Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lois groaned as the Daily Planet delivery truck next to her bed began to back up, emitting an effective yet horribly obnoxious tone to warn those in its path. Through bleary eyes, she noticed that the familiar globe that usually identified the paper's trucks had been replaced by The Quality Bar's logo on one side, and Jerry Maxwell's smiling face on the other. Her sister Lucy was driving.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Lois, get out of the way!" her sister shouted as the truck rolled over Lois's prone body. "It's my birthday and you're blocking me. Come on, let's have some fun!"
Lois coughed from the exhaust fumes -- being under the truck was making her head pound, her eyes feel dry and gritty, and her mouth feel like it was filled with cotton.. "I know how to have fun," she protested, annoyed, as she tried to push against the tire. "Now get this truck off me and turn off that awful sound! It's giving me a terrible headache."
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Lucy, I mean it!"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"I'm tellin' Mom!"
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
As the sound of her alarm clock finally began to insinuate itself into Lois's subconscious, she became more aware of her surroundings and the image of the truck began to fade. Unfortunately, the feelings that had accompanied the dream did not. Slowly, she cracked one eye open, surveying her surroundings through the tiny slit. She appeared to be in her own bedroom, though for some reason, everything looked slightly different this morning. Lois groaned again, bringing an arm up to cover her eyes. The truck may have just been a dream, but she certainly felt as if she'd been run over by one.
The obnoxious beeping continued until Lois couldn't take it anymore and she finally sat up to make it stop. She quickly realized that doing so was a big mistake, however. The world spun around her, and Lois quickly flopped back to the bed, clutching desperately at the mattress. Her stomach roiled in protest over the sudden motions and she squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating everything she had on not getting sick.
When her stomach had finally calmed, Lois opened her eyes again -- more tentatively this time -- and surveyed her surroundings. At first, she thought all the furniture in her room had been moved, but eventually she realized that it was her who had been rearranged. Somehow she had wound up sprawled upside down on the bed, her head towards the bottom. With a whimper, Lois slowly crawled back to the head of the bed to switch off the alarm clock.
As she touched the off button, the silence soothed her nerves, and Lois sighed in relief, collapsing gratefully into her pillow. Maybe she could just stay here for a little while ... go back to sleep ... no one at work would have to know. Yes ... this felt better ... just a few more minutes ...
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Argh! Snooze control!
This time, her arm flailed out immediately to stop the incessant noise, hitting its mark the first time now that she was back into her normal sleeping position. But the action brought another fact to her attention. Looking down at herself in amazement, Lois confirmed that she was wearing nothing but her underwear. What in the world had happened to her pajamas? A glance to the floor beside the bed revealed nothing but the crumpled outfit she'd worn out last night.
As she stared at the outfit, snippets of the night before began pricking at the edges of her brain. She remembered talking to Lucy on the phone and her younger sister dictating what she should wear to the bar. Then she'd met Lucy's new boyfriend, and the man had fixed them a drink. Come to think of it, he had fixed them a couple of drinks ...
Lois shook her head. The rest of the night was still a blur. She wasn't exactly sure how she had arrived back to her apartment, but it was pretty clear that once she'd made it this far, she hadn't bothered with the niceties of putting on pajamas.
She apparently hadn't bothered to brush her teeth or wash her face either, she soon realized as the grungy feeling finally made itself known. Sitting up -- more carefully this time -- she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and released a sound of displeasure. First order of business was brushing her teeth ...though a long shower was coming in a close second.
A little over an hour later, however, Lois was still whimpering as she stumbled through the rest of her morning routine. Not only had the hot shower done little to revive her, but everything seemed to be taking three times as long ... dressing, putting on her make-up, even drying her hair. And since when had her hair-dryer gotten so loud, anyway? She was beginning to wonder how she was going to make it through the rest of the day.
Had it really been this bad in the past? It had been ages since her college drinking days and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this hungover, if she ever had. Just how much had she had to drink, anyway?
