From: "L-Soft list server at Indiana University (1.8d)" To: "ARTF@MemoryAlpha.nil" File: "LOISCLA-GENERAL-L LOG9803D" ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 00:13:09 PST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Peace Everett Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time In-Reply-To: <199803212233_MC2-3790-9E09@compuserve.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1"; X-MAPIextension=".TXT" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable March 28, 1998, 8 p.m. EST works for me. Peace ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 07:59:59 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Schmill Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time -- and OVERSEAS Fans In-Reply-To: <199803212233_MC2-3790-9E09@compuserve.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" March 22, 1998 Hi, Folcies! At 10:32 PM 3/21/98 -0500, Pam Jernigan wrote: [ ... ] >The *other* important question to consider is, what time of day should >we begin? I don't know if it's possible to set a time that will accomodate >all the FOLCs around the world. And if it comes down to it, I think that >we have more Australians than Germans, so that's the group we have to try >hardest to include. I'm sorry, my German friends, but that's how the >numbers work out. > >Just as a starting point, let's think about doing it at 8pm Eastern time >(from Eastern time, subtract 3 to get the Pacific time; add 6 to get German >time, and add 11-14 to get the time across Australia (I think)) (There's >another reason to do this thing sooner than later - starting in April we'll >have to worry about Daylight/Summer time around the world...). Saturday is a good day as most people can sleep in a bit on Sunday. However, though I am not entirely sure on the List's statistics, I am fairly sure that taken together, there should be at least as many EUROPEAN overseas fans as there are fans in Australia and New Zealand. Europe is not just made up or represented by Germans. I know at least of the UK, Ireland, France, Norway and Spain being there in addition, and European being as geographically small as it is, the only different time zone I am aware of is the one hour that GMT is closer to you Americans. Raising my voice here and asking for a starting time that is more considerate of us Europeans over here is NOT a personal preference as I am in a position to be flexible enough to go by a semi-EST schedule anyways. Not everyone is, though. 8 pm EST is 2 am in Germany, Norway, France, etc. and 1 am in the UK and Ireland. (Sorry, I'm not sure about Spain; I *think* that goes by GMT, too.) When doing some arithmetic that would avoid times that MOST people would be asleep, i.e. between midnight and 5 pm any given local time, I cam up with 5 pm EST as a possible starting time. That would mean a really starting at 11 pm Central European/10 pm GMT (a rather late curfew for us Europeans) a n d 7 am Sunday "down under" (calculating with Austrilia being 14 hours ahead of EST), which is early to get up on Sunday, but manageable IMO. That would put you Americans between 2 and 5 pm, fairly regular hours IMO. I am posting this to BOTH lists in an attempt to reach as many "overseas FoLC's" as possible. PLEASE speak up for yourselves, guys, indicating what times would be good for YOU. With the Kerth Awards being a great gesture in recognizing folcdom's finest writers and fanfic being THE most important contributing factor in keeping our show alive in my opinion, I would like as many fans as possible to be given a chance to attend the ceremony. If we scheduled it somewhere in the afternoon for you USsers, you'd still get the most convenient time out of the lot. My two cents here. Going back into lurking now. Doris Schmill ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 10:42:38 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: JCWimmer Subject: Fanfic: Full Circle: Chapter 4 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit Chapter 4 CJ spent most of the next day cleaning up the room he had been staying in, his father's old room, and the loading the cab of his truck with the necessities of a long trip. His Grandmother prepared him a huge batch of brownies to take home to his mother, and several other tasty snacks for himself. Once the truck was ready to go, he spent what was left of the day with his grandfather grandfather. CJ had always enjoyed spending time at the farm, and the last several weeks had been fun, but he wanted to be back at home with Kat. Now that he knew she didn't hate him, he was anxious to get back into his relationship with his best friend. Jonathan understood CJ's need, and tolerated the decision with good humor. Frankly, Jonathan had expected CJ to become bored with the farm before this time, and that would have happened if CJ hadn't spent so much time developing his abilities while he was there. Martha insisted that CJ wait until the next morning to leave for Metropolis. She had a great deal of confidence in his driving skills, and she was willing to allow him to make the drive alone, but she did not want him making the drive in the dark. CJ was disappointed that he would have to wait, but he was indeed proud that his grandparents would let him make the drive without his father at all. Martha and Jonathan had always been more supportive of his independence than his parents, but he believed that this was because they had already raised their child, and understood the value of independence. It wasn't that Lois or Clark was stifling, just that they were protective. When the morning came, and all the good-byes were said, CJ drove back to his home in Claremont. He was tired, but proud when he arrived at home just before dark, and he was also glad to see his parents. He spent a great deal of time telling them about his adventures on the farm, and explaining how his powers were developing. Clark made a point to remind him of keeping the abilities secret, but CJ was already learning to cover his increasing strength and speed. Once his parents were finished quizzing him, CJ made his way into his bedroom. He spent a few minutes writing in his journal, then he picked up his phone. He had been waiting all day to make this call, and he couldn't wait any longer. Kat answered on the third ring, "Hello?" "Hey, Kat. I'm home, now." CJ was stumbling over his words. He suddenly felt so stupid. "That's great. How was your trip?" "It was cool," CJ stumbled. "I guess I'm tired, but it was fun coming back by myself. I didn't feel so much like a baby." "Is something wrong, CJ?" CJ squirmed a bit more, "No. I don't think so. I'm just tired." "Well, maybe you should get some sleep, then." "I guess so. Good night, Kat." "Night, CJ." CJ hung up the phone feeling confused and shaken. He had always been able to talk to Kat, and he didn't know what the problem was. It wasn't supposed to make a difference, this change in his life. Kat had apparently dealt with it, and it wasn't bothering her any more. At least, she hadn't mentioned it. He was the one who was feeling uncomfortable and awkward. He supposed it was probably from the argument as much as anything, but that didn't make sense either. They had argued many times in the last few years, usually over small things, and when they were speaking again things went right back to normal. He couldn't figure out why this felt so different. He had been so anxious to get back to see her. It amazed him that now, when he was here, he had no idea what to say. He didn't know if he should bring up the subject, or work around it. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and in the process his caution was making him miserable. She was his best friend, and he should be able to talk to her. That was, after all, what had started this whole mess in the beginning. He had just wanted to share this part of his life with her. Now, he just wished it could all go away, and be back to the way it had been. At the very least, he realized why his father had kept secrets for so many years. CJ finally managed to reign in his wandering thoughts enough to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth, found his shorts in his suitcase, and dressed for bed. Before laying down, he crept out into the hall, and down to his parent's room. He paused a moment at their closed door, considering, then he knocked quietly. After a moment, his father's voice called out, rather breathless, "What do you need, CJ?" "I just wanted to say good night." CJ heard rustling, then was startled when his mother opened the door. She enveloped him in the kind of hug that he had loved as a child, and tolerated as an adolescent. CJ hugged back, as much for his own pleasure as for hers. "I missed you, Sweetie." "I missed you, too, Mom." "Good night, Son," Clark called, still in the bed. "Night, Dad." While CJ headed back to his room, Lois climbed back into her bed next to Clark. "That was unusual," she remarked. "Usually, I have to hold him down to get a hug, or even a 'good night' for that matter." "Maybe he missed us," Clark mused, as he put his arm around his wife's waist. He tugged gently, pulling her into the cradle of his body. He sighed softly as she wiggled her bottom into his groin. "You keep that up, and I'll have to finish what we started before CJ came in." "Well," Lois smiled, "you do what you have to do." She wiggled her bottom against him once more for emphasis. "You do know how to get into trouble, don't you." Clark grinned broadly as Lois looked over her shoulder at him. "I do try," she assured him with a kiss. "I do try." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The next morning, CJ was up with the sun. He put away the clothes that he had taken to Smallville, then he made his way into the kitchen. "You're early," Lois commented. "I didn't eat much dinner," CJ replied as he grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table. "I figured if I got up early enough Dad might make breakfast." "Sorry, Sweetie. Your dad had to leave early." "Is there a problem at the paper?" Lois considered a moment before answering her son. They had never liked lying to him about Clark's mysterious disappearances, but it had become a habit. It would be impossible to trust a small child with the secret. CJ had an incredible pride in his father to begin with. If they had added the knowledge that his father was really Superman, it would have spread trough the sandbox and into the school yard within days. They had begun making the excuses quite early, and then it had been a matter of not knowing when it would be appropriate to tell him the truth. When Clark had finally revealed to CJ the truth, it had changed the situation. They no longer had to lie to him, but Lois was still unsure how much of the truth to tell him. "There was a problem, but it wasn't with the paper," she explained. "He heard something on the television that he heeded to check out." "Oh," CJ said, quietly. He seemed to forget that his father was Superman. He knew about his father's powers, that much was easy to take, but he had thought about Superman as another person for so long that he found it impossible to combine the two images in his mind. "I guess that means I'm cooking breakfast, then." "You and your father! You won't let me near a kitchen," Lois said with a smile. CJ returned her grin and replied, "That's because we value our health." Lois smacked her son playfully, marveling for a moment how much he was like his father. He had the same sense of humor, and the same gentle manner. He was beginning to look like his father as well, and as he stood in front of the stove frying French toast she was stunned. Dressed only in the shorts he had slept in, he clearly showed that his body was becoming more adult than she had realized. She wondered just how long she would have to wait before she had to really become worried about him. He had always been a beautiful child. His wide brown eyes and wavy dark hair should have looked decidedly average, but on him it did not. He had grown quite handsome in the last few years, and she was beginning to develop a motherly concern about his life. He was a good boy, true, but he was just a boy. The challenges of development were becoming greater by the day, and while she didn't worry about drugs or alcohol, she did worry about girls. CJ had excellent judgment, and was well able to decide what was not safe. He had a wonderful rapport with his parents, and was able to tell them anything. But, how would he react when girls started falling all over him? Lois had expressed her concern to Clark a few months ago, and he had just shrugged it off. Clark had never had difficulty fielding the advances of the women around him. He had been polite, but made it clear that he wasn't really interested. Clark assumed that CJ would have that same tact, combined with the knowledge of when and where to use it. Lois wasn't quite so sure. She had fallen into to many bad relationships, and she didn't want CJ to do the same. While he normally did show good judgment, he was only a boy. Lois set her concern aside for a moment as she watched her son fix the breakfast. Fortunately he also had his father's ability in the kitchen. Lois was certainly pleased with this as well. CJ was going to be a wonderful man, just as wonderful as his father. She was sure of it. She gratefully accepted the plate when he offered, and enjoyed the meal before getting dressed for work. CJ accepted his mother's departure with good grace. Since he had turned twelve, he had been what was termed as a "latch key" kid during the summers. He didn't mind the label, or the responsibility. He enjoyed having the time alone to write, and if it was unusual that a young boy didn't look for ways to get into trouble, CJ wasn't aware of it. He valued his parents opinions, and he worked hard to earn their respect. He had learned earlier than most teenagers that respect was a two way street, and if he wanted his parents to allow him to do as he wished, he needed to make his decisions responsibly. CJ quickly cleaned up the kitchen, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Glancing at the clock, he saw that Kat should be awake by now, and he went to his room to change. As he entered the room, he saw Kat sliding his window open from the outside. "Need something?" Kat jumped at least a foot, hitting her head on the window. She glared at CJ with a typical evil look. "You could warn a person, you know." She pulled her other leg through the window and up onto the window ledge, leaving behind the large tree limb that had served as her ladder up into CJ’s room. "Maybe, but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun." Somehow, seeing her there, joking like she had always done, reassured him that their relationship was not irrevocably damaged. It restored his comfort with her as nothing else could. CJ reached down to help her through the window. He placed his hands on her sides, and just lifted. Kat came quickly through the window, and found herself sitting on the ledge. She studied her friend for a moment, vaguely surprised that he looked the same as he always did. It wasn't that she had expected him to grow horns or anything, but her perception of him had changed enough that she almost expected to see a physical difference. "Thanks," she told him, "you really are strong." "I guess I am," he