Title: Single (mother)
Summary: You're minding your own business at a pub. A suspiciously handsome stranger decides to approach you. You fall back on the classic "I have a son" excuse. It works, as always, and he walks away. Right? ...Right?
Author's note: I wasn't expecting much from this fic, I started writing it as a way to practice my third-person omniscient narration, which had gotten rusty. But in the end, I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy it too.
TOC***
Despite the cold autumn in Metropolis, that Thursday night the Foundry Pub was brimming with warmth of human company. A large group of drunk young adults was shouting towards the TV in the corner of the establishment, unusually excited about a replay of Canadian curling that no one was really understanding. A placid quartet of elderly men was playing checkers. A few couples were holding hands, ignoring everything around them. Teenagers were laughing uproariously. A trio of women was discussing the latest news from a fashion magazine. Two employees were trying to convince the pub's owner that it was too early to start the Christmas decoration. And there, three tables away from the door, the Lane sisters were celebrating Lois's latest breakup.
Unshaken, Lois would rather have celebrated with Chinese food and a chocolate dessert at home. Lucy, however, was so happy to be rid of her sister’s ex that she had insisted they go out.
"To Mitchell!" Lucy raised her beer in a toast.
Lois also raised her own beer. "May he go spread his germs elsewhere."
"Or may he get sick forever and never leave his house again!"
Lucy downed her glass practically in one gulp. Lois, meanwhile, was sipping her drink, thinking — not for the first time — that Mitchell must have been truly very dull to have managed to earn Lucy's dislike. After all, she had a tendency to like everyone, especially men, and especially men who wanted to date her older sister.
Lois wondered how she had managed to spend three months with that man if not even Lucy could stand him. It had been last Sunday that she had definitively decided it had been a waste of time, and on that same day she had ended everything over the phone before going to work. There was no reason to postpone something like that; besides, she thought she had even done him a favor by waking him up early. Mitchell was always complaining that he kept missing his antibiotic doses.
"Well, it's a relief. All that's left is for me to lament the hours I wasted on him when I could have been chasing another Kerth. I hope Perry and the ghosts of journalism forgive me."
"Oh, please." The younger Lane rolled her eyes. "It's not like you two spent long hours together. Most of your interactions were over the phone, when he would lock himself away with his imaginary colds, complain about everything, and say he couldn't go out."
"I think you're right. I'll ask for a boyfriend who isn't a hypochondriac for Christmas this year," commented Lois, looking confusedly at a pub employee carrying a three-foot-tall Santa Claus doll. (It was still September, but fashion in Metropolis regarding interior design was going through a fickle moment, as Cat Grant had written the previous week.) "That's after asking for another Kerth, five new pairs of heels, a year's supply of free Rocky Road, a massage chair, and a trip to Tahiti, of course," she added nonchalantly, and raised the almost-empty basket of fries for the passing waitress.
"Ah, no. You're not going to use the hypochondriac as an excuse to retreat to your private convent!"
"Private convent?"
"Yeah, the Daily Planet! I've told you a million times, but you do know you can't marry your job, right?"
"And you do know that someone who swaps boyfriends every two weeks is the last person who can give advice on marriage, right?"
Lois slowly chewed the last fry and raised an eyebrow. Lucy turned red with indignation, not because of the nature of the accusation, but because she had been defeated by her sister's argument — an expected feeling coming from a Lane.
"It's different! I'm conducting experiments, okay? There's no other way for me to know if it'll work out. It's an investment in the future!"
Rolling her eyes, Lois got up to go to the bathroom, leaving her sister talking to herself. As far as she was concerned, Perry White's speech when he banned her from setting foot in the newsroom for three days had been more than enough. Earlier that same Thursday, he had stated categorically that she was addicted to work and had given her Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off. An entire weekend of stories wasted while Ralph would still be there, doing his usual half-baked job and getting chewed out by Perry.
These editors don't know what they want, she reflected.
