heart soaring with hope. But he couldn't tell her just yet that he loved her more than life itself. Sometime, when the time was right, he would. He knew how untrusting she was as far as matters of the heart were concerned. He was more than happy to let her set the pace, to allow her time to trust him implicitly, and most of all, to love and need him as he much as he loved and needed her. He was convinced it was only a matter of time, and Lois Lane was definitely worth the wait. Of that he was certain.

Another thing he was certain of was his ability to read his partner and best friend. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that something had been bothering her this morning. The fact that he couldn't weasel very much out of her bothered him even more. He considered himself an expert on all things Lois Lane, but the idea of her wanting a pet baffled him. She never seemed the type to want the responsibility of a pet. She was too independent for that. But she'd seemed so hurt when he'd scoffed at her idea of getting a puppy that it told him there was more to this whole "wanting a pet" thing.

As he continued to walk down the street, he shoved his hands further into his slacks pockets, his brow furrowed in thought. There was a reason behind everything Lois did. He'd learned that over the last year and a half. Sometimes all it took to learn what was behind her actions, or to learn what drove an obsession, was a little subterfuge. It worked surprisingly well to drop a couple of meaningful hints into a conversation, or better yet, to tease her about a topic until she felt backed into a corner. Then she'd finally get mad enough to take a swing at him. Fists would fly, and then it would all come out, whatever it was she was harboring.

Yes, he'd get to the bottom of this. He considered it his latest mission.

As he rounded the corner of 9th and Westmore, Clark spotted something in a shop's window. He stopped and leaned in for a closer look. It was an electronic pet, a new toy gadget that was all the craze. It let kids "care for" a pet, to test their skills on how well they could raise and tend a dog, cat, or bird. There were various colors available, and the price was minimal.

Clark grinned. He had an idea.

And with any luck, it wouldn't be long before the fists started flying.

**********

Lois was going over her notes at her desk when someone dropped a small, brown paper bag onto her desk. She looked up to see Clark grinning mischievously at her. Whenever he got that look, she knew she should be worried.

She shifted her gaze to the bag. "What's this?"

"This," Clark said, gesturing grandly at the bag, "is the beginning of our bet. And I've upped the ante."

Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? What bet?"

Clark's grin widened as he made an impatient gesture at the bag. "Open it and you'll find out."

Lois did as he instructed and pulled out a plastic package about the size of her wallet. She stared at it for a moment. "A toy? You bought me a toy?"

"It's an electronic pet, Lois. Haven't you seen these things?" When she shook her head, Clark hurried on to explain. "It's this fun, popular gadget that you have to care for like a real pet. You have to feed it, water it--"

Lois cocked an eyebrow at him. "And how am I supposed to do that? Shove canned dog food in between the cracks and pour water over it?"

Clark laughed. "No, Lois, you have to care for it digitally. You see these buttons here near the bottom? One's to give it water, one's to give it food, the other is to respond to the requests that appear on the screen."

"Like what?" Lois asked skeptically, wondering why on earth someone would want something so juvenile.

"You'll have to read through the instructions and see."

"And you're giving this to me because...?"

"You wanted a pet, Lois." Clark gave her a maddening grin. "Consider this a trial run. Judging from the way you neglect your plants, I'm betting you can't keep that e-pet alive for a week."

"And if I can?"

"Then I'll help you shop for a real pet. But if you can't...well, at least you wouldn't have killed a live animal and have animal control knocking at your door."

Lois narrowed her eyes at Clark, who was obviously very pleased with himself. She thought it over for a few moments. An e-pet. How hard could it be? It even came with instructions. Maybe this was her chance to prove to Clark--and anybody else who found out about their little bet--that she wasn't incapable of caring for something. Besides, Lois Lane never backed down from a challenge. Never.

A look of determination crossed Lois's face as she nodded. "You're on."

**********

As Lois let herself into her apartment that night, she couldn't help feeling a little insulted by Clark's bet. When had her lack of domestic skills become an ongoing joke amongst her coworkers? Everybody, Clark included, seemed to think it was funny that she always killed her plants. If that wasn't bad enough, somehow her lack of culinary skills had become a secondary joke. How this had all become common knowledge, she had no idea. But she couldn't help it. She just wasn't domestic; she never had been.

Yes, she killed her plants. True, most of her fish never lived beyond a couple of weeks. Was that some kind of an omen? Did it mean she was doomed to live a life of solidarity and loneliness? Was she destined to never care for something--or someone--as long as she lived?

'Would that be such a bad thing?' the little voice in the back of her mind asked. 'There's something to be said for only looking out for yourself.'

But somehow, Lois knew that wasn't what she really wanted out of life. It sounded nice to have someone waiting at home for her at night, even if that 'someone' was a pet, like a dog or a cat. Didn't everyone need that? Was she just kidding herself to think she could go on living like she was forever, self-sufficient and lonely?

Lonely. Yes, as much as it pained her to admit, sometimes that's what she was. Lonely.

With renewed resolve, Lois sat up straighter in her chair. She'd prove to Clark that she wasn't incapable of caring for something. Maybe that would also help prove to herself that she was capable of keeping something--or better yet, someone--happy.

Clark's face flashed into her mind, but she instantly shook it away. Why was it that every time she thought of a long-term commitment, an image of Clark found its way into her mind? He was her partner, her best friend. Albeit an often annoying partner and best friend. He seemed to get under her skin in a way no man ever had. But he was also kind, considerate, and never backed down when he felt he was right. If she fought with him, he fought back. That, in and of itself, was a first. Most men scampered away like a frightened dog when her temper flared, which was often, she sheepishly had to admit. He wasn't easily scared off, and she realized she liked that about Clark. He had a rather endearing habit of making her *want* to keep him around.

But what did that have to do with his image constantly appearing in her mind when she thought of long-term relationships? Deciding she wasn't ready to answer those kinds of questions, she shook her head in an effort to clear it and turned back to the matter at hand. The bet.

Lois carefully opened the package containing the small plastic pet and pulled it from its wrapping. Then, with more care than she'd ever given to a set of instructions, she began to read. Surprisingly, it didn't seem that hard. Push the red button to give it food. You couldn't give it too much, though, or you could kill it. You pushed the other button to give it water. Then there was the matter of exercising it. You had to make sure to exercise it in the right place, like a fenced yard, or it could escape and get hurt or lost. Apparently, the little screen flashed occasional problems at you from time to time that you needed to resolve by selecting options on the screen. The LCD screen was easy to read, and it seemed programmed for a young child's level, which made Lois feel rather confident.

Convinced this was going to be an easy bet to win, Lois merely skimmed the rest of the instructions and turned her attention to pushing the buttons to feed and water her pet. Hearing a snoring noise from the gadget in her hand, she guessed the pet was asleep and taken care of for the time being.

Lois grinned to herself. Piece of cake. Clark was going to lose this bet. She would make sure of it.

*****

The next morning, Lois made sure to feed and water her pet before leaving for work, and she carefully tucked it into her bag where it wouldn't fall out and break. When she got to work, Clark was on the phone and looked at her expectantly. She simply smiled confidently and continued on to her desk.

Once there, she sat down and began pulling her notes and files from her attache, then checked on her e-pet. She gasped in horror as soon as she saw the screen. It showed a digital image of a dog lying upside down with its feet in the air and its tongue hanging out of its mouth. What in the world...?

The words "suffocation" flashed on the screen above the image, and a knot formed in her throat. 'Suffocation!' she thought in a panic. She didn't remember reading anything about suffocation. But then, she did skim the majority of the instructions. That must have been something she missed.

She groaned inwardly. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours! What would Jimmy say? What would *Clark* say? She couldn't let them know she'd suffocated her "pet" less than a day after she'd gotten it. They'd never let her live it down.

Suddenly an idea presented itself. Glancing over at Clark, she noticed he was still on the phone. Trying to be as discreet as possible, she slid her phone book out of her desk and started thumbing through the yellow pages. She found what she was looking for and dialed.

"King's Toys? Can you tell me if you carry those little electronic pet gadgets? I need one. Now."

**********

Clark's hand froze, his pencil hovering over his notepad where he'd been doodling while on hold. Had his superhearing really heard what he thought it had? Was Lois really calling a toy store to buy another pet? That would have to mean she'd already killed it.

A slow grin worked at the corners of his mouth. Unbelievable. Even more unbelievable--well, maybe not that unbelievable when he thought of how much she hated to lose--was that she was trying to cover up the fact that she'd killed it and was secretly trying to find a replacement. He thought for a moment about strolling up to her and casually asking to see her pet, but decided not to call her on it just yet. It might be kind of fun to see what would happen next.

And fun it was.

Over the course of the next three days, Lois killed and replaced two more e-pets. Each time she "secretly" showed up with a new one, she was more anxious and defensive. Her ferociousness over winning this bet--or justifying it as winning--only confirmed to Clark that there was definitely more to this than a simple bet. What it was, he was certain he'd find out soon enough. Lois wouldn't be able to keep it all bottled up much longer.