answered, even though it really wasn't a question. After a moment, with concern he asked, "Does that bother you?" Kat shifted uncomfortably. She looked up at him, but failed to allow her green eyes to meet his. He had been her best friend forever, but she was still dealing with the fact that he had lied to her. "How strong are you?" she asked. "Well, I'm not bench pressing cars, yet. My dad says he could do that at my age. I guess I'm pretty strong, though." "But, you can't fly?" "Not yet." Too bad," she offered. "That would be really neat." "I guess it would. Maybe I'll have my dad take me. I never really thought about it before." He moved to sit next to her on the window ledge, and leaned his head back against the window. "So, you don't even know what you can do, yet?" CJ sighed. He had known the questions were inevitable. He had even looked forward to them at first. He liked the idea of sharing his discoveries with a friend. His fear was that soon the abilities were all she would be able to see. It was his hope that discussing this with Kat would help him sort it all out, but that just didn't seem to be happening. In fact, the more she questioned, the less sure of himself he became. "My dad says that we have to learn as we go. I'm different than anyone else because I'm only half from Krypton, so there's no way to tell what I will turn out like." Kat considered the information for a moment. She had to keep reminding herself that this was her best friend. He kept throwing out terms and ideas that had no place in her orderly life, and she wasn't sure how to take it. CJ was not the person that she had always known, and that would take some getting used to. "Let's start with what you can do. What's the coolest thing, so far?" CJ thought about it for a moment. He had mixed feelings about his abilities. He appreciated the strength and speed, of course, but he wasn't sure that was the best thing. He liked being able to start fires with his sight, and hear his mother calling from a mile away, but they weren't the best thing either. Further, he wasn't sure he had explored all of his abilities yet, and the best might be yet to come. "It's cool to see through things," he told her. "I can tell who's on the other side of a door before I open it, and I can see if there are fish in the water before I choose a place to set up my fishing pole. Yeah, I guess the best is the vision." "You can see through anything but lead, right?" Kat asked, remembering what she had read about Superman. "Yeah. But most metals give me a little trouble. Dad said that might get better with time." "Can you see like that all the time?" Kat asked as she stood and crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed. "Not all the time," he answered. "I have to concentrate on it, really think hard. Even then, if I'm tired, it kind of fades in and out, like looking through a veil or something." "So, you can't always see through my clothes?" Kat finally addressed her primary area of concern. After all, it was uncomfortable enough to have your best friend be a boy, without wondering if he was literally undressing you all the time. CJ smiled, then laughed, not realizing that Kat had developed an angry expression on her face. "I only did it to prove a point, Kat. I don't care what color girl's underwear are." "It's not my underwear I'm worried about," Kat confided. "It worries me that you can see past the underwear if you want to." CJ's laugh softened into a gentle smile, a smile that would have stunned his mother in it's resemblance to his father. "You are my best friend. I would never embarrass you like that. It would be like sneaking into your bedroom or something, and I know that's just wrong. My parents taught me better than that." Kat smiled a little in return. She was both relived and a little disappointed that CJ was such a sweet friend. As they had gotten older, she knew that her friends though CJ was really cute, and she had begun to hope that someday they could be boyfriend and girlfriend, but she wasn't ready for the concept of loving an alien. ******************** Kat was just finishing up her shift at the convenience mart when she heard an unfamiliar voice. When she looked up, she saw a handsome boy, really cute, with huge blue eyes and a killer smile. "Hi, I'm Andy. I'm new here. My mom wanted me to pick up some batteries, and I don't see any." He flashed the killer smile once more, and Kat just stared. After a moment of standing there very much like an idiot, Kat finally processed beyond the boy's looks, and his words began to register. Andy failed to notice her glazed expression, or perhaps was too polite to mention it, but he waited patiently until she found her voice. "Batteries...ummm...well, what size do you need. We keep them behind the counter so no one will walk off with them. Not that you would do that, but that's just what we do." Kat attempted to cover her nervousness with babble, much as Lois would do, but she was unaware of how poorly it served that purpose. "Double A," Andy replied. He watched the girl nervously twirl her hair and fidget. She was kind of pretty. She had wavy brown hair that reached her shoulders and it had a pretty red shine to it. Her eyes were an unusual green, and they were really wide. She wasn’t fat, but she wasn't really skinny either. She looked like she was in shape, maybe she was a runner or something. In any case, she seemed sweet, and she wasn't bad to look at. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Kat stopped in the act of reaching for the batteries located beneath the counter. She thought briefly of CJ, but he wasn't really a boyfriend. He was her friend, and he was a boy, but that was about it. She wondered if he thought of her as a girlfriend, and decided that he didn't. He had certainly never said anything like that, and she didn't expect him to. "No boyfriend," she told him. "Why?" "I just wondered if you might want to go out. I don't know many things to do around here, but maybe we could catch a movie or something." He looked at her hopefully. She really was pretty, and he would like to get to know her. After a moment of thought, Kat decided that she had little to lose. He was nice looking, after all, and her dad had said that she should spend time with people other than CJ. "I'll have to ask my dad," she told him. "But, I would like to go out." Andy flashed the killer smile once more. He gave her his telephone number, and paid for the batteries before leaving the store. As soon as he had left, Kat called her father at work. While he was a little annoyed at being interrupted at work, he was pleased that Kat was showing interest in another boy. He felt that she was much too young to be getting serious about one boy, and while she insisted that her relationship with CJ was purely friendship, he had his doubts. He had little trust for teenage boys, vividly remembering being one himself, and he was worried for his daughter. It had been hard raising her alone, and if it had not been for the Kents he might not have managed it, but that didn't mean that he was ready to hand his daughter over to their son. Kat was thrilled that her dad had given her permission to go out, and she couldn't wait to call Andy. She waited on a few more customers, and then decided that it had been long enough for him to make it home. She dialed the number that he had given her, and was surprised when he answered the phone. She told him of her father's decision, and agreed to meet him at the small theater in town. She reminded herself that she didn't know him, so she didn't give him her home address. It made her feel just a little guilty when she called CJ to tell him that she would not be over to watch videotapes that night, but she rationalized that he wasn't really a boyfriend, so she shouldn't feel too bad. Oddly, he didn't ask her why she had to change her plans, he just agreed and told her that he hoped they might be able to do it soon. Kat spent hours getting ready for the "date". It was the first time that she had gone out with a boy when she wasn't part of a group, so it was special. When Andy arrived at her house to pick her up, she introduced him to her father. They seemed to get along well enough, and the meeting was short. Once that formality was taken care of, they left the house in Andy's car. It wasn't as nice as CJ's truck, and didn't look as well kept up. Nevertheless, it drove well, and Kat soon found herself entering downtown Claremont, and heading toward the Ciniplex there. The little theatre specialized in older movies, classics really, and it was less expensive than one of the larger ones that showed the newest releases. The movie was really good. Kat enjoyed the thriller about the doomed ocean vessel, and regardless of knowing how the ending must be, and the fact that she had watched it a dozen times with CJ, she still cried when so many people died. Andy was fascinated with the special effects used in the movie, and was still talking about them with animation as they left the theater. Kat had liked being able to watch a movie with a friend, and if she was a little disappointed because the other girls in the audience had their boyfriend's arm around them, she didn't think about it too much. The return trip to her house was slightly more eventful. Just a few miles outside of the city, just before reaching the little suburb where she lived, Andy's car gave out. They pulled over at the side of the road, and decided that they would walk together to the nearest house. Andy didn't want to leave Kat alone in the car, so he took her with him. After several hundred yards, Kat twisted her ankle and fell on the side of the road. The joke had always been that the potholes here were big enough to eat a car, and that might be an exaggeration, but they truly were big enough to give a girl wearing high heels a bit of trouble. Kat screamed when she fell, and she really did try not to cry, but the pain was more than she could handle. She sobbed quietly as Andy tried to comfort her, and tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't leave her there, it was just as unsafe as leaving her in the car would have been. He also couldn't get her into town when she was crying so hard. He put his arms around her as she cried, and he considered his options. The decision was taken from him, though, as a very angry CJ pulled up in his truck, and stopped with a squeal of tires. CJ had heard Kat's scream. He didn't know how he had heard it, and known instantly that it was her, but he had. He had recognized her gasp of pain instantly, and her sobs had torn at his heart. He had barely remembered to get in his truck, rather than just running out of the house at top speed. He had managed to get in the truck, and race to her rescue, without revealing his powers to the neighborhood. When the truck skidded to a stop, CJ leapt out quickly. What he saw was Kat sitting on the ground with Andy crouched over her. Kat was crying, and that was all CJ needed to know. As quickly as he could, he tackled Andy over Kat's head. He took the larger boy to the ground, and was proceeding to knock the stuffing out of him when a deep voice called his name from behind him. CJ didn't hear the voice, but he did feel the hands of Superman as he picked the teenager up and relocated him a safe distance away from Andy. Kat was still trying to figure out exactly what had happened. One minute, she had been hurting, but otherwise safe with Andy, and the next she was watching her best friend knock him senseless. Finally, she realized that CJ must have realized that she was in trouble, and just mistaken what that trouble was. She attempted to go to Andy's aide, but Superman's large hand held her back. "Would you care to explain what is going on here, young man?" Clark said in his sternest voice. In truth, the sternness wasn't only for effect, he was furious that CJ had driven so recklessly. "He hurt Kat," CJ sputtered. Both Kat and Andy looked at CJ with shocked expressions, and quickly denied that this was the case. It took several minutes of explaining to clear up the situation, and apologies took several minutes more. CJ was caught between what remained of his anger, something he didn't understand, and embarrassment over what he had done. Clark, too, was angry, but this was more due to his fear for his son's behavior than what might have happened between Andy and Kat. When the discussion finally ended, Clark flew Kat to the nearest emergency room to have her ankle x-rayed, and CJ drove Andy to the Claremont garage to arrange to have the car towed. The boys did talk some on the way to the garage. CJ apologized sheepishly once more, and Andy accepted the apology while rubbing the jaw that would soon bruise. When the reached the garage, Andy spoke before getting out of the truck. "Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?" he asked. CJ looked up in surprise. "Nah," he told him, "but she is my best friend, and I'd do anything for her." The look he gave Andy was still slightly threatening, and Andy took the hint. He nodded briefly before exiting the vehicle. CJ drove home slowly and carefully, and was quite relieved to see that his father wasn't yet home. He slipped up the stairs and entered his bedroom quietly. He turned off his television, which was now showing a different program than what he had been watching when Kat had screamed, and changed into some shorts to sleep in. His last thought before drifting off to sleep was that Andy had been lucky that Superman had shown up. He didn't really know how much damage he could have done if he hadn't been stopped, and Andy hadn't really had a chance. CJ was sure that his father would have a good deal to say about what had happened. He had used his strength carelessly, and someone could have been hurt. What's more, he could have been revealed as an alien, and that would have put the entire family in danger. CJ figured he was looking at least a month of grounding, but he decided it was worth it. After all, Kat had needed help. Maybe not the kind he had given, but the situation had worked out for the best. Now, if only he could convince his father of that. ***** continued tomorrow in chapter 5 ***** ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 10:56:13 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: JCWimmer Subject: Fanfic: Full Circle: Chapter 4: Part 1 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit It has come to my attention that Chapter 4 is too long for a single e-mail. I will divide it in half, and send it out in two parts for those of you who cannot recieve attachments. I apologize for any inconvienience. I am new at this :) Thanks for you patience, Crystal Wimmer Chapter 4 CJ spent most of the next day cleaning up the room he had been staying in, his father's old room, and the loading the cab of his truck with the necessities of a long trip. His Grandmother prepared him a huge batch of brownies to take home to his mother, and several other tasty snacks for himself. Once the truck was ready to go, he spent what was left of the day with his grandfather grandfather. CJ had always enjoyed spending time at the farm, and the last several weeks had been fun, but he wanted to be back at home with Kat. Now that he knew she didn't hate him, he was anxious to get back into his relationship with his best friend. Jonathan