Title: Costumes, 1/?
Author: htbthomas
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,187 words
Summary: When Clark shows up at the Planet’s costume party unprepared, Lois improvises with surprising results.
Author's Notes: I'm setting this fic in the fuzzy middle area of Season 1 where Lois and Clark are starting to click as a team, post Pheromone, My Lovely but before Lois begins to get serious with Lex. I know the idea of a costume party has been done many times before, but hopefully this version isn't exactly like someone else's. I'm not as well read in the L&C fandom as I'd like. But if you do know of a similar one, please let me know!

I wrote this as a birthday fic for one of my friends on LiveJournal... and I have been a long time reader of L&C fanfic. This is my first time posting here blush -- thanks to MrsMosley for encouraging me!

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

Lois slinked across the newsroom floor, knowing full well all eyes were on her. How could they not be - her mermaid costume fit almost as well as a second skin. Below a revealing bikini top, her iridescent green skirt flared at the ankles, creating a "fin" effect that allowed her to walk unhindered. The men looked at her with appreciation, most of the women with a touch of jealousy. But there was only one set of eyes she wanted to look on her, and there was no way he would show up at a Daily Planet costume party. Not unless there were a bomb set to go off, or a hostage situation...

Lois sighed. No, unless he made a habit of X-raying the building to check on her, Lois' skimpy costume would probably go to waste tonight. Still, it was a little thrilling to think that he just might catch a glimpse of her. She wondered what he would think about it, blushing a little at the reaction she imagined he might have...

"Wow."

From behind her came the voice of her partner, Clark Kent. Not quite the person she wanted to see right now, but he would do. All of the other men had been too afraid to do much more than whistle appreciatively. Not that she blamed them. As sexy as she looked right now, Mad Dog Lane would sooner bite your head off as give you a flattered smile.

Wondering what a Kansas farm boy would dress as - probably a scarecrow, she snarked inwardly - Lois turned around to his approving smile.

"Clark!" she chided him. He wasn't even dressed up at all - still in his suit and loud tie from earlier. "What's wrong with you? Geez, didn't you have time to even throw on a mask or something?"

He looked down at his shoes, embarrassed. "I had a costume... but it got ruined... and then I got so busy I didn't have time to..."

Lois wasn't really even listening by the end of his lame excuse - it was always something. She started to look around for something, anything that Clark could add to his suit to make it look like he had a costume on. She looked over at the janitor's closet - maybe there were a spare pair of coveralls and a mop he could use... Her white blazer hanging over a chair - he could use it as a makeshift lab coat... Nah, he'd rip the shoulders out for sure... The lampshade? Okay, Lane, now you're just getting desperate...

She looked again at the janitor's closet. If there was a tool belt in there, or something they could rig up... "Come with me," she ordered, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him unceremoniously toward the closet. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was looking - everyone was currently focused on Cat Grant, who seemed to have started some sort of drinking game over beside the open bar - Lois opened the door.

"Lois?!" Clark stared at her in utter confusion. "What are you—?"

"Get in here." She pulled him inside, shut the door and snapped the light on. "You need a costume, right? No way am I going to let my partner be unprepared. How would that look?"

Spying a tool belt hanging from the janitor's cart, she began to pull his suit jacket from his shoulders. "If you strip down to your undershirt, and hang this belt from your waist..." She began to undo the buttons of Clark's dress shirt. "...then you can—"

"Lois, stop, I can—"

Her fingers paused even without his pleas. The undershirt was bright blue - who the heck wore bright blue undershirts? Wait a sec... it wasn't even cotton. It felt like some sort of spandex...

She suddenly realized what it was.

"Clark... you're wearing a Superman outfit under here, aren't you?"

Lois looked up into his face, which had turned about five shades of pink. "Um..."

She undid a few more buttons. "Yes!" She slapped the 'S' emblem with the back of her hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was, uh, going to..." He tripped over his words, not meeting her eyes.

"I mean, it's kind of childish, but... I suppose even grown men can pretend to be superheroes at a costume party." Lois stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. "Well, come on, don't be shy. Let's see it."

Clark stood there a moment looking shell-shocked. Then with a wry smile, he finished undressing for her. After laying his clothes gently across a shelf, he held out his arms, and turned in an awkward circle.

Hmm. He was just a little too short, and the cape didn't quite hang right the way he was slumping... Plus, the hair and glasses were all wrong.

"What do you think? Do I pass?"

Lois shook her head. "Lose the glasses."

She reached over to pluck them from his face, but he caught her wrist in a curiously strong grip. "What? No... I—"

"What? You'll look more like Superman without them on. Here let me..."

He stepped quickly back, out of range. "Seriously, I'm practically blind without them."

She threw up her hands. "Fine!" she conceded, shaking her head. "At least you have a costume now."

Clark smiled mysteriously. "Yes, I do."

Lois moved to the closet door and peeked out of it. No one seemed to be looking in their direction. Lois silently gestured for him to follow, and they crept back into the party.

It didn't take long for the two of them to attract attention. Really, as she saw the way everyone was reacting to it, Clark's costume was perfect. It was a way to poke a little fun at how everyone talked about her "relationship" with Superman - one that absolutely didn't exist. Lois pushed down the little voice that said, Yeah, you wish the rumors were true, though, don't you? She gave the room a broad smile and purposefully took Clark by the arm, walking proudly through the crowd. Their co-workers chuckled and murmured as the reporting team passed them on the way to the refreshments.