On Friday evening, Clark finished straightening his desk and turned off his computer. Then he collected his jacket, slung it over his shoulder, and strolled up to Lois's desk where she was packing some notes into her back for the weekend.

Noting she looked more tired than usual, Clark approached her cautiously. "Long week, huh?"

Lois didn't even glance up as she zipped her bag. "You have no idea," she grumbled.

She didn't say anything further, and Clark didn't press her. He simply followed her to the elevator. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "Are you hungry, Lois? What do you think about picking up some Chinese take-out and spending the evening together?"

Lois turned and made eye contact with him for the first time in what seemed like days. "Your place or mine?"

Clark smiled. Finally, progress. "Either one is fine. Which do you prefer?"

She studied his hopeful demeanor for a moment, then sighed and turned to face forward again. "I guess mine's closer. That is, if you don't mind it being an undomesticated mess."

She put extra emphasis on the word 'undomesticated,' and Clark frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Since when did she worry about being domestic?

When they finally reached Lois's apartment, Clark balanced his armload of Chinese take-out bags while Lois unlocked her door and let them in. He made a beeline for the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. Immediately, he noticed the charred, black spot on her far counter and wall near the microwave.

"Lois, what happened to--"

But before he could finish his question, Lois glared at him, effectively cutting him off. Clark decided to let it go. Whatever had happened, she didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he turned his attention back to the food, and he began to pull out cartons. He couldn't help glancing again at the blackened spot in Lois's kitchen. He wondered if Lois's previous "undomesticated" remark had anything to do with the burn spots, and if they had something to do with her mood as of late.

His mind was working to fit the pieces of the puzzle together when he suddenly heard Lois swear in disbelief. He looked over just in time to see Lois scowling at her electronic pet, give it a violent shake, then hurl it against the far wall. It hit with a thunk and a chink as it broke and fell into a dozen pieces onto her apartment floor.

"Lois, what are you doing?" Clark asked, stunned. He'd seen bouts of her temper flare up occasionally, but throwing things seemed uncharacteristic, even for her. He looked at the pile of pieces on the floor. "You killed your pet!"

"It was dead before I threw it, okay? Just as dead as my last three ones!"

Clark's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. An admission? Well, this was new. "Umm, okay," he began cautiously. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Lois?"

That was all the encouragement Lois needed. She flew into a patented Lois Lane rant and began to pace, and Clark tried to suppress his smile. His patience had finally paid off. Here came the fists.

"Those things are just so stupid!" Lois raged, her volume increasing with each sentence. "Can *anyone* keep them alive? They seem programmed to die. The toy makers *want* people to kill them so they'll just keep buying more of them! It's a conspiracy, I tell you. Sure, there are probably some people who can keep those stupid things alive, but what about us undomesticated people? Don't we count for anything?"

Clark tried his best to follow her dialogue, but he had to admit, he was lost.

He set the plates down and walked over to her, capturing her hands in his and effectively stopping her pacing. "Lois, slow down. I have no idea what you're saying. What does being domestic have to do with hurling your e-pet across the room?"

Having the pacing taken away from her, her anger turned to tears. Her eyes shimmered with them as she stared back at Clark. "Don't you see? Everyone was right. I can't keep an electronic pet alive any more than I can my plants. What does that tell you? I'm doomed to live a lonely, depressing life all alone, that's what."

Clark couldn't stop the surprised laughter that escaped from his lips. "Lois, what in the world does having a relationship and caring for plants or electronic pets have to do with each other? Those things are mutually exclusive. And neither of them mean you're going to be alone for the rest of your life."

"Yes, they do," Lois whined as Clark led her over to the couch and sat her down beside him. "And it's funny that I'm even worried about being alone, considering every relationship I've ever had ended up being a complete disaster. Why would I even want another relationship?" Then she let out an aggravated growl. "I can't believe I'm even thinking about this, Clark! Why am I so upset by this? It's stupid!"

"It's not stupid," he reassured her gently, giving her hands a squeeze. "Didn't you say you went to your friend Molly's wedding this weekend?" When she nodded, he continued. "Well, it seems only natural you'd be thinking about your own future after seeing your friend so happy. I'd be feeling a little blue, too."

She looked up at him tearfully. "You would?"

"Sure, I would." Clark nodded, and his eyes were earnest as he went on. "All my life I've wanted to find that special someone, to fall hopelessly in love, get married, and live happily ever after."

Lois smiled through her tears. "Clark, you're a hopeless romantic."

"Don't I know it." He smiled back gently. "But my point is, yes, I'm good at my job. My career has always been important to me, and I've worked hard to get where I am. That doesn't mean I can't want the other part of the dream, too. I honestly believe you can be successful *and* be happy. And if having someone to love makes you happy, then looking for a happily-ever-after relationship doesn't mean you've let yourself down. I'm sure your friend Molly would agree with me."

Clark's words seemed to get through to her, and she was quiet for a moment as she considered his words. Then she groaned and flopped backwards on the couch, resting her head on the cushion. "Oh, Clark. Why can't it be easy? Why can't I just find somebody that loves me for me, and isn't afraid or intimidated by me wanting to succeed in my job? I can't imagine standing around in a kitchen, cooking all day and cleaning and dusting. I'm just not domestic. This whole 'pet bet' thing can attest to that. I can't cook, I use my fire extinguisher almost as much as I use my computer, I kill all my plants--even my artificial ones have occasionally met their doom from my vacuum cleaner attachment--and I can't even keep an electronic pet alive. I'm about as domestic as an eggplant."

Clark laughed. "But Lois, men aren't only looking for women who are domestic. There are a lot of men who don't care if a woman can cook or entertain or keep a spotless house. Personally, I think there are other things more important in a relationship, like shared interests and a solid friendship. After all, you can't love somebody you're not friends with."

Lois thought back on her experience with Lex, and she knew Clark was right. She had been intrigued by Lex, drawn to his power and magnetism, but they hadn't been friends. She could never imagine sharing her life with someone she wasn't best friends with.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Lois conceded. "I'll tell you right now, though, there doesn't seem to be anybody out there for me that fits that description."

"Don't be so sure about that, Lois," Clark said, his voice quiet yet firm. "I'm sure if you look hard enough, you'll find somebody who loves you for who you are. In fact..." He paused, then forged ahead. "I know that somebody already does."

Lois rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right. Who?"

Clark opened his mouth to speak, then lost his nerve. He smiled gently at her instead. "When you're ready to know, Lois, you'll realize exactly who it is I'm talking about. 'Till then, you'll just have to have a little faith that things will work out."

Lois let out a noise of exasperation. "Clark, I hate it when you're cryptic! Can't you give me a little more to work with than that?"

"Sorry, Lois. I've already said too much. Why don't we eat our dinner before it gets any colder?"

For the next half hour, Clark's attempts to put the subject on hold seemed to work, and he and Lois fell into a companionable silence as they ate. Clark could tell she still wasn't her usual upbeat self, but he sensed their talk had helped her unload her pent up feelings. He hoped she felt better. As her best friend--even if that's all she felt comfortable with letting him be for now--he considered it his job to help her feel better.

As the evening wound down, Clark decided to leave Lois to her thoughts. As she followed him to the door, he studied her carefully. "Are you going to be okay, Lois?"

She unlocked and opened the door for him before she nodded and gave him a small smile. "I'll be fine. And Clark?"

He had moved into the hallway, but turned back to meet her gaze. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for not rubbing it in that I lost the bet."

Clark grinned. "What are friends for?"

Their gazes held for several long moments, and something almost tangible hovered in the air around them. Clark felt an irresistible urge to touch her, and for once he gave in to it. Tentatively, he lifted a hand to her cheek, allowing himself the sensation of stroking his fingers along her cheekbone and jaw. A look of hesitation flickered in Lois's eyes, but then she smiled and raised her hand to cover Clark's. His heart soared when she gave it a squeeze, her eyes never leaving his.

He savored the feel of her hand on his for a moment, the contact bringing his closeness he hadn't expected. It took all his willpower to slide his hand out of hers and take a step back into the hall.

"Have a good night, Lois. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, he was gone.

**********

Lois shut and locked the door behind her partner, then wandered into the living room. Her apartment seemed unnaturally quiet without Clark there. Walking over to the couch, she sat down, content to let her thoughts wander. It was a huge relief to hear that he believed you didn't have to change who you were in order to have someone love you. It was a nice thought.

Unexpectedly, she thought back to the funny feeling she'd gotten in her stomach when Clark had reached up to stroke her cheek at the door. It wasn't unusual for him to touch her. He was a touchy-feely person. He was always squeezing her shoulder or putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her through a doorway or across a crowded room. It was just who he was. And strangely enough, she realized how much she would miss it if he didn't do those things. It made her feel closer to him, somehow more connected. But tonight, when he'd stroked her cheek, the sensations she felt were ones she'd never felt around him before. And it confused her.