Rubbing her temples, Lois made her way into the kitchen. If her stupid head would stop pounding long enough, maybe she could concentrate on actually remembering what had happened last night. She certainly hoped she hadn't driven herself home ... she knew better than that, and would have surely taken a cab. Maybe Lucy ... no, Lucy had been drinking just as much as she had ...
Suddenly the image of Clark driving her Jeep popped into her head. Clark? Had he driven her home?
Lois focused on her partner, trying to remember how he fit into the picture. Had she called him? Or maybe she'd just talked to Lucy *about* him? No, wait ... there was music ... she'd danced with him, hadn't she? So he had definitely been there. But why had Clark been at the bar with them in the first place? That made no sense at all.
With a puzzled shake of her head, Lois opened the counter over her kitchen sink, looking for the bottle of aspirin that she used to keep there. The incessant pounding in her temples and sinuses refused to stop, and the pain was threatening to make her sick to her stomach again. Her relief at finding the medicine just where she'd remembered it was short-lived, however, when, after almost screaming in frustration as she wrestled with the childproof cap, she finally got the bottle open only to discover it was empty.
Biting back a curse, Lois desperately hunted her cabinets for another bottle of pain reliever, then brightened hopefully as she pulled out a small white bottle near the back. Studying the label, she furrowed her brow, momentarily uncertain, then gave a mental shrug. The PMS medicine boasted relief from pain, bloating, nausea and irritability. That pretty well summed up how she was feeling!
Two tablets went down quickly with a large glass of water, but instead of returning the bottle to her cabinet, Lois slipped it into the pocket of her dress pants. Somehow she had a feeling that a single dose wasn't going to do it today.
Force of habit took her through the motions of making coffee, but the moment she opened the can and began to scoop the grounds, Lois realized what a bad idea that was. The smell alone put her stomach into revolt. She gave in quickly, recovering the can, but as she glanced around the kitchen, Lois's brow furrowed in confusion. Her package of bread was out on the counter, the wrapping left open, and a small container of peanut butter sat next to it, a used knife resting sideways over the lid. When in the world had she gotten the peanut butter out? And just as confusing, *why* had she gotten the peanut butter out? It wasn't something she usually ate ... in fact, she'd purchased that jar months ago on a whim and it had sat, unopened and untouched, since then.
A sudden memory of Clark making sandwiches at her kitchen counter, his black sleeves rolled half-way up his arms, entered into her mind, and Lois slumped back against the sink, stunned. Clark was here last night? In her apartment? He hadn't just dropped her at the door?
Wait ... she was starting to remember now. Somehow Clark had been at the bar with them and they'd danced ... and then he had brought her home and come inside. Lois raised an eyebrow. And apparently had made her a peanut butter sandwich, though for the life of her, she still couldn't figure out why. No less confused than she'd been before, Lois put the jar back in the cupboard and the knife in the sink, absently sucking off a small dab of peanut butter that had gotten on her thumb ... and was instantly struck by another case of deja-vu.
She quickly turned to look at her table, eyes wide.
Clark. Peanut butter. The table. She'd been sitting on his lap. His mouth ... her thumb ... the look in his eyes ...
Ohmigod!
With a loud gasp, Lois turned to face her doorway as the memories came flooding back. Clark had tried to leave. She'd followed him to the door ... had stood very close to him ...
Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered being pinned against the wall, trapped by Clark muscular body. Her heart began to beat wildly as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers, the tip of his tongue--
Ohmigod!
Is that how she'd ended up in her underwear???
Lois took a few gulping breaths, trying to calm down. No ... no, Clark didn't stay. He'd walked out the door ... practically bolted, in fact, after saying something ... something ... no, it was still out of reach. What had he said? For some reason, she knew it was important but she still couldn't quite grasp it ... but she hadn't wanted him to go, that much she remembered.