understood CJ's need, and tolerated the decision with good humor. Frankly, Jonathan had expected CJ to become bored with the farm before this time, and that would have happened if CJ hadn't spent so much time developing his abilities while he was there. Martha insisted that CJ wait until the next morning to leave for Metropolis. She had a great deal of confidence in his driving skills, and she was willing to allow him to make the drive alone, but she did not want him making the drive in the dark. CJ was disappointed that he would have to wait, but he was indeed proud that his grandparents would let him make the drive without his father at all. Martha and Jonathan had always been more supportive of his independence than his parents, but he believed that this was because they had already raised their child, and understood the value of independence. It wasn't that Lois or Clark was stifling, just that they were protective. When the morning came, and all the good-byes were said, CJ drove back to his home in Claremont. He was tired, but proud when he arrived at home just before dark, and he was also glad to see his parents. He spent a great deal of time telling them about his adventures on the farm, and explaining how his powers were developing. Clark made a point to remind him of keeping the abilities secret, but CJ was already learning to cover his increasing strength and speed. Once his parents were finished quizzing him, CJ made his way into his bedroom. He spent a few minutes writing in his journal, then he picked up his phone. He had been waiting all day to make this call, and he couldn't wait any longer. Kat answered on the third ring, "Hello?" "Hey, Kat. I'm home, now." CJ was stumbling over his words. He suddenly felt so stupid. "That's great. How was your trip?" "It was cool," CJ stumbled. "I guess I'm tired, but it was fun coming back by myself. I didn't feel so much like a baby." "Is something wrong, CJ?" CJ squirmed a bit more, "No. I don't think so. I'm just tired." "Well, maybe you should get some sleep, then." "I guess so. Good night, Kat." "Night, CJ." CJ hung up the phone feeling confused and shaken. He had always been able to talk to Kat, and he didn't know what the problem was. It wasn't supposed to make a difference, this change in his life. Kat had apparently dealt with it, and it wasn't bothering her any more. At least, she hadn't mentioned it. He was the one who was feeling uncomfortable and awkward. He supposed it was probably from the argument as much as anything, but that didn't make sense either. They had argued many times in the last few years, usually over small things, and when they were speaking again things went right back to normal. He couldn't figure out why this felt so different. He had been so anxious to get back to see her. It amazed him that now, when he was here, he had no idea what to say. He didn't know if he should bring up the subject, or work around it. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and in the process his caution was making him miserable. She was his best friend, and he should be able to talk to her. That was, after all, what had started this whole mess in the beginning. He had just wanted to share this part of his life with her. Now, he just wished it could all go away, and be back to the way it had been. At the very least, he realized why his father had kept secrets for so many years. CJ finally managed to reign in his wandering thoughts enough to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth, found his shorts in his suitcase, and dressed for bed. Before laying down, he crept out into the hall, and down to his parent's room. He paused a moment at their closed door, considering, then he knocked quietly. After a moment, his father's voice called out, rather breathless, "What do you need, CJ?" "I just wanted to say good night." CJ heard rustling, then was startled when his mother opened the door. She enveloped him in the kind of hug that he had loved as a child, and tolerated as an adolescent. CJ hugged back, as much for his own pleasure as for hers. "I missed you, Sweetie." "I missed you, too, Mom." "Good night, Son," Clark called, still in the bed. "Night, Dad." While CJ headed back to his room, Lois climbed back into her bed next to Clark. "That was unusual," she remarked. "Usually, I have to hold him down to get a hug, or even a 'good night' for that matter." "Maybe he missed us," Clark mused, as he put his arm around his wife's waist. He tugged gently, pulling her into the cradle of his body. He sighed softly as she wiggled her bottom into his groin. "You keep that up, and I'll have to finish what we started before CJ came in." "Well," Lois smiled, "you do what you have to do." She wiggled her bottom against him once more for emphasis. "You do know how to get into trouble, don't you." Clark grinned broadly as Lois looked over her shoulder at him. "I do try," she assured him with a kiss. "I do try." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The next morning, CJ was up with the sun. He put away the clothes that he had taken to Smallville, then he made his way into the kitchen. "You're early," Lois commented. "I didn't eat much dinner," CJ replied as he grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table. "I figured if I got up early enough Dad might make breakfast." "Sorry, Sweetie. Your dad had to leave early." "Is there a problem at the paper?" Lois considered a moment before answering her son. They had never liked lying to him about Clark's mysterious disappearances, but it had become a habit. It would be impossible to trust a small child with the secret. CJ had an incredible pride in his father to begin with. If they had added the knowledge that his father was really Superman, it would have spread trough the sandbox and into the school yard within days. They had begun making the excuses quite early, and then it had been a matter of not knowing when it would be appropriate to tell him the truth. When Clark had finally revealed to CJ the truth, it had changed the situation. They no longer had to lie to him, but Lois was still unsure how much of the truth to tell him. "There was a problem, but it wasn't with the paper," she explained. "He heard something on the television that he heeded to check out." "Oh," CJ said, quietly. He seemed to forget that his father was Superman. He knew about his father's powers, that much was easy to take, but he had thought about Superman as another person for so long that he found it impossible to combine the two images in his mind. "I guess that means I'm cooking breakfast, then." "You and your father! You won't let me near a kitchen," Lois said with a smile. CJ returned her grin and replied, "That's because we value our health." Lois smacked her son playfully, marveling for a moment how much he was like his father. He had the same sense of humor, and the same gentle manner. He was beginning to look like his father as well, and as he stood in front of the stove frying French toast she was stunned. Dressed only in the shorts he had slept in, he clearly showed that his body was becoming more adult than she had realized. She wondered just how long she would have to wait before she had to really become worried about him. He had always been a beautiful child. His wide brown eyes and wavy dark hair should have looked decidedly average, but on him it did not. He had grown quite handsome in the last few years, and she was beginning to develop a motherly concern about his life. He was a good boy, true, but he was just a boy. The challenges of development were becoming greater by the day, and while she didn't worry about drugs or alcohol, she did worry about girls. CJ had excellent judgment, and was well able to decide what was not safe. He had a wonderful rapport with his parents, and was able to tell them anything. But, how would he react when girls started falling all over him? Lois had expressed her concern to Clark a few months ago, and he had just shrugged it off. Clark had never had difficulty fielding the advances of the women around him. He had been polite, but made it clear that he wasn't really interested. Clark assumed that CJ would have that same tact, combined with the knowledge of when and where to use it. Lois wasn't quite so sure. She had fallen into to many bad relationships, and she didn't want CJ to do the same. While he normally did show good judgment, he was only a boy. Lois set her concern aside for a moment as she watched her son fix the breakfast. Fortunately he also had his father's ability in the kitchen. Lois was certainly pleased with this as well. CJ was going to be a wonderful man, just as wonderful as his father. She was sure of it. She gratefully accepted the plate when he offered, and enjoyed the meal before getting dressed for work. CJ accepted his mother's departure with good grace. Since he had turned twelve, he had been what was termed as a "latch key" kid during the summers. He didn't mind the label, or the responsibility. He enjoyed having the time alone to write, and if it was unusual that a young boy didn't look for ways to get into trouble, CJ wasn't aware of it. He valued his parents opinions, and he worked hard to earn their respect. He had learned earlier than most teenagers that respect was a two way street, and if he wanted his parents to allow him to do as he wished, he needed to make his decisions responsibly. CJ quickly cleaned up the kitchen, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Glancing at the clock, he saw that Kat should be awake by now, and he went to his room to change. As he entered the room, he saw Kat sliding his window open from the outside. "Need something?" Kat jumped at least a foot, hitting her head on the window. She glared at CJ with a typical evil look. "You could warn a person, you know." She pulled her other leg through the window and up onto the window ledge, leaving behind the large tree limb that had served as her ladder up into CJ’s room. "Maybe, but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun." Somehow, seeing her there, joking like she had always done, reassured him that their relationship was not irrevocably damaged. It restored his comfort with her as nothing else could. CJ reached down to help her through the window. He placed his hands on her sides, and just lifted. Kat came quickly through the window, and found herself sitting on the ledge. She studied her friend for a moment, vaguely surprised that he looked the same as he always did. It wasn't that she had expected him to grow horns or anything, but her perception of him had changed enough that she almost expected to see a physical difference. "Thanks," she told him, "you really are strong." "I guess I am," he answered, even though it really wasn't a question. After a moment, with concern he asked, "Does that bother you?" Kat shifted uncomfortably. She looked up at him, but failed to allow her green eyes to meet his. He had been her best friend forever, but she was still dealing with the fact that he had lied to her. "How strong are you?" she asked. "Well, I'm not bench pressing cars, yet. My dad says he could do that at my age. I guess I'm pretty strong, though." "But, you can't fly?" "Not yet." Too bad," she offered. "That would be really neat." "I guess it would. Maybe I'll have my dad take me. I never really thought about it before." He moved to sit next to her on the window ledge, and leaned his head back against the window. "So, you don't even know what you can do, yet?" CJ sighed. He had known the questions were inevitable. He had even looked forward to them at first. He liked the idea of sharing his discoveries with a friend. His fear was that soon the abilities were all she would be able to see. It was his hope that discussing this with Kat would help him sort it all out, but that just didn't seem to be happening. In fact, the more she questioned, the less sure of himself he became. "My dad says that we have to learn as we go. I'm different than anyone else because I'm only half from Krypton, so there's no way to tell what I will turn out like." Kat considered the information for a moment. She had to keep reminding herself that this was her best friend. He kept throwing out terms and ideas that had no place in her orderly life, and she wasn't sure how to take it. CJ was not the person that she had always known, and that would take some getting used to. "Let's start with what you can do. What's the coolest thing, so far?" ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 10:58:18 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: JCWimmer Subject: Fanfic: Full Circle: Chapter 4: Part 2 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit It has come to my attention that Chapter 4 is too long for a single e-mail. I will divide it in half, and send it out in two parts for those of you who cannot recieve attachments. I apologize for any inconvienience. I am new at this :) Thanks for you patience, Crystal Wimmer It has come to my attention that Chapter 4 is too long for a single e-mail. I will divide it in half, and send it out in two parts for those of you who cannot recieve attachments. I apologize for any inconvienience. I am new at this :) Thanks for you patience, Crystal Wimmer CJ thought about it for a moment. He had mixed feelings about his abilities. He appreciated the strength and speed, of course, but he wasn't sure that was the best thing. He liked being able to start fires with his sight, and hear his mother calling from a mile away, but they weren't the best thing either. Further, he wasn't sure he had explored all of his abilities yet, and the best might be yet to come. "It's cool to see through things," he told her. "I can tell who's on the other side of a door before I open it, and I can see if there are fish in the water before I choose a place to set up my fishing pole. Yeah, I guess the best is the vision." "You can see through anything but lead, right?" Kat asked, remembering what she had read about Superman. "Yeah. But most metals give me a little trouble. Dad said that might get better with time." "Can you see like that all the time?" Kat asked as she stood and crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed. "Not all the time," he answered. "I have to concentrate on it, really think hard. Even then, if I'm tired, it kind of fades in and out, like looking through a veil or something." "So, you can't always see through my clothes?" Kat finally addressed her primary area of concern. After all, it was uncomfortable enough to have your best friend be a boy, without wondering if he was literally undressing you all the time. CJ smiled, then laughed, not realizing that Kat had developed an angry expression on her face. "I only did it to prove a point, Kat. I don't care what color girl's underwear are." "It's not my underwear I'm worried about," Kat confided. "It worries me that you can see past the underwear if you want to." CJ's laugh softened into a gentle smile, a smile that would have stunned his mother in it's resemblance to his father. "You are my best friend. I would never embarrass you like that. It would be like sneaking into your bedroom or something, and I know that's just wrong. My parents taught me better than that." Kat smiled a little in return. She was both relived and a little disappointed that CJ was such a sweet friend. As they had gotten older, she knew that her friends though CJ was really cute, and she had begun to hope that someday they could be boyfriend and girlfriend, but she wasn't ready for the concept of loving an alien. ******************** Kat was just finishing up her shift at the convenience mart when she heard an unfamiliar voice. When she looked up, she saw a handsome boy, really cute, with huge blue eyes and a killer smile. "Hi, I'm Andy. I'm new here. My mom wanted me to pick up some batteries, and I don't see any." He flashed the killer smile once more, and Kat just stared. After a moment of standing there very much like an idiot, Kat finally processed beyond the boy's looks, and his words began to register. Andy failed to notice her glazed expression, or perhaps was too polite to mention it, but he waited patiently until she found her voice. "Batteries...ummm...well, what size do you need. We keep them behind the counter so no one will walk off with them. Not that you would do that, but that's just what we do." Kat attempted to cover her nervousness with babble, much as Lois would do, but she was unaware of how poorly it served that purpose. "Double A," Andy replied. He watched the girl nervously twirl her hair and fidget. She was kind of pretty. She had wavy brown hair that reached her shoulders and it had a pretty red shine to it. Her eyes were an unusual green, and they were really wide. She wasn’t fat, but she wasn't really skinny either. She looked like she was in shape, maybe she was a runner or something. In any case, she seemed sweet, and she wasn't bad to look at. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Kat stopped in the act of reaching for the batteries located beneath the counter. She thought briefly of CJ, but he wasn't really a boyfriend. He was her friend, and he was a boy, but that was about it. She wondered if he thought of her as a girlfriend, and decided that he didn't. He had certainly never said anything like that, and she didn't expect him to. "No boyfriend," she told him. "Why?" "I just wondered if you might want to go out. I don't know many things to do around here, but maybe we could catch a movie or something." He looked at her hopefully. She really was pretty, and he would like to get to know her. After a moment of thought, Kat decided that she had little to lose. He was nice looking, after all, and her dad had said that she should spend time with people other than CJ. "I'll have to ask my dad," she told him. "But, I would like to go out." Andy flashed the killer smile once more. He gave her his telephone number, and paid for the batteries before leaving the store. As soon as he had left, Kat called her father at work. While he was a little annoyed at being interrupted at work, he was pleased that Kat was showing interest in another boy. He felt that she was much too young to be getting serious about one boy, and while she insisted that her relationship with CJ was purely friendship, he had his doubts. He had little trust for teenage boys, vividly remembering being one himself, and he was worried for his daughter. It had been hard raising her alone, and if it had not been for the Kents he might not have managed it, but that didn't mean that he was ready to hand his daughter over to their son. Kat was thrilled that her dad had given her permission to go out, and she couldn't wait to call Andy. She waited on a few more customers, and then decided that it had been long enough for him to make it home. She dialed the number that he had given her, and was surprised when he answered the phone. She told him of her father's decision, and agreed to meet him at the small theater in town. She reminded herself that she didn't know him, so she didn't give him her home address. It made her feel just a little guilty when she called CJ to tell him that she would not be over to watch videotapes that night, but she rationalized that he wasn't really a boyfriend, so she shouldn't feel too bad. Oddly, he didn't ask her why she had to change her plans, he just agreed and told her that he hoped they might be able to do it soon. Kat spent hours getting ready for the "date". It was the first time that she had gone out with a boy when she wasn't part of a group, so it was special. When Andy arrived at her house to pick her up, she introduced him to her father. They seemed to get along well enough, and the meeting was short. Once that formality was taken care of, they left the house in Andy's car. It wasn't as nice as CJ's truck, and didn't look as well kept up. Nevertheless, it drove well, and Kat soon found herself entering downtown Claremont, and heading toward the Ciniplex there. The little theatre specialized in older movies, classics really, and it was less expensive than one of the larger ones that showed the newest releases. The movie was really good. Kat enjoyed the thriller about the doomed ocean vessel, and regardless of knowing how the ending must be, and the fact that she had watched it a dozen times with CJ, she still cried when so many people died. Andy was fascinated with the special effects used in the movie, and was still talking about them with animation as they left the theater. Kat had liked being able to watch a movie with a friend, and if she was a little disappointed because the other girls in the audience had their boyfriend's arm around them, she didn't think about it too much. The return trip to her house was slightly more eventful. Just a few miles outside of the city, just before reaching the little suburb where she lived, Andy's car gave out. They pulled over at the side of the road, and decided that they would walk together to the nearest house. Andy didn't want to leave Kat alone in the car, so he took her with him. After several hundred yards, Kat twisted her ankle and fell on the side of the road. The joke had always been that the potholes here were big enough to eat a car, and that might be an exaggeration, but they truly were big enough to give a girl wearing high heels a bit of trouble. Kat screamed when she fell, and she really did try not to cry, but the pain was more than she could handle. She sobbed quietly as Andy tried to comfort her, and tried to figure out what to do. He couldn't leave her there, it was just as unsafe as leaving her in the car would have been. He also couldn't get her into town when she was crying so hard. He put his arms around her as she cried, and he considered his options. The decision was taken from him, though, as a very angry CJ pulled up in his truck, and stopped with a squeal of tires. CJ had heard Kat's scream. He didn't know how he had heard it, and known instantly that it was her, but he had. He had recognized her gasp of pain instantly, and her sobs had torn at his heart. He had barely remembered to get in his truck, rather than just running out of the house at top speed. He had managed to get in the truck, and race to her rescue, without revealing his powers to the neighborhood. When the truck skidded to a stop, CJ leapt out quickly. What he saw was Kat sitting on the ground with Andy crouched over her. Kat was crying, and that was all CJ needed to know. As quickly as he could, he tackled Andy over Kat's head. He took the larger boy to the ground, and was proceeding to knock the stuffing out of him when a deep voice called his name from behind him. CJ didn't hear the voice, but he did feel the hands of Superman as he picked the teenager up and relocated him a safe distance away from Andy. Kat was still trying to figure out exactly what had happened. One minute, she had been hurting, but otherwise safe with Andy, and the next she was watching her best friend knock him senseless. Finally, she realized that CJ must have realized that she was in trouble, and just mistaken what that trouble was. She attempted to go to Andy's aide, but Superman's large hand held her back. "Would you care to explain what is going on here, young man?" Clark said in his sternest voice. In truth, the sternness wasn't only for effect, he was furious that CJ had driven so recklessly. "He hurt Kat," CJ sputtered. Both Kat and Andy looked at CJ with shocked expressions, and quickly denied that this was the case. It took several minutes of explaining to clear up the situation, and apologies took several minutes more. CJ was caught between what remained of his anger, something he didn't understand, and embarrassment over what he had done. Clark, too, was angry, but this was more due to his fear for his son's behavior than what might have happened between Andy and Kat. When the discussion finally ended, Clark flew Kat to the nearest emergency room to have her ankle x-rayed, and CJ drove Andy to the Claremont garage to arrange to have the car towed. The boys did talk some on the way to the garage. CJ apologized sheepishly once more, and Andy accepted the apology while rubbing the jaw that would soon bruise. When the reached the garage, Andy spoke before getting out of the truck. "Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?" he asked. CJ looked up in surprise. "Nah," he told him, "but she is my best friend, and I'd do anything for her." The look he gave Andy was still slightly threatening, and Andy took the hint. He nodded briefly before exiting the vehicle. CJ drove home slowly and carefully, and was quite relieved to see that his father wasn't yet home. He slipped up the stairs and entered his bedroom quietly. He turned off his television, which was now showing a different program than what he had been watching when Kat had screamed, and changed into some shorts to sleep in. His last thought before drifting off to sleep was that Andy had been lucky that Superman had shown up. He didn't really know how much damage he could have done if he hadn't been stopped, and Andy hadn't really had a chance. CJ was sure that his father would have a good deal to say about what had happened. He had used his strength carelessly, and someone could have been hurt. What's more, he could have been revealed as an alien, and that would have put the entire family in danger. CJ figured he was looking at least a month of grounding, but he decided it was worth it. After all, Kat had needed help. Maybe not the kind he had given, but the situation had worked out for the best. Now, if only he could convince his father of that. ***** continued tomorrow in chapter 5 ***** ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 17:13:03 +0100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: NK Wolke Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7BIT Hi Folcs, I must admit I'm a little disappointed about the time-schedule for the Kerth award. I'm one of these unlucky Europeans who simply can't stay awake a whole night. I hoped I would be able to be at least at the start of the ceremony, you know - hear the music, see the stars arrive and so on , but if the party starts at 2.00 am there will be no chance for me. It's usually the time when I can't fight my need for sleep anymore no matter how mutch I try :( Wouldn't it be possible to start at least one or two hours earlier? The Australian Fans maybe would miss the start but they would have the possibility to watch the largest part of the party (depending on how much they need to sleep in on Sundays :)) and we Europeans could watch the start. Hey, even the Oscars start at 1.00 am here ;) If that's not possible, are you planning to post the winners on the list? I'm so curious who made it in the different categories! Maybe you could also post a log somewhere so it wouldn't be *so* bad to miss it! take care all Nicole AKA Ckgroupie on IRC NKWolke@t-online.de ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:18:33 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pam Jernigan Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time Comments: To: Blind.Copy.Receiver@compuserve.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Hey Nicky, >> if the party starts at 2.00 am there will be no chance for me. << Nothing's set in stone yet :-) I'm just trying to get us talking so that= we can find the best possible time for everyone. You and Doris have both= argued for an earlier start time, which would work for me. But yes, we will post a list of winners to this list and to various web pages, and the log of the ceremony will be available as well - I know I'm= planning to have it on my page, and I think several others are as well. = So for those who can't make it, you'll still get to see the results! :-) BREAKING NEWS: I've talked with Leanne, and we now believe that we can definitely set the date for March 28th (or early morning the 29th in some parts of the world ). So you can factor that into your planning. I'm still taking volunteers to present awards... but the cut-off date will have to be Tuesday (23rd) so that I can finalize the line up for the= ceremony. If you've been meaning to speak up but haven't gotten around to= it... hurry up! :) PJ !^NavFont02F03380015MGHHGQMGSHG3DMG3FHJ3AA6E2 E-mail from: Pam Jernigan, 22-Mar-1998 jernigan@compuserve.com / ChiefPam on the IRC ~~~~~ Fanfic writer, Kerth co-coordinator, busy mom :-) http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jernigan/folc.html ~~~~~ "[You want to know] what's the Mountie like? He's Superman, alright?" --Due South, Red White or Blue ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 23 Mar 1998 06:49:36 +1100 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Jenny Stosser Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time In-Reply-To: <199803221219_MC2-379B-89B1@compuserve.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 12:18 PM 22/03/98 -0500, Pam Jernigan discussed the timing of the awards with Nicky and Doris: Hey folcs, I'm an aussie and as far as I'm concerned, this particular sunday, the earlier the better for me, as I happen to be working this sunday from 8am to 5pm! (So unless I happen to win an award between 6.30am and 7.30am, I won't be there to accept it :( ) Should I make my acceptance speech now? -- Jenny Stosser -*- jenerate@ozramp.net.au -*- (Jenerator or Some1Else on IRC) This message is umop ap!sdn -*- David is 5 and Megan is 2! Photos on the Stosser Family HomePage: http://geocities.com/Heartland/Estates/4583 Please sign our guestbook! ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 15:00:19 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: I go where the ocean is deep Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time Nicole wrote: > If that's not possible, are you planning to post the winners on the list? I'm > so curious who made it in the different categories! Maybe you could also post > a log somewhere so it wouldn't be *so* bad to miss it! I was also wondering if anyone knew what order the awards would be presented in. (Will they be presented in the order they appeared on the ballot?) This would especially help presenters/nominees/counters so they can make sure they're online while their category is being presented, even if they aren't able to be there the whole time. -Christy kubitc@kenyon.edu ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 16:10:36 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pam Jernigan Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time Comments: To: Blind.Copy.Receiver@compuserve.