Was this the way somebody felt when they were attracted to somebody? It had been so long since she let anyone even remotely close to her heart that she couldn't be sure. She remembered Clark's assurances during their conversation before dinner that somebody already loved her for who she was. That seemed miraculous in and of itself. She wasn't particularly easy to love, since she so rarely let anyone get close enough to her to do so. But who was this mystery person who supposedly already loved her?

If he was right about this mystery man, it had to be somebody she saw casually since she so rarely dated. Ever since her Lex fiasco, she didn't dare trust her heart to anybody. The only person she trusted was Clark, because he was her best friend in the whole world. Who else could she have had tonight's conversation with? She'd confided in Clark her innermost fears and desires, and never once had he made fun of her for harboring such hopes of a life with work, friendship, *and* love. But then, she knew he'd never make fun of her, at least not over anything she was sincerely worried about. He stood behind her in all that she did, supported her, and loved her for who she was.

Loved her for who she was.

Lois's heart skipped a beat. Wait a minute. Clark had said there was already somebody who loved her for who she was, but wouldn't tell her who it was. Could he have meant...?

Her heart started to tap out an erratic rhythm as she considered the possibility. It was indisputable that Clark had always been there for her, and she could honestly say that his actions time and time again proved he loved her.

Just as she loved him.

The realization struck Lois hard. Was it true? Could she possibly feel that way about Clark? Never once in the year and a half they'd been partners had she ever thought about her feelings for Clark. Sure, she loved him as a best friend, but did she love him as more than just a friend?

She thought back to the time he'd skipped Christmas with his parents to come over for Christmas dinner when everyone else's plans to attend fell through. They'd been alone in the apartment, and she could remember vividly, standing in front of her little Christmas tree, adding to it the ornament Superman had given her. It had seemed so natural to take Clark's hand in hers, to have him at her side sharing the magic of the moment. Then, in her mind's eye, she remembered leaning into him, snuggling up against him, then looking up into his warm, caring eyes. If would have been so easy to kiss him. She wondered if they would have kissed if the carolers hadn't appeared outside her window, interrupting the chemistry-charged moment.

She also couldn't help thinking back to the times they'd shared kisses. They'd all been a farce, having taken place under false pretenses during stakeouts or attempts to escape their latest murderous conspirators. But there was no denying she had felt something during each of those kisses. It was that same rush of butterflies swarming her stomach and the feeling of them tickling her heart with their wings that she had felt tonight when Clark had stroked her cheek.

With a start, she realized there was no denying her feelings for Clark. And if she were to be honest with herself, she could see that she'd had them for a long time. But in typical Lois Lane fashion, she'd managed to ignore those feelings by pushing them aside and letting her rational side rule her not-so-rational heart. Well, for once, she didn't feel like being rational. She had to admit, she and Clark were perfect for each other. His calm demeanor and old-world manners were the perfect compliment for her brashness and spontaneity. He was patient while she was rash; he was considerate while she tended to be rude and insensitive. She only hoped there was something of hers to contribute that helped make him a better person. She knew there must be if a man like Clark loved her. Maybe she'd get up the nerve sometime soon to ask him what that was.

For now, though, she had more important things to think about. Did she let him know she'd finally put two and two together? Or did she wait and see how things went?

With a sigh, she realized she had some thinking to do. It was going to be a long night.

**********

Lois's stomach was a mass of butterflies when she headed to work the next morning. She had decided to tell Clark how she felt about him. But what was she supposed to say? "Clark, it suddenly occurred to me last night that you were talking about yourself when you said there was somebody who already loved me for who I am. And it's funny you should mention that because I suddenly realized I love you too."

She shook her head. No, that sounded too corny. But now that she'd found love, she didn't want to let it pass her by. If she'd learned anything over the past couple of years, it was that she shouldn't take life for granted. Or love, for that matter.

When she finally stepped out of the elevator at the Planet, her eyes immediately went to Clark's desk. Yes, he was there. The butterflies she'd managed to calm somewhat on her way over were now threatening to burst from her chest. She still had no idea what to say.

Trying to swallow past the tightness in her throat, she crossed the bullpen and neared her desk--and Clark's.

Clark looked up and smiled. "Morning, Lois." His eyes took in her appearance and a look of appreciation crossed his face. "You look nice today."

She glanced down at her sleek white blouse and long black skirt, which she had uncharacteristically spent so much time picking out that morning. She self-consciously smoothed a hand over her outfit and offered a slightly nervous smile in return.

"Oh, um, thanks, Clark," she stammered, suddenly feeling shy. She sensed that Clark had picked up on her unusual behavior, which made her even more nervous. She was never shy, especially around him. But she couldn't help it. Her feelings were changing toward him, and she didn't exactly know how to change her actions to go along with them.

"Lois, Clark!" Perry's voice boomed out across the bullpen, and Lois forced herself to put her jitteriness aside. It sounded like there was work to be done.

Thankfully, their work kept Lois and Clark busy the entire morning, which thankfully helped Lois's nerves. But every time she glanced up at Clark, she'd catch him looking at her in confusion, as if he couldn't figure out why she was acting so strangely. Each time she'd force her gaze away, knowing she didn't have an explanation to give him for her strange behavior. Not yet, anyway.

At lunchtime, Clark suggested they go out to eat at their favorite cafe. Lois was starving since her jittery stomach hadn't been able to handle any breakfast that morning, so she readily agreed--even if it meant the possibility of being confronted by her confused partner.

Lunch was mostly a quiet affair as Lois concentrated on her lunch, and Lois could tell Clark was almost at the end of his patientce. His glances toward her became more frequent, and he finally sighed as the waitress handed them their bill.

"Lois, out with it. What's bothering you? Are you still upset about the whole pet bet thing? Did I say something last night that upset you? Did I--?"

Lois smiled. He was so sweet. The moment she seemed distant, Clark immediately thought it was something he had done to make her act that way. He was always thinking about her, always concerned for her. He obviously loved her very much. Why hadn't she seen it before? She was very lucky to have a man like him in her life.

Meeting his gaze openly, she smiled and reached for his hand. He seemed surprised by her gesture, but he smiled back and gave her hand a squeeze. That was all the encouragement Lois needed.

"Clark--"

"May I clear your plates for you?"

Lois looked up to see a busboy standing at their table with a tub of dishes. Then she glanced back at Clark and saw that he was clearly frustrated with the interruption. Lois nodded at the busboy, then gave Clark's hand a squeeze before sliding out of the booth and standing up.

"Let's continue this outside, shall we?" she said to Clark, who nodded eagerly.

She excused herself to the ladies' room, and Clark told her he'd pay the check and meet her out front. Once in the ladies' room, Lois took a few minutes to compose herself and give herself a pep talk. Clark was an amazing man. She'd be crazy not to tell him how she felt, especially when he obviously loved her as much as he did. It made her both excited and nervous, though, knowing that the course of the next few minutes would likely change the rest of her life.

Finally feeling brave enough to face Clark again, she smoothed her hand along the front of her skirt, ran her fingers through the ends of her hair, and quickly checked her makeup. Then she headed out of the restaurant. Clark was waiting for her outside just as he said he would be, and she smiled up at him. He smiled back, and the butterflies in her stomach immediately started in again.

She'd never really taken the time to study Clark's face before, so open and honest, but now she found herself doing just that. She loved the way the corners of his lips curved up when he smiled, or the way his eyes sparkled when his smile reached all the way into his eyes. She also couldn't help noticing the little mole over his upper lip, or the way his lips suddenly looked very full and appealing.

Feeling suddenly nervous, Lois once again ran her hand down the smooth silk of her blouse, and Clark caught her movement. He glanced down at her hands, then his expression quickly changed. He grasped her arm and pulled her a couple of steps away from the restaurant's entrance, away from the crowds on the sidewalk.

When Lois looked up at him questioningly, Clark leaned down and whispered discreetly, "Lois, you have a couple of buttons on your blouse that are undone."

Lois's gaze quickly shifted to her blouse, and she saw he was right. Feeling a little embarrassed, she quickly reached for her buttons and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Being the awesome friend that he was, Clark took a step closer to her to discreetly shield her actions from the other passersby.

Lois's heart put in a couple of extra thumps at his nearness. She subconsciously breathed in the smell of his cologne that hovered in the air around her. She'd always loved the smell, but suddenly it was her new favorite smell in the whole world.

She finished with her buttons but remained where she was, enjoying the feeling of having him so near, of feeling so loved and protected. She watched him glance left and then right, making sure nobody could see her.

That one simple action made her think back to all the little things he had done for her over the years, the same little things that, if she had only taken the time to notice, would have told her long ago of his feelings for her. Just the night before he had said someone loved her for who she was. In that moment, there was no question in her mind who that someone was.