She'd been sad to see him go ... keenly disappointed. She'd locked the door behind him, sighed wistfully, and come back into the living room, wishing she could talk to him again ...
Lois's eyes opened still wider as she whipped her head around, fighting off the dizzy feeling her protesting body gave her as her gaze settling on the laptop computer on her coffee table.
No ... she didn't ... she couldn't ...
Ignoring the pounding in her head, Lois rushed to the couch and grabbed the computer, pulling it into her lap as she sat down. With shaking hands, she called up her email program.
She couldn't ... she wouldn't ...
She clicked past her in-box to her sent-mail folder ...
Please, God, no. I'll do anything ...
... and opened the index.
Her stomach dropped.
She didn't, she couldn't, she wouldn't ...
But she had.
_________________
To: ClarkKent@dailyplanet.com
From: LoisLane@dailyplanet.com
Date: Friday, 21 October 1994, 02:42
Subject: waht you misssed
Daer Lark,
Iam ritng you this mail becuase youare gone awy. y9oui shouldnolt have gone. Iwant you hear. We arehaveing much fun at the abar. I want morefun withy yui. youia re looking verty good in black. Imso glad you wroe the lblakc. I dont know why yuo went awy. We wer have fun. If youare here we cound have more ufn. I amelonving you lots. You arewonederful. weare sogood together. Whd dont yo9u want to love me? we could have a goodnight bt u you wnt away. I wanted to love with you. we arelove. is good. isbadto goaway. you do love me? we had a good kiss. so yes love? Comedback rightnow. If you cme back we cold have good night togehte. hapily ever after, if you arehere. yay! comeback qyuick!!
love
lois
*****
Lois exited the elevator into the newsroom, more than a little afraid of what she might find when she got there. Images of her email being passed around to everyone in the newsroom, holding her up as the target of ridicule, kept flickering through her mind, and making her want to turn around and head back to bed. She didn't really think Clark would do such a thing -- after all, he was her best friend and if he'd really wanted to take advantage of her condition, he'd had more than ample opportunity last night -- but even the idea that he might read it himself was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.
As if it wasn't bad enough that she'd kept throwing herself at him at the bar -- the little blue cup of 'takeout water' that greeted her in her Jeep this morning had brought back even more memories -- now Clark would have physical proof of how out of control Lois Lane had been!
Walking through the bullpen, Lois warily approached Clark's desk, then stopped right in the middle of the aisle to stare, amazed. Clark's desk, like her own, looked as if it hadn't been occupied yet that morning. After vaguely wondering if Clark had gotten drunk last night, too, Lois allowed herself to get excited. If Clark wasn't at work today, maybe there was hope of getting her email back, after all! He never even had to know it was there!
Crossing the short distance to her own desk, Lois set her purse down, then winced and rubbed her temples. Correction -- she could retrieve the email assuming she got through what was left of the morning without killing herself first. And to do that, she'd need a little chemical assistance.
Digging some change out of her purse, Lois cautiously approached the vending area at the top of the ramp, making a wide berth around the coffee pot. Usually coffee was her drug of choice, but after this morning's encounter with the brew, she wasn't taking any chances. Dropping her quarters into the change slot of the soda machine, Lois reaching on instinct for the Diet Coke button, but as another wave of exhaustion washed over her, she rethought her decision and went for the real stuff instead. Caffeine alone wasn't going to do it this morning ... she was in serious need of caffeine *and* sugar.
Sipping the beverage gingerly, Lois walked back to her desk, trying to resist the urge to run the cold can over her cheeks. Why in the world was the heat up so high in the newsroom? It felt like a furnace in here! When she stopped feeling like death warmed over, she was really going to have Perry talk to building maintenance about that.
"Hey, Lois, howya doin'?" a chipper voice intruded.
She looked up, wincing. "Jimmy, do you have to yell?"