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 >> I was also wondering if anyone knew what order the awards would be presented in. (Will they be presented in the order they appeared on the ballot?) << Yes, they will - MC Erin is putting together a bare-bones program that will appear on my webpage soon (my URL is in my sig :-) but basically, we'll follow the ballot order, with a break after every 7 categories (commercial breaks ;-) Later this week, I'll send out a schedule to all the presenters so they'v= e an idea of when they'll be on stage, and if that time isn't good for them= , they can talk to me and we'll get them to a better part of the ceremony. = (I've already had one presenter say she can't be here before 8pm Eastern,= so she'll be matched up with one of the last categories). While people are contemplating all this, by the way, keep in mind that it's very unlikely that this thing will be less than 2 hours long. And i= t could go way longer, if the IRC round robin sessions are any guide... = PJ !^NavFont02F030C000EMGJHG7CMG7EHJT7B11 E-mail from: Pam Jernigan, 22-Mar-1998 jernigan@compuserve.com / ChiefPam on the IRC ~~~~~ Fanfic writer, Kerth co-coordinator, busy mom :-) http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jernigan/folc.html ~~~~~ "[You want to know] what's the Mountie like? He's Superman, alright?" --Due South, Red White or Blue ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 23 Mar 1998 08:50:17 +1000 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: A Vukovic Subject: Re: Kerth Ceremony Date/Time In-Reply-To: Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" At 12:13 AM 3/22/98 PST, you wrote: >March 28, 1998, 8 p.m. EST works for me. As an Aussie, I am fine with it starting 2 or 3 hours earlier to let the Europeans have a nose in. I will be attending for part of the ceremony, and the earlier in the day the less it takes out of my Sunday... you know beach, sun and all that. Gotta love this heatwave we are having so late in the season. Adrienne _________________________________________________________________________ Adrienne VUKOVIC aev@cia.com.au _________________________________________________________________________ "How can you be so blind, Lois? I mean, you look right at the guy, and still you don't have a clue who he really is." Clark Kent to Lois Lane: BatP, "Lois and Clark:TNAOS" _________________________________________________________________________ ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 16:57:10 -0500 Reply-To: NightSky@erols.com Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Genevieve Subject: Yet Each Man Kills (Part 1 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Now that you are done re-reading Kerth nominees, I've got a new story to offer all of you. This is the first full-length story I've ever written, and I'd really like to know what you all think about it. It's not an incredibly cheerful story -- I'm just not a cheerful person, I guess -- but I did try to include some WaFFs for all of the FoLCs who love WaFFs so much. So if there are any parts of this story that make you feel WAFFY -- or moved to tears -- or smile, or that make you shake your head in sheer disbelief that I could think Lois or Clark could ever act in *that* way, I'd like to hear about it. This story was distributed last Sunday as part of TUFS. I apologize to those of you who got this twice. It's a very stand-alone episode, so don't feel like you have to have been keeping up with the TUFS stories to read this one. -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Yet Each Man Kills" E-Mail 1 of 4 By Genevieve Clemens (NightSky@erols.com) -------------------------------------------------------------------- Lois Lane stretched out her feet luxuriously as her husband's hands massaged her calves and ankles. If she were a cat, she would have purred. Her arms rested upon her swollen belly; she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "That feels soooo good," she said. Clark Kent slipped her shoes off and began massaging her feet as well. "You worked awfully hard today, covering that press conference at city hall," he said. "You probably should have let someone else cover it, maybe Jimmy." Lois's eyes flew open. "Oh, Clark, don't be silly. It was a boring conference, true, but it was my turn to take the next boring, nothing important, news assignment. No one can say I'm not a team player. And it's not as if we had anything more important to cover. No mad scientists trying to destroy the world..." "No vampires flying through the city," Clark picked up on her train of thought. "And no nosy corporation planting fake relatives on us," Lois continued. "And no major crime waves -- unless you count these department store robberies," Clark finished. "But you're on your feet too much, running around all day," he went on. "I can see how tired you are, when you finally get home at night." "Clark, I'm pregnant -- I'm supposed to be tired. All the books say so. I'll let you in on a secret, though, if you promise not to stop doing that." She gestured towards his hands, still moving methodically on her legs. "Promise," he said with a smile. "Pregnant ladies are never on their feet too much," she said. "Everyone offers me a chair -- even rude, obnoxious Donald Stuart from the Star offered me his front row seat today at the press conference. People give you seats in the subway, let you take their taxis..." "Better enjoy that now," Clark said with a smile. "I understand that ladies close to delivering have trouble getting cabs; the taxi drivers are afraid they'll have the baby in the cab." "That's terrible!" exclaimed Lois, outraged. "Discrimination. And besides, we have weeks to go before we get to that point." "Getting closer every day," Clark said. "Don't remind me!" said Lois. "I've got way too much to do before this baby gets here. It's much less trouble where it is now - - inside and quiet." "Well," said Clark, standing up. "Right now, what you have to do is rest while I go into the kitchen and start din...ner." Lois looked up as Clark's voice trailed off. With a feeling of resignation she recognized the distracted look on his face. "What do you hear?" she asked. "I'm not sure," he replied. "Someone's in trouble -- and it sounds really close -- on our street maybe." Lois stared as her husband disappeared into a whirlwind of blurring colors, to be replaced by a familiar figure in red, blue, and yellow. "Stay right here and rest," he said. "I'll be right back to make dinner." A whoosh of air stirred the curtains and her hair. Lois found herself alone in the room, although a blanket had magically appeared over her. With a heavy sigh, Lois snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes, content to rest and wait for her husband to return. ********** Superman hovered in the air outside the house, listening intently. He finally focused in on the third-floor apartment in a converted brownstone, two houses down the street from the Kents'. Focusing his eyes inside, he saw a large man backhand a woman, knocking her against the table. Without another thought, he flew through the open window and caught the man's arm just as he was about to hit the woman again. "That's enough," he said, in the cool, emotionless voice he had cultivated as Superman, although he could feel anger bubbling deep inside him. He looked at the woman, staring at him stunned, her cheek bright red where she had been struck. "You'd better call the police." "Yes, I...I will," she answered. "Thank you." As she went to the telephone, the man found his voice. "You got no right!" he exclaimed angrily. "No right bursting in here and..." "Be quiet," Superman said. He spied a chair and used just enough force to propel the man into it, noticing with a guilty enjoyment that the chair moved a few inches under the impact. "We'll see what happens when the police get here." "Yes," said the man ominously, staring at the woman. "When the police get here." The woman wouldn't meet his eyes. She moved slowly, painfully, walking without a word to a chair, where she sat down, staring at the floor. It wasn't long before they heard the police coming up the stairs. Superman listened to their conversation as they came up the stairs. "Dispatch said *she* called this time?" a female voice asked. "Yep," was the succinct answer. "Maybe this time she's decided to do something," the officer replied. A second later, came the loud knocking at the door. "Police!" The woman stood up and answered the door. The female police officer looked quietly at her bruised face. "Mrs. Chiswick," she said. "Are you willing to press charges? We can arrest him." "Yes," said the woman defiantly. "I want him arrested. He came barging in here and assaulted my husband. There must be laws against that. I want him arrested. Superman's mouth dropped open in shock, as he realized the woman was pointing directly at him. In the sudden silence that followed the woman's frenzied accusation, the police officers seemed to notice Superman for the first time. The second police officer, who had been standing quietly in the doorway, entered the room. "Superman," he said, "I'm Officer Potter. This is Officer Heelis. The Chiswicks already know us. Can you tell us what happened?" Superman somehow managed to find his voice. "I was...passing by," he said, not willing to admit that he lived two doors down the street. "I heard the sounds of violence and saw this man," he gestured at Chiswick, "strike her. So I came in, restrained him, and suggested that she call the police. She did." "And I want *him* arrested," Mrs. Chiswick said. "He can't just come busting in here, interrupting a private moment between husband and wife, can he?" Officer Potter shook his head. "Superman, would you step outside with me? I'll get your statement." He glanced at his partner. "Talk to her," he murmured, nodding his head towards Mrs. Chiswick. Superman walked with the officer down the stairs and out into the street, still shocked by the turn events had taken. "He hit her hard enough to knock her into the wall," he said incredulously. Potter grimaced. "We've been here before. Sometimes it gets too loud and the neighbors call. She never admits what happens." He looked up at Superman. "Don't worry about it. You did the right thing, especially since you didn't know what was going on." The other officer came out. "She decided not to have you arrested, Superman," she said. "Wants to sweep the whole thing under the rug, as usual." Superman looked up towards the building in concern, listening, but all was quiet. "There is nothing we can do, is there?" he asked. "No. I try to give her the name of a shelter, but she won't listen. He hasn't put her in the hospital yet. Until she decides to take action, our hands are tied." Superman didn't want to hang around any longer than he had to. >From their faces, he could tell that the two officers were also frustrated and wanted to forget about this situation as soon as possible. Helplessness didn't sit easily with any of them. Superman nodded to the officers in farewell and slowly rose into the sky. ********** Ron Chiswick watched Superman take off from the window of his apartment. Behind him he heard his wife setting the table for dinner -- his *late* dinner! -- but somehow, right now, he just didn't feel hungry. "Who does he think he is?" he muttered under his breath. "Coming in here and acting like he's some sort of God. This is *my* house." He turned around and glared at Sarah. "Gettin' to be like a man's not boss in his own home," he said angrily. "Every Tom, Dick, and Harry's comin' in here to tell us what to do." "Ron," Sarah pleaded. "The police were just here. We don't want them back." "What are you sayin'? That I don't know how to act?" "No, Ron! That's not what I'm saying at all." Tears stood in her eyes, as she looked at him apprehensively. "Damn it!" he exclaimed. "Police, Superman -- now even my *wife* is tellin' me what to do! This is *my* house, woman, and I'm in charge here. Me! The man! Do you understand?" He stalked over to her, anger apparent in his eyes. Sarah flinched as he came close, but stood her ground. Experience had taught her that running didn't help. Chiswick raised his arm as if to hit her, but the memory of the police came back. With a cry of rage, he swept the dishes off the table. The sound of the dinner crashing to the floor seemed to satisfy him. He grabbed his coat and headed to the door. "I'll be back." "Ron," Sarah timidly reminded him, "you've got that job interview tomorrow. Please don't get..." The door slammed shut behind her husband, and she whispered the last word to herself. "Drunk." She closed her eyes and bit her lip, feeling the tears welling up. Ron was so much more irritable when he was unemployed; he had more time to reflect upon life's unfairness and her own shortcomings. He hadn't gotten the last two jobs he'd interviewed for, and Sarah had put all her hopes on this job with the Albion Cleaning Service. Not only was he calmer when he was working, but he'd also be out of the house all night, cleaning local office buildings and department stores, giving her some much-needed privacy. Praying that her husband wouldn't get too drunk to show up at the interview tomorrow, Sarah Chiswick knelt down on the floor and began picking up the broken dishes. One eye was rapidly swelling shut; she could still taste the blood in her mouth from where her lip was cut, but as she put the larger pieces of glass into the trash, she told herself again that once her husband had a job, everything would be normal again. Resolutely, she silenced a nagging voice deep inside her that told her things were as normal as they were ever going to get. ********** About ten minutes after he had disappeared into the Metropolis sky, Superman landed quietly on the Kents' patio, a brown paper bag in his hand. Going into the kitchen, he set the bag on the table and whirled around. In an instant, Clark Kent stood there, holding his glasses in his hand. He stared intently at the wall for a moment and saw that his wife had dozed off on the sofa. Moving quickly -- so quickly, in fact, that human eyes would not have registered anything more than a blur -- he dumped out the contents of the bag. It was still early spring in Metropolis, and he'd taken a detour to warmer climes to get fresh vegetables. He heated water to boiling in a second, added rice, and set it to simmer on the stove. Even super- speed couldn't cook rice quickly. But it made short work of chopping and dicing the vegetables, and he made a quick stir fry for dinner. He brewed a herb tea that Lois had learned to...well, to tolerate. He couldn't actually say she liked it. He did, though; it was one he'd drunk when he'd traveled in the Far East. With the rice almost finished, he set the table and called his sleeping wife to dinner. Lois had finished her first serving and was reaching for seconds before she asked what had called him away earlier. Clark took a deep breath and thanked his lucky stars that his pregnant wife wasn't having any trouble with high blood pressure. They'd been together long enough -- as husband and wife and as partners at the Planet -- for him to know exactly how Lois would react to this story. "You mean, this woman -- whose husband is beating her to a pulp -- not only refuses to do anything about him, but tries to have *you* arrested?" "Well, honey, I wouldn't worry about that part of it. The police didn't take her very seriously