Feeling an unfamiliar stirring in her heart for her best friend, she smiled slowly at him as he glanced discreetly in her direction to see if she was done.

"Okay?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yep, I'm good. Thanks."

He smiled tenderly. "Anytime, Lois."

Their eyes met and held, and the air around them seemed charged with chemistry. Lois recognized this feeling from that Christmas not so long ago. She'd let the magic of the moment escape her then, but she wasn't about to let it now. Giving in to an impulse, Lois reached up, cradled his face in her hands, and kissed him firmly but gently as if were the most natural thing in the world to do. Clark seemed stunned, but then his lips softened and they moved gently over hers in sweet response.

When they finally pulled away, a delicious sigh escaped Clark's lips. His eyelids remained closed for several moments, then flickered open cautiously, as if he were afraid that when he opened his eyes, he'd realized he'd been dreaming. When she was still there standing before him, a happy smile slowly spread across his face. "What was that for?" he asked breathlessly.

Lois smiled softly in return, stroking his cheek in much the same way as he had only the night before. "That was for all the sweet things you do for me every day--the way you discreetly tell me my blouse is undone and then make sure no one sees as I fix it, the way you bring me my favorite donut from the box in the morning, the way you always give me that look of yours before I can put my foot in my mouth or make a fool of myself.... You have always treated my concerns as if they were your own, and that means so much to me."

She paused and let her hand fall to her side, her smile suddenly turning mischievous. "And you know how you said last night that there was somebody you knew that loved me for who I am?"

Clark nodded, a look of hope lighting up his eyes.

"Well, I'm beginning to feel the same way about him." Then, with a wink, she turned and walked away, her long skirt swishing seductively around her legs.

Clark watched her for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. She was beginning to feel the same way. Unbelievable. The earth could stop right now and he could die a happy man. He was a lucky man indeed.

With his feet as light as his heart, he hurried to catch up with her, their eyes meeting as he fell into step with her. Unable to stop himself, he started up his end of their usual bantering. "Okay, I have to say something here," he began. "In case it's me who you're talking about, I thought you should know, I hope you're not planning on treating me like your electronic pets."

Lois giggled. "You mean you don't want to be suffocated, starved, sent running into the street to get run over by a car, or even hurled against a wall?"

Clark grinned. "Something like that."

"I'll do my best."

"In that case, I am in trouble."

Lois elbowed Clark in the side, causing his laughter to mingle with hers. He nudged his shoulder against hers affectionately. "Seriously, you don't need to worry about me. I'm hardier than you think. Unlike those pets or plants of yours, it's going to be pretty hard to send me to my death."

"Oh?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, but that's something we can talk about later."

Lois smiled at him and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Clark." As they continued to walk, she reached for his hand and immediately felt a jolt of electricity pass between them as he laced his fingers through hers. For once, Lois let herself relax and revel in the glow of newly found love.

Feeling happier than she'd felt in a long time, she squeezed his hand. "This is going to work out perfectly, don't you think?"

Clark winked as they walked through the Planet's revolving door. "I don't think, Lois, I know. Trust me. It's going to be super."


The End.

Dance with a Stranger

Posted in the Nfic thread, right here.

Read it there if you are of age.

That’s All It Takes

* * *

Lois timidly stepped inside the pet shop and glanced around. Cages, cages, cages everywhere, with animals of all sorts and sizes in them.

The clerk, a red-headed teenage girl, approached her. “Can I help you?”

“Yes...” Lois mumbled. “I would like a cat.”

* * *

A couple of months earlier, a series of unpleasant events had begun taking place, one that had immensely affected Lois and made her see things she had been overlooking until now.

It began with her almost-wedding to Lex Luthor – or, rather, with his proposal. Then, Clark’s declaration of love, Superman’s rejection, the wedding fiasco, and... Clark telling her that he’d lied; that he had just said he loved her in order to prevent her from marrying Luthor. This was the first time she lost him.

Then, Mayson Drake’s arrival. This was the second time.

And yesterday... the third and final time. Clark was shot. He died to protect her.

She had no doubt now; he did love her. More than his own life.

And what about her? It had taken her a year to admit to herself she loved him more than a friend; more even than a brother. And yet, even after she had, she had lost him three times. It had been her own stupidity all along – if she had done things just a little bit differently, he’d be alive now... and they’d be... together...

Now it was all over.

So this was why she was here, intending to buy a cat. Although the idea of turning to an old maid with half a dozen cats was far from an appealing scenario for her, she needed a company she could find nowhere else. Maybe a pet could ease the pain of loss.

“Sure,” the young girl replied with a smile. “We have a wide selection of cats to choose from.”

‘Very professional,’ Lois automatically thought and hid a frown. Every day more people became like her; cold and professional, despite the polite smile.

She followed the girl to the cat cages.

“Here, we have...” The girl began describing every cat’s merits, but Lois was not paying any attention to her. She’d go with her gut, as always.

A silver-haired, furry animal drew her attention. “Is this a Persian cat?”

The girl, abruptly cut in mid-sentence, turned to see. “Yes. This is one of the most beautiful cats you can find.”

Lois gazed at the cat’s blue eyes for a moment. The animal looked miserable. They’d make a nice couple.

“How much is it?” she finally asked.

* * *

She entered her apartment and dropped down everything she was holding, panting heavily. Going to the fifth floor when the elevator was broken down wasn’t all that bad, but when you were also carrying a cat cage and three heavy bags it was unbearable.

The cat mewed complainingly at the rough landing.

“Sorry, Lisa,” Lois puffed, locking the door. That was the name she had come up with, while buying cat-food at the supermarket. She had never been fond of names like Queen or Snow White or Beauty. She wanted something casual; the animal was supposed to be a friend, not an exhibit.

She grabbed the bag with the cat-food cans and emptied it in one of the kitchen cabinets. The other two bags contained a red velvet pillow, a pink plastic plate and an elegant cat cradle with its pillows and sheets. The pillow was put near the loveseats, the cradle in the bedroom and the plate, temporarily empty, on the kitchen table.

‘Time to free the poor animal,’ Lois thought. She opened the cage and the cat gratefully ran right inside her arms. She rubbed its back and it purred in satisfaction.

Tears sparkled in Lois’s eyes. Opening a door was all it took to make this animal a friend. Something so painless had earned her something so precious. She should’ve realized it earlier that this was the way it always worked.

This was the way Clark had reached so deep inside her heart, too. By doing little, simple things, such as telling her good morning or bringing her coffee. That was all it took.

Lois sniffed and stared at Lisa for a moment. Her new friend.

Then, she gently put her on her pillow and went to serve her some food.

* * *

Clark had been patrolling over the city for hours. It wasn’t like there was much else to do; his Clark self was now dead.

He couldn’t tell if he regretted it or not. Unless he’d stepped in front of that gun, Lois would now be dead. But maybe he could find something else to do... just push Lois away, or pull her near him, or... something else...

Well, now it was done and couldn’t be undone. The good thing was that he was still alive. It wouldn’t be easy to figure a way out, but, if all else failed, there was still Superman.

As he flew around, he noticed Lois’s window; it was still lighted. She was still up. Maybe he should pay her a visit. Just seeing her for a minute would be enough to make him feel better.

* * *

Lois had tried to go to bed early, but the thoughts spinning inside her head prevented her from even closing her eyes. So she had preferred listening to music. Lying on her loveseat – it was uncomfortable, but who cared? – she had spent hours listening to Love Songs Vol. 1, 2 and now 3. Lisa lay on the opposite loveseat, awake too. She was the perfect company for Lois, who didn’t need to talk now; Lisa could just be a friendly face near her, someone who was there for her.

The music wasn’t loud enough to cover the gentle tap on the window. Lois turned the stereo off and went to open the window.

“Hi,” Superman said.

“Hi.”

“I saw you were awake and thought to stop by, if that’s okay...”

“Sure. Come in,” she said laconically and went to sink on the loveseat.

Clark bit his lip. “Are you sure you want me...”

“Yes, yes,” she assured him.

It was only when he joined her on the couch that he noticed Lisa. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“I bought her today.”

Her dry replies concerned him and he wondered whether it was about Clark’s – *his* – death. Seeing her at that state, absently fiddling with her fingers, making absolutely no effort to talk, upset him. “Are you okay, Lois?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Is it...” He took a deep breath. “Is it because of Clark?”

Lois didn’t stop fiddling, but he noticed that her face began getting red. “Of course not,” she said naturally. “It’s not Clark’s fault he died. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”

“Lois...” He reached out for her hand, but she ignored him.

“I’m sure he didn’t. I know he’d rather be here now...” She swallowed a lump. “Here...”

She fell on Superman’s arms, letting her tears flow freely. “Oh, Superman... I miss him so much...”

