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Zaeria Cheng Nope, no spoilers, really, to speak of. This is somewhat of an AU, FutureFic type story than anything else. As a heads up, it jumps POVs. For the CLFF 8th Wave, last line challenge. See last line for challenge issued. ^_^ Well, Journal, here we are again. Y’know, when that therapist suggested that I try writing my ‘thoughts’ and my ‘feelings’ down in a journal to help me cope with the stress in my life, I told her exactly what my feelings were; that she was a crackpot, only not quite in those terms. Hey, city girl with claws, and I know how to use ‘em too. But even this intrepid reporter has to admit…it helps. And it isn’t that much of a stretch, to be keeping a journal. After all, I *am* a reporter. And a damn fine one, might I say. But I digress. I should maybe get to the point now, huh? Well, the day *started* out fine…wake up, curse at the alarm clock, hit the snooze button, wake up again, seriously consider tossing the damn alarm clock off the balcony, perform my morning rituals, dress to impress, go to the Planet, get yelled at by Perry, turn around and yell at Smallville, get an assignment, yell at Smallville *again*, and head over to the LexCorp Development Laboratories for the unveiling of the new, low-cost, low-maintenance environmentally-friendly, all-purpose public waste disposal units (aka “trash cans”). That’s when the proverbial shit hit the fan…only I didn’t know it at the time. Funny how things manage to change your world around in a matter of hours isn’t it? From the top: we got to LCD Labs on time, but a crowd was already there. Smallville ‘forgot’ his press badge, and had to go back to the car for it. There were explosions, I being me ran to ‘investigate,’ got head over heels in trouble, Superman showed up, and saved the day, getting injured in the process. I had to speak with the Metro PD and get checked over by the EMTs, before catching a cab back to the Planet because my partner had disappeared on me. That convenient disappearing thing he’d been doing all this time should’ve given me some clue… “*Smallville*!” The shriek reverberated throughout the bullpen. Jimmy Olsen winced in sympathy as the…vision…in cream beige—now ripped and liberally streaked with unidentifiable gunk—stormed a path towards her partner’s desk. People in the human hurricane’s path wisely scattered lest they be caught in the line of fire. A distant part of Lois’ mind, the natural part from where stems a woman’s accessorizing skills, noted that he was talking not on the regular phone sitting on his desk but on a small, tasteful, top-of-the-line slim silver cell phone—one she’d never seen before—but this tidbit was pushed aside as she focused wholly on the infuriatingly annoying country hick that was her ‘partner.’ One Clark Kent; suit, messy hair, and clunky glasses included. “Yes…yes, I’m fine…no…NO! All right…but…but I didn’t…you *know* I couldn’t just…” Clark gave a deep sigh as the voice on the other end of the phone ranted on and on, and rolled his eyes, before noticing the enraged female entering the bullpen, and quickly tried to wrap his call up. “Listen, I have to go…yep…well, she’s not really all that bad…yes, I know. I’ll try, Love…Mm-hmm…I’m sure I’m okay…yeah, love you too…see you tonight…really? House or…penthouse. Got it. Enjoy your meeting, bye.” Hanging up, he slipped the phone into a pocket and turned towards Lois, preparing for the inevitable onslaught. “You have some explaining to do, Kent! Start with why the *HELL* you decided to disappear on me after the whole explosion thing! Do you know how long I had to wait before Metropolis PD *finally* let me leave the scene? And do you have *any* idea how hard it is to find a cab down there?! And another thing! This suit I’m wearing? This *ruined* suit? Entirely your fault! If you hadn’t left your press badge in the car, I wouldn’t have had to wait for you in the danger zone!” Lois conveniently blocked out the fact that she wouldn’t have *been * in the danger zone if she hadn’t had run towards the muffled sounds of the initial explosives going off. “I can’t *believe* that you forgot your PRESS BADGE, of all things! Are you a reporter or not?! And I didn’t even get a chance to talk to Superman, either. Damn it, I really wanted an exclusive with him…Kent? Smallville! Are you even listening to me?” When Lois had begun speaking, Clark had zoned out. It really wasn’t anything hadn’t heard before. Lois had the habit of bitching and complaining when things didn’t go her way, and as her partner, he was the unlucky grunt to whom all of it was directed. She also had the unerring ability to get herself into situations involving maximum danger with minimal chance of escaping unscathed. Clark had lost count of the number of times he’d placed himself in situations that’d even