at the time, and they did talk her into forgetting about pressing charges." "Well, I should think so," Lois said. "I mean, of all the ridiculous things -- but I'm not really upset about that. It's the fact that she's just staying there, letting him treat her like that and doing nothing! You said they live on our street? Which house? What's their name?" "Chiswick. They live two houses down, across the street. You know, the one that's obviously been turned into apartments. That building is terribly rundown, though. I've seen better apartments in slums like Hobbs Bay. "Rich, poor, whatever." Lois found that irrelevant. "I don't care. Things like this just shouldn't happen. There ought to be something we can do or..." Clark interrupted. "Lois, I understand how you feel. But sometimes there's nothing anyone can do to help someone who doesn't want to be helped." "Sometimes people just need to be told they need help. I'm a reporter. An article in the Planet may open her eyes." "I'll bet the Planet has published about a hundred articles on domestic violence over the years," Clark said. "She hasn't read my story," Lois answered. "There are no new stories, Clark," she went on to quote, "only..." "New angles," they finished together, with a smile. "My wife, the crusader." Clark said proudly. "But I should warn you, I didn't see a single newspaper in the apartment." "Maybe someone will read it to her," Lois said hopefully. ********** The next morning at the Daily Planet, Lois used that old quote again, trying to convince Perry that it was of earth-shattering importance that she write this article. Perry was skeptical. He'd seen Lois in her "change the world" mode before. Lois's work was always good, no question about that, but when she wrote this kind of article it tended to be emotional and ended up showing a decided bias that had to be edited out. And Lois had never really taken it well when he had to rework her articles. He considered, and decided that no matter how biased this article was, he'd publish it. There really was only one side in this case. He tuned in again to her tirade. "So if we could look at why these women just sit there and take it," she was saying, "instead of fighting back or..." She stopped as Perry held up his hand. "Lois," he said, "you're a good reporter; I know you can do a good story. It's not news, but if you want to write it up, go ahead. I'll keep it for the next time we need filler." "Thank you," Lois said, her voice getting higher as it tended to do when she got her own way. Perry stopped her as she turned to go. "Hey! Don't forget, this is secondary to your *real* job of writing the *news*. I want you and Jimmy to look into these department store robberies. There was another one last night." "Jimmy?" Lois questioned. "Why not Clark?" Perry raised his eyebrows. "In case you've forgotten, I leave at three this afternoon for London. That newspaper convention where I'm supposed to speak, remember? And when you all drew straws to see who'd get stuck in this office..." "Clark lost," Lois remembered, still feeling grateful that she hadn't. Her time spent editing the paper was not something she remembered with pleasure. "So work with Jimmy on this one." Perry said. "You're a great teacher; remember you taught Clark the ways of the big city, didn't you? And Jimmy has the same spark the two of you do. He's been doing great since his promotion." Lois nodded and Perry continued. "If you can squeeze the abuse story in, go ahead. There is no hurry on that one, so take your time. Don't overdo it, honey." Lois gave him an annoyed look as she left his office. Perry hid a smile. She was so prickly these days, taking umbrage at any hint that her pregnancy kept her from doing her job. And Perry had to admit, she hadn't slowed down a bit. Still attacking each story with the same enthusiasm she always had and positively glowing with health, she looked as striking as ever, more so perhaps. Perry turned back to his computer, secure in the knowledge that he'd soon have two great stories -- one breaking news with the byline "Lois Lane and James Olsen," and the other a tear-jerking filler story "by Lois Lane" -- and he'd bet even money that he'd have both stories by the end of the week. Lois left the office, looking for Jimmy. Not seeing him, she went over to Clark's desk. "Perry says I can write the spousal abuse story if I can fit it in with those department store robberies, too," she told him. "Where's Jimmy?" "You going to be working with him?" Clark asked. "Go easy on the boy, Lois. He's nervous about writing, and you demand perfection." "And I get it too." Lois leaned closer to Clark, happily. "My everyday partner is perfection in all things." She leaned against his shoulder, for all intents and purposes looking at his computer screen. But Clark bit his lip and took a deep breath as Lois's breast brushed up against his shoulder and he felt her warm breath against his cheek. "In the office, and in the bedroom," she murmured, so softly that even he wasn't sure he heard her. He looked away from his computer screen, meeting her eyes as they shared a look that would have been more appropriate in the bedroom than in the office. Lois ran her tongue over her lips slowly and took a deep breath. The sound of someone clearing his throat brought them back from their fantasy. Jimmy Olsen, dressed in a sports jacket and a tie, stood watching them, an amused look on his face. Unembarrassed, Lois and Clark drew apart. "Perry's assigned you to work with me on these department store robberies, Jimmy," Lois said briskly, in her all-business voice. "Find all the police reports and put together the stories that have already been done on them and meet me at my desk. And don't take all day about it, either." Clark's eyebrows shot up as he watched the transformation of his bedroom-fantasy wife into the no-nonsense reporter. Jimmy was stammering out some sort of acknowledgment as Lois walked back to her desk, her heels clicking on the floor. "Whew!" Jimmy exclaimed. As he saw Clark looking at him with sympathy, he asked, "She used to treat you like that, huh?" "Uh-huh," answered Clark succinctly. "How long did that last?" asked Jimmy. "Until I learned to anticipate her. I'd have the police reports and summaries in my hands when she asked for them. Oh, and scooping her once or twice didn't hurt." "That'll be the day. I'll never be as good as you two." "Sure you will. You have the talent, and the intuition. And you'll learn a lot working with Lois." "If I survive," said Jimmy glumly. Clark laughed. "Man, I wish I had what you have, CK," said Jimmy enviously. Clark looked at him questioningly. "You're on top of your profession; everyone respects you, even Lois, and you have a beautiful wife who looks like she'd like to seduce you right in the middle of the newsroom. I'll never have that." "The only perfect thing in my life is Lois, Jimmy," Clark answered sincerely. "And she wasn't easy to get. You're young yet. I was 28 when I met Lois, and it took years before we were married. They weren't easy years, either. The rest of my life is like everybody else's -- some good times, some bad." "Maybe," said Jimmy unconvinced. "But I'll bet when you were my age, you had girls crawling all over you. I can barely keep a girlfriend for one week." "You'd be surprised, Jimmy," Clark said softly, turning back to his computer. "You'd be surprised." Jimmy looked at Clark pensively for another second before turning away to go rustle up the police reports and background stories. ============================================= Continued in the next three e-mails ============================================= -- Genevieve (NightSky@erols.com) ; The Voting is over, but you can still read the L&C fanfic nominated for the Kerth Awards! ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 16:58:45 -0500 Reply-To: NightSky@erols.com Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Genevieve Subject: Yet Each Man Kills (Part 2 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Yet Each Man Kills" E-Mail 2 of 4 By Genevieve Clemens (NightSky@erols.com) -------------------------------------------------------------------- A few minutes later, Jimmy arrived at Lois's desk with his arms full of folders. She waved him to a seat and continued talking on the phone to the Planet's librarian. "That's right, Helen. I want a list of shelters for abused women as soon as possible. Thanks." Jimmy looked at her inquiringly. In spite of Clark's parting comment that Jimmy didn't know all there was to know about Clark Kent, he refused to believe Lois was seeking shelters for herself. Lois pursed her lips. "It's for a story," she said, sounding slightly annoyed as always when she had to explain the obvious. "A *different* story. Now what have *you* got on these department store robberies?" Jimmy took a deep breath. "In the last three weeks, five different upscale department stores have been robbed, mostly jewelry, watches, stuff like that. No one knows how. The staff closes up for the night just like always; when they open the next morning they find the stuff gone. No alarms are tripped, no doors broken, nothing to indicate how anyone got in. The police are baffled." Lois looked at the folders in his hand. "And those are...?" "Police reports." Jimmy set a stack of folders on Lois's desk. Another stack followed. "Inventories of all missing items." Jimmy set down the final pile of folders with a flourish, "and finally, insurance claims." "So what we have to do," Lois said, "is find out what they all have in common, besides the obvious. There's always a link. Any ideas?" Jimmy looked apologetic. "Well, uh, I haven't actually looked at any of these yet. I just rushed them over here as fast as I could." Lois bit her lip. She wanted to be patient with Jimmy, but her mind wasn't on this assignment; she really wanted to get on the phone and concentrate on the shelters. "Tell you what," she said to Jimmy, "why don't you read the reports, find out the similarities, check into every possibility, and, when you've done that, come back and we'll see what we have." Jimmy, abashed, picked up the folders again. He'd worked so hard to get them all together, and even that wasn't enough. As he turned, he caught Clark's eye. Clark had overheard the whole conversation. Jimmy felt slightly better as Clark winced in sympathy. With a weak smile, he headed back to his desk. Lois turned to her computer and saw that the librarian had already sent her the list of shelters via e-mail. Scanning the list until she found one that was only a few blocks from Hyperion Avenue, she picked up the phone and called to set up an interview. ********** The next day found Jimmy sitting at his desk at the Planet, still reading all those reports, although by now he'd included the financial reports of all the department stores in question. He was looking a bit worn; he'd stayed at the office till eleven the night before, gone home, and returned by six that morning. Lois had stopped by his desk briefly, seemed to approve of what he was doing, and suggested he also look at any and all business contracts the department stores had. She then headed out for her interview at the abused women's shelter. Jimmy sighed and turned back to the computer screen. Lois stopped by Clark's desk on the way out. "I'm off to the shelter," she said. "It's right in our neighborhood; I think I'll go home for lunch. Care to join me?" "If nothing comes up, either here or -- " he made the hand motion they used to indicate Superman. "By noon, I'll be glad of an excuse to get out of here." "I'm leaving early today, too, Boss," Lois said, jokingly referring to the fact that with Perry away at the conference, Clark was nominally in charge. "Doctor's appointment at four-thirty." "Don't forget your parents are coming to dinner." Clark laughed as Lois's panicked expression showed him she had indeed forgotten. "Don't worry. I'll cook." "You usually do," answered Lois. "See you at home for lunch." She turned and headed up the ramp to the elevator. With a sigh, Clark turned back to his computer screen. During the budget crisis a few years ago, someone in upper management had decided that when Perry was absent, his editing duties could be handled by one of the senior reporters. Since then, the role of "Editor pro-tem," as it was jokingly referred to, was rotated among Lois, Clark, and two others. All of them were grateful that Perry wasn't gone very often. Lois, remembering her brief time in Perry's office, told them they were lucky that Perry's other duties were all handled by someone upstairs, but Clark found reading and correcting others' work far less interesting than writing his own material. He also disliked the feeling of claustrophobia being stuck in the office all day gave him; he'd gotten used to being able to come and go as he pleased. Whenever he drew editor duty, he was terrified that some major crisis would require Superman's presence, and he would be hard-pressed to leave. Lois paid the taxi driver and looked around her. The brownstone in front of her looked amazingly like her own house, except for the sign on the door which proclaimed it the "Sawrey House." Lois walked up the steps and rang the bell. The door opened, and a young woman looked out. "I'm Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet. I have an appointment with Beatrix Warne." The young woman opened the door fully and invited Lois inside. Ushering Lois into a small office just off the hallway, the woman asked Lois to wait just a minute while she went and got Ms. Warne. Lois looked around the office. Snooping had never bothered her, and she glanced at all the papers on the desk (bills, mostly, and letters waiting to be answered), picked up the journals and flipped through them, and then began to study the diplomas and certificates on the wall. She found that Ms. Warne had graduated with a BA from Metropolis University and had completed a number of continuing education courses. She noticed a plaque on the opposite wall near the door. She moved closer to read it. It was handmade, with beautiful calligraphy showing the stanzas of a poem. Yet each man kills the thing he loves By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword! Oscar Wilde Lois heard the sound of children playing in the house as the door opened and Ms. Warne came in. She was a young woman, probably about Lois's age. "Lois Lane? I'm Bea Warne." Lois shook the woman's hand and took the seat she was offered, as Ms. Warne seated herself behind the desk. "I was surprised to get your phone call," Ms. Warne continued. "Domestic abuse is everyday sort of news. This is a shelter for abused women. We do a lot of good here, and we need money to operate. That's about all there is that's newsworthy here. Somehow this is not the sort of story I'd expect the world-famous Lois Lane to be covering." Lois smiled at the flattery. "Sometimes I do this kind of story too, especially if something piques my interest. A woman on my block is being abused by her husband, but she won't leave him or seek help. That got me thinking, and I decided to try to write a story about it." "So you want to focus on the women who put up with the abuse, rather than on the shelter itself?" "Perhaps. I haven't thought that far ahead," Lois admitted. "Right now, I'm just trying to find out more about it." "Well, spousal abuse occurs throughout our society; it's not confined to any particular race, nationality, or economic class. About the only common factor is that just about every victim of abuse has a very low self-esteem. Many of them can trace their low feelings of self-worth back to their childhood. In other cases, the partner has managed to erode their self-esteem over the years of abuse. They generally feel very alone in the world; they either have no family or feel they can't ask their family for help. There's really not much anyone can do until the victim decides it's time to make it stop. Even the police can't make an arrest without a complaint. In some places the law permits the police to press charges; the victim doesn't have to. We have a law like that pending in the legislature now. But in any case, many women tend to stay with an abusive or controlling partner for a long time. There are many reasons. The more subtle the abuse or controlling behavior, the more likely the woman is to stay." "What do you mean, 'subtle abuse'?" "Physical abuse, beatings, is the most obvious and gets the most press. But even more epidemic than that is what is often termed 'emotional abuse.' This can range from out and out threats to constant criticism. 