Clark was torn. He had no idea his death would hurt Lois so much. He tried to see the positive side of the story, that now he knew how deeply she cared for him, but it was impossible. All he could see was the woman he loved, crying because she thought she had lost him.

He could spare her the pain. One word was all it took. One word, and she’d stop crying...

Would she start yelling? Accusing him of lying to her? Of not trusting her with something so important?

Knowing Lois, it was possible. Heck, he felt guilty himself for lying to her for so long.

Yes, she had to know. “Lois...”

She didn’t pay attention to him.

“Lois...” he repeated, more intensely.

She wiped her tears and sat back. “What?”

“Don’t cry. Clark’s not dead.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“It’s me. I’m Clark.”

She wondered what he was trying to achieve by talking nonsense. The questioning look didn’t leave her face.

“It’s me,” he insisted. “Look.”

He rose and spun into his normal clothes. Lois stared at him, slack-jawed. “You...” she stammered, helplessly pointing at him.

It was him! It was him all along! She had thought he was dead, and he was out there! He let *her*, his best friend, believe he was dead!

The finger now pointed accusingly at him. “You,” she repeated angrily. Her mouth opened in disbelief. “You let me think you were dead!”

“I know, but...”

“And you have the nerve to come here?”

“Lois...”

“What?” she said loudly. “What are you going to tell me? What could you tell me, after making me spent the worst day of my life?”

“Lois...”

“I spent the whole day worrying over you.” She approached him, fury flashing in her eyes. “Crying for you. And you were out there, and didn’t think for a moment to come and tell me you were alive!”

“I did now!”

“No, you didn’t,” she said bitterly. “I’m sure it only occurred to you now. Otherwise you would’ve told me the moment you came.”

Clark lowered his head as a wave of embarrassment overflowed him. She was right. Much as he’d thought about her all day, telling her the truth hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Now what?” she spoke again. “What are you waiting for?”

“Lois...” He looked up. “Forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” She fell on the loveseat, refusing to look at him. After what he had done, how could she forgive him? How could she pretend nothing had happened, when this day had been a nightmare coming true? She spent twenty-four hours mourning, grieving over his death, and he could only come *now*? All that guilt she’d felt over his death was pointless?

He had seen her cry earlier. The moment he was shot. And he didn’t care, then? Now, now that it was all safe, only now did he dare tell her?

And she thought he loved her! No wonder why he’d stepped between her and the bullet. Because he knew he was safe. All he had to do was stumble and fall down. And when they dumped him away, all he had to do was stand up and... fly!!

No, he didn’t deserve one single tear. He, the man she thought she had loved, yet another liar. What a pattern.

Clark watched her silently. He could only imagine what she was thinking, what a shock that must had been. The strange part, though, was that she seemed to be worried more about why he let her think he was dead, instead of why he hadn’t told her he was Superman. This was certainly not something he had expected.

Lois had buried her face in her palms, oblivious to Clark’s presence, when she felt something soft on her lap. Lisa had climbed on her.

“Lisa...” she sobbed, taking the cat in her hands and bringing their faces to the same level. “Look what he did to me.”

Lisa stared back at her, with a look Lois found sympathetic.

And, suddenly, her own thoughts returned to her, like a mirror.

‘Little, simple things... was all it took. This was the way it always worked.’

Lisa mewed, as if she was trying to get Lois to understand.

One little, simple thing. Just like... forgiving him?

And what would come next?

Lisa mewed again. Lois let her sit on her laps, trying to gather all the courage she had. If one little, simple thing was all it took, she wouldn’t go there unless she was sure it was worth it.

“Clark...” she said, without looking up to him.

“Yes?” He knelt beside her.

She gazed at the door absent-mindedly. “Do you love me?”

Clark was taken aback. “Of course I...”

“The truth,” she harshly cut him.

He grabbed her hands. “Yes, I love you, Lois. More than anything.”

“More than your life?” she asked, mocking her own thought from a few hours before. Her face was reddening again.

“More than my life.”

She didn’t speak. It was all so hard to believe anymore...

“Lois, look at me,” Clark pleaded.

Lois turned to him, still speechless.

“Do you believe I don’t love you?” he asked, hurt in his voice.

She gazed into his chocolate-brown eyes. She was surprised to discover the glimpse of tears in them as he stared back at her.

The expression on his face was something she’d never seen before. She had seen him worried, sad, disappointed, hurt... but this was something new. As if her answer would determine his fate; his life, or his death.

And just seeing that expression was enough to make her realize what she wanted his fate to be.

“No, I don’t,” she smiled.

Clark’s face shone. Lois thought with a chuckle that she had never seen an expression of such an unspoken happiness on his face either. She lowered her head and their foreheads touched.

“I love you, Lois,” Clark repeated.

“I love you too, Clark.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.”

He cupped her cheek with his hand and their lips joined in a soulful kiss, as their mutual love brought them closer for the first time.

Lisa, wanting to grant them some privacy, she headed to Lois’s bedroom and tucked under her cradle sheets. It was bedtime, and she knew that the muffled voices from the living room wouldn’t disturb her sleep.

THE END

Waiting For Superman

I love watching her eat. Neatly and nimbly, she clears her plate, leaving not a single morsel behind. She’s a very tidy eater and doesn’t rush her food She eats steadily, savouring each mouthful. You can really tell she enjoys it, and she has a surprisingly voracious appetite for someone so small.

Afterwards we sit on the sofa together, she on my lap, me stroking her. She’s warm and soft, and she purrs, a soft sound of pure contentment. I feel myself relax, the kinks and knots of tension in my shoulders smoothing away. She’s so good for me.

It wasn’t love at first sight. It’s taken us a little while to get to know each other, and even longer to learn to trust each other. We didn’t meet under ideal circumstances, you see. I was distracted and hardly noticed her at first. It wasn’t until she made a fuss that I saw her, and I think it took her a while to forgive me for that.

These days, though, we’re like an old couple. We know each other’s habits and moods, know when to be cuddly and close and when to stay out of each other’s way. She stretches indulgently on my lap, then settles back again. I think she might fall asleep now, but I don’t mind. It’s been a long day and I’m happy just to sit quietly with her.

She’s not always so peaceful. She can be pretty feisty at times – it’s a good thing I’m invulnerable, otherwise she might well have drawn blood by now. I guess it’s her independent spirit that makes us clash, and if I’m being honest, I can be pretty stubborn, too. The result is that we don’t always agree: I want to do things my way and she wants to do them her way.

Of course, she can also be aloof and haughty when she thinks I’ve done wrong. I get ignored on a regular basis.

Then again, sometimes she’s playful – she forgets her age and does something for the pure fun of it. I join in and before I know it, we’re cavorting around like a couple of youngsters.

It’s times like those that make me really glad I decided to share my apartment with her. I think I’m a better person since she came into my life. She lightens my spirit and makes me feel wanted. She’s my own personal welcoming party whenever I arrive home.

Oh, and we share another bond, she and I. One that goes deeper than all the others, and which will probably keep us together no matter how often we argue or hurt each other.

We share a loss.

You see, when I mentioned before that we met under difficult circumstances, I didn’t give you the full story. We actually met in a burning building.

The place was an inferno by the time I arrived. I’d been on the other side of town dealing with a tricky hostage situation when I’d heard the call, and hadn’t been able to respond immediately without jeopardising the lives of the hostages. When I finally arrived, I could see immediately that I was too late. Flames leapt high from all the windows and the roof was on fire. Still, I plunged into the blaze and began to search for the elderly gentleman the neighbours outside had said lived there.

I found him in his bedroom. He’d tried to ward off the fire by shoring up the door with bedclothes, but his efforts had been futile against the intensity of the flames. He’d died in his bed, and I could only hope that the fumes from the thick, pungent smoke which filled the room had sent him unconscious before the flames had reached him.

For a long moment, I was frozen, gazing down at this lost life, this person who’d lived through world wars and terrorist attacks, who’d gathered up a lifetime’s wisdom and experience, only to have it all snatched away by the obscenely arbitrary fire that raged around us. People would no doubt say what a blessing it was that he was old anyway. Thank goodness, they’d say, that it wasn’t the young family down the road. But to me, all life is precious. Old or young, it’s all the same. No-one should die like this.

I was deciding on the safest and most dignified way to lift him up and take him out - the least I could do for him was to respect him in death as much as I would have if he were alive - when I heard her. A faint, distressed-sounding voice, coming from behind me. I whirled around, the flames licking around my feet and threatening to set my cape ablaze. In one corner stood an old, heavy wooden wardrobe - the sound seemed to be coming from there. I strode through the flames and snatched open the door.

She was cowering on the floor, a quivering ball of black and white fur pressed tightly into the furthest corner of the wardrobe. I bent to pick her up and she flinched. Terrified that she would bolt away from me and into the fire, I snatched her up at superspeed, ignoring her loud protestations and wrapping her in my cape to help protect her from the fire. Then I turned to the old man and wrapped him in those pieces of blanket which hadn’t yet been consumed by fire - not easy when you’re holding a wriggling, terrified cat under one arm. I lifted him as gently as I could, and the three of us made our way out of the fire and into the cool of the night.