If we try too little, they complain. If we try too hard, they complain too. Will they ever be satisfied?Now Clark Kent, who had just entered the Foundry Pub, hoped that Perry White would be satisfied enough with him the following morning, when he would have his job interview at the Daily Planet. Otherwise, not only would his greatest dreams be dashed, but he would also have gone through the awful experience of staying at the Apollo Hotel for nothing. Of course, he could fly straight from Smallville just minutes before the interview, but he needed Mr. White to have a landline number in Metropolis to contact him if he were hired. Not being lodged in the city could be interpreted by the editor as a sign that the candidate in question wasn't willing to start right away, so it was better not to take any chances.
As a result, Clark was stuck at the Apollo Hotel, and his terrible room forced him to spend as much time as possible outside of it. He had gone out walking through the streets, taking the opportunity to get to know the city, and had been drawn to that particular pub because of the animated shouts of "Sweep! Sweep!" he had heard while passing by.
Is that curling?, he asked himself, looking at the TV.
Well, it is curling, Clark concluded, correctly assuming that the cheerful patrons who were now jumping up and clapping had no idea what the game was about.
While he was deciding what to order, Lois was struggling to make her way back from the bathroom, pushing through spectators who were moving around too much for her liking. As she passed near the counter, someone shouted "Now that's physics!" and accidentally, but accurately, elbowed her. This made her stumble sideways and bump into Clark, who had just spun around completely to look for a place to hang his coat. She rubbed her nose, sore from the collision, and restrained herself from asking if the strange man's chin was made of steel.
"I'm so sorry! Is your nose okay? I'm really sorry, I was trying to get over there and I didn't see you..." Clark began, worried one moment and completely paralyzed the next. "...coming."
"Uh, my nose is fine, thanks," Lois replied, after a moment that was too long. He was staring at her with a strange sort of surprise, and she only resisted the urge to check if she had ketchup or sauce on her cheek because she had just looked at herself in the mirror. When it became clear that the stranger wouldn't say anything else, she reluctantly apologized back and grabbed the fries she had ordered earlier from the counter, sparing the waitress a trip to her table. Then she hurried to pay the bill and returned to her seat.
Powerless to do anything else, Clark followed her with his eyes until the bartender waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention.
How interesting, Lucy thought.
"What are you staring at?" Lois wanted to know, narrowing her eyes at her younger sister.
"Huh?" Lucy straightened up in her seat, startled. Lois turned to see what had distracted her, and spotted the man she had bumped into, leaning over the counter while listening to the bartender. "Oh. Already got your eye on that one? I thought you were with that... what’s his name, Ethan?"
"I'm not! I mean, I'm with Ethan. I was just
looking at the guy."
"Sure." Lois took a sip of her beer.
"I'm serious." Lucy huffed as she faced her sister's incredulous look. Suddenly, she decided to change strategies. If she was right — and she thought she was — the handsome stranger would soon make an attempt to become her brother-in-law, and she had to pave the way. "Come on, Lois, there's no harm in looking. And how could I not look? He's very handsome. Even you have to admit it."
"Hmph." Lois turned again to analyze him. She admitted he was, in fact, an attractive man. He had a nice profile, and his hair fell over his glasses with a certain charm. What's more, his T-shirt did little to hide his broad shoulders and strong arms. Right at that moment, he looked up and met her gaze, and quickly, she turned back around.
"Well?" Lucy pressed, practically singing it.
"He's a fine specimen of the male species. Objectively speaking."
Lucy hid her satisfied smile behind her glass.
Perfect. One step at a time. She changed the subject. "Hey, I still can't figure out this game that's on TV. Are they scraping the ice?"
Now settled on a stool with his coat forgotten on his lap, Clark was sipping the beer he had ordered and casting occasional glances towards the Lane sisters' table (unaware that he was under surveillance by the younger one). He wondered what had happened to him. He had met other beautiful women before and had never felt his mouth go dry, the world around him stop, and his heart race all at once.
Well, I've never met a woman as beautiful as her, he admitted, allowing himself to gaze longer at her profile. Her shiny hair fell to the side as she ate fries and talked with the woman across from her. Her voice was also attractive, he caught himself thinking out of nowhere, and realized he had never described anyone's voice as attractive before. It had a fascinating inflection, full of feeling: confidence, irony, irritation, and a complex humor. It was as if it had been made to enchant him, the way a siren would a sailor.