The young man looked confused. "Yell? I didn't--"
She waved him off, rubbing her temples once again. Then she remembered her mission and glanced at Clark's desk, relieved to find it still dark and empty. "Do you know where Clark is?"
"He came in early this morning to meet with Perry," Jimmy responded, "then he took off again to follow some leads. We were here really late last night trying to get the goods on Congressman Gardner and--"
As Jimmy's words filtered into the small part of her brain that was still alert, Lois perked up dramatically. "So Clark's gone?" she interrupted, trying hard to keep the excitement out of her voice.
"Uh, yeah ..."
"And his computer is still off," she continued eagerly. "Does that mean he didn't check his email this morning?"
Jimmy faltered, clearly at a loss as to her line of questioning. "Not that I know of. He didn't sit at his desk at least. He just showed Perry the information, got his approval to run with the investigation and took off." He looked at her more closely. "Lois, are you OK? You're acting a little odd."
"Yes!" she exclaimed, only grimacing a little this time as she noticed the throbbing behind her eyes had begun to subside. "I'm fine, Jimmy, and even better now." She made her way over to Clark's desk and plopped herself down in his chair. "Now where's the power button on this thing ... ah, here it is." She turned the power switch to the 'on' position and took another drink of her cola while it booted up. This was going to be even easier than she had hoped -- she just needed to get into Clark's email, find the message and delete it. Piece of cake!
With a barely contained look of glee, Lois watched as the desktop screen came into view and she immediately launched Clark's email program. Like taking candy from a--
"Ack!" she gasped. "A password!" What in the world was Clark doing putting a password on his email?!
At her exclamation, Jimmy approached Clark's desk. "What's wrong?"
Lois looked up quickly, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Ah, nothing! Nothing at all. Just-- Jimmy, don't you have some work to do?"
Her attempt to distract him only increased his suspicion and he looked over her shoulder at the screen. "Are you trying to break into Clark's email?"
"No! Not ... really. I just ... sent him an email by accident and I'm trying to get it back, that's all. That's not breaking in. That's just ... getting back something of mine that he isn't supposed to have." She sat back, pleased with the logic of her reasoning. Even hung-over, she was the best.
Jimmy, however, simply leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. "What kind of email?" As Lois's eyes widened in panic, however, Jimmy began to chuckle. "Did you two have another fight?"
Lois jumped at the opening. "Yes! Yes, a fight ... a big, *terrible* fight. Last night. Very messy." She waved her hand in the air, as if the action would help the words come. "And I ... wrote him an email telling him off, but now I want it back because ... because ... it will hurt his feelings! Yes, that's it ... I don't want to hurt his feelings. You know how fragile Clark's ego is."
Jimmy raised an eyebrow, now even more suspicious than before. "Yeah, Clark's ego is so fragile," he replied sardonically.
Lois just scowled and pushed at his shoulder. "Oh, just ... go away. Even better, go watch the elevators, make sure Clark isn't coming. I have some thinking to do."
With a long-suffering sigh, Jimmy did as he was told, leaving Lois alone in her task.
Pulling the keyboard forward, Lois poised her fingers above it, wondering what kind of password Clark might choose. "Smallville," she typed confidently, then hit enter.
Lois furrowed her brow slightly as the "Incorrect Password" message flashed before her eyes. She chewed on her lip before trying again. "Kansas."
When she received the same response, her brow knitted more tightly. She looked worriedly at the screen as she began to type anything that sounded likely.
"Farmboy?"
No ...
"CornRules?"
"CowTipping?"
"Twinkies?"
No, no and triple no.
Lois took a deep breath, trying to stop the desperation that was threatening to well up in the pit of her stomach.
"WildTies?"
"KnobTailedGeckos?"
"BottomBanana??"
Lois dropped her head into her hands. Why was this so hard?!
Taking another deep breath, Lois forced herself to think. People usually choose passwords that are important to them, right? After all, hers was "Superman" ...
Eyes widening, Lois entered her next attempt, almost afraid to see the results ...