'A bitter look,' a 'flattering word,' or a 'kiss,'" she quoted, and Lois glanced at the poem on the wall. "Over the years, all of those can by used by a controlling partner to destroy the other's confidence and feelings of self-worth just as effectively as a pair of fists. We have a number of support groups here for women who have been in that kind of relationship. Many of the women are still with their husbands, but they come to the support group anyway. We try to build their self-esteem, let them know they have alternatives, and show them some of the patterns of their spouses' controlling behavior. And we have support groups for the children of such marriages as well." "I heard the children earlier," Lois said. "Witnessing this sort of thing must be terrible for them." "Yes. And many of them are abused as well. They carry the scars well into adulthood. You hear that abused children are more likely to become abusers in adulthood. That's true, but many do not. Many of them are straight-A students in school and at the top of their professions as adults, terrified to be anything less than perfect. If they are not perfect, they give someone the opportunity to punish them, or to snipe at them. And they keep a brittle shell around themselves, unwilling to let anyone get too close. Much of their energy goes into maintaining this shell and their perfectionism." Lois shifted in her seat, suddenly uneasy for no reason she could fathom. Ms. Warne reached into a drawer and withdrew some brochures. "Perhaps you'd like to visit some of our support groups?" she asked. "And would you like a tour?" "Yes," Lois answered, glad of the change of subject. She rose and prepared to follow Ms. Warne out of the room. ********** The newsroom at the Daily Planet was bustling with activity. Phones rang, reporters talked, messengers rushed about delivering mail to each desk. Still glued to his desk, Clark yawned and stretched, more from boredom than tiredness. As he looked around the office, he saw Jimmy yawning as well. Clark got up, went over to the coffeepot, poured two cups of coffee, and carried them over to Jimmy's desk. Jimmy took it gratefully. "Thanks, CK," he said. "I'm beginning to see double." He sipped at his coffee. Clark glanced at his computer screen. "What have you got?" "These are all the business contracts of the department stores that have been robbed. You want to know where they buy their clothes hangers? I can tell you. I was just about to run a comparison program and see if anything pops out." "Let's do it," Clark said, perching on the side of Jimmy's desk and getting comfortable. Jimmy typed a few more keystrokes and then, with a flourish, pressed the enter key. They both stared at the hourglass that appeared on the screen and waited impatiently for the results. "I like your tie," Clark said to Jimmy, after they'd watched the hourglass for a bit. Jimmy's hand went self-consciously to his new tie. "You know, I feel kinda silly, dressing up like this after all those years. I mean, everybody knows me." Clark shook his head. "Clothes are important, Jimmy. People see the clothes before they see the person. Put on a different set of clothes, and it's amazing how differently people treat you. I still have trouble believing it sometimes." "Yeah, I guess you and Lois dress up a lot, when you are investigating something, don't you? So you don't think I wasted the money, buying the new jackets and ties, then?" "Not a bit. You look just like a trustworthy young reporter ought to," Clark said with a smile. Then he gestured at the computer screen. "Look, it's done." The hourglass had finally disappeared, leaving only one company's name on the screen. "Albion Cleaning Service," Clark read out. "They all have the same cleaning company," Jimmy pondered out loud. "The cleaning crews are probably there after hours, when no one else is around. What do you think?" "Bears looking into," Clark responded, finally getting interested in something that morning. "Let's check it out." But as Jimmy turned to begin digging into Albion's background, someone clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Hey, Clarkie," Ralph Claremont said in his jovial fashion. "Looked at my story yet?" Clark straightened up, resigned to going back to his editing duties. "Story's too long," he said and motioned Ralph to follow him back to his desk, so they could figure out how to shrink it into the allotted space. As he sat down, Clark snuck a peak at the clock -- an hour till he was supposed to meet Lois for lunch. He hoped he'd be able to finish up here and still have time to walk home. After a morning stuck at a desk, he needed the exercise. Leaving the shelter with her briefcase filled with program literature and group schedules, Lois walked quickly towards home. The noon sun was shining brightly down on Hyperion Avenue as she walked, and she unbuttoned the top button of her coat. Sometimes she wasn't sure whether the fact that pregnancy made her feel warm all the time was a good thing or a bad thing. As spring approached and the weather in Metropolis warmed up, she was starting to realize that what had been an advantage all winter could be a handicap in the summer. In front of her a large, heavyset woman was walking slowly, carrying a bag of groceries. Lois veered towards the inside of the sidewalk, hoping to pass the woman, when the woman suddenly turned, heading in towards the building. The collision between the fast moving Lois and the woman was inevitable, and the groceries were scattered around the sidewalk. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Lois squatted to pick up some fruit and a box of pasta. "I was going too fast; if they gave out speeding tickets for walking, I'd get one." "It's OK," said the woman quietly. Lois drew her breath as she saw the bruised face and the black eye and realized that they were in front of the house where the incident had occurred only two nights before. "Here, I can manage," the bruised woman continued, as she noticed Lois's gravid condition. "It must be hard for you to get down and pick things up, these days." "Getting harder every day," Lois admitted, as she sat down on the steps in front of the house, preparing to be her most charming self. "I'm Lois Lane; I just live down the road. We must be neighbors." "Sarah Chiswick." She turned away from Lois to pick up a few more items and put them back in the bag. "Are you OK? It looks like you haven't had an easy time of it either." "Oh," laughed Sarah, embarrassed. "That was nothing, just a silly accident." "I'm a friend of Superman's," said Lois quietly. "He told me what happened." "He doesn't know anything," Sarah said, a belligerent tone coming into her voice. "Comin' in there, and tryin' to tell us what to do." "He was only trying to *help*!" "They're all trying to *help*, but none of them know what'll help. Tellin' me to leave, that won't help nothin'." "Then what will help?" Lois asked. As a reporter, she'd learned a long time ago when to stop talking and start listening. With a heavy sigh, Sarah sat down beside her on the step. "Look, Ms. Lane, Ron don't mean nothin' by this. He just gets frustrated, that's all. Everything's going wrong on him right now, and he gotta hit out at something. If it weren't me, it'd be the wall, or slamming the car door or something. And it's not his fault. He lost his job a couple of months ago. It wasn't fair -- he was doing fine, but then they found out he'd been in jail years ago and let him go. And now he's got nothing to do but hang around the bar all day. He has a bit too much to drink, and -- and that's all." "So what would help?" Lois asked again. "Not me leaving him, that's for sure. Nor me having him put in jail, neither. He's my husband; I took vows, and I'll stay with him come what may. What would help is for someone to help him get a job. He hates it so much when he isn't providing for me, when I have to scrape pennies together for food. He's got a job interview this morning, though. If he gets the job, he'll be fine." "But you can't just stay here and let him hit you!" "Look, Ms. Lane, it's none of your business, but my husband loves me. He really does. And he takes good care of me. It's just when he's down, then he drinks. And then when I do something stupid he gets real mad -- that's all. It's not his fault." Lois was quiet for a minute. "Mrs. Chiswick, he could seriously hurt you some day. Even if you don't want to leave him, there's a shelter for women like you just a few blocks away. They have support groups for women; you could talk to other people about it..." Lois broke off. Sarah was shaking her head. "He wouldn't like that much. We don't mingle much with other people; we keep to ourselves. Ron, he needs for me to be at home when he is. Besides, places like that -- they'd just try to talk me into leaving him." Sarah stood up. "I gotta go in now. He'll be back any minute, and I need to get lunch ready." Sarah stood up and struggled with the grocery bag. As she looked down the street, she saw her husband coming. "Oh, there he comes now." Lois looked and saw a big, hefty man walking down the street. As he climbed the steps they were sitting on, he smiled. "Sarah, everything went great! I'm sure I'll get this job," he exclaimed. He took the bag of groceries from his wife. "Let me help you with that. Just getting back from the store?" he asked. "Yes," Sarah answered. "Ron, this is Lois Lane. She lives just down the street. She bumped into me, and the groceries went everywhere. I think we got them all, though." Everyone glanced around the sidewalk, looking for stray cans of vegetables. Chiswick looked back at Lois. "So, after picking up the groceries, you two just got to talking? What about?" Lois got to her feet, her antagonism towards Chiswick oozing from every pore. He seemed to sense this and stiffened. "Nothing in particular," Lois answered. "I'm a reporter for the Daily Planet. I'm just coming back from an interview at the shelter for abused women a few blocks away from here." Chiswick met Lois's eyes defiantly. "That's got nothing to do with us. C'mon, Sarah, let's go inside. I want my lunch." "Mr. Chiswick, I think your wife needs to have this information. They have a lot of programs at the shelter that could help her." Lois pulled some of the brochures out of her purse, ignoring the pleading look in Sarah's eyes that begged her to drop the whole topic. Instead she went to hand the papers to Sarah, only to find her arm grabbed roughly by Chiswick. "Just who do you think you are?" Chiswick was furiously angry, and as Lois looked up into his face, she could easily see the beast that would hit a woman. She tugged mildly at her arm, but Chiswick held it tightly. "I got the police, I got that do-gooder *Superman*, and now I got *you* comin' in here and tellin' us how to live our lives." The grip on her arm tightened. "Now listen and listen good." Chiswick shook Lois slightly. "Sarah is *my* wife, and I can take care of her. She doesn't need outsiders givin' her ideas. We don't need other people tellin' us what to do, and my wife does not need *friends* like you..." another shake..." tryin' to turn her against her husband." As Chiswick's grip tightened on her arm again, Lois moved. She freed herself from Chiswick's grip with a movement practiced dozens of times in the dojos and gyms of Metropolis and upon the more unsavory citizens of Metropolis. Chiswick grunted slightly and stepped back, surprised by the sudden pain where Lois had accurately hit a pressure point to make him loosen his grip. "You can take care of her?" Lois was incensed. "Look at her. She has a black eye, that *you* gave her, and she moves as if she is bruised all over. Is this how you take care of her?" Chiswick took another step towards Lois. Lois immediately dropped into a defensive posture. She'd seen violence in men's eyes before, and she was seeing it now. But Lois was no Sarah Chiswick, who stood passively, staring aghast at the entire scene. Lois Lane was prepared to give as good as she got. But as she stood there, ready to take on all comers, she felt a touch on her shoulder and looked up into Clark's spectacled eyes. Clark shook his head slightly, warning Lois to desist. Rebellion flared in her eyes, but when she turned back to Chiswick, she saw that Clark's presence had defused the situation. As Chiswick looked from Lois to Clark and back to Lois again, the wild furor left his eyes. With a muttered curse, he turned and stormed into the building. Sarah, with a reproachful look at Lois, followed him silently. Lois, the adrenaline still flowing through her veins, looked up at Clark crossly. "Clark! I could have handled him. I..." Clark shook his head again. "If you intimidate him too much, Lois, he'll just take it out on her." Lois bit her lip and looked back towards the building. "This is one of the times when violence is not the answer, honey. Trust me on this one." Lois looked up into Clark's face, seeing a sad resignation in his brown eyes. How many times, she wondered, had the strongest man in the world realized that not all of his strength could solve a particular problem? Silently, she permitted Clark to take her arm and turn her towards home. As they walked, Lois was thinking. "Clark," she asked. "Does it bother you?" Clark blinked. He knew Lois didn't mean the Chiswicks, but what she actually meant was beyond him. He looked at her questioningly. "I mean my independence. Chiswick doesn't want his wife to be apart from him, to have an idea that he didn't have first, and he resents that he can't care for her the way he feels he should. He has this vision about what his role should be and what hers should be. Do you feel that way at all?" Clark thought for a minute. He was skating on thin ice here, and he knew it. "I never wanted a slave or a servant, Lois," he finally answered. "Your independence, your spunk, and your intelligence were some of the things that drew me to you in the first place. That doesn't bother me. But..." Lois looked up from fishing in her purse for their keys. "But?" "I don't know. Maybe it's some