Dude, you saw her five minutes ago and you're already a mess...He composed himself, stared at his beer glass, and forced his mind to devise a strategy. What would he do? Would he talk to her? Yes, he decided, without hesitation. Trying wouldn't cost him anything, and living with the knowledge that he should have tried would cost him plenty. After all, Metropolis wasn't Smallville, where everyone ran into each other at the town square; they might very well never see each other again. Was she, by some happy miracle of the universe, single? He hadn't noticed a ring. Clark frowned, only then realizing that he had unconsciously looked at her ring finger. Of course, that still didn't mean she was available. But he had caught her staring at him just moments ago.
That might mean something, right?"Oh, no!" Lucy protested as she watched her sister grab the last fry from the basket. "You took the last one again!"
Lois flashed an angelic smile. "Lois two, Lucy zero."
"Selfish."
The older Lane shrugged. "So, shall we get going? I'm not working tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I don't have laundry to do."
"Can't you do your laundry later? And we still have to pay the bill." Lucy tried to buy some time, shooting a sharp telepathic message straight to the handsome man with glasses, who was now staring at his own drink.
Make a move!"Nope, in the afternoon I'm going to work out. And I already paid."
Dammit!, Lucy cursed internally.
Of all the days for her to decide to be generous... "It's still early. Why don't we go watch the old men playing checkers? Looks fun. Weren't you on the checkers club in high school?"
"I was on the
chess club, Lucy. The checkers club was our arch-enemy," Lois replied, already searching for her car keys in her bag. "Besides, don't you have work tomorrow?"
The jingle of keys sounded like an alarm to Clark's sensitive hearing, cutting through his fog of rumination. He reached into his coat pocket for the paper and pen he always carried, scribbled something at superhuman speed, downed the last gulp of beer, and got up from the stool he had been sitting on — all before his brain even knew what he was doing. This was his last chance, and there wasn't even time to give himself a pep talk with a
"Be a man, Kent!"Lucy heard the screech of the stool against the floor and looked away from her sister. The handsome stranger was heading their way.
Smart guy! Then again, with how often he'd been looking over here, only an idiot would have missed the opportunity. Either way, she was very glad she wouldn't have to shout to alert him, after all. Lucy admitted she was past the acceptable age for embarrassing herself in pubs, and she already had several humiliating stories on her track record.
She watched the man approach with relief and also with a certain delight; he was really quite a hunk. Lois was indeed very lucky to be single, Lucy concluded, suddenly resenting Ethan just a little bit.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt you," Clark began, smiling first at Lucy and then at Lois. "I won't take long. I just thought it wasn't polite of me not to introduce myself after bumping into you. I'm Clark Kent."
Lois arched an eyebrow, jangling her keys lightly. "Lois."
"Nice to meet you. I was wondering if you'd let me take you out for coffee someday." He flashed a charming nervous smile and took one hand out of his pocket, where Lucy noticed a piece of paper.
Smooth, Mr. Kent, she congratulated him silently. "I could say it would be to apologize for my earlier lack of attention, but that wouldn't be entirely true. So, if you're interested—"
And there we have it, Lois thought. "Sorry to disappoint you," she interrupted, "but I have a son."
What the hell are you doing? Lucy's eyes went wide. At that moment, all she wanted was to slap her own forehead... and then grab her sister by the neck and shake her head until her teeth rattled. How was it possible that extreme intelligence and extreme stupidity could coexist in one person? Now Clark Kent would certainly leave and never come back.
"Go! Go!", rang out the voices of the curling spectators.
"I'm sorry," said Clark, taken aback, after a brief moment of silence. "I didn't see a wedding ring, so I assumed you might be single," he explained. He bowed his head and turned to leave. "My mistake. Good night."
Lois furrowed her brow. "I didn't say I wasn't single, I said I have a son," she corrected, before the man could take a second step away. It only occurred to her too late that, for her purposes, staying quiet would have been the smarter option. But Lois Lane was the owner of her own stories and didn't accept anyone editing them, not even if it might do her some good.
"Oh." Clark blinked, recalculating. "So you mean you are single?"