"LoisLane."
And just like that, she was in.
Lois stared at the screen for a moment, amazed that she had actually figured out the correct password, but it wasn't long before she remembered what she was trying to do so. She could ponder the ramifications of Clark's password choice later -- right now she had an email to delete!
It didn't take Lois more than a moment to find Clark's in-box, but as she retrieved his mail, she blanched again. "No new messages? What do you mean, no new messages?!" she exclaimed. Lois's head shot up and she fixed her eyes on Jimmy, who had stopped in the middle of the aisle and was watching her warily.
"What?" he asked nervously.
"Oh, just get over here." When he sighed and walked around to her side of the desk, she pointed accusingly at Clark's empty in-box. "You said he hadn't checked his mail this morning ... where's my message?" she demanded.
With a slight roll of his eyes, Jimmy grabbed the mouse and began opening Clark's folders one by one. "Maybe it got filtered already," he suggested. "What's it called?"
"None of your business," Lois answered quickly, then blushed as her voice came out in a worried squeak. "Wait!" she suddenly exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "That's it!"
Jimmy began chuckling. ""Waht you misssed"? Nice typing, Lois ... you must have been really furious or something."
"Or something," she mumbled.
"Well, it looks like he's already read it," Jimmy said apologetically. "This one isn't a filter folder; it's a saved message folder. I don't know whether it hurt his feelings or not, but he obviously wanted to keep it."
"But-- But-- But you said he hadn't checked his email this morning!" Lois practically wailed.
Jimmy shrugged. "He didn't need to. Remember I told you he and I were working late last night? I emailed him the information he wanted at two in the morning and he replied from home at three. Your message was sent at two-forty-five. He didn't need to read it this morning -- he'd already read it last night."
Lois dropped her head onto the desk. Maybe if she waited long enough, someone would tell her that this was all a bad dream.
*****
At a little after one-thirty in the afternoon, Clark walked down the ramp into the newsroom, uncertain as to what kind of reception he was going to get. He had flown over Lois's apartment on his way back from his lunch interview only to find it empty, and the fact that her Jeep was sitting in the Daily Planet's parking garage confirmed that she had made it in just fine. But he couldn't deny that he was more than a little nervous about what she might have to say to him. And what in the world was he going to say to her?
The time he'd spent with Lois last night had been torture, but torture so sweet that he'd gladly go back for more. He still wasn't sure which he was more shocked over, that he'd finally kissed her or that it had taken him so long to snap before he'd done so. It had been, simply speaking, the most amazing kiss of his entire life. It was raw and passionate and filled with promise ... and now all he could hope for was that Lois would feel the same way. If not -- if she had woken up this morning disgusted by her behavior and completely appalled by his -- then instead of last night being the first day of their burgeoning romance, it could end up marking the last day of their close friendship.
Clark sighed. He'd hardly slept a wink last night, despite all his attempts to get Lois out of his system. The only thing that had helped distract him at all had been the fact that Jimmy had emailed him the information he'd needed to justify his investigation. Unfortunately, Jimmy hadn't been the only one who'd emailed him ... and instead of getting a head-start on his story, he had only been able to read Lois's message over and over. It had taken several laps in the Arctic Ocean before the less rational part of his body stopped demanding he return to her apartment to finish what they'd started.
Setting his files down on his desk, Clark furrowed his brow as he noticed his screen saver dancing across his computer screen. Wow, he must have really been distracted this morning -- he didn't even remember turning it on.
Glancing over at Lois's desk, he watched for a moment as she sat, eyes closed, rubbing her temples. She clearly hadn't noticed his entrance, and, for a brief moment, he flirted with the possibility of leaving as silently as he'd arrived. But he knew he'd have to deal with this eventually, so after taking a deep breath, he forced himself to face the music. "Um, Lois?" he asked tentatively, approaching her desk. "Are you-- How are you feeling?"