instinctive male thing. But you are my wife; you're carrying my child." Clark opened the door, and they stepped into the warmth of their house. "When Chiswick started threatening you back there, I wanted to protect you, to hit him or something. But I knew you wouldn't appreciate it. *And* I knew you could take care of yourself. But it's still hard. I want to be with you all the time, taking care of you, making sure you're all right. But I can't be. And you'd get annoyed with me being there, all protective. So I just bite my fingernails instead. Lois hung up her coat and looked at him with a smile. "*Can* you bite your fingernails?" Clark smiled back. "Not really, no. But violence is never an option for me." Lois looked at him. "When I get mad, I'll slam the telephone down or push the books around on my desk. But when you lose your temper -- and you do, you can't deny it -- you just get very quiet and still. Don't you ever get the urge to just hit something?" "Oh," Clark said quietly, "I get the urge." He was quiet for a moment, remembering, and then he looked up at her. "When I was 14, my parents wouldn't let me go see a movie -- I can't even remember what it was now, but all the other guys were going to see it. But they said 'No, absolutely not.' It was rated R or something. I was furious. We were sitting on the steps outside the house, and I stormed off. There was an old shed where Dad kept his tools, and I went over and kicked it. That's all. I just kicked it. Not even very hard. The whole thing collapsed." Clark paused, wrapped up in the memory. Lois waited silently. "I'd been getting stronger, faster for about a year then, but this was the first time I'd broken anything really big. I remember standing there stunned at the noise and the dust. I turned to look at my parents. For a split second, I saw the panic in their eyes, before they covered it up with 'normal parents angry at normal kid' response. But now I knew that that was a facade. I knew they were just as scared and unsure at what was happening to me as I was. "They treated it normally, like I'd just broken a window or put my fist through the wall or something. Dad came over and told me it looked like rain, and I'd better get all the tools into the barn real fast before they got wet and rusted. And I obviously wouldn't be going to any movie the next day, because I'd be busy rebuilding the shed. It took us three days, working together, to rebuild that shed. I was scared to use a hammer, and I did misjudge a few times and shatter the boards. But by time the shed was built, I had a bit more confidence that I could control my strength. "I knew then that I could never give in to an urge to lash out at anything. It's hard sometimes. Once I just had to let it out; I had to yell or scream or something. Where could I go? You can't yell in outer space or under water. I flew up to the Arctic. I stood there all alone, on top of an ice floe, and yelled at the top of my lungs. It started avalanches. I worried a bit about the wildlife. But it did feel good. Didn't accomplish anything, but it felt good." Lois moved over to stand behind Clark, where he was sitting on the sofa. She was curious about what had caused the ice floe incident, but some sixth sense warned her not to go there. She put her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. "My poor Clark. All the emotions of a regular man, but none of the outlets." Clark raised his hands and placed them on top of hers. "There are compensations," Clark said, leaning his head against the inside of her arm. "I'm happy with what I am; I'm proud of what I can do." He turned his head and gently kissed her arm, before looking up into her eyes. "And I'm proud of you. Even if you do make me bite my fingernails." ********** ============================================= Continued in the next two e-mails ============================================= Genevieve (NightSky@erols.com) ; The Voting is over, but you can still read the L&C fanfic nominated for the Kerth Awards! ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 17:00:50 -0500 Reply-To: NightSky@erols.com Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Genevieve Subject: Yet Each Man Kills (part 3 of 4) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit -------------------------------------------------------------------- "Yet Each Man Kills" E-Mail 3 of 4 By Genevieve Clemens (NightSky@erols.com) -------------------------------------------------------------------- That afternoon Jimmy proudly showed Lois everything he had discovered about the Albion Cleaning Service. Each of the stores robbed used Albion as their custodial service. Jimmy was quite pleased with the fact that he had also thought to provide a list of the stores that Albion had contracts with that had not been robbed. They reviewed the list. "And look," Jimmy was excited. "These two stores -- McGregor's and Benjamin's -- are really, really upscale stores. I mean, like, only the upper crust of the upper crust could afford to shop in either of them. They haven't been robbed yet. I think we should go and check them out..." "Now? Jimmy, they're filled with shoppers right now. You're not going to learn anything." Jimmy would not be discouraged. "Tonight then," he said. "We can hide out and watch the cleaning company at work." Lois almost yawned at the thought of watching people dusting and sweeping the floors. She knew that the chances of finding anything out that way were slim. But Jimmy's enthusiasm was not to be denied. "OK," she began. Then she remembered. "Oh, no, not tonight. My parents are coming over for dinner. Tomorrow, OK?" Jimmy's disappointment was obvious, but Lois got him to promise that he wouldn't go on his own. "In the meantime," Lois said, "we'll go over to Albion and interview the owner." "About what?" Jimmy couldn't imagine an excuse. "Oh, we'll think of something," Lois said breezily, grabbing her purse. "That's what taxi rides are for." Exulted, Ron Chiswick waited in the outer offices of the Albion Cleaning Service. After months of unemployment, he finally had a job. It wasn't much of a job; he'd be working nights cleaning stores and office buildings, but it was a job. During the interview, he'd thought about lying when they asked him if he'd ever been in trouble with the police, but when he told them the truth, they seemed pleased and hired him on the spot. He was going to buy Sarah a new dress and take her out to dinner with his first paycheck. He stood as his new boss, Jeremy Fisher, came in. Fisher gave Chiswick a T-shirt marked "Albion" and told him to wear it with jeans when he was at work. Chiswick then glanced quickly over a checklist of things to do -- vacuum, dust, clean the restrooms. No problem. "There's one more thing," the supervisor said. Chiswick looked up questioningly. "When you leave, I want you to forget to turn the alarms back on." Chiswick felt the exultation start to drain away and a tension began to replace it. "You won't have to steal anything. Just leave the alarms off." Chiswick thought quickly. He was no fool. He might not be going to steal anything, but somebody else would be. Except for the police bothering him about Sarah, which didn't count, he hadn't been in any trouble for years. Did he want to get involved in this? And yet, it was a job. A man needed a job; he needed to support and care for his wife and family. Slowly Chiswick looked at Fisher and nodded. "I understand, Mr. Fisher. I won't let you down." "Good." Fisher looked at Chiswick appraisingly for a second. "If you do a good job here, Chiswick, we might find something else for you in the organization. You start tomorrow night, ten o'clock, at McGregor's Department Store." ********** Chiswick had barely left when a taxi pulled up, and Jimmy and Lois got out and entered the building. Forty-five minutes later, they were coming out again, frustrated and angry. All of Lois's skill and excuses hadn't managed to procure an interview, and when she'd tried snooping, they had been discovered and pointedly shown the door. "What now?" Jimmy asked. "Do we go back in?" Lois grimaced. "Not today. They'll be watching for us. We'll have to get really sneaky now." She glanced at her watch. "And I have a doctor's appointment in about forty minutes." She thought for a moment. "Jimmy, can you go back to the Planet and find out everything you can about Albion? Who owns them? What are their debts? Everything! Next time we go into that office -- and we will -- I want to make sure we have ammunition." Jimmy watched Lois's cab drive off down the street. Anticipating another all-nighter, he headed off towards the nearest Starbucks to stock up on caffeine before going back to the office. ********** The doorbell rang at 438 Hyperion Avenue. In the kitchen, Clark was holding a tray of cheese and crackers in one hand and a plate of vegetables in the other, while balancing a bowl of ranch dressing in the crook of his elbow. Turning to face the swinging doors which led into the living room, he took a deep breath, pursed his lips, and blew gently. Slowly, as if pulled by invisible ropes, the doors swung open. Continuing to blow until he was safely through the doors, Clark placed the food on the coffee table. The doorbell rang a second time as Clark headed over to answer the front door. As soon as he opened the door, Ellen Lane flew in. "Whew!" she exclaimed. "I thought we would never get here. Sam was late picking me up, and then there was some ghastly traffic tie- up crossing the bridge. Why on earth do you suppose they have to do construction at the dinner hour? I'm starving. Something smells delicious. What's Lois cooking?" Depositing her coat and purse on the chair in the foyer, she headed nonstop towards the kitchen. Sam Lane entered at a more sedate pace. With an indulgent smile at Ellen, he handed Clark a bottle of wine. "Ellen and Lois shouldn't drink it, but I don't see why we should deny ourselves, eh?" he nudged Clark in a conspiratorial way. Clark could think of lots of reasons why wine shouldn't be on the dinner table, basic politeness being the most obvious, but before he could open his mouth, the doors to the kitchen flew open, and Ellen was back in the living room. "Clark! Where's Lois? Isn't she here?" "Not yet, Ellen. She had a doctor's appointment this afternoon. The doctor frequently gets way behind schedule. She'll be here shortly." "Isn't that just like her? Invites her parents over to dinner and then she isn't here. So who cooked? Clark, she didn't leave you with the cooking, did she?" Clark considered telling Ellen that he cooked dinner about ninety percent of the time but decided not to. "It's no big deal, Ellen. It's just a simple dinner, not a seven-course gourmet meal. Come and sit down. Can I get you something to drink?" "Club soda, for me. Sam?" Sam gestured at the wine bottle that Clark was still holding. "I'll have a glass of that, if you don't mind." Clark went into the kitchen to pour one glass of wine and two glasses of club soda. He came back out, served the drinks, and settled himself on the sofa, taking a sip of his club soda. Sam frowned at Clark's choice of beverage and made a big show of drinking his wine -- twirling the glass, sniffing the bouquet, and finally tasting the wine. "Marvelous!" he declared. "You don't know what you're missing." Ellen set down her glass with a decided "clink" and got up to begin nervously pacing around the room. An awkward silence ensued, as Sam sipped at his wine and Clark watched Ellen inspect the living room. Clark tried desperately to think of some subject for conversation. When he saw Ellen run her finger over their bookshelves, looking for dust, he asked semi-humorously, "Can I get you a pair of white gloves?" "Oh," Ellen was flustered. "No, I'm just surprised, that's all. Lois never kept her room neat as a child, yet her house is as neat as a pin." Clark hid a smile. It wasn't Lois who kept the house spic and span, and it didn't take him more than a few seconds a day to dust. "Was it hard to get her to clean her room?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Oh, wasn't it just!" Ellen answered, coming back over to the sofa to sit down. "I remember one time when she was about ten..." "I'm starving," Sam interrupted. "If Lois isn't back in about fifteen minutes, let's start without her." Silence reigned again, and Clark found himself listening for Lois's arrival. There were times when Sam and Ellen were quite pleasant to be around and he was sure that Lois had exaggerated all of their problems during her childhood. At other times, like this one, he was sure the most horrific of her stories had barely scratched the surface. The three of them had just sat down and begun their salads when Clark finally heard Lois coming up the stairs. The sharpness of her steps and her infuriated muttering as she searched in her purse for her key warned him that something had happened to put Lois Lane in a very bad mood indeed. The door closed behind Lois with a resounding bang, as she stormed into the dining room. "Clark! There you are! I am not going back to that doctor again. I don't care what you say; I don't care what we do. I am not going back to him again. You can..." As she saw her parents she checked herself and caught her breath. "*Superman* can fly me to *Australia*, and we can find a doctor down there. I don't care, but I am not going back to that *medieval* doctor again. I'm just not." "Lois, dear, what happened?" Ellen asked concerned, while at the same time Sam said, "Lois, don't rush into anything. The doctor undoubtedly knows best." "Knows best! Knows best?" Lois focused on her father's words. "Do you know what he said?" She stared at Clark. He shook his head mutely, raising his eyebrows in silent inquiry. Long experience had taught him that Lois would listen best after she had gotten all of this out of her system. "He started telling me what things would be like when the baby was born, you know -- in the hospital? He told me when I should call him and when I should come to the hospital, things like that. Then he said that the whole time I'd be in the hospital, I'd be in bed, attached to the fetal monitors and with an IV." "That sounds reasonable," Sam began, but Lois didn't even stop for a breath. "So I told him that I'd been reading, and that a lot of the books said that it was more comfortable, and that labor progressed more quickly, if the woman was up and mobile. And *he* said..." Clark didn't think Lois had ever said "Lex" with more venom than she had managed to put into that "he" when she referred to the doctor. "*He* said that he didn't want me reading books, that they would only confuse me. I'm a *journalist* for heaven's sake. Confuse me!" Clark winced slightly when he heard that. As he imagined the invective that Lois had undoubtedly poured out upon the doctor at that point, half of him was sympathetic for the doctor and the other half wished with all his heart that he had been there to see it. "But Lois," Sam's voice of reason wafted over the table, "he didn't mean it that way. These popular books aren't based on sound medical fact; they are frequently contradictory, and as a doctor myself, I can tell you there is nothing more annoying than a patient who insists on telling me how to do my job. You just have to trust him; he has a good reputation, doesn't he?" "Repu