Somehow, Lois felt the tables turning, but still, she answered. She had come too far to swap out the armor she'd be wearing at this point in the battle. "Yes, I am."
"In that case..." He hesitated, adjusting his glasses. "If you're single, I don't exactly see what the problem is. Unless you're simply not interested, of course."
Unless I'm simply not interested! Does he really think I need his mercy to win a fight I started myself? How condescending! Or is he crazy? Aren't men supposed to run away at this part? "Like I said, I'm single. I'm a
single mother," she emphasized.
"Okay."
Or maybe he's just stupid and doesn't understand what I'm saying, Lois guessed.
Better to help him out. "I have a
son."
Clark suppressed a laugh, afraid of offending her, but couldn't help the smile forming on his lips. "I got it. No problem."
That made Lois feel the familiar certainty that she was being challenged, and suddenly it was impossible for her to abandon this conversation without managing to wear him down. "I don't have time to date. My son needs me, and I have to give him all my attention." She smiled with fake sweetness, unaware of the disarming effect it would have on her interlocutor. "I'm only here tonight because he's at a sleepover, just so you know."
Lucy, who was watching the exchange in awe, felt that this was the perfect moment to interrupt. "Lois, you're making it sound like I don't enjoy spending time with my nephew! You know I adore him, and I can watch him anytime. And don't be so dramatic. He's ten years old already, he doesn't need you that much anymore."
"Yes!
Yes! Double points!" shouted a drunk from the other side of the pub.
Yes, double points, Lucy silently agreed.
Lois two, Lucy two."He does too!" Lois retorted pathetically.
Judging by her clenched teeth, Lucy would say her sister was trying to warn her to mind her own business. However, pulling the rug out from under Lois had always been one of her favorite pastimes, so Lucy proceeded in pursuit of the third point on the imaginary Lane scoreboard.
"Besides," she continued, "arguing that single mothers shouldn't have romantic experiences anymore so they can live for their children doesn't seem very feminist to me. I'm disappointed you'd think something like that!" Lucy turned to Clark before any venomous words could escape her sister's already open mouth. "What do you say, Mr. Kent?"
"I'd say," Clark began, carefully choosing his words, "that a woman is always a woman, even if she becomes a mother."
"And being a woman necessarily carries a romantic or sexual meaning for you, Mr. Kent?" Lois inquired, eyebrows raised.
Lucy rolled her eyes.
What a difficult woman. Fortunately, Clark Kent didn't seem the least bit impatient. He might even be finding it amusing, she would venture to say.
"Well, Miss..."
"You can call me Lois."
"Well then, Miss Lois, if you analyze what I said
without an accusatory bias," he emphasized, "you'll realize that's not what I said at all."
"And what did you mean, then?"
"I have complete faith in your interpretive abilities, Lois."
"Yes! You did it!" celebrated another member of the group of drunk curling fans.
Damn it. It cost Lois something to admit he was good at this. "Fine. I see your point. But you're arguing from an ideal world. In the real world, single mothers have to give up part of their experiences as women. Responsibilities. Even men interested in dating single mothers have to face responsibilities. For instance, the possibility of becoming father figures to their children."
There. That'll definitely scare him off."You're right. And? I don't see how that contributes to our discussion."
"Most men would say—"
"Are we talking about most men, Lois? I thought I was only advocating for my invitation. Don't get me wrong, but I'm not exactly interested in defending your other suitors."
Lucy wanted to burst out laughing. Lois clenched her teeth.
"Are you saying you'd take on that responsibility, Mr. Kent? Taking care of a child's needs, even partially, is only easy in theory."
"Would you say that affection helps you fulfill your responsibilities towards your son, Miss Lois? Does liking your son make your mission as a mother lighter?"
What kind of question is that? How am I supposed to answer this? "Yes. Of course." Lois tried to make her voice sound natural.
"Look, I really like children. And they usually like me a lot too. I take great pleasure in spending time with my friends' kids whenever I can. Whether it's helping them with homework, advising, going out, or joining in their games. I bet that..." Clark paused. "Forgive me, what's your son's name?"
"It's, um, Lane."
Lucy disguised her laugh with a cough.