caused *him* an amount of discomfort, if not pain, just so the daft woman wouldn’t get herself killed. And all this because she had a bad case of lust/hero-worship for Superman. His alter-ego, Superman. And wasn’t *that* a pain all in itself? Lois *was* an innocent, despite everything, and he *couldn’t* just let her ‘fend for herself’ as a certain jealous someone often repeated. He grimaced imperceptibly. Even when the situation involved pretty green glowing rocks that had the potential to kill him, otherwise known as Kryptonite. As it was, he was *so* going to get an earful about ‘putting [himself] in danger when [he] knew damn well better’ when he got to the penthouse later. But how the hell was *he* supposed to know that the disgruntled LexCorp employee and his half-assed extremist buddies who’d rigged the new ‘trash cans’ to explode had laced the explosives with kryptonite dust? The buggers had used lead-based paint to cover the explosives, for Christ sakes! And he was starting to feel really light-headed here…with a start, Clark realized that Lois had upped her glare from Ultra Violent to Infra Dead. He absently thanked the stars that he was pretty much invulnerable, and thus impervious to her death glare. “Uh, yeah, Lois. My fault completely, I suck, Superman is the man of your dreams, sorry about the suit.” Clark said quickly. Now that he’d noticed the headache, it was getting worse. Plus, he was finding it strangely hard to breathe all of a sudden. “Listen, can we talk about this some other time?” ‘Like never, hopefully, like that’s ever going to happen’ Clark thought absently. “I’m really not feeling well…I’m going to…uh…clean up here…and…go…” Clark cut his sentence off with a wheezing gasp of pain, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Without realizing it, he swayed forward in his seat, before falling to the floor in a blackout. He didn’t even hear Lois’ startled exclamation, or Jimmy’s shouts for someone to call an ambulance. I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I was so scared. I mean, one moment I’m doing my usual of chewing Smallville a new one, and the next the guy up and keels over on me. Man, he didn’t look so good…I mean, yeah, Clark Kent is one geeky individual, but even I have to admit that he has potential to be a *hot* commodity. God, just *look* at him, and imagine him without the bad suit, bad hair, and AWFUL glasses! Tall, broad shouldered, golden-tan skin, dark silky hair…I can’t believe I didn’t draw the conclusions sooner! Some investigative reporter I am, huh? But anyway, when I say he didn’t look too good, I mean he was passed out cold on the floor, skin cool and clammy, breathing labored, and pale as paste. For all I use the guy as a target, he’s one of the only people to *try* to even get along with me, you know? And I have to admit, he’s a good guy to have as a friend. And…I do worry about him. Hey, he *is* my partner after all. So Jimmy gets someone to call an ambulance as I try to get him to wake up or something. And get another shock. Under that suit of his, the man is *cut*! I mean, I could literally *feel* the muscles on him! Damn…talk about bouncing a coin off a man’s butt, I’ll bet I could bounce them off his abs! But then again, taking into account who he *is* after all, I shouldn’t be surprised. So yeah, the medics appear in the bullpen, had trouble loading Smallville into the stretcher (him being practically all muscle, or something…who would’ve thought?), and we (the medics with Smallville, me, and Jimmy) rush away to Metropolis General. Perry would’ve followed, but he has a paper to run, and my freaked out coworkers to calm down. It wasn’t every day that the seemingly healthiest person in the entire city passes out, after all. So while we’re in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, the medics undo Clark’s tie and top buttons to get a respirator on him. That’s when I noticed the gash on his shoulder and collarbone, and things start to click unpleasantly together in my mind. That gash was in the exact same place… “Ms. Lane? are you all right?” The questions, asked in a familiar voice, made Lois open her eyes and look up. Last thing she remembered was the large piece of metal flying her direction. Now she was facing the man (alien) of her dreams. “Superman! Oh, I’m all right. Thank you so much for saving me!” Lois gushed as Superman gave her an once-over. She frowned suddenly. “Oh God! You’re hurt!” Indeed, the bright blue suit was ripped on one shoulder, displaying a shallow gash across it, ending at Superman’s collarbone. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that, ma’am. Right now let’s get you out of here.” And before Lois could say another word otherwise, Superman had picked her up and flown her to safety, before blurring back to stop the small fires breaking out. God, how could I not have seen it before? Superman…Clark Kent…same person! My mind was still struggling with the concept as we arrived at the hospital, and the gurney with Clark on it disappeared into the ER as Jimmy and I were directed into the waiting room, with a nurse flipping through Clark’s wallet for an emergency contact number, since neither Jimmy nor I were able to give the hospital much information. How is it that, even after he’s been here for so long, all we knew about Clark Kent (the important things) was that his middle name is Jerome, his parents are Jon and Martha, Martha made the best pies in the state, and he grew up on a farm in Smallville, Meteor Capital of Kansas? Who would have thought that farm boy Clark Kent, Mr. American Country Clean living himself and geek extraordinaire, and the mysterious alien Superman from the planet Krypton, were one and the same? That my secret fantasy, Superman, was in fact my nerdy, bumbling rookie reporter partner?! Not seven minutes later, we learned another bit of information about one Clark Kent, a bit that had my already overtaxed brain hurting like nobody’s business. Namely, that he was in a relationship with a certain shark-like, no-nonsense, bald young billionaire. I thought I would pass out at what I heard… “Sir…Sir! You can’t park there! It’s for emergency vehicles only!” The nurse exclaimed loudly. Lois walked out of the waiting room in a daze to see a deep purple Ferrari convertible smack in front of the ER doors. She turned her head in disbelief as the ‘sir’ in question replied. “Mercy, move it.” Lex Luthor all but threw his keys at the female bodyguard at his side before turning back to the nurse behind the counter. “Where is Clark Kent?” The nurse bristled. “I’m sorry, that information is confidential. Unless you’re a family member, I cannot…” “My name is Lex Luthor.” Lex growled, pulling a slim wallet out of his impeccable business suit jacket and slamming it down in front of the nurse. “I was informed that Clark Kent, my *boyfriend* has been admitted. Where. Is. He?” Sensing danger, the nurse gulped. “H-he’s in room 3, M-mr. L-lu..thor, sir.” The nurse replied. Lex didn’t wait for her to say anything else before he was striding through the doors marked ‘Hospital Personnel Only,’ barking orders into a small, silver cell phone. So, Clark turns out to be fine. Released from the hospital an hour after he arrived, in the care of a very different Lex Luthor than the business tycoon one we are used to, explains away his fainting spell as a ‘lung infection,’ and is taking a week’s sick leave from the Planet. You know what I think? I think that Clark…Superman accidentally inhaled some of the Kryptonite that must’ve been with the explosives. The Kryptonite had to have been there, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten injured. But he’s okay now…Luthor’ll see to it. I did some research a couple of hours ago, and have spent the rest of the day thinking about what I have discovered. Okay, so let me recap. Clark Kent is Superman. Clark Kent is also dating Lex Luthor. The superhero Super*Stud* whom I’ve been trying to get into the pants of is in a relationship, a long-term relationship, from what I’ve found out, with the ice cold billionaire corporate shark I’ve often complained about to said superhero’s alter-ego, Clark Kent, Smallville. They’ve been together, apparently, since sometime when Clark was still in High School. Oh god, when I think about all the complaints about Lex Luthor I’ve voiced to Clark! Or how about all those comments about meeting and dating Superman?! Will anyone ever find out that I’ve discovered Clark Kent is Superman? Hell, no, this is *my* secret. I may be a bloodthirsty bitch sometimes, I’ll admit, but Clark is a *friend.* AND he’s saved my life, several times, in fact. So what if my dreams of me, Superman, a deserted island, and coconuts have come to an end? I’m fine with them together. Now that I’ve thought about it, it’s not too bad. Clark and Lex. Lex and Clark. They make a nice couple. And Clark isn’t ever going to know that I know he’s Superman either. I’ll die from embarrassment. And really, I’m okay with the idea that I’ve lost my chance with the man of my dreams. Who am I kidding? Like I even had a chance in the first place. I need liquor. And chocolate. And ice cream. Lots of all three. Lois, wrapped in a comfortable robe, looked over what she’d written, and ripped the pages from her notebook. She wandered over to lit gas fireplace, and stared into the flames for a moment. Giving a deep sigh, she tossed the papers into the fire, watching absently as they caught and incinerated. She brushed her hands together, and headed for the kitchen, mumbling to herself. “Superman is Clark Kent, and is in love with Lex Luthor. I never had a chance. Welcome to the worst day of my life.” << |