A groan was his only response.
"That bad, huh?"
"No ... worse."
He looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head slightly then winced from the effort. "Not your fault. My sister's fault. I'm going to kill her."
Clark couldn't help but smile at her ironic tone. "Will there be drinks at the wake?"
Lois snorted at his comment, the sound something between a moan and a laugh, but this time, she looked up at him, clearly very embarrassed. "Were you really at the bar last night?" she asked.
Clark felt almost guilty answering. "Yeah ... you called me and asked me to come."
She nodded. "I vaguely remember that." She met his eye again. "And you drove me home?"
He, too, gave a nod. "Yes."
"I vaguely remember that, too," she replied. This time she didn't meet his gaze, and Clark noticed a pink blush rising in her cheeks. "And something about a ... peanut butter and jelly sandwich?"
"I didn't think you'd eaten," he explained apologetically, flushing himself. "I was trying to--"
"Sober me up," she finished with a sigh. "Yeah, I vaguely remember that, too."
Clark swallowed, watching her carefully. "And then," he added, knowing that he couldn't avoid the inevitable, "I left."
Lois's blush deepened and her mouth opened, only to close again quickly. "I don't remember that!" she finally blurted out.
Clark blinked. "You don't?"
This time when she met his eyes, a bright smile was plastered on her face. "Nope!" she answered. "Nothing after the sandwich ... must have gone right to bed. I assume you showed yourself out?"
"Um ... yeah," he responded after a confused pause. "I guess I did."
Lois just looked relieved. "Good," she sighed. Then she shook her head. "Honestly, I can't even understand how I got so drunk in the first place. As far as I can recall, I only had a few drinks!"
"Well, yeah ... but two of them were Long Island Iced Teas," Clark pointed out. "At least according to what the bartender said."
She just looked at him, baffled. "But that's exactly what I mean! How could I get so drunk on something called iced tea?"
Clark raised an eyebrow at her question, then noticed Jimmy walking by. "Hey, Jimmy," he called out, waving the young man over to them. "Do you know what's in a Long Island Iced Tea?"
Jimmy shrugged. "Sure, CK ... rum, gin, vodka, triple sec ... sometimes a little tequila--"
Lois gave another groan. "Oh yeah, there was definitely tequila ..."
"All with a little Coke and sour mix to smooth it out," Jimmy continued brightly. Then he laughed. "I remember my friend Tom's girlfriend got really plastered on Long Islands on her 21st birthday ... Man, she was so wasted! She was calling all her friends, trying to get them to come to the bar--"
Clark watched as Lois's eyes grew wide. "Um, we got it, Jimmy," he interjected, shooting a quick glance to his clearly mortified partner.
"And she was all over Tom on the dance floor!"
"I said we got it, Jimmy," Clark interjected again.
"Heck, she was even trying to dance on the bar!"
"Jimmy! We got it!" Clark said a lot more loudly, finally cutting him off. Then he noticed Lois had buried her head in her hands. "Whoops, sorry, Lois. Didn't mean to shout."
"Don't worry about it," she mumbled through her hands.
As Jimmy walked away, Clark tried to change the subject. "Um, well ... I guess I should get back to my investigation," he said. "I really just came back for some notes that I left here ... I have a few more interviews to get to so I'll probably be gone for the rest of the day."
Lois looked more than a little relieved. "Oh, well ... you'd better get to that, then," she said, practically pushing him away from her desk. "I've got a lot to catch up on, too. You know me ... busy, busy!"
Clark gave her a little smile, but as he walked back to his desk to gather his papers, he couldn't help but furrow his brow in confusion. By all accounts, he knew he should be delighted by this turn of events -- he'd been so worried Lois was going to rip him apart for kissing her last night, but instead, she claimed not to even remember it. He was off the hook! He should be happy ... really, really happy ...
So why in the world was he feeling so disappointed?
*****
tbc and concluded in part 4.