I delivered the old man to the waiting paramedics and then released her to a more comfortable position in my arms. She mewed and seemed to reach out a paw to him. I knew then that we shared a common sense of loss. I, because I should have been there in time for him, and she, because he was her dear companion and carer.

No-one seemed to think the old man had any family and none of his neighbours wanted to take her in, so I told people she’d be with my friend, Clark Kent, until he was able to take her to the pound.

She was still shivering when I got her home. In fact, both of us were shaky. I couldn’t get the image of that old man lying dead in his bed out of my head. It was such a waste. All those precious memories were gone for ever. No matter whether he’d been a lively contributor to the community or a wizened recluse, he’d been a person with a life story to tell, someone who must have touched people’s lives throughout his long years on this earth.

So lonely, too, to die alone, and in such dreadful circumstances. He must have been terrified.

However, his cat needed food and water, and I was forced to pull myself together for her sake. I put aside the guilt that always comes after a needless death and turned myself to her needs. To this day, I’m not sure I would have survived the rest of the night without her.

The following day, she was better. She still shied away from me and seemed lost and confused, but she no longer trembled with fright. I’d planned to take her to the pound on my way to work, but it seemed heartless to abandon her in the state she was in. I decided to keep her for a little while longer.

That was nearly three weeks ago, and she’s still here. No-one has claimed her, and with each passing day, I’ve grown more and more attached to her. Luckily, I can fly home from work in seconds, so I’m able to keep any eye on her – something I did a lot in the early days. It seemed important to give her the best care I could, you see. It was the least I could do for the old man who died waiting for Superman to rescue him.

She’s asleep now, as I expected. I rest my head back on the cushions, more at peace with myself than I’ve felt in a long time. I think maybe I’m ready to visit my parents now. I’ll take her with me. If I fly slowly enough she should be okay, and I think she’ll enjoy the farm.

***************

Clark’s been subdued for the past couple of weeks. He’s my partner at work, and, I guess, also a good friend. So I’m getting a little worried about him. He says he’s run ragged looking after the cat that Superman left with him, but I think it’s more than that.

After all, he’s a farm boy. He should be used to dealing with animals, and anyway, surely all a cat needs is milk? Oh, and that disgusting stuff in tins. And I haven’t even dared ask him where it goes to relieve itself. I hope his apartment doesn’t smell. I haven’t visited since he went all native and started rearing animals in his living room.

Not that I can understand why he’s still got the wretched creature. Doesn’t he realise he’s living in a city now, not in some hayloft in Kansas? We city dwellers don’t do animal husbandry – we leave that to those simply country folk in places like Smallville. That cat belongs in the city pound.

Anyway, forget the cat. Back to Clark

More than once, I’ve caught him day-dreaming at work. At first, I made a joke of it – briskly told him to snap out of it and start pulling his weight in the partnership. That worked for a while, but he still had moments when he’d disappear someplace else in his head.

So then I got impatient with him. I mean, how are you supposed to produce incisive pieces of journalism when your partner’s never really there half the time? You ask him a question and he responds with a dopey look as if you just spoke to him in gibberish.

But whenever I yelled at him, he just apologised wanly. That’s not like Clark. Usually, he can give as good as he gets – he’s one of the few people in the newsroom who actually stands up to me. I’d never admit this to him, but that’s why I’ve put up with him as a partner for so long. Incredibly, I find myself respecting Clark Kent, the country bumpkin from Smallville.

Anyway, I’m now worried, like I said. I think something’s wrong, and it’s not just a poorly house-trained cat who’s tearing his furniture apart or weeing all over the carpet. This is something deeper than that.

So I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to make him tell me what’s wrong.

I stand up and go over to his desk. He’s apparently reading his screen, but I can tell from the glazed look in his eyes that he’s daydreaming again. I reach over and switch his screen off.

“Conference room,” I say. “Now.”

He blinks myopically up at me. “Huh?”

“I need to talk to you,” I say. “In private.”

He frowns. “Right now? I’m working on that gas leak story-“

“You hadn’t even noticed the screen-saver had kicked in,” I tell him. “That’s how focused on the gas leak story you were.”

“I’m not getting a lot of sleep,” he begins. “My cat-“

“Can’t possibly need all the attention you claim to give it,” I finish for him. “Conference room, now.”

He looks irritated, but I don’t care. I’ve made up my mind, and that’s that. I turn and make my way across the newsroom, knowing he’ll follow me however irritated he might be.

*****************

“Okay, let’s have it,” I demand as soon as he’s joined me in the conference room and the door is safely shut. “You’ve been moody and distracted for weeks now, and I want to know why. I can’t work with you like this.”

He stares at me. “What?”

“You heard me,” I retort. “Half the time we’re working together you’re someplace else. I mean, you’re here in person, but there’s no-one home up there.” I point at his head. ”Sometimes I have to repeat myself three times before you hear me.”

“And I guess that’s pretty inconvenient for you,” he says.

“Well, yes.” That was an odd thing he said, and I study him suspiciously for some hidden meaning in his words. “I may as well not have a partner at all, these past couple of weeks.”

“Really,” he says.

“Yes, really,” I reply.

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up,” he says. “I’ll get back to that story. See if I can focus a little more to your liking.”

He swivels on his feet and makes for the door.

Damn. I think I hurt his feelings. “Wait, Clark,” I call, intercepting him at the door. I put a hand on his arm. “I’m worried about you,” I tell him.

“Could have fooled me,” he retorts.

“No, really,” I insist. “I can tell something’s eating you up inside. You don’t answer back at me any more.”

A corner of his mouth curled upwards. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes,” I say, pleased that I’ve raised at least half a smile from him. “What’s wrong, Clark? Has something happened at home? Are your parents okay?”

He sighs. “They’re fine.” He steps back into the room and closes the door. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” he insists.

That lame excuse again. “I don’t believe any cat can need that much looking after,” I say, careful to keep the heat out of my voice this time. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“I...” He looks like he’s about to give me another lame excuse, but I show him I’m not prepared to listen to any more stories about his darned cat by shaking my head slowly. He gets the message. “You’re right, something did happen,” he confesses at last. “But I’m pretty much over it now.”

“What was it?” I ask softly. My hand seems to have landed on his arm again.

He shrugs. One of those single-shouldered shrugs he sometimes does. “Just one of those sad things that happens in a city. Well, it could happen anywhere, I guess.”

“What could happen?” I ask.

He shrugs again.

“You don’t want to tell me, do you?” I’m just a little hurt that he doesn’t want to share his problems with me. I mean, if he’s not going to share them with me, his partner, who is he going to share them with? The darned cat?

“No,” he replies. “I appreciate you asking, but, well, I’d just rather put it all behind me. Sorry.”

“Oh.” So much for trying to help your work colleagues. Maybe I won’t bother next time.

“Look,” he says, “I’m sorry if I’ve been hard to work with lately. Maybe I can make it up to you.”

“It’s okay, Clark,” I reply. “We all have our ups and downs. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”

“How about dinner?” he asks. “It’s about time you met my cat.”

I try to keep the instant revulsion off my face. Me, meet a cat? He has to be kidding. “Oh, it’s your cat, now, is it?” I reply, neatly, in my opinion, side-stepping the question. “I thought it was that old man’s cat.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes. Sadness, maybe? “She was, but she seems to have adopted me now.”

“Well, I’m very happy for you both,” I say. “I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

“Oh, come on, Lois,” he says. “You’ll like her, I’m sure. She’s a lot like you.”

He’s got something else in his eyes now. It looks suspiciously like a twinkle. “Then we’ll probably hate each other,” I point out.

The twinkle develops into a full-blown grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of her!” he exclaims. “Lois Lane, intrepid investigator, is frightened of a small furry animal?”

“Of course not,” I reply. “I just wouldn’t want to upset her.”

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” he replies. “But will you? I guess a cat’s claws can be pretty daunting.”

He’s trying to wind me up. And, dammit, he’s succeeding. “I’ll have you know I’ve faced off some pretty ferocious guard dogs in my time,” I retort.

“Then a small black and white cat will be no problem,” he says. “I’ll see you at seven.

*******************

She’s sitting on her favourite spot on my sofa. It used to be my favourite spot too until she took it over. Now I sit at the other end.

The doorbell rings.

“Be nice,” I tell her. “Lois is a good friend.”

She licks her paw disinterestedly but I know she’s listening really.

“Okay. Do I look all right?” I ask her.

She licks her other paw.

“Fine,” I reply. “Remember what I said about being on your best behaviour.”

I leave her to contemplate that and open the door to Lois. She peers around me. “Hi,” she says. “I’m here.” She’s still peering either side of me.