"Lane is ten years old, isn't he? I bet he refuses to make his bed, hates math, complains about having to eat vegetables, plays baseball, and loves basketball, video games, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And why couldn't I guide him through the boring necessary stuff as well as the fun stuff? Maybe I could take him to a Metros versus Lizards game, teach him how to take care of a garden, and also accompany him and his friends to an arcade."
For Lois, that was the last straw. "What? You are not going out with my son!", she said, momentarily forgetting she didn't have a son. "I don't even know you!"
"You're right. You don't know me." Clark flashed a bright, victorious, almost innocent smile. "That's why I asked you out."
"It's over! He won!" shouted another of the drunks. Those in the group who could still stand got up and started hugging each other. "Yes!"
Lois's mind went blank, and she could only stare at Clark, petrified, her lips slightly parted as if the retort were on the tip of her tongue. But it wasn't — and he had won.
Suddenly nervous, Clark cleared his throat and placed the paper, folded twice, on the table. "This is my number. Call me if you decide to accept my invitation. If you want to. I might not be able to answer during the day, but I'll be on the lookout, waiting... Um, hoping. Good night. Again, it was a pleasure meeting you."
He spun on his heels and quickly returned to his stool, fearful that the piece of paper would be scorned, or worse, torn up.
At least, he thought,
I won't regret not having tried. Either way, he decided he should order a glass of hot apple cider to console himself.
Lucy had her hands over her mouth, hiding a smile. Her future brother-in-law wasn't just handsome and smart but also very brave, she decided. She watched her sister follow him with her eyes as he walked out with his hands in his pockets.
Still slack-jawed, Lois picked up Clark Kent's offering with her fingertips as if it were a possibly contaminated object, and stared at it with a furious determination, as if she had been gravely offended by it. Just when Lucy began to be certain that the little paper would be crumpled and thrown to the floor, Lois tossed it into her bag so fast the movement could barely be seen beyond a blur. Then, in another sudden and swift motion, the older Lane stood up, grabbed her coat from the back of the chair, flipped her hair over her shoulders, and marched towards the door.
"Come on, Lucy," she called out, authoritatively. Without waiting for her sister, she violently pulled her keys from her bag and left the establishment.
Lucy let out a sigh and a laugh at the same time. She didn't want to upset Lois after tonight, but there was something that needed to be done immediately.
"Mr. Kent!" Clark's head shot up, startled, when she appeared right beside him. "I'm Lois's sister, Lucy." She extended her hand.
He shook it, embarrassed that he hadn't asked her name before. "Nice to meet you, Lucy. You, um, can call me Clark."
"I just wanted to tell you that you were great! Congratulations!"
She was still shaking his hand, excitedly, and Clark wondered why she seemed to be treating him as if he'd just scored the winning basket in a basketball game.
"Thank you?"
"And she will call you," Lucy continued, finally releasing his hand. "You can count on it! Even if it's just to prove a point. Trust me, I know how my sister's mind works. You impressed her, and now she's furious — and curious! You've got this."
Clark didn't know if fury had ever been a good omen for a romantic date, but from what little he'd gotten to know of Lois, it didn't seem impossible to imagine. He smiled, feeling a spark of hope bloom. "Thank you."
Lucy smiled back, starting to walk away. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She stopped. "She doesn't have a son at all. It's just a man-repellent tactic she uses every now and then. You know how it is, sometimes lying about having a boyfriend doesn't work, because actually some men get even more determined to—" A car horn blared repeatedly. "I have to go! See you!"
Jaw dropped, Clark watched her jog to the door and disappear from his sight. He only returned to the present when the waitress waved in front of his face again, this time to ask if it was okay that the hot apple cider he'd ordered didn't have cinnamon. Apparently, the pub's owner had reserved the entire stock to start making Christmas recipes.
THE END
Final note: Feel free to leave your thoughts or suggestions! It would make me really happy.
Next part:
Part 2
I'm happy you like it!
They do have wonderful Cat houses in Metropolis. I’m sure they’re better furnished than the Apollo. 
It was advertised, but the whole feeling, it just didn’t feel like it. Also, how little time does Lois actually spend with her kid if she’s such a workaholic? Or is that actually just a ruse?