Suddenly the crowd opened up ahead of them, revealing... Cat Grant. "Well, hello..." She stood before them, twisting a fake tail in one hand, the other trailing down the leopard-skin print of her bodysuit. Her mouth quirked upward as she sized them both up. "So, Lois. Couldn't get the real thing to come as your date?" She stalked closer, laying her hands on Clark's chest. "Though I think I prefer a man I can..." she bared her incisors, completing the leopard look, "...sink my teeth into."

Clark looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't step away. With a tiny surge of jealousy, she yanked Clark by the arm away from Cat's 'paws.' "Don't get any ideas, Cat. 'Superman' is my date tonight."

"Is he?" she drawled. "I bet he'd prefer someone a little less 'wet behind the ears.'" She curled the long, lacquered fingers of one hand into mock-claws, and purred, "Besides, you know cats like to eat fish."

Before Lois could lunge forward, Clark stepped between them hastily. "Whoa, ladies. Don't you think you're carrying this act a little far?"

Lois blinked. Where had that come from? Now that she looked around, she saw that they had attracted a bit of a crowd. Even Perry and Jimmy had come to watch - Jimmy with an expression of shocked titillation, Perry with fatherly amusement.

Cat was completely nonplussed, however. "Who says it's an act, sweetie?" she responded with a playful growl. She turned and sauntered away, calling over her shoulder, "Let me know if you want to trade that cold fish for a hot tiger..."

Lois hastily closed her mouth, nostrils flaring in barely-suppressed rage. She glared around them, snapping, "What are you all looking at?"

The crowd started to disperse with scattered chuckles, and Clark turned to her, a curious expression on his face. "Lois, you can't let Cat get to you," he told her earnestly. "She may have claws, but she's really a harmless kitten."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" she tossed back at him flippantly, even though she knew better. "Besides, who says she got to me?" She hadn't, Lois refused to be shaken by her unexpected reaction to Cat's come-ons. It was time to get this party started. "C'mon, 'Superman,' I need a drink."

- - - - -

Lois didn't remember how she was suddenly stumbling into her apartment, one arm around strong shoulders. The room seemed to be spinning somehow - had she really had that much to drink? She didn't recall how they'd traveled here. A warm voice in her ear startled her. "Let's just get you into bed, where you can sleep this off."

Was that why everything felt so strange? Was she really drunk? How had that happened? She rarely even drank, let alone allowed herself to get drunk...

"I'll just turn on the light..."

The lights blazed to life, temporarily blinding her. Lois threw her arms over her eyes. "Augh! Too bright!" Her quick movement threw her completely off-balance, and she tripped headlong toward the floor... but she never crashed into it.

The lights had gone back out, and she found herself safely held in those strong arms. "Are you all right, Lois?" That voice again, full of concern... she ran a hand down the arm that held her - slick fabric above rock-hard muscles. Hadn't she been at the Planet costume party with Clark? How did she end up in Superman's arms?

She tried to focus on the face above her, the light from the window behind him throwing his face into shadow. It didn't help that his image was swimming crazily before her eyes, either. "How did I...?"

"I'd guess you had a little too much to drink," Superman said with a touch of amusement. Amusement? He usually spoke with a politely formal tone of voice. This was getting stranger and stranger... "Come on, Lois, it's just a little farther," he encouraged.

She let herself be led into her bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed. Thankfully, he never turned a light back on, but he wouldn't need to, would he? Superman could see perfectly well in the dark. He opened one of her dresser drawers, and pulled out a set of soft flannel pajamas, laying them beside her. Then he gently removed her shoes and jacket, but hesitated in removing anything else.

"Can you take it from here? I..." He trailed off.

Silly, she thought dizzily. I know I can trust you to not to take advantage of me. But he had already turned his back and moved a respectful distance away. She reached behind her back to unhook the bikini top, but toppled over sideways with a surprised "Oh!" How funny that she was undressing in the presence of her fantasy, but completely unable to manage even that? She giggled. "I think I'd better... just change later..."

In a flash, he was tucking her into bed. "Sleep well," he said, smoothing her hair over her forehead in an affectionate gesture. His warm hand trailed down the side of her cheek and she sighed in pleasure.

But all too soon, it was gone, he and his cape disappearing through the doorway. "Wait!" she called after him.

Superman paused and turned back around. "Yes?"

"Don't I even get a goodnight kiss...?" she asked in a small, timid voice. Did I really just ask him that?

There was a long pause. Her eyes began to flutter closed... maybe he was already gone, hadn't heard her... She was so tired, had she imagined this whole visit?

And then his mouth closed over hers, his tongue darting inside as she parted her lips to welcome him. She moaned softly, bringing her hands up to tangle in his soft brown hair, pulling him closer. The room began to spin even faster than it had been spinning before. His kiss was amazing, much better than the last time she had kissed him, and he had been under the influence of the pheromone before.

Images began to assault her senses then, and she suddenly remembered that Clark had been dressed as Superman tonight. She gasped, pulling back. Who had she just been kissing?

But before she could really think about that, he kissed her again. Hell, it doesn't matter who it is. She responded more passionately, the alcohol still singing its siren call through her veins. All too soon he pulled away, and she groaned in disappointment.

"As much as I like this," he said with a regretful tone, "I'd much rather do it when you have a clear head."

"But I—" Lois tried to reach for him again, but fell back as she was hit with a touch of vertigo. "I guess you're right..." She could hardly form a coherent thought as it was now.

"Good night, Lois." He brushed his lips softly against her forehead as darkness overtook her, a smile on her lips.

Next: Part 2