“I can see that.” I nod at the wine bottle she’s clutching. “Is that for me?”

“Oh!” she replies, looking at it as if she’s only just noticed she’s holding it. “Yes.” She thrusts it towards me.

“Thank you,” I say, studying the label while stepping aside to let her in. “Come on in.”

Lois steps hesitantly across the threshold.

“I hope those aren’t your best jeans,” I remark, stepping down into the living room. “Black’s her favourite colour.”

“Oh?” says Lois. “Why should that matter?”

“Well, she’ll probably want to sit on you,” I explain. “And since she’s a black and white cat, you might find you get a few hairs...”

“Sit on me?” repeats Lois, clearly aghast at the prospect.

“Yeah. But don’t worry, the vet trimmed her claws last week, so she’s quite safe.”

I place the bottle on the table and cross to the sofa. Lois is now hovering in the middle of the room, staring fixedly at the cat.

“Lucy, meet Lois,” I say to the cat. “Lois, meet Lucy.”

“You named your cat after my sister?” Lois exclaims.

I shrug. “I told you, she’s a lot like you, but I thought you’d object if I named her Lois.” I pick Lucy up – she’s clearly feeling pretty mellow because she doesn’t complain like she sometimes does – and take her across to my nervous guest. “Here, say hello.”

Lois looks warily at Lucy. “Nice kitty,” she says. “Very nice kitty.”

“Would you like to stroke her?” I suggest. “She won’t mind.”

“Um...” Lois reaches out a cautious hand and runs it very lightly over Lucy’s back. “Hi, Clark’s cat.”

“See?” I say. “She likes you already.”

“How do you know?” Lois asks, stroking Lucy again a little more boldly. “She hasn’t done anything.”

I laugh. “Exactly.”

“Oh.” Lois withdraws her hand quickly.

“Want to hold her?”

“No, this is quite close enough, thank you,” says Lois.

I take pity on Lois and let Lucy down onto the carpet. She pads around our feet for a bit then rubs slowly up against Lois’s leg.

“What does that mean?” asks Lois.

“Well, either she wants to mate with you or she likes your jeans,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

Lois’s expression is a picture of appalled distaste. “Tell her I’m not her type.”

I laugh. “Come on, let’s sit. Would you like some wine?”

Lois nods vigorously and heads for the sofa. “Wine would be good.”

I open the bottle, pour a couple of glasses and take one over to her. She’s sitting warily eyeing Lucy, who’s padding around Lois’s feet and rubbing herself against Lois’s legs again.

“She seems very...friendly,” remarks Lois.

“Oh, she is,” I agree. “She hasn’t even complained that you’re sitting on her favourite seat,” I add mischievously.

“This is hers?” asks Lois, shifting nervously. “Maybe I should move...”

“No, don’t worry,” I tell her. “She’ll just sit on you instead of the sofa.”

“I see,” says Lois, now glued rigidly to the spot. “Are we eating soon?”

“Sure! Just let me put together the finishing touches...”

I head over to the kitchen, leaving Lois and Lucy to continue acquainting themselves with each other. I know I’m being mean to Lois, who clearly isn’t too comfortable around cats, but it’s hard to resist having a little fun at her expense for a change. I’m usually the one on the receiving end of her acerbic remarks and not-so-funny jokes.

When I return to announce dinner, Lois has a cat on her lap. In fact, Lucy looks really content sitting there, and her mottled coat goes great with Lois’s black jeans. Lois, surprisingly, doesn’t look too bad. She’s actually stroking Lucy, albeit rather gingerly.

“Dinner’s ready,” I say. “Want me to rescue you?”

Lois looks up. “She won’t mind? She’s only just settled.” She gives Lucy another stroke. “I think she wants to have a snooze.”

I smile. “You’re right, but our dinner awaits.” I bend down and lift Lucy from Lois’s lap. “Come on, Luce. You can sleep while we’re eating.” I give her a quick cuddle and set her down onto the carpet. She’ll settle back on the sofa once Lois is seated at the table.

****************

We’re drinking after-dinner coffee and Lucy is snoozing in my lap. The meal was a great success, especially the Belgian chocolate mousse I made for desert. Lois adored that, as I’d hoped. The conversation was good, too. I’m trying to keep this a light-hearted evening – just dinner between friends – and so far it seems to be working pretty well. Deep down, I wish it could be more than that, but I know Lois doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about her. I’m hoping to change that eventually, but it takes time, unfortunately.

“You seem to have grown really attached to her,” remarks Lois.

I look up from stroking Lucy. “I guess I have.”

“Why, Clark?” she asks. “I mean, I know you grew up on a farm, but you’ve never seemed that big on the whole pet deal. Is it because Superman left her with you?”

She’s close enough to the truth for me to nod. “Kind of. He felt bad that he hadn’t been able to save her owner.”

I hadn’t meant for that to slip out, but now that it had, it sort of hung there in the air between us.

“But that’s...that’s...I mean, he does so much,” says Lois eventually. “He can’t be expected to rescue absolutely everyone who’s in trouble.”

I nod. “He knows that, but it doesn’t stop him wishing he could.” I’m stroking Lucy again and she’s purring like a well-tuned engine.

“Then he’s almost as much of a lunkhead as you are,” Lois states crisply. “You can tell him that the next time you see him.”

“I will.” She’s right, of course. I can’t be everywhere at the same time. But I’d still give anything for that old man to be stroking Lucy instead of me.

“Honestly, you and Superman. You could almost be twins.”

“Huh?” I do a quick mental inventory. Yup, glasses still in place. Hair not slicked back.

“Well, when one of you is depressed, so is the other,” she says. “It’s like you mirror each other’s moods.”

“Weird co-incidence, I guess,” I say quickly. “Never noticed it before myself. Say, how about some more coffee? I think there’s enough for another cup.”

“No, thanks,” she replies. “Actually, I should be going.”

“But it’s still early!” I protest.

“Not that early,” she says, “and it’s been a long day. I’m tired.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” I say, disappointed she’s not staying longer.

She stands up. “Thanks for dinner, Clark. I really enjoyed this evening.”

“No problem,” I reply, following her to the door with Lucy still in my arms. “I enjoyed your company.”

She opens the door and seems to hesitate. Turns to me. Looks up at me thoughtfully. “Put down the cat, Clark.”

Huh? I frown at her.

“Put her down,” Lois repeats.

Puzzled, I set Lucy down. She lets out a mew of protest at being abandoned and goes off to sulk. I’m going to get ignored later, I can tell.

As I straighten up, Lois catches my face between her hands and plants a light kiss on my lips. “Thanks for introducing me to Lucy,” she murmurs.

I’m so surprised I don’t know what to say. I’d like to kiss her back – fervently, passionately and longingly, I’d like to kiss her – but the timing feels wrong. I stare deep into her dark brown eyes, searching for the emotions I need to read just right. I don’t want to blow this moment.

“You can kiss me back if you like,” she says.

I don’t hesitate. Her lips are soft and warm against mine. I hold myself back as best I can, not wanting to overwhelm her with my feelings. Just a light, gentle kiss, with hopefully a promise of more to come.

“Mmm,” she murmurs when we pull apart. “That was nice. You can do that again sometime.” She steps through the door. “Night, Clark.”

“Night, Lois. See you tomorrow at work.”

“Yeah. Night, Lucy,” she calls.

*****************

I have no idea why I kissed him. No idea at all. I mean, I didn’t plan to kiss him. We’re friends, not lovers.

Maybe I was just feeling sorry for him. Sitting there, stroking his cat and still looking a little sad. Telling me that his friend, Superman, was also feeling bad. Yeah, that was it. A sympathy kiss.

Phew. For a moment there, I thought maybe I was falling for him.

Oh, god. Did I really tell him he could kiss me again?

*************

“Well, Lucy, all things considered, I think that went pretty well.”

She’s stretched out on the other side of the room, studiously studying the carpet. She’ll come back here when she thinks she’s stayed over there long enough to make her point.

“Thanks for being nice to Lois,” I say.

You can almost hear her mutter “Whatever.”

Maybe she’s jealous. It was only the briefest of kisses, but I guess she’s not used to sharing me with another woman.

I smile, liking the sound of that in my head. Me and Lois. Me and Lucy. Me and Lois and Lucy.

Yeah, that works.

And maybe – just maybe – the old man would also approve of his cat’s new friend.

She’s stirring. Standing up and padding quietly across the carpet. Stopping in front of me and studying the distance to my lap like an athlete preparing for the high jump.

One graceful spring of her hind legs and she’s settling on my legs, a warm, comforting bundle of life.

“Thanks for this,” I tell the old man who died waiting for Superman. “I never knew how much I needed her until she came into my life.”


THE END

Still Life with Python

-----------------------------

"I'm telling you, this parrot is DEAD!" Lois fumed at the clerk behind the counter. Why did he have to make things so difficult? Why couldn't he just give her money back and be done with it?

"It's not dead," the clerk insisted. "It's just asleep. Parrots always look like that when they sleep."

"ASLEEP?!" Lois glared. When the clerk maintained that this was the case, she snorted. "All right then, if he's asleep, let's wake him up!" She shook the cage violently, causing its contents to rattle and bang against the bars.

"Hello! Wake up! Wake up, Polly! Rise and Shine!" When the deceased parrot did not respond, Lois opened the cage door, removed the bird's carcass, and slammed it onto the counter. "SEE?! I told you; the parrot is DEAD!"

"No he's not."

Lois was about to explode! The only thing that saved the clerk from having a birdcage shoved up his----nose----was the arrival of a certain blue-tighted demigod.

"Is everything okay in here?"

"Superman!" They both spoke in unison.

Superman stepped over the threshold of the pet shop, his red cape flowing majestically behind him. He walked over to Lois and looked at her, the parrot, and the clerk. He quirked an eyebrow. "I was flying overhead and heard a commotion. Does anyone care to explain what's going on?"

Lois flushed. "Oh, it was nothing, Superman, I was just..." She trailed off, her girlish, giddy smile fading, replaced by the scowl of earlier. "No, actually, it *wasn't* nothing; this guy is trying to cheat me! I bought a parrot here because my sister was over at my apartment last week and she accidentally spilled her soda in the fish tank, so all my fish died, and she gave me a coupon for this place---half-off any parrot and cage---to make up for it. Although, frankly, I don't think this makes up for it at all; I was really attached to those fish! There was this one cute one that would always blow bubbles when I----" Superman stood there smiling at her, and the clerk stared at
her as though she belonged in an insane asylum. Lois cleared her throat.

"Anyway, the parrot died an hour after I got it, and this creep won't give me my money back!"

Superman turned to face the clerk. "Is this true?"

The clerk shrunk under Superman's gaze and cowered behind the counter like a frightened little mouse. "Well, sir---um---if the lady is not satisfied, we at Fred and Ozzie's Little Critters will gladly refund her money and give her any pet in the store---free of charge!"

Lois folded her arms. "Now that's more like it!"

The clerk opened the drawer of the register and counted out the proper amount of money, which he then set on the counter. Lois snatched it up and counted it again. When she was finally assured that the clerk had given her the correct amount, she snorted and stuffed the money into her purse.

"So, Miss, what pet would you like?"

What pet indeed? With so many adorable creatures around her, practically *begging* to be taken home (and in the dogs' case, they were), Lois suddenly found it hard to choose! What would be the ideal pet for Lois Lane? "Well, let me see what you got."

The clerk rose from the counter and led her to the back of the shop with an intrigued Superman tagging along behind. All along the back wall were rows and rows of aquariums populated by schools of happy little fish. "Since you seem to be so fond of fish, perhaps you'd like one of these cute little fellows?"

Lois pondered the myriad of colorful sharks, guppies, neons, and tetras. A small goldfish in the corner of the tank caught her eye. "That one's pretty cute. I'll take him."

" 'Kay, I'll get him for you." The clerk reached for the net, but upon seeing him raise his arm, the fish made a mad dash for the nearest hiding place.

"That's amazing!" Lois gaped at the tank wide-eyed. "He knew you were going to try to get him!"

"There's no way!" said the clerk, scratching his head.

Superman shrugged. "Well, I guess it just goes to show that no one really knows just what a fish knows."

"Or what a fish sees," Lois turned towards the little black cat that had just come padding up, curious to know who these strangers were.

"Now how did you get loose?"

It was such a cute little cat; its eyes were like two bright emeralds that stood out against its ebony fur. It licked one paw and dragged it across its ears, as though it wanted to look its best before meeting a lady. It looked from Lois, to Superman, then back to Lois again, then settled at Lois' feet and began purring.

"Aw...." Lois allowed a little squeal to escape her as she bent down to pet the kitty. As soon as her fingers brushed against the soft fur, the cat leapt up and tried to scratch her. "Sheesh! It's cute and harmless, until you get up close! Then it's a killer!"

Superman mumbled something about Lex Luthor.

The clerk scooped up the cat and returned it to his cage. "Sorry about that. You want the goldfish, right?"

Lois shook her head. "I changed my mind. I don't think I want anymore fish; not for a while, anyway." At least not until Lucy gave up drinking soda. Besides, Lois thought, fish were pretty boring; all they did was eat, sleep, and swim. Maybe she should get something a bit more interesting, maybe something cuddly. A gerbil might be nice...

The clerk led her and Superman to the section where the rodents were kept. Most of them were gone, but one specimen remained, running on its little wheel as fast as it could, as though it actually thought it might go somewhere. Lois eyed the creature with great curiosity. "Is that a rat?"

"Yes, Ma'am." The clerk replied, "A lab rat, actually."

Superman arched an eyebrow. "What's a lab rat doing in a pet shop?"

"Well," said the clerk, "some of our pets are, in fact, second hand. This particular rat was once part of a STAR Labs experiment to see if rats could type. From what I hear, she performed amazingly well at this task, but then one day she just stopped doing it. No one knows why. They couldn't use her in their project anymore, and Dr. Klein didn't have the heart to put her to sleep or anything like that, so she ended up here."

Lois wagged her finger at the rodent. "That's what you get for lying down on the job!"

They browsed the rest of the aisle, looking at various snakes, lizards, and reptiles, none of which Lois wanted. The dogs were too slobbery; the cats, too stuck up; the pig---too...Canadian. After considering and ruling out practically every pet in the store, Lois found herself being led to the bird section.

The bird section was a cacophony of squawks and tweets as cockatoos, canaries, and finches conversed and argued with each other through the bars of their cages. Doves, cockatiels, and Macaws all shouted and cried for the visitors' attention. Lois rapidly became enchanted by the beautiful plumage of the various fowl. As she let her eyes wander from cage to cage and perch to perch, she was quite dumbstruck to see a *pelican* sitting atop an artificial ficus.

Superman voiced her astonishment, and the clerk explained to him (and indirectly to her) that this was a special breed of domesticated pelican imported from Norway, very rare, very valuable, and very unusual.

"Hello, Sheila. G'day, Mate."

Lois whirled around, wondering who had spoke. A beautiful, brightly colored Macaw parrot sat on the roof of its cage watching her and Superman.

Superman smiled and walked up to the bird. "Well, hello there!"

"G'day, Mate. G'day, Mate."

Lois turned to the clerk. "Is this another second-hand pet?"

The clerk nodded. "Yep. Got him from a guy who moved to Metropolis from Sydney and couldn't keep him in his new, small apartment."

"Hello, Sheila. Hello, Sheila."

Superman grinned. "He's saying hello to you, Lois. Come on over here and talk to him!"

Lois smiled. Well, why not? She'd spoken to interviewees with less intelligence. She walked up to the cage and looked at the squawker perched on top of it. "Well hello, there. Who are you?"

"I'm Marvel-boy, Sheila. I'm Marvel-boy, Sheila."

"Hey!" said Lois, "He actually answered my question!"

"If you're interested in talkers," said the clerk, "I have a cockatoo here that---"

Marvel-boy squawked. "Ah, shut your trap you little bugger!"

The clerk's mouth shut with an audible clap. Lois found herself giggling uncontrollably. This parrot was not bad, not bad at all! Where was he when she'd come in earlier? His feathers were absolutely gorgeous! And unlike the first one she'd bought, this one was a real talker, and clever to boot! "I'll take him."

Moments later, Lois and Superman walked out of Fred and Ozzie's Little Critters with Lois happily toting Marvel-boy's cage. Superman smiled at her. "You sure seem happy with your new parrot, Lois."

Lois nodded. "Oh, yes. In fact, this could work out quite wonderfully!" A mischievous smile slowly spread across her face.

"Um, what do you mean?"

"Just think," Lois grinned. "Now I can get Clark to baby sit Marvel-boy and find out if he's been keeping any juicy secrets from me!"

Superman shot her a look of alarm.

"Oh, don't worry, Superman. I wouldn't *really* use a parrot to spy on my friends."

"I should hope not!"

"That's what the surveillance equipment is for."

The look of shock on Superman's face was priceless! Lois tried her best to keep from giggling. Boy, she wished she had a camera! Where was Jimmy when you needed him? At last, she simply couldn't contain herself and she burst out
laughing.

Superman sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're something else, Lois." Just then, he cocked his head. Apparently, someone needed his help. He bid her goodbye and took off.

Lois waved after him, then continued home with her new pet. Once in her apartment, she set Marvel-boy's cage on the table and opened the little door. "Okay, Marvel-boy, what do you think of your new home?"

Marvel-boy didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even move at all.

Lois took Marvel-boy out of the cage and inspected him. "Hey, this parrot